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diff --git a/41032-0.txt b/41032-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8bb261 --- /dev/null +++ b/41032-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,57497 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41032 *** + +[Transcriber's notes] + This text is derived from + http://www.archive.org/details/catholicworld03pauluoft + + Although square brackets [] usually designate footnotes or + transcriber's notes, they do appear in the original text. + + This text includes Volume III; + Number 1--April 1866 + Number 2--May 1866 + Number 3--June 1866 + Number 4--July 1866 + Number 5--August 1866 + Number 6--September 1866 +[End Transcriber's notes] + + +THE CATHOLIC WORLD. + + +_Monthly Magazine_ + +of + +GENERAL LITERATURE AND SCIENCE. + + + +VOL. III. + +APRIL TO SEPTEMBER, 1866. + + + +NEW YORK: + +LAWRENCE KEHOE, PUBLISHER, + +145 Nassau Street. + +1866. + + + +CONTENTS. + + + +All-Hallow Eve; or The Test of Futurity, 97, 241. +Abbey, Glastonbury, 150. +Animal Life, Curiosities of, 232. +Alexandria, Christian Schools of, 354, 484. +Abbeville, a Day at, 590. +Asses, Dogs, Cats, etc., 688. +A Celtic Legend, 810. + +Benedictines, Rise of, 150. +Buried Alive, 805. + +Curiosities of Animal Life, 232. +Catholic Publication Society, The, 278. +Christian Schools of Alexandria, The, 354, 484. +Cuckoo and Nightingale, The, 543. +Cardinal Tosti, 851. + +Dr. Spring, Reminiscences of, 129. +Dreamers and Workers, 418. +De Guérin, Eugénie, Letters from Paris, 474. + +Eirenicon, Reply to, by Very Rev. Dr. Newman, 46. +Eirenicon, Pamphlets on the, 217. +Eve de la Tour d'Adam, 366. +Ecce Homo, 618. +Episcopal Church, Doctrine on Ordination, 721. + +France, Two Pictures of Life in, 411. +Franciscan Missions on the Nile, 768. + +Glastonbury Abbey, 150. +Gerbet, l'Abbe, 308. +God Bless You, 593. +Gipsies, The, 702. + +Haven't Time, 92. +Hürter, Frederick, 115. +Heaven, Nearest Place to, 433. + +Ireland and the Informers of 1798, 122. +Irish Folk Books of the Last Century, 679. + +Jenifer's Prayer, 17, 183, 318. + +Kilkenny, a Month in, 301. + +Legend, a Celtic, 810. + +Miscellany, 137, 421, 570, 853. +Madeira, Tinted Sketches in, 265. + +Newman, Very Rev. Dr., Saints of the Desert, 16, 170, 334. +Newman, Very Rev. Dr., Reply to Dr. Pusey's Eirenicon, 46. +New York; Religion in, 381. +Necklace, the Pearl, 693. +Nile, Franciscan Missions on the, 768. +Nile, Solution of the Problem of the, 828. + +Old Thorneley's Heirs, 404, 443, 599, 738. +Our Ancestors, Industrial Arts of, 549, 780. + +Patriarchate of Constantinople, Present State of, 1. +Prayer, Jenifer's, 17, 183, 318. +Problems of the Age, 145, 289, 518, 577, 758. +Perico the Sad, 497, 660, 787. +Perreyve, Henri, 845. + +Reminiscences of Dr. Spring, 129. +Religion In New York, 381. +Reading, Use and Abuse of, 463. +Rome the Civilizer of Nations, 638. + +Saints of the Desert, The, 16, 170, 334 +Steam-Engine, Proposed Substitutes for, 29. +St. Paul, Youth of, 531. +Sealskins and Copperskins, 557. + +The Age, Problems of, 145, 289, 518, 577, 758. +Turkestan, A Pretended Dervish in, 198, 370. +Two Pictures of Life In France before 1848, 411. +Three Women of our Time, 834. +Tosti, Cardinal, 851. + +Unconvicted, 404, 443, 599, 738. +Use and Abuse of Reading, 463. + +Virtue, Statistics of, 731. + +Weddings, East Indian, 635. + +-------- + +POETRY. + +Bury the Dead, 379. +Banned and Blessed, 306. + +Christine, 32, 171, 335. +Claims, 556. +Carols from Cancionero, 692. +Christian Crown, The, 736. + +D«y-Dreams, 483. + +Hymn, 548. +Holy Saturday, 634. + +Lockharts, Legend of the, 127. +Lost for Gold, 826. + +Mater Divinae Gratiae, 216 +May Breeze, 442. + +Our Neighbor, 317. +Our Mother's Call, 462. + +Poor and Rich, 240. +Peace, 410. + +Requiem AEternam, 263. + +Shell, Song of the, 96. +Sapphics, 517. +Sacrilege, the Curse of, 656. +Sonnet, 850. + +The King and the Bishop, 528. +Therein, 597. +The Martyr, 617. +Thy Will be Done, 778. + +Words of Wisdom, 121 + + +------ + +{iv} + + +NEW PUBLICATIONS. + + +Archbishop Hughes, Life of, 140. +Apostleship of Prayer, 428. +Agnes, 431. +Appleton's Annual Cyclopaedia, 719. +Army of the Potomac, Medical Recollections of, 854. + +Biology, Spencer's Principles of, 425. +Blessed Virgin, Devotion to in North America, 574. +Biographical Dictionary, 574 +Books for Young People, 720. +Criterion, Tuckerman's, 143. +Christ the Light of the World, 144. +Christus Judex, 288. +Christian Examiner, 427. +Christine,717. +Cosas de Espana, 858. + +Dictionary, Webster's, 143. +Draper's Text Books of Chemistry, etc, 576. +Darras' Church History, 719. + +Eirenicon, Dr. Pusey's, 283. +Eugénie de Guérin, Letters of, 859. +English Language, Practical Grammar of, 860. + +Faber's New Book, 287. +Froude's History of England, 718. + +Grahams, The, 288. +Grant, Headley's Life of, 575. + +Hughes, Archbishop, Life of, 140. +Holy Childhood, Report of, 573. +Headley's Life of Grant, 575. +Homes without Hands, 860. + +Kennett, Story of, 431. +Keating's Ireland, 432. + +Mount Hope Trial, 430. +Marshall's Missions, 430. +May Carols, De Vere's, 432. +Marcy's Army Life, 716. + +New-Englander, The, 855. + +Prayer, Apostleship of, 428. +Priest and People, Good Thoughts for, 431. +Poetry of the Civil War, 576. + +Queen's English, A Plea for the, 857. +as +Spencer's Principles of Biology, 425. +Spalding's Miscellanea, 571. +Shakespeare on Insanity, 860. + +Wyoming, Valley of, 859. + +------ + +{1} + + +THE CATHOLIC WORLD. + + +VOL. III., NO. 1.--APRIL, 1866. + + + +[ORIGINAL.] + + +THE PRESENT STATE OF THE +PATRIARCHATE OF CONSTANTINOPLE. [Footnote 1] + + [Footnote 1: "L'Eglise Orientale, par Jaques G. Pitzipios, Fondateur + de la Société Chrétienne Orientale." Rome: Imprimerie de la + Propagande, 1855.] + +In the year 1841, the bishops of the Protestant Episcopal dioceses of +Massachusetts, New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Missouri, Maryland, +and Pennsylvania, professing to speak in the name of their church in +the United States, addressed the following language to the +schismatical Patriarch of Constantinople, whom they style "the +venerable and right reverend father in God the _Patriarch of the Greek +Church,_resident at Constantinople:" + +"The church in the United States of America, therefore, looking to the +triune God for his blessings upon its efforts for unity in the body of +Christ, turn with hope to the Patriarch of Constantinople, _the +spiritual head of the ancient and venerable Oriental Church._" +[Footnote 2] + + [Footnote 2: Quoted in the "Memoir of Rev. F.A. Baker," p. 47.] + +This is by no means the only instance of overtures of this kind, +looking toward a union between Protestant Episcopalians and Eastern +schismatics, with the view of concentrating the opposition to the +Roman See under a rival Oriental primacy. The Non-jurors, who were +ejected from their sees at the overthrow of the Stuarts, proposed to +the Synod of Bethlehem to establish the primacy in the patriarchate of +Jerusalem; but their proposal was met by a decidedly freezing refusal. +The American bishops who signed the letter from which the foregoing +extract is taken show a remarkable desire to bow down before some +ecclesiastical power more ancient and venerable than themselves; and +in their extreme eagerness to propitiate the Eastern prelates, they +acknowledge without scruple the most arrogant titles usurped by the +Patriarch of Constantinople, although from their want of familiarity +with the ecclesiastical language, they do it in a very unusual and +peculiar style. Whatever may be at present the particular views of +those who are seeking to bring about a union between the Protestant +Episcopal churches and the Easterns, in regard to the order of +hierarchical organization, they are evidently disposed to pay court to +the successor of Photius and Michael Cerularius, and to espouse {2} +warmly his quarrel against Rome. His figure is the foremost one in the +dispute, and there is every disposition to take advantage as far as +possible of the rank which the See of Constantinople has held since +the fifth century, first by usurpation and afterward by the concession +of Rome, as second to the Apostolic See of St. Peter. We do not accuse +all those who are concerned in the union movement of being animated by +a spirit of enmity against Rome. Some of them, we believe, are seeking +for the healing of the schisms of Christendom in a truly Catholic +spirit, although not fully enlightened concerning the necessary means +for doing so. We may cherish the same hope concerning some of the +Oriental prelates and clergy also, especially those who have +manifested a determination not to compromise a single point of +Catholic dogma for the sake of union with Protestants. We are quite +sure, however, that the loudest advocates of union in the Protestant +ranks, and their most earnest and hearty sympathizers in the East, are +thoroughly heretical and schismatical in their spirit and intentions, +and are aiming at the overthrow of the Roman Church, and a revolution +in the orthodox Eastern communion, as their dearest object. While, +therefore, we disclaim any hostile attitude toward men like Dr. Pusey +and other unionists of his spirit, and would never use any language +toward them which is not kind and respectful, we are compelled to +brand the use which other ecclesiastics in high position have sought +to make of this Greek question as entirely unprincipled. Their +cringing and bowing before the miserable, effete form of Christianity +at Constantinople, dictated as it is chiefly by hatred against Rome, +is something unworthy of honest Christians and intelligent Englishmen +and Americans. Many very sincere and well-disposed persons are no +doubt misled by their artful misrepresentations. On that account it is +very necessary to bring out as clearly as possible the true state of +the case, as regards Oriental Christendom, that it may be seen how +little support Anglicanism or any kind of Protestantism can draw from +that quarter; and how strongly the entire system of Catholic dogma is +sustained by the history and traditions of the Eastern Church. + +We may possibly hereafter discuss more at large some of these +important subjects relating to the Eastern Church and the schism which +has desolated its fairest portions for so many centuries. On this +occasion we intend merely to throw a little light on the present +actual condition of the patriarchate of Constantinople, in order to +dissipate any illusion that may have been created by high-sounding +words, and to show how little reason there is to "turn with hope to +the spiritual head of the Oriental Church" for any enlightening or +sanctifying influences upon the souls which are astray from the fold +of St. Peter. We waive, for the time, all consideration of past +events, anterior to the period of Turkish domination, and all +discussion of the remote circumstances which have brought the See of +Constantinople into its present state of degradation, and of obstinate +secession from the unity of the Church. + +We take it as we find it, under the Mohammedan dominion, and will +endeavor to show how it stands in relation to other churches of the +East, and what are its claims on the respect and honor of Western +Christians. + +The Patriarch of Constantinople is not the Patriarch of the "Greek +Church." There is no designation of this kind known in the East. The +style there used is, the "Holy Eastern Church." The Greek rite, or +form of celebrating mass and administering the sacraments in the Greek +language, is only one of the rites sanctioned by the Catholic Church +which are in use among those Christians who are not under the Latin +rite. What is usually called in the West the Greek Church has several +independent organizations. {3} The Patriarch of Constantinople, who +very early subjugated the patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and +Jerusalem to his dominion, now rules over the same patriarchates, +which have dwindled to very insignificant dimensions, and over all the +separated orthodox Christians of the Turkish empire. The Russian +Church, which was erected into a distinct patriarchate by Ivan III., +is under the supreme jurisdiction of the imperial governing synod. The +Patriarch of Constantinople is treated with respect and honor, and +referred to for advice and counsel, by the Russian authorities; but he +has no more jurisdiction in Russia than the Archbishop of Baltimore +has in the province of New York. The Church of Greece not only threw +off all dependence on the See of Constantinople after the revolution, +but renounced all communication with it, for reasons to be mentioned +hereafter. The separated Greek Christians of the Austrian empire are +governed by the Patriarch of Carlovitz, and there is at least one +other separate jurisdiction in the Montenegrine provinces. The +Patriarch of Constantinople possesses, therefore, an actual +jurisdiction over a fraction only of the Eastern Church. Within the +proper limits of his own patriarchate this jurisdiction is absolute, +both in ecclesiastical and civil matters, subject only to the supreme +authority of the sultan. Immediately after the capture of +Constantinople by the Turks, the Sultan Mahomet II. conferred upon the +Patriarch Grennadius the character of _Milet-bachi_, or chief of a +nationality, giving him investiture by the pastoral staff and mantle +with his own hands. The reason of his doing so was, that the +Mohammedan law recognizes only Mohammedans as members of a Mohammedan +nationality. In more recent times, the sultans, disgusted by the venal +and tyrannical conduct of the patriarchs, have refused to confer this +investiture in person, and it is now done by the grand vizier. Eight +metropolitans, namely, those of Chalcèdon, Ephesus, Derendah, +Heraclèa, Cyzicus, Nicomedia, Caesarèa, and Adrianople, form the +supreme council of the patriarchate, and, with the patriarch, +administer the ecclesiastical and civil government of the Christians +of their communion throughout the Ottoman empire. They have the +control of the common chest or treasury of the Oriental rite in +Turkey, and of that of the provinces; two great funds established +originally for helping poor Christians to pay the exactions levied on +them by the Mussulmans, but at present diverted to quite other uses by +their faithless and rapacious guardians. They are also exclusively +privileged to act as ephori or financial agents and bankers for the +other one hundred and thirty-four bishops of the Turkish provinces, +each one of them having as many of these episcopal clients as he can +get. + +Possessed of such an amount of ecclesiastical and civil power as the +patriarchate of Constantinople has been within the Ottoman empire for +several centuries, it is plain that it might have become the centre of +an incalculable influence for the spiritual, moral, and social good of +its subjects. Everything would seem to have combined to throw into the +hands of the patriarch and his subordinate bishops the power of being +truly the protectors and fathers of their people, and to furnish them +with the most powerful motives for being faithful to their trust. The +oppressed, despised, and impoverished condition of their poor, +miserable people, slaves of a fanatical, barbarous, anti-Christian +despotism, was enough to have awakened every noble and disinterested +emotion in their bosoms, had they been men; and to have aroused the +most devoted, self-sacrificing charity and zeal in their hearts, had +they been Christians worthy of the name or true Christian pastors. +Moreover, if they had been true patriots, and really devoted to the +interests of Christianity and the church, there was every inducement +to avail themselves of their position {4} and to watch the opportunity +of cultivating unity and harmony with the Catholic Church and the +powerful Christian nations of the West, in order to secure their +eventual deliverance from the detestable Moslem usurpation, and the +restoration of religion among them to its ancient glory. All causes of +misunderstanding and dissension had been done away at the Council of +Florence. The perfect dogmatic agreement between the East and the West +had been fully established. The Greek and other Oriental rites, and +the local laws and customs, had been sanctioned. The patriarchs and +hierarchy had been confirmed in their privileges. The Patriarch of +Constantinople was even tacitly permitted to retain his high-sounding +but unmeaning title of ecumenical patriarch without rebuke, and +allowed to exercise all the jurisdiction which other patriarchs or +metropolitans were willing to concede to him, subject to the universal +supremacy of Rome. The remembrance of the gallant warfare of the Latin +Christians against their common Moslem enemy, and especially of the +heroic devotion of the cardinal legate and his three hundred +followers, who had buried themselves under the walls of Constantinople +at its capture, ought to have effaced the memory of former wrongs +[Footnote 3] and subdued the stupid, fanatical, unchristian sentiment +of national antipathy against Christians of another race. Everything +concurred to invite them to play a noble and glorious part toward +their own Christian countrymen and toward Christendom in general. We +are compelled, however, to say, with shame and pain, that they have +proved so recreant to every one of these trusts and opportunities, +their career has been one of such unparalleled infamy and perfidy, as +to cover the Christian name with ignominy, and to merit for themselves +the character of apostates from Christianity--seducers, corruptors, +oppressors, and robbers of their own people. + + [Footnote 3: The Crusaders undoubtedly committed some great + outrages, in revenge far the treachery of the Byzantines, and some + Latin missionaries imprudently attacked the Oriental rites and + customs, but these acts were always disapproved and condemned by the + Popes.] + +We will first give a sketch of the line of conduct they have pursued +in relation to ecclesiastical matters, and afterward of their +administration of their civil authority. + +It is notorious that the schismatical bishops and clergy of Turkey +neglect almost entirely the duty of preaching the word of God and +giving good Christian instruction to their people. The sacraments are +administered in the most careless and perfunctory manner, and real +practical Christian piety and morality are in a very low state both +among clergy and laity. The clergy themselves are grossly ignorant and +unfit for the exercise of their office, taken from the lowest class of +the people, without instruction or preparation for orders, and treated +by their superiors as menial servants. The bishops and higher clergy +do not trouble themselves to remedy this gross incapacity of their +inferiors, or to supply it by their own efforts. Consequently, the +common Christian people of their charge have fallen into a state of +moral degradation below that of the Turks themselves, by whom they are +despised as the outcasts of society. The striking contrast between the +schismatical clergy, monasteries, and people, and the Catholic, is +proverbial among the Turks, and an object of remark even by Protestant +travellers. It is probable that there have been many exceptions to the +general rule of incompetence and supine neglect; but, viewing the case +as a whole, it must be said that the patriarchs of Constantinople and +their subordinate prelates have completely failed to do their duty as +pastors of their people and their instructors and guides in religion +and virtue. Their unfortunate position furnishes no adequate excuse, +as will be seen when we examine a little further into the enterprises +they have actually been engaged in, and see how well {5} they have +succeeded in accomplishing what they have really desired and +undertaken, which is nothing else than their own selfish +aggrandizement. Look at the contrast between their conduct and that of +the Catholic hierarchies of Russia, Poland, and Ireland under similar +circumstances of oppression, and every shadow of excuse will vanish. +No doubt there were many causes making it difficult to elevate the +character of the ordinary clergy and the people, and tending to keep +them down to a low level of intelligence and knowledge. This would +furnish an excuse for a great deal, if there had been an evident +struggle of the hierarchy to do their best in remedying the evil. +Instead of doing this, they are the principal causes of the +perpetuation and aggravation of this degraded state. Since the decay +of the Ottoman power commenced, the clergy have had it in their power +to bid defiance in great measure to the Turkish government. They have +been able to control immense sums of money and to wield a great +commercial and financial influence. They might have employed the +intervention of Christian powers, and especially of Russia, if they +had been governed by enlightened and Christian motives, in order to +gain just rights and the means of improvement for their people. The +Ottoman government, itself, has come to a more just and liberal +policy, in which it would have welcomed the aid of the Christian +hierarchy, had there been one worthy of the name. Their complete +apathy at all times to everything which concerns the spiritual and +moral welfare of their subjects will warrant no other conclusion than +that they have practically apostatized from the faith and church of +Christ, and are mere intruders into the fold which they lay waste and +ravage. + +In their attitude toward the Catholic Church and the Holy See, the +hierarchy of the patriaichate are ignorantly, violently, and +obstinately schismatical, and even heretical. The public and official +teaching of the Eastern Church is orthodox, and therefore no one is +adjudged to be a heretic simply because he adheres to that communion. +One who intelligently and obstinately adheres to a schism as a state +of permanent separation from the See of St. Peter, is, however, at +least a constructive heretic, and is very likely to be a formal +heretic, on several doctrines which have been defined by the Catholic +Church. The nature of the opposition of the clergy of Constantinople +to the Roman Church, the grounds on which they defend their +contumacious rebellion, and the dogmatic arguments which they employ +in the controversy, are such as to place them in the position of the +most unreasonable and contumacious schismatics, and as it appears to +our judgment, in submission to that of more learned theologians, of +heretics also. So far as their influence extends, and it is very +great, they are chiefly accountable for the isolated condition of the +entire non-united Eastern Church. As the ambition of the Patriarch of +Constantinople was the original cause of the schism, so now the +ignorant and violent obstinacy of the clergy of the patriarchate, and +their supreme devotion to their own selfish and narrow personal and +party interests, is, in connection with a similar though less odious +spirit in the chief Muscovite clergy, and the worldly policy of the +Russian czar, the chief cause of its perpetuation. + +The clergy of Constantinople have not hesitated to resort to forgery +in order to do away with the legal and binding force of the act of +their own predecessors in subscribing and promulgating throughout +their entire jurisdiction the act of union established at the Council +of Florence. Gennadius, the first patriarch elected after the Turkish +conquest, was one of the prelates who signed the decree of the Council +of Florence, a learned and virtuous man, and is believed to have lived +and died in the {6} communion of the Holy See. Actual communication +between Constantinople and Rome was, however, rendered absolutely +impossible by the deadly hostility of the conquerors to their +principal and most dangerous foe. The slightest attempt at any +intercourse with the Latin Christians would have caused the +extermination of all the Christian subjects of the Ottoman empire. It +is difficult to discover, therefore, when and how it was that the +supremacy of the Roman Church, whose actual exercise was thus at first +impeded by the necessity of the case, was again formally repudiated by +the patriarchs. There is a letter extant, written in the year 1584 by +the Patriarch Jeremiah to Pope Gregory XIII., in which he says that +"it belonged to him, as the head of the Catholic Church, to indicate +the measures to be employed against the Protestants," and requests him +in virtue of this office to point out what measures can be taken to +arrest the advance of Protestantism. This is the last official act of +the kind of which there is any record. The patriarchs and their +associates have relapsed into an attitude toward the Holy See which is +equally schismatical and arrogant, though through their degraded +condition far more ridiculous than that which was assumed by their +predecessors before the Council of Florence. In order to nullify, as +far as possible, the legal force of the act of union promulgated by +that council, they have resorted to a forgery, and have published the +acts of a pretended council under a patriarch who never existed and +whom they call Athanasius. There is no precise date attached to these +forged acts, but they are so arranged as to appear to have been +promulgated soon after the return of the emperor and prelates from +Italy, and before the Turkish conquest; and in them, some of the +principal prelates what signed the decrees of the Council of Florence +are represented as abjuring and begging pardon for what they had done. +They are said to have been moved to this by the indignation of their +people and a sedition in Constantinople in which the rejection of the +act of union was demanded. The forgery is too transparent to be worthy +of refutation, and could never have been executed and palmed off as +genuine in any other place than in Constantinople. They have also put +out a book called the "Pedalium," in which they revive all the +frivolous pretexts on account of which the infamous Michael Cerularius +and his ignorant ecclesiastical clique of the _Bas Empire_ pretended +to prove the apostacy of the Bishop of Rome and all Western +Christendom from the faith and communion of the Catholic Church, and +the consequent succession of the Bishop of Constantinople to the +universal primacy. The clergy of the patriarchate have taken the +position that the Catholic Church at present is confined to the limits +of what we call the Greek Church. They claim for themselves, +therefore, that place which they acknowledge formerly belonged to the +See of Rome, and thus seek to justify and carry out the usurpation of +supreme and universal authority indicated by the title of ecumenical +patriarch. The absurdity of this is evident, from the very grounds on +which the title was originally assumed, and the traditional maxims +which directed the policy of the ambitions Byzantine prelates +throughout the entire period of the Greek empire. The original and +only claim of the bishops of Constantinople, who were merely +suffragans of the Metropolitan of Heraclèa before their city was made +the capital of the empire, to the patriarchal dignity, was the +political importance of the city. Because Constantinople was new Rome, +therefore the Bishop of Constantinople ought to be second to the +Bishop of ancient Rome; and not only this, but he ought to rule over +the whole East with a supremacy like that which the Bishop of Rome had +always exercised over the whole {7} world. This false and schismatical +principle is contrary to the fundamental principle of Catholic church +organization, viz., that the subordination of episcopal sees springs +from the divine institution of the primacy in the See of St. Peter, +and is regulated by ecclesiastical canons on spiritual grounds, which +are superior to all considerations of a temporal nature. The Patriarch +of Constantinople has long ago lost all claim to precedence or +authority based on the civil dignity of the city as the seat of an +empire. According to the principles of his predecessors, the primacy +ought to have been transferred to the Patriarch of Moscow, when the +Russian patriarchate was established by Ivan III. Nevertheless, he +still continues to style himself ecumenical patriarch, and the eight +metropolitans who form his permanent synod continue to keep the +precedence over all other bishops of the patriarchate, although their +sees have dwindled into insignificance, and other episcopal towns far +exceed them in civil importance. In point of fact, the baselessness of +his claim to universal jurisdiction has been recognized by the Eastern +Church. His real authority is confined to the Turkish empire, where it +is sustained by the civil power. Russia has long been independent of +him. The Church of Greece has completely severed her connection with +him. The schismatical Greeks of the Austrian empire, and those of the +neighboring provinces, are severally independent. The false principle +that produced the Eastern schism in the first place thus continues to +work out its legitimate effect of disintegration in the Eastern +communion itself, by separating the national churches from the +principal church of Constantinople, which would itself crumble to +pieces if the support of the Ottoman power were removed. The +privileges of the See of Constantinople have now no valid claim to +respect, except that derived from ecclesiastical canons ratified by +time, general consent, and the sanction of the Roman Church. The +instinct of self-preservation ought to compel its rulers to fall back +on Catholic principles, and submit themselves to the legitimate +authority of the Roman Pontiff as the head of the Catholic Church +throughout the world. They are following, however, the contrary +impulse of self-destruction, to which they are abandoned by a just God +as a punishment for their treason to Jesus Christ and his Vicar, and +in every way seeking to strengthen and extend the barrier which +separates them from the Roman Church. + +This policy has led them to do all in their power to establish a +dogmatic difference between the Oriental Church and the Church of +Rome. Not only do they represent the difference in regard to the +procession of the Holy Spirit from the Son, as expressed by the +"Filioque" of the Creed, which was fully proved at the Council of +Florence to be a mere verbal difference, as a difference in regard to +an essential dogma, but they have brought in others to swell their +list of Latin heresies. The principal dogmatic differences on which +they insist are three: the doctrine of purgatory, the quality of the +bread used in the holy eucharist, and the mode of administering +baptism. Only the most deplorable ignorance and factiousness could +base a pretence of dogmatic difference on such a foundation. In regard +to purgatory, the Roman Church has defined or required nothing beyond +that which is taught by the doctrinal standards of the Eastern Church. +The difference in regard to the use of leavened or unleavened bread, +and the mode of baptism, is a mere difference of rite. In regard to +the last-mentioned rite, however, the clergy of Constantinople have +even surpassed their usual amount of ignorance and effrontery. They +pretend that no baptism except that by trine immersion is valid, and +consequently that the vast majority of Western Christians are +unbaptized. This position of theirs, which will no doubt be {8} very +satisfactory to our Baptist brethren, makes sweeping work, not only +with the Latin Church, but with Protestant Christendom. Where there is +no baptism, there is no ordination, no sacrament whatever, no church. +What will our Anglican friends say to this? The clergy of +Constantinople rebaptize unconditionally every one who applies to be +received into their communion, whether he be Catholic or Protestant, +clergyman or layman. It would be folly to argue against this +sacrilegious absurdity on Catholic grounds. It is enough to show their +inconsistency with themselves, by mentioning the fact that the Russian +Church allows the validity of baptism by aspersion, and that even +their own book of canons permits it in case of necessity. But why look +for any manifestation of the learning, wisdom, or Christian principle +which ought to characterize prelates from men who have bought their +places for gold, and who sell every episcopal see to the highest +bidder? The simony and bribery which have been openly and unblushingly +practised by the ruling clerical faction of the Turkish empire since +the time when the monk Simeon bought the patriarchal dignity from the +sultan, make this page of ecclesiastical history one of the blackest +and most infamous in character. As we might expect under such a +system, virtuous and worthy men are put aside, and the episcopate and +priesthood filled up from the creatures and servile followers of the +ruling clique. Such men naturally disgrace their holy character by +their immoral lives, and bring opprobrium on the Christian name. The +history of the patriarchate of Constantinople, therefore, since the +period of Gennadius and the first few successors who followed his +worthy example, has been stained with blood and crime, and darkened by +scenes of tragic infamy and horror. We will relate one of the most +recent of these, as a sufficient proof and illustration of the heavy +indictment we have made against the patriarchal clergy. + +At the time of the Greek revolution, the patriarch and principal +clergy of Constantinople received orders from the sultan to use their +power in suppressing all co-operation on the part of the Christians in +Turkey with their brethren in Greece, and to denounce to the Ottoman +government all who were suspected of conniving at the insurrection. +Their political position no doubt required of them to remain passive +in the matter, to refrain from positively aiding the revolutionists, +and also to suppress all overt acts of the Christians under their +jurisdiction against the government. Nevertheless, as a people +unjustly enslaved by a barbarous, anti-Christian despotism, they owed +nothing more to their masters than this exterior obedience to the +letter of the law. They could not be expected to enter with a hearty +and zealous sympathy into the measures of the government for +suppressing the revolution; and, indeed, every genuine and noble +sentiment of Christianity and patriotism forbade their doing so, and +exacted of them a deep, interior sympathy with their cruelly oppressed +brethren who were so nobly struggling to free their country from the +hated yoke of the Moslem conqueror. The really high-minded Greeks of +the empire did thus sympathize with their brethren. The ruling clergy, +however, manifested a zeal for the interests of the Ottoman court so +_outré_ and so scandalous that it not only outraged the feelings of +their own subjects, but, as we shall see, aroused the suspicions of +the tyrants before whom they so basely cringed, and brought +destruction on their own heads. They accused a great number of +Christians of complicity in the insurrection, seizing the opportunity +of denouncing every one who had incurred their hatred for any reason +whatever, so that the prisons were soon crowded with their unfortunate +victims, all of whom suffered the penalty of death. The patriarch +pronounced a sentence of major excommunication against Prince +Ypsilanti, and all the Greeks who {9} took part in the revolt. A few +days afterward, on the first Sunday of Lent, during the solemnities of +the pontifical mass, the patriarch, his eight chief metropolitans, and +fifteen other bishops, pronounced the same sentence of +excommunication, together with the sentence of deposition and +degradation, against seven bishops of Greece, partisans of Prince +Ypsilanti, and all their adherents, signing the decree on the altar of +the cathedral church. Such a storm of indignation was raised by this +nefarious act, that the prelates were obliged to pacify their people +by pretending that they had acted under the compulsion of the +government. A few days after, the patriarch and the majority of the +bishops who had signed the decree were condemned to death and +executed, on the charge of participating in the revolution. Even after +the great powers of Europe had acknowledged the independence of +Greece, the ruling clergy of Constantinople endeavored to curry favor +at court by sending a commission, under the presidency of the +metropolitan of Chalcèdon, to recommend to the Greeks a return to the +Turkish dominion! It is needless to say that this invitation was +declined, although we cannot but admire the self-control of the Greek +princes and prelates when we are told that it was declined, and the +ambassadors dismissed, _in the most polite manner_. + +One more intrigue, the last one they have been left the opportunity of +trying, closes the history of their relations with the Church of +Greece. The clergy and people of the new kingdom were equally +determined to throw off completely and for ever the ecclesiastical +tyranny of Constantinople. At the same time they were disposed to act +with diplomatic formality and ecclesiastical courtesy, as well as in +conformity with the laws and principle of the orthodox church of the +East. The second article of the constitutional chart of the kingdom +defines in a precise and dignified manner the position of the national +church. "The orthodox Church of Greece, acknowledging our Lord Jesus +Christ as its head, is perpetually united in dogma with the great +Church of Constantinople and every other church holding the same +dogmas, preserving, as they do, immutably the holy canons of the +apostles and councils, and the sacred traditions. Nevertheless, it is +autocephalous, exercising independently of every other church its +rights of jurisdiction, and is administered by a sacred college of +bishops." This article was established in 1844. In 1850, the clergy +obtained from the government the appointment of a commission, composed +of one clergyman, the archimandrite Michael Apostolides, professor of +theology in the University of Athens, and one layman, Peter +Deligianni, _chargé d'affaires_ at Constantinople, to establish +concordats with the patriarchate and the governing synod of Russia, on +the basis of the above cited article of the Greek constitution. In +lieu of this proposed concordat, the Greek commissioners were duped by +the patriarchal synod into signing a synodal act, in which the +Patriarch of Constantinople, qualifying his see as the vine of which +other churches are the branches, and styling himself and his +associates [Greek text]--"Watchful shepherds and scrupulous guardians +of the canons of the church"--pretends by his own authority to grant +independent jurisdiction to the Church of Greece as a privilege. At +the same time he designates the Archbishop of Athens as the perpetual +president of the synod, ordains that the holy chrism shall always be +brought from Constantinople, and imposes other obligations intended to +serve as signs of dependence on the Patriarchal Church. The Greek +parliament, however, annulled this concordat, and the synod of Greek +bishops at Athens determined that henceforth there should be no +relation between the Church of Greece and that of Constantinople, +subsequently even forbidding priests ordained out of {10} the kingdom +to officiate in the priesthood. Although the Greek clergy had shown +themselves so forbearing and patient, it seems that the arrogance and +perfidy of the clergy of Constantinople had at last roused their just +indignation. The learned archimandrite Pharmacides published a book +against the synodal act and the policy of the Constantinopolitan +clergy, entitled "Antitomos; or, Concerning the Truth," in which he +ridicules the pompous pretensions which they make to pastoral +vigilance and fidelity in these words: + +"Since you obtained the sacerdotal dignity by purchase, if you had +really the intention in becoming bishops to watch and to fatigue +yourselves by guarding the Church, no one of you would be a bishop; +for you would not have spent your money in buying vigils and labors." + +Such being the nature of the solicitude of these watchful pastors and +scrupulous guardians of the canons for the welfare of those over whom +they claim a patriarchal authority, we need not be surprised at any +amount of reckless contempt which they may show for the general +interests of Christendom, and the admonitions they from time to time +receive from the veritable pastor of the flock of Christ. +Nevertheless, we cannot but wonder that the respectable portion of the +Oriental episcopate should permit themselves to be compromised by an +act which seems to cap the climax of even Byzantine stupidity and +effrontery. We refer to the reply to the noble and paternal encyclical +of Pius IX. to the Oriental bishops, put forth by Anthimus, the late +patriarch. Anthimus himself was notorious throughout the city for his +habits of drunkenness, which were so gross as to incapacitate him from +all business and expose him to the most ignominious insults even from +his own subordinates. The letter which he and several of his bishops +subscribed and sent to the Holy Father was written by the monk +Constantine OEconomus, and, in answer to the earnest and affectionate +appeals of the Holy Father to return to the unity of the Catholic +Church, makes the following astounding statement: + +"The three other patriarchs, in difficult questions, demand the +fraternal counsels of the one of Constantinople, _because that city is +the imperial residence_, and this patriarch has the synodal primacy. +If the question can be settled by his fraternal co-operation, very +well. But if not, the matter is _referred to the government_ (_i.e._, +Ottoman), _according to the established laws_." + +We think that the reason of the grave charge of schism, heresy, and +apostacy from the fundamental, constitutive principles of the Catholic +Church, which we have made against the higher clergy of +Constantinople, will now be apparent to every candid reader. The +history of their action in relation to the Church of Greece proves +that their principles and policy tend to disintegrate within itself +still more that portion of Christendom which they have alienated from +the communion of Rome and the West, and thus to increase the force of +the movement of decentralization, and to augment the number of +separate, local, mutually independent, and hostile communions. That +the natural tendency of this principle is to produce dogmatic +dissensions, and to efface the idea of Catholic unity, is too evident +from past history to need proof. It is only neutralized in the East by +the stagnation of thought, and the consequent immobility of the +Oriental mind from its old, long established traditions. The +essentially schismatical _virus_ of the principle is in the +subordination of organic, hierarchical unity to the temporal power and +the civil constitution of states, or the church-and-state principle in +its most odious form, which was never more grossly expressed than in +the letter above cited of Anthimus. This principle not only tends to +increase disintegration in the church, but to bar the way to a +reintegration in unity, and to destroy all desire of a return to +unity, as is also amply proved by the acts of the clergy of +Constantinople. A schismatical principle held {11} and acted on in +such a way as to make schism a perpetual condition, and thus not +merely to interrupt communion for a time but to destroy the idea of +Catholic unity, becomes heretical. Moreover, when doctrinal forms of +expressing dogmas of faith, or particular forms of administering the +rites of religion, are without authority set forth as essential +conditions of orthodoxy, and made the basis of a judgment of heresy +against other churches, those who make this false dogmatic standard +are guilty of heresy. This is the case with the clergy of +Constantinople, who make the difference respecting the use of +"Filioque" in the Creed the pretext for accusing the Latin Church of +heresy, and who deal similarly with the doctrine of purgatory, and the +questions respecting unleavened bread in the eucharist and immersion +in baptism. They have constantly persisted in their effort to +establish an essential dogmatic difference between the Latin and Greek +Churches and to make the peculiarities of the Greek rite essential +terms of Catholic communion, in order to widen and perpetuate the +breach between the East and West, and to maintain their own usurped +principality. They have been the authors of the schism, its obstinate +promoters, the principal cause of thrusting it upon the other parts of +the Eastern Church, and the chief instrument of thwarting the +charitable efforts of the Holy See for the spiritual good of the +Oriental Christians. They have done it in spite of the best and most +ample opportunities of knowing the utter falsehood of all the grounds +on which their schism is based, in the face of the example and the +writings of the best and most learned of their own predecessors, and +with a recklessness of consequences, and a disregard of the interests +of their own people and of religion itself, which merits for them the +name not only of heretics, but of apostates from all but the name and +outward profession of Christianity. + +This last portion of the case against them we must now prosecute a +little further, by showing what has been their conduct in the exercise +of their temporal power over their fellow-Christians in Turkey. + +The reasons and extent of the civil authority conferred upon the +Patriarch Gennadius by Mahomet II. have already been exposed. It is +obvious that although this authority would have enabled the governing +clergy to succor and console their unhappy people in their condition +of miserable slavery, if they had been possessed of truly apostolic +virtue, it opened the way to the most frightful tyranny and +oppression, by presenting to the worst and most ambitious men a strong +motive to aspire to the highest offices in the church. No form of +government can be worse than that of privileged slaves of a despot +over their fellow-slaves. Accordingly, but a short time elapsed before +the unhappy Christians of Turkey began to suffer from the effects of +this terrible system. Simoniacal bishops who bought their own dignity +by bribing the sultans and their favorites, and sold all the inferior +offices in their gift to the highest bidder; who were careless and +faithless in the discharge of their spiritual duties; and who had +apostatized from the communion of the Catholic Church, would, of +course, exercise their civil functions in the same spirit and +according to the same policy. They associated themselves intimately +with the Janissaries, on whom they relied for the maintenance of their +power; gave their system of policy the name of the "System of +_Cara-Casan_," that is, "Ecclesiastical Janissary System;" enrolled +themselves as members of the _Ortas_ or Janissary companies, and bore +their distinguishing marks tattooed on their arms. This redoubtable +body found its most powerful ally in the clergy up to the time of its +destruction by Mahmoud II. The author of the work whose title is +placed at the head of this article, James G. Pitzipios, is a native +Christian subject of the Sultan of Turkey, and was the secretary of an +imperial commission appointed to examine into the {12} civil and +financial administration of the Christian communities, as well as to +hear their complaints against their rulers. His position and +circumstances, therefore, have enabled him to investigate the matter +thoroughly. His estimate of the civil administration of the clergy of +the patriarchate from the time of Mahomet II. to that of Mahmoud II.-- +that is, from the Turkish conquest to the projected reformation in the +Ottoman government--is expressed in these words: + + "We have seen why it was that the Sultan Mahomet II. delegated the + entire temporal power over his Christian subjects to the Patriarch + Gennadius and his successors; gave to the religious head of the + Christians of his empire the title of _Milet-bachi_, and rendered + him the absolute master of the lot of all his co-religionists, as + well as responsible for their conduct and for their fulfilment of + all duties and obligations toward the government. Such an + arrangement was calculated to produce in its commencement some + alleviations and even some advantages to these unfortunate + Christians, as in point of fact it actually happened. But it was + sure to degenerate sooner or later into a frightful tyranny, such as + is naturally that of privileged slaves placed over those of their + own race. Accordingly, as we have stated in several places already, + the clergy of Constantinople made use of all the means of + oppression, of vexation, and of pillage of which the cunning, the + depraved conscience, and the rapacity of slaves in authority are + capable. The clergy of Constantinople having become in this way the + absolute arbiters of the goods, the conscience, the social rights, + and indirectly even of the lives of all their Eastern + co-religionists, continued to abuse this temporal power not only + during the period of the old regime, but even after the destruction + of the Janissaries, and, again, after the reform in Turkey, and up + to the present moment" [Footnote 4] (1855). + + [Footnote 4: "L'Eglise Orientale," p. iv., pp. 17, 18.] + +The allusion to the reform in the lost clause of this extract requires +a fuller explanation, and this explanation will furnish the most +conclusive evidence of the degradation of the patriarchate, by showing +that not only have its clergy submitted to be the tools of the Ottoman +government when it was disposed to oppress the Christians in the worst +manner, but that they have even resisted and thwarted the efforts of +that government itself, when it was disposed to emancipate the +Christians from a part of their bondage. + +The Sultan Mahmoud I I., a man of superior genius and enlightened +views, devoted all the energies of his great mind to the effort of +restoring his empire, rapidly verging toward dissolution, to +prosperity and splendor. He devised for this end a gigantic scheme of +political reformation, one part of which was the abolition of all +civil distinction between his subjects of different religions. He was +unable to do more, during his lifetime, than barely to commence the +execution of his grand project. His son and successor, Abdul-Medjid, +continued to prosecute the same work, and, at the beginning of his +reign, published a decree called the _Tinzimat_, enjoining certain +reformations in the manner of administering law and justice in the +provinces. The Christian inhabitants of Turkey were the ones who ought +to have profited most by this decree. On the contrary, the very +privileges which it accorded them, by withdrawing them in great +measure from the authority of the local Mussulman tribunals, deprived +them of their only resource against the oppressions and exactions of +their own clergy, and rendered their condition worse. The bishops +succeeded in getting a more exclusive control than ever over all cases +of jurisdiction relating to Christians, and made use of their power to +fleece their people more unmercifully than they had ever done before. +Encouraged by the publication of die Tinzimat, these unhappy Christian +communities ventured to send remonstrances to the Ottoman {13} +government against their cruel and mercenary pastors. In consequence +of these remonstrances, the Porte addressed the following official +note, dated Feb. 4, 1850, to the Patriarch of Constantinople: + + "Since, according to the Christian religion, the bishops are the + pastors of the people, they ought to guide them in the right way, + protect them, and console them, but never oppress them. As, however, + many metropolitans and bishops commit actions in the provinces + _which even the most despicable of men would not dare to + perpetrate_, the Christian populations, crushed under this + oppression, address themselves continually to the government, + supplicating it to grant them its assistance and protection. + Consequently, as the government cannot refuse to take into + consideration these just complaints of its own subjects, it wills + absolutely that these disorders cease. It invites, therefore, the + patriarch to convoke an assembly of bishops and of the principal + laymen of his religion, and, in concert with them, to consider + fraternally of the means of doing away with these oppressions and + the just complaints in regard to them, by regulating their + ecclesiastical and communal administration in conformity with the + precepts of their own religion and with the instructions the + Tinzimat." [Footnote 5] + + [Footnote 5: Ibid., p. iii., p. 144.] + +A very edifying sermon this, from a Mohammedan minister of state to +the "spiritual head of the ancient and venerable Oriental Church!" +Like many other sermons, however, it did not produce a result +corresponding to its excellence. The good advice it contained was +followed up by levying a new tax. The patriarch sent immediately to +all the bishops a circular in which he prescribed to them "to admonish +the people, that since the government had imposed upon the church the +obligation of conforming to the demands of certain dioceses, and +applying everywhere the system of giving fixed salaries to the +bishops, the most holy patriarch is obliged to conform himself to the +orders of the government and to put them in execution as soon as +possible. But since both the general commune of Constantinople and the +particular ones of the several dioceses are burdened with debts which +amount to about 7,000,000 of piastres, it is just that the people +should previously pay off these debts; the bishops are, therefore, +ordered to proceed immediately to an exact enumeration of all the +Christian inhabitants of the cities, towns, and villages, without +excepting either widows or unmarried persons. In this way the +patriarchate, taking the census as its guide, can assign to each +Christian the sum which he is bound to pay for the pre-extinction of +the communal debts, and afterward apply the system of fixed episcopal +revenues." [Footnote 6] + + [Footnote 6: Ibid., p. 144., p. 145.] + +The poor people, terrified by this enormous tax, and by the +persecution which overtook the prime movers in the remonstrance, as +the secretary of the commission on the Tinzimat informs us, "swallowed +painfully their grievances and no longer dared to continue their just +reclamations to the government." The Ottoman government, intimidated +by the threats of the ecclesiastical Janissaries of the Cara-Casan, +"was obliged to yield to the force of circumstances, as they were used +to do in the time of their terrible _confrères_, and abandoned the +question completely." + +The Greek revolution has also in one way aggravated the lot of the +Christians of Turkey, by causing the compulsory or voluntary removal +from the capital of the principal merchants and other Christians of +superior station and influence, who formed the greatest check upon the +unworthy clerical rulers. Under the name of "primates of the nation," +they had a share in the management of ecclesiastical finances and +other temporal affairs, and as their compatriot, Mr. Pitzipios, +affirms, "these good citizens, inspired by their charitable {14} +sentiments, and encouraged by the influence which they had with the +Ottoman government, repressed greatly the abuses of the clergy, and +moderated, as far as they were able, the vexations of the people." +[Footnote 7] The men of this class who remained in Constantinople were +removed by the government, as foreigners, from all share in the +administration of Christian' affairs, and their places filled with the +creatures of the patriarchal clique, men of the lowest rank and +character, who were ready tools for every nefarious work. + + [Footnote 7: Ibid., p. 147.] + +As a natural consequence of the faithless abuse of the sacred +religious and civil trust committed to the higher clergy, they and +their inferior clergy are detested and despised by their people, who +are held in subjection to them only by physical coercion. Mr. +Pitzipios assures us that there is among them a very strong +predisposition to Protestantism. A form of deism, introduced by +Theophilus Cairy, a Greek priest, who died in prison in the year 1851, +made great progress before it was suppressed by the civil power, and +is now secretly working with great activity in Greece and Turkey. + +We cannot but think that the last and most degraded phase of the +Byzantine _Bas Empire_, impersonated in the schismatical patriarchate +of Constantinople, is destined soon to pass away. We hope and expect +soon to see the end of the Ottoman power, which alone sustains this +odious ecclesiastico-political tyranny. The signs of the political +horizon appear to indicate that Russia is destined to gain possession +of the ancient seat of the Greek empire. However this may be, if the +Church of Constantinople, and the other far more ancient churches +within her sphere of jurisdiction, are ever to be restored to a +healthy Christian vitality, and made to reflourish as of old, it must +be by a thorough ecclesiastical reformation, which shall sweep away +the present dominant clique in the clergy and the whole policy which +they have established. + +The beginning of this reformation has already been inaugurated in the +kingdom of Greece. The bishops of that kingdom, in recovering freedom +from the odious yoke of Constantinople, have recovered the character +of Christian prelates and pastors. The severe remarks which we have +made respecting the Oriental hierarchy must be understood as +applicable only to that particular clique who have heretofore made +themselves dominant through intrigue and violence. There no doubt have +been, and are, among the higher clergy of the Turkish empire, some +exceptions to the general rule of incompetence and moral unworthiness. +The Greek bishops themselves who were established in their sees under +the old regime, manifested by their open or tacit concurrence in the +revolution that virtue had not completely died out under the pressure +of a long slavery. Since the establishment of Grecian independence, +the measures they have taken, in concert with the other members of the +higher secular and monastic clergy and the government, for the +amelioration of religion, are such as to reflect honor on themselves, +and to give great promise for the future. They live in a simple and +frugal manner, and some of them, instead of leaving millions of +piastres to their relatives, like their Turkish brethren, have not +left behind them enough money to defray their own funeral expenses. +They endeavor to select the best subjects for ordination to the +priesthood and to give them a good theological and religious training. +Professorships of theological science are established in the +University of Athens. The catechism is carefully taught to the young +people and children, and every year ten of the most competent among +the clergy are sent at the public expense to preach throughout all the +towns and villages of the kingdom. Such is the happy result of the +successful effort of these noble Greeks, so endeared to every lover of +learning, valor, and {15} religion for the memories of their glorious +antiquity, to shake off the yoke of the sultans and the patriarchs of +Constantinople. It is this miserable amalgam of Moslem despotism, and +usurped or abused spiritual power in the hands of a degenerate clergy +at Constantinople, which is the great obstacle in the way of the +regeneration of the East. We have already seen that the ecclesiastical +tyranny of the patriarchate is now confined to the one hundred and +forty-two small bishoprics, and the few millions of people included in +them, which are situated in Turkey. Nevertheless, the political views +of the Russian emperors, and the traditional reverence of the Russian +clergy, still maintain the patriarch and his synod in a modified +spiritual supremacy over the Russian Church, to which two-thirds of +the Oriental rite belong. If Constantinople should fall into the hands +of any of the great powers of Western Christendom, of course the +Cara-Casan, or system of mixed ecclesiastical and civil despotism, +will be overturned, the patriarch will become a mere primate among the +other metropolitans of the nation, and the patriarchate be reduced to +a simply honorary dignity like that of the Western patriarchs of +Venice and Lisbon. If the Czar becomes the master of European Turkey, +the same result will take place, with this only exception, that the +See of Constantinople will become the primatial see of the Russian +empire, and the Russian hierarchy will take the place of the effete +Byzantine clergy, which they are far more worthy, from their learning +and strict morality, to occupy. + +What is to be the political and ecclesiastical destiny of the East, +and Russia, its gigantic infant, who can foretell, without prophetic +gifts? If the Russian emperors prove that they are destined and are +worthy to begin anew and to fulfil the grand design of Constantine, +Theodosius, Justinian, Pulcheria, and Irene, by creating a thoroughly +Christian empire of the East, we shall rejoice to see them enthroned +in Constantinople. If they are destined to restore the cross to the +dome of St. Sophia, and to renovate the ancient glory of that temple, +desecrated by Christian infamy more than by the Moslem crescent, we +shall exult in their achievement. If new Chrysostoms and Gregories +shall rise up to efface the dishonor of their predecessors, we will +forget the past, and give them the homage due to true and worthy +successors of the saints. We have no desire to see the Church of +Constantinople degraded, or the Eastern Church humiliated. The +Oriental Church is orthodox and catholic in its faith, and its several +great rites are fully sanctioned and protected by the Holy See. The +heresies which are found among a portion of its clergy are personal +heresies, and have never been established by any great synod, or +incorporated into their received doctrinal standards. We do not +condemn the great body of its people of even formal schism, but rather +compassionate them as suffering from a state of schism which has been +forced on them by a designing and unworthy faction, and is perpetuated +in great part through misunderstanding, prejudice, and national +antipathies. The causes and grounds of this unnatural state must +necessarily come up among them very soon for a more thorough +investigation. Study, thought, discussion, and contact with Western +Catholicism, as well as Western Protestantism and rationalism, will +compel them to place themselves face to face with their own hereditary +and traditional dogmas; and either to be consistent with themselves, +and submit to the supremacy of the Roman See, or to give up their +orthodoxy and open the doors to a religious revolution. We cannot deny +that the latter alternative is possible, although we are sure that Dr. +Pusey, and men like-minded with him, would deplore it as a great +calamity. We trust it will be otherwise. The Easter morning of +resurrection, which {16} we are now celebrating, dawned for us in _the +East_. It is the land, of Christ and his apostles, the birth-place of +our religion. We hope the day of resurrection for its decayed and +languishing churches may not be far distant. + +------ + +From The Month. + +SAINTS OF THE DESERT. + +BY THE REV. J. H. NEWMAN, D.D. + + + +1. Abbot Antony pointed out to a brother a stone, and said to him, +"Revile that stone, and beat it soundly." + +When he had done so, Antony said, "Did the stone say anything?" He +answered, "No." + +Then said Antony: "Unto this perfection shalt thou one day come." + +2. When Abbot Arsenius was ill, they laid him on a mat, and put a pillow +under his head, and a brother was scandalized. + +Then said his attendant to the brother: "What were you before you were +a monk?" He answered, "A shepherd." Then he asked again, "And do you +live a harder or an easier life now than then?" He replied, "I have +more comforts now." Then said the other, "Seest thou this abbot? When +he was in the world he was the father of emperors. A thousand slaves +with golden girdles and tippets of velvet waited on him, and rich +carpets were spread under him. _Thou_ hast gained by the change which +has made thee a monk; it is thou who art now encompassed with +comforts, but he is afflicted." + +3. When Abbot Agatho was near his end, he remained for three days with +his eyes open and steadily fixed. + +His brethren shook him, sayings "Abbot, where are you?" + +He replied, "I stand before the judgment seat." + +They said, "What, father! do you you too fear? think of your works." + +He made answer: "I have no confidence till I shall have met my God." + +4. Abbot Pastor was asked, "Is it good to cloak a brother's fault?" + +He answered: "As often as we hide a brother's sin, God hides one of +ours, but he tells ours in that hour in which we tell our brother's." + +5. The Abbot Alonius said: "Unless a man says in his heart, I and my +God are the only two in the world, he will not have rest." + +6. Abbot Pambo, being summoned by St. Athanasius to Alexandria, met an +actress, and forthwith began to weep. "I weep," he said, "because I do +not strive to please my God as she strives to please the impure." + +7. An old monk fell sick and for many days could not eat, and his +novice made him some pudding. There was a vessel of honey, and there +was another vessel of linseed oil for the lamp, good for nothing else, +for it was rancid. The novice mistook, and mixed up the oil in the +pudding. The old man said not a word, but ate it. + +The novice pressed him, and helped him a second time, and the old man +ate again. + +When he offered it the third time, the old man said, "I have had +enough;" but the novice cried, "Indeed, it is very good. I will eat +some with you." + +When he had tasted it, he fell on his face and said: "Father, I shall +be the death of you! Why didn't you speak?" + +The old man answered: "Had it been God's will that I should eat honey, +honey thou wouldst have given me." + +{17} + + +From The Literary Workman. + +JENIFER'S PRAYER. + +BY OLIVER CRANE. + +IN THREE PARTS. + + +I. + +He and she stood in a room in an inn in the town of Hull--and how she +wept! Crying as a child cries, with a woman's feelings joining +exquisite pain to those tears; which tears, in a way wonderful and +peculiar to beautiful women, scarcely disordered her face, or gave +anything worse to her countenance than an indescribably pathetic +tenderness. + +He was older than she was by full ten years. He only watched her. And +if the most acute of my readers had watched _him_, they would have +been no wiser for their scrutiny. + +At last she left the room; he had opened the door and offered his hand +to her. It was night; and she changed her chamber-candle from her +right hand to her left, and gave that right hand to him. He held it, +while he said: "I spoke because I dread the influence of the house we +are going to, and of those whom you will meet there." + +"Thank you. Good night" And so she got to a great dark bed-room, and +knelt down, like a good girl as she was, and cried no more, but was in +bed and asleep before he had left the place he had taken by the side +of the sitting-room fire, leaning thoughtfully against the +mantel-shelf, when her absence had made the room lonely. + +Then he ran down stairs and rushed out into the streets of the kingly +Hull--Kingston of the day of Edward I. The man we speak of was no +antiquary, and he troubled himself neither with the Kingston of the +royal Edward nor the _Vaccaria_ of the abbot from whom the place was +bought; he walked at a quick pace through streets dim and streets +lighted, toward the ships, or among the houses; to where he could see +the great headland of Holderness, or behold nothing at all but the +brick wall that prevented his going further, and told him by strong +facts that he had lost his way. So he wandered, walking fast +often--again, walking slowly; his head bowed down, his features +working, and his eyes flashing--clenched hands, or hands clasped on +his breast, as if to keep down the surging waves of memory, which +carried on their crests many things which now he could only gnash his +teeth at in withering vexation. + +He and she had come from Scotland. I have said that she was +beautiful--she was English, too; but he was Scotch born and bred, and +not dark and stem, or really wild or poetic, as a Scotchman in a story +ought to be. He was simply a strong, well-formed man, of dark, ruddy +complexion, and fine, thick, waving brown hair. He might have been a +nobleman, or a royal descendant of Hull's own king. He looked it all, +without being downright handsome. But he was, in fact, only one of the +many men who have come into a thousand a year too soon for the +preservation of prudence. Between sixteen, when he succeeded to it, +and twenty-one, when he could spend it, he had committed many follies, +and found friends who turned out worse than declared enemies--since +twenty-one he had fallen {18} in love more than once. He had been +praised, blamed, accused, acquitted. But whether or not this man was +good or bad, no living soul could tell. He was well off, well looking, +well read, and in good company. He re-entered the inn at Hull that +April night, stood by the fire smoking, asked for a cup of strong +coffee, went to bed. + +The next morning the two met at breakfast They were going south. No +matter where. Whether to the dreamy vales of Devonshire, to verdant +Somersetshire, or the gardens of Hampshire--no matter. They were going +to what the north Britons call the south. And it did not mean Algeria. +Railways were not everywhere then as railways are now. They had to +travel nearly all day, then to "coach it" to a great town, in whose +history coaches have now long been of the past. Then to get on a +second day by the old "fast four-horse," and to arrive about five +o'clock at a little quiet country town, where a carriage would take +them to the friends and the house whose influence he dreaded. + +In fact, that night, in the inn sitting-room, he had offered marriage +to the girl whom he had in charge for safe guardianship on so long a +journey to her far-off home where he was to be a guest. She had felt +that he had abused his trust and taken an unfair advantage of her; +also, she was in that peculiarly feminine state of mind which is +neither expressed by _no_ nor by _yes_. She had upbraided him. He, +pleading guilty in his soul, was in a horror at the thought of losing +her; losing her in that way too, because he had done wrong. Being +miserable, he had shown his misery as a strong man may. He spoke, and +self-reproachfully; but, as he pleaded, he betrayed all he felt. The +girl saw his clasped hands, his bent form, as he leaned down from the +chair on which he sat in the straggling attitude which expressed a +disordered mind. He spoke, looking at the carpet, not loud nor long, +but with a terrible earnestness that frightened the girl, and then she +cried all the more, and seemed to shrink away as if in alarm, and yet +almost angrily. Why would he speak so fiercely--why had he taken this +advantage of her? + +Then he had risen up quickly, and said, "Well, you know all now. We +will talk of something else." But she only shook her head and moved +away, and, as we have seen, went to bed. + +The next morning they met calmly enough. On his side it was done with +an effort; on hers without effort, yet with a little trembling fear, +which went when she saw his calm, and she poured out tea, and he drank +it, and only a rather extraordinary silence told of too much having +being said the night before. + +Now, why was all this? Why were this man and this young English girl +travelling thus to the sweet south coast, and to expecting friends? + +While they are travelling on their way, we, you and I, dear reader, +will not only get on before them, but also turn back the pages of +life's story, and read its secrets. + +They were going to a great house in a fine park, where fern waved its +tall, mounted feathers of green, and hid the dappled deer from sight-- +where great ancestral oaks spread protecting branches; where hawthorn +trees, that it had taken three generations of men to make, stood, +large, thick, knotted, twisted--strange, dark, stunted looking trees +they looked, till spring came, and no green was like their green, and +the glory of their flower-wreaths people made pilgrimages to see. The +place was called Beremouth. + +A mile and a half off was a town; one of those odd little old places +which tell of days and fashions past away. A very respectable place. +There had lived in Marston the dowager ladies of old country families, +in houses which had no pretensions to grandeur as you passed them in +the extremely quiet street, but which on the other side broke out into +bay windows, garden fronts, charming conservatories, and a {19} good +many other things which help to make life pleasant. So the inhabitants +of Marston were not all mere country-town's people. They knew +themselves to be _somebodies_ and they never forgot it. + +Now, in this town dwelt a certain widow lady; poor she was, but she +had a pedigree and two beautiful daughters. Mary and Lucia Morier were +not two commonly, or even uncommonly, pretty girls; they were +wonderfully beautiful, people said, and nothing less. So lovers came a +courting. One married a Scotchman, a Mr. Erskine. They liked each +other quite well enough, Lucia thought, when she made her promises, +and received his; and so they did. They lived happily; did good; +wished for children but never had any, and so adopted Mr. Erskine's +orphan nephew--namely, the very man who behaved with such strange +imprudence in the inn at Hull. Mr. Erskine the uncle was twenty years +older than Mrs. Erskine the aunt. Mr. Erskine the younger was but a +child when they adopted him. But he was their heir, as well as the +inheritor of his father's' fortune, and they loved and cared for him. + +Mary Morier did differently. She married at twenty, her younger sister +having married the month before at eighteen. Mary did differently, for +she did imprudently. They had had a brother who was an agent for +certain mines thirty miles off; and there he lived; but he came home +often enough, and made the house in the old town gay. A year before +the sister married, in fact while that sister was away on a visit to +friends in Scotland, the brother came home ill. He was ill for six +months. It is wonderful how much expense is incurred by a mother in +six months for a son who is sick. It made life very difficult. The +money to pay for Lucia's journey home had to be thought of. To be +sure, she was not there to eat and drink, but then her extra finery +had cost something. George had only earned one hundred a year. It had +not been more than enough to keep him. He came home ill with ten +pounds in his pocket, beside his half-year's rent, which would be due +the next month--certainly money at this time was wanted, for our +friends were sadly pinched. But the one most exemplary friend and +servant Jenifer was paid her wages, and tea and sugar money to the +day; and the doctor got so many guineas that he grew desperate and +suddenly refused to come--then repented, and made a Christian-like +bargain, that he would go on coming on condition that he never saw +another piece of any kind of money. + +Mary and her mother looked each other in the face one day, and that +look told all. There was some plate, and they had watches, and a +little fine old-fashioned jewelry--yes, they must go. They were +reduced to poverty at last--this was more than "limited means"--hard +penury had them with a desperate grasp. + +Fortune comes in many shapes, and not often openly, and with a +flourish of trumpets--neither did she come in that way now; but +shamefacedly, sneakingly, and ringing the door-bell with a meek, not +to say tremulous pull; and her shape was that of a broad-built, short, +wide-jawed, lanky-haired, pig-eyed, elderly man, with a curious +quantity of waistcoat showing, yet, generally, well dressed. "Your +mistress at home?" "Yes, Mr. Brewer." "Mr. George better?" "No. Never +will be, sir." "Bless me! I beg your pardon!" "Granted before 'tis +asked, sir." "Ah! yes; I have a little business to transact with your +mistress. Can I see her alone?" Mr. Brewer was shown by Jenifer into +the little right-hand parlor. He gravely took out a huge pocket-book, +and then a small parchment-covered account-book appeared. I believe he +had persuaded himself that he was really going to transact business, +and not to perform the neatest piece of deception that a {20} +respectable gentleman ever attempted. A lady entered the room. "Madam, +jour son has been my agent for mines three years--my mine _and land_ +agent since Christmas. He takes the additional work at seventy-five +pounds a year extra. The half of that is now due to him. I pay _that_ +myself. I have brought it" And thirty-seven pounds ten shillings Mr. +Brewer put on the table, saying, "I will take your receipt, madam. +Don't trouble Georges's head about business; for when you _do_ speak +of that you will have, I am sorry to say, to inform him that in _both_ +his places I have had to put another man. I have to give George three +months' payment at the rate of one hundred and seventy pounds a year, +as I gave him no quarter's warning. That is business, do you +understand?" asked Mr. Brewer. "It is for my son to discharge himself, +sir--since he cannot"--the mother's voice faltered. "Ah--only he +didn't, and I did," said Mr. Brewer. "Your receipt? When your son +recovers, let him apply to me. I am sorry to end our connexion so +abruptly. But it is business. Business, you know"--and there Mr. +Brewer stopped, for Mary Morier was in the room, and her beauty filled +it, or seemed to do so. And Mr. Brewer departed muttering, as he had +muttered before often, "the most beautiful girl in the world." Still, +he had an uncomfortable sensation, for he felt he was an underhand +sneak, and that Mary had found him out; and so she had. She knew that +her brother had been "discharged" only to afford a pretext for giving +the quarter's money; and she was sure that his being land agent, at an +additional seventy-five pounds a year, was a pure unadulterated +fiction. + +Mr. Brewer was an extraordinary man. He had a turn for the +supernatural. He would have liked above all things to have worked +miracles. He did do odd things, such as we have seen, which he made, +by means of the poetic quality that characterized him, a purely +natural act. He was praising George for a saving, prudent, industrious +young man, who had never drawn the whole of his last year's salary, +before an hour was over. And his story looked so like truth that he +believed it himself. + +Mr. Brewer was what people call "a risen man." But then his father had +been rising--and, for the matter of that, his grandfather too. All +their fortunes had flowed into the life of the man who has got into +this story; and he, having had a tide of prosperity exceeding all +others, in height, and strength, and riches, had found himself +stranded on the great shore of society, at forty years of age, with +more thousands a year than he liked to be generally known. Could he +have transformed himself into a benignant fairy he would have been +very happy, and acts of mercy would have abounded on the earth. But +no--Mr. Brewer was Mr. Brewer, and anything less poetic to look +at--more impossible as to wands, and wings, and good fairy appendages, +it is difficult to imagine. Mr. Brewer was a middle-aged man, with +hands in his pockets; plain truth is always respectable. There it is. + +But there was a Mrs. Brewer. Now Mrs. Brewer was an excellent woman, +but not excellent after the manner of her husband. She was three years +older. They had not been in love. They had married at an epoch in Mr. +Brewer's life when public affairs occupied his time so entirely as to +make it desirable to have what people call a "missus;" we are afraid +that Mr. Brewer himself so called the article, a "missus, at home." +Mrs. Brewer had been "a widow lady--young--of a sociable and domestic +disposition" who "desired to be housekeeper--to be treated +confidentially, and as one of the family--to a widower--with or +without children." On inquiry, it was found that young Mrs. Smith had +not irrevocably determined that the owner of the house that she was to +keep should have been the husband of one wife, undoubtedly {21} dead; +the widower was an expression only, a sort of modest way of putting +the plain fact of a single man, or a man capable of matrimony--the +expression meant all that; and when Mrs. Smith entered on the +housekeeping, she acted up to the meaning of the advertisement, and +married Mr. Brewer. Neither had ever repented. Let that be understood. +Only, Mr. Brewer, when he knew he could live in a great house, dine +off silver, keep a four-in-hand, or a pack of hounds, or enter on any +other legitimate mode of spending money, did none of them; but eased +his mind and his pocket by such contrivances as we have seen resorted +to in the presence of the beautiful Mary Morier. He tried curious +experiments of what a man would do with ten pounds. He had dangerous +notions as to people addicted to certain villanies being cured of +their moral diseases by the administration of a hundred a year. In +some round-about ways he had put the idea to the proof, and not always +with satisfactory results. He held as an article of faith--nobody +could guess where he found it--that there were people in the world who +could go straighter in prosperity than in adversity. He never would +believe that adversity was a thing to be suffered. He had replied to a +Protestant divine on that subject, illustrated in the case of a +starving family, that that might be, only it was no concern of his, +and he would not act upon the theory. And the result was a thriving, +thankful family in Australia, to whom Mr. Brewer was always, ever +after, sending valuable commodities, and receiving flower-seeds and +skins of gaudy feathered birds in return. + +Mr. Brewer had a daughter, Claudia was her name. "A Bible name," said +Mr. Brewer, and bowed his head, and felt he had done his duty by the +girl. What more could he do? She went to school, and was at school +when he was paying money in Mrs. Morier's parlor. She was then ten +years old; and being a clever child, she had, in the holidays just +over, chosen to talk French, and nothing else, to a friend whom she +had been allowed to bring with her. A thing that had caused great +perturbation in the soul of her honest father, who prayed in a +wordless, but real anxiety, that the Bible name might not be thrown +away on the glib-tongued little gipsy. It will be perceived that +Claudia was a difficulty. + +Now, when Mr. Brewer was gone out of Mrs. Morier's house, the mother +took up the money, wiped her eyes, and said, "What a good boy George +was." And Mary said "_Yes;_" and knew in her heart that if there had +been any chance of George living, Mr. Brewer would never have done +_that_. + +George died. There was money, just enough for all wants. Lucia came +home engaged to the married to Mr. Erskine. And when she was gone +there went with her a certain seven hundred pounds, her fortune, +settled--what a silly mockery Mr. Erskine thought it--on her children. +The loss made the two who were left very poor. Lucia sent her mother +gifts, but the regular and to be reckoned on eight-and-twenty pounds a +year were gone. She who had eaten, drank, and dressed was gone +too--but still it was a loss; and Mary and her mother were poor. Also, +Mary had long been engaged to be married to the son of a younger +branch of a great county family house, Lansdowne Lorimer by name. He +was in an attorney's office in Marston. In that old-world place, the +attorney, himself of a county family, was a great man. It was hard to +see Lucia marry a man of money and land, young Lorimer thought, so he +advised Mary to assert their independence of all earthly +considerations, and marry too. And they did so. + +The young man had no father or mother. He had angry uncles and +insolent aunts, and family friends, all to be respected, and prophets +of evil, every one of them. He had, also, a place in the office, a +clear head, a determined will, a handsome {22} person, a good +pedigree, and a beautiful wife. She, also, had her eight-and-twenty +pounds a year. But they gave it back regularly to Mrs. Morier; for, +you know, they, the young people, _were_ young, and they could work. +Mrs. Morier never spent this money. She and Jenifer, the prime +minister of that court of loyal love, put it by, against the evil day, +and they had just enough for themselves and the cat to live upon +without it. + +The county families asked their imprudent kinsman to visit them with +his bride. How they flouted her. How they advised her. How they +congratulated her that she had always been poor. How they assured her +that she would be poor for ever. How, too, they feared that Lansdowne +would never bear hard work, nor anxiety, nor any other of those +troubles which were so very sure to happen. How surprised they were at +the three pretty silk dresses, the one plain white muslin, and the +smart best white net. How they scorned when they heard that she and +Jenifer, and her mother, and a girl at eightpence a day, had made them +all. And, then, how they sunned themselves in her wonderful beauty, +and accepted the world's praises of it, and kept the triumph +themselves, and handed over to her the gravest warnings of its being a +dangerous gift. + +Dangerous, indeed! it was the pride of Lorimer's life. And Mary was +accomplished, far more really accomplished than the lazy, half-taught +creatures who had never said to themselves that they might have to +play and sing, and speak French and Italian, for their or their +children's bread. Mary had said it to herself many a time since her +heart had been given to the man who was her husband. A true, brave, +loving heart it was, and that which her common sense had whispered to +it that heart was strong to do, and would be found doing if the day of +necessity ever came. So, at that Castle Dangerous where the bride and +bridegroom were staying, Mary outshone others, and was not the +better loved for that; and one old Lady Caroline crowned the triumph +by ordering a piano-forte for the new home at Marston, with a savage +"Keep up what you know, child; you may be glad of it one day." Old +Lady Caroline was generally considered as a high-bred privileged +savage. But that was the only savage thing she ever said to Mary. She +told Lorimer that he was a selfish, unprincipled brute for marrying +anybody so perfect and so pretty. And Lorimer bore her +misrepresentations with remarkable patience, only making her a +ceremonious bow, and saying in a low voice, "You know better." "I know +you will starve," and she walked off without an answer. + +They did not starve. In fact, they prospered, till one sad day when +Lorimer caught cold--and again and again caught cold--cough, pain, +symptoms of consumption--a short, sad story; and then the great end, +death. Mary was a widow three years after her wedding day, with a +child of two years of age at her side, and an income from a life +insurance made by her husband of one hundred a year. We have seen the +child--grown to a beautiful girl of seventeen--we have seen her in the +room with Mr. Erskine, at the inn at Hull. + +Mrs. Lorimer went back to live with her mother, Jenifer, and the great +white cat. + +The year after this great change, Mrs. Brewer died, and Claudia at +thirteen was a greater difficulty than ever. The first holidays after +the departure of the good mother, the puzzled father had written to +the two Miss Gainsboroughs to bring the child to Marston and stay at +his house during the holidays. He entertained them for a week, and +then went off on a tour through Holland. The next holidays he proposed +that they should take a house at Brighton, and that he should pay all +expenses. This, too, was done, and Mr. Brewer went to a hotel and +there made friends with his precocious daughter in a way that +surprised and pleased {23} him. He visited the young lady, and she +entertained him. He hired horses, and they rode together. He took +boxes at the theatre, and they made parties and went together. He gave +the girl jewelry and fine clothes, and they really got to know each +other, and to enjoy life together as could never have been the case +had they not been thus left to their own way. The child no longer felt +herself of a different world from that of her parents--the father had +a companion in the child who could grace his position, and keep her +own. They parted with love and anxious lookings forward to the summer +meeting. They were both in possession of a new happiness. When Mr. +Brewer got back to Marston, he led a dull, dreamy life--a year and a +half of widowhood passed--then he went to Mrs. Morier's, saw Mary, and +asked her to be his wife. It is not easy to declare why Mary Lorimer +said--after some weeks of wondering-mindedness--why she said "Yes." +She knew all Mr. Brewer's goodness. She preferred, no doubt, not to +wound a heart that had so often sympathized with the wounded. She +never, in her life, could have borne to see him vexed without great +vexation herself. She liked that he should be rewarded. She was +interested in Claudia. She liked the thought of two hundred a year +settled on her mother. She liked to feel that her own little Mary +might be brought up as grandly as any of those little saucy "county +family" damsels, her cousins, who already looked down on her, and +scorned her pink spotted calico frock. + +Mary and Mr. Brewer walked quietly to church; Mrs. Morier still in +astonishment, and Jenifer "dazed;" bat all the working people loved +Mr. Brewer. And they walked back, man and wife, to her mother's house, +and had a quiet substantial breakfast before they started for London. +And when there Mr. Brewer told her that they were not to return to the +respectable stone-fronted house facing the market-place in Marston, +but that he had bought Lord Byland's property--and that Beremouth was +theirs. Beremouth, with its spreading park, and river, and lake, its +miles of old pasture-land, its waving ferns, and dappled deer; +Beremouth, with its forest and gardens, royal oaks and twisted +hawthorn trees; Beremouth, the finest place in the county. And all +that Mary felt was, that he who had kept this secret, had had a true +hero's delicacy, and had never thought to bribe her, or to get her by +purchase into his home. I think she almost loved him then. + +In due time, after perhaps six months of wandering, and of +preparation, Mr. and Mrs. Brewer arrived at their new home, made +glorious by all that taste and art could do, with London energy +working with the power of gold. With them came Claudia. The child +loved her new mother with an abandonment of heart and a perfect +approval. She was still too young to argue, but she was not too young +to feel. The mother she had now got, though not much more than ten +years older than herself, was the mother to love, admire, delight +in--is the mother who could understand her. + +Then Beremouth just suited this young lady's idea of what was worth +having in this world; and without any evil thought of the homely +mother who had gone, there was a thought that "Mother-Mary," as Mrs. +Brewer was called by her step-daughter, looked right at Beremouth, and +that another class of person would have looked wrong there--so wrong +that her father under such circumstances would never have put himself +in the position of trying the experiment. + +Minnie Lorimer was very happy in her great play-ground; for all the +world, and all life, was play to little Minnie. She loved her new +sister; and the new sister patronized and petted her, so all seemed +right. It was, indeed, a great happiness for Claudia that her father +had chosen Mary Lorimer. Claudia was a vixenish, little handsome +gipsy; very clever, very {24} high-spirited, full of life, health, and +fun--a girl who could have yielded to very few, and who brought the +homage of heart and mind to "Mother-Mary," and rejoiced in doing it. +These two grew to be great friends, and when after three years Claudia +came home and came out, all parties were happy. + +In the meantime Mr. Brewer's way in the world had been straight, +plain, and rapidly travelled. The county was at his feet. Mary was no +longer congratulated on having been brought up to poverty. Behind her +back there were plenty of people to say that Mr. Brewer was happy in +having for his wife a well connected gentlewoman. Her pedigree was +told, her poverty forgotten. Her singing and playing, dancing and +drawing, were none the worse for unknown thousands a year. And people +wondered less openly at the splendor of velvets and diamonds than they +had at the new muslin gown. To Mary herself life was very different in +every way. Daily, more and more, she admired her husband, and approved +of him. It was the awakening into life of a new set of feelings. She +knew none of the love and devotion she had felt for her first husband. +Mr. Brewer never expected any of it. But he intended that she should, +in some other indescribable manner, fall in love with him, and she was +doing it every day--which thing her husband saw, and welcomed life +with great satisfaction in consequence. + +It was when Claudia came out that the man we have seen, Horace +Erskine, first came to them. He was just of age. Mary did not like +him. She could give no reason for it. Her sister had always praised +him--but Mary _could_ not like him. He came to them for a series of +gay doings, and Mr. Brewer admired him, and Claudia--poor little +Claudia! She gave him that strong heart of hers; that spirit that +could break sooner than bend was quite enslaved--she loved him, and he +had asked for her love, and vowed a hundred times that he could never +be happy without it. He asked her of her father, and Mr. Brewer +consented. It was not for Mary to say no; but her heart went cold in +its fear, and she was very sorry. + +The Erskines in Scotland were delighted--all deemed doing well. But +when Horace Erskine talked to Mr. Brewer about money, he was told that +Claudia would have on her marriage five thousand pounds; and ten +thousand more if she survived him would be forthcoming on his death-- +that was all. "Enough for a woman," said Mr. Brewer; and Erskine was +silent. It went on for a few weeks, Horace, being flighty and odd, +Claudia, for the first time in her life, humble and endearing. Then he +told her that to him money was necessary; then he asked her to appeal +to her father for more; then she treated the request lightly, and, at +last, positively refused. If she had not enough, he could leave her. +If he left her, would she take the blame on herself? It would injure +him in his future hopes and prospects to have it supposed to be _his_ +doing if they parted? Yes, she said. It was the easiest thing in the +world. Who cared?--not he of course--and, certainly, not Claudia +Brewer. It broke her heart to find him vile. But she was too +discerning not to see the truth; her great thought now was to hide it. +To hide too from every one, even from "Mother-Mary," that her heart +felt death-struck--that the whole place was poisoned to her--that life +at Beremouth was loathsome. + +She took a strange way of hiding it. + +A county election was going on. The man whom Mr. Brewer hoped to see +elected was a guest at Beremouth. An old, grey-haired, worldly, +statesmanlike man. A man who petted Claudia, and admired her; and who +suddenly woke up one day to a thought--a question--a species of +amusing suggestion, which grew into a {25} profound wonder, and then +even warmed into a hope--surely that pretty bright young heiress liked +him, had a fancy to be the second Lady Greystock. It was a droll +thought at first, and he played with it; a flattering fancy, and he +encouraged it. He was an honest man. He knew that he was great, +clever, learned. Was there anything so wonderful in a woman loving +him? He settled the question by asking Claudia. And she promised to be +his wife with a real and undisguised gladness. Her spirit and her +determination were treading the life out of her heart. She was sincere +in her gladness. She thought she could welcome any duties that took +her away from life at Beremouth, and gave her place and position +elsewhere. + +Mary suspected much, and feared everything. But Claudia felt and knew +too much to speak one word of the world of hope and joy and love that +had gone away from her. She declared that she liked her old love, and +gloried in his grey hairs, and in the great heart that had stooped to +ask for hers. + +Now what are we to say of Horace Erskine? Was he wholly bad? First, he +had never loved Claudia with a real devotion. He had admired her; she +had loved him. He had gambled--green turf and green cloth--gambled +and recklessly indulged himself till he had got upon the way to ruin, +and had begun the downward path, and was glad to be stopped in that +slippery descent by a marriage with an heiress. There was a sparkle, +an originality, about Claudia. It was impossible not to be taken with +her. But Claudia with only _that_ fortune was of no use to him. He +knew she was brave and true-hearted; so he boldly asked her to guard +his name--in fact, to give him up, and not injure his next chance with +a better heiress by telling the truth. _He_ told _her_ the truth; that +he wanted money, and money he must have. She would not tell him that +the worst part of her trial was the loss of her idol. It was despising +him that broke her heart. But because he had been her idol she would +never injure him--never tell. + +So the day came, and at Marston church she married Sir Geoffrey +Greystock, "Mother-Mary" wondering; Mr. Brewer believing, in the +innocence of his heart, that the fancy for Horace Erskine had been a +bit of the old wilfulness. "The last bit--the last," he said, as he +spoke of it to her that very day, making her chilled heart knock +against her side as he spoke, and kissed her, and sent her with +blessings from the Beremouth that she had married to get away from. + +_To get away_--it had more to do with her marrying than any other +thought. To get away from the house, the spreading pastures, the +bright garden, and above all from the _old deer pond_ in the park--the +most beautiful of all the many lovely spots that nature and art, and +time and taste, had joined to create and adorn Beremouth. The old deer +pond in the park! Sheltered by ancient oak; backed by interlacing +boughs of old hawthorn trees; shadowed by tall, shining, dark dense +holly, that glowed through the winter with its red berries, and +contrasted with the long fair wreaths of hawthorn flowers in the sweet +smiling spring. There, in this now dreaded place, Horace Erskine had +first spoken of love; and there how often had he promised her the +happiness that had gone out of her life--for ever. In the terrible +nights, when her broken-hearted pains were strongest, this deer pond +in the park had been before her closed eyes like a vision. In its +waters she saw in her sleep her face and his, so happy, so loving, so +trusting, so true. Then the picture in that water changed, and she +watched it in her feverish dreams with horror, but yet was obliged to +gaze, and the truth went out of his face, and the terror came into +hers. And, worse and worse, he grew threatening--he was cold--he had +never loved--he was killing her; and she fell, fell from her height of +happiness; no protecting {26} arm stayed her, and the dark waters +opened, and she heard the rushing sound of their deadly waves closing +over her, as she sunk--sunk--again and again, night after night Oh, to +get away, to get away! And she blessed Sir Geoffrey, and when he said +he was too old to wait for a wife she was glad, for she had no wish to +wait. Change, absence, another home, another life, another +world--these things she wanted, and they had come. Is it any wonder +that she took them as the man who is dying of thirst takes the +longed-for draught, and drains the cup of mercy to the dregs? + +It was a happy day to marry. Mr. Brewer had not only an excuse, but a +positively undeniable reason for being bountiful and kind. For once he +could openly, and as a matter of duty, make the sad hearts in +Marston--and elsewhere--sing for joy. His blessings flowed so +liberally that he had to apologize. It was only for once--he begged +everybody's pardon, but it could never happen again; he had but this +one child, and she was a bride, and so if they would forgive +everything this once! And many a new life of gladness was begun that +day; many a burden then lost its weight; many a record went up to the +Eternal memory to meet that man at the inevitable hour. + +Little Mary was the loveliest bridesmaid the world ever saw; standing +alone like an angel by her dark sister's side. She was the only thing +that Claudia grieved to leave. She was glad to flee away from +"Mother-Mary." She dreaded lest those sweet wistful eyes should read +her heart one day; and she could not help rejoicing to get away from +that honest, open-hearted father's sight. Her poor, wrecked, shrunken +heart--her withered life, could not bear the contrast with his free, +kind, bounteous spirit that gave such measure of love, pressed down +and running over, to all who wanted it. Her old husband, Sir Geoffrey, +resembled that great good heart in whose love she had learnt to think +all men true, more than did her young lover Horace Erskine--she could +be humble and thankful to Sir Geoffrey; a well-placed approval was a +better thing than an ill-placed love. So with that little vision of +beauty, Minnie Lorimer, by her side, Claudia became Sir Geoffrey's +wife. + +Four months past, the bride and bridegroom were entertaining a grand +party at their fine ancestral home, and Mr. Brewer was the father of a +son and heir. Horace Erskine read both announcements in the paper one +morning, and ground his teeth with vexation. He went to his desk and +took out three letters, a long lock of silky hair, a small +miniature--these things he had begged to keep. Laughing, he had argued +that he was almost a relation. His uncle had married "Mother-Mary's" +sister. She had had no strength to debate with him. She had chosen to +wear the mask of indifference, too, to him. He now made these things +into a parcel and sent them to Sir Geoffrey Greystock without one word +of explanation. When they were gone he wrote to his uncle, begged for +some money, got it, and started for Vienna. The money met him in +London, and he crossed to France the same day. + +In the midst of great happiness the strong heart of good Sir Geoffrey +stood still. His wife sought him. She found him in his chair in a fit. +On a little table by his side was the parcel just received. Claudia +knew all. She took the parcel into the room close by, called her +dressing room, rung for help, but in an hour Sir Geoffrey was dead; +and Claudia had burnt the letters and the lock of silky hair. + +The business of parliament, the excitement attendant on his marriage +with that beautiful girl, the entertainment of that great house full +of company--these reasons the world reckoned up, and found sufficient +to answer the questions and the wonderings on Sir Geoffrey's death. +But when those solemn walls no longer knew their master, Claudia, into +whose new life the new things held but an {27} unsteady place, grew +ill. First of all, sleepless nights: how could she sleep with the +sound of those waters by the deer pond in her ears? How could she help +gazing perpetually at the picture on the pond's still surface: Horace +and Sir Geoffrey, and herself not able to turn aside the death-stroke, +but standing, fettered by she knew not what, in powerless misery, only +obliged to see the changing face of her husband till the dead seemed +to be again before her, and Horace melted out of sight, and she woke, +dreading fever and praying against delirium? She was overcome at last. +Terrible hours came, and "Mother-Mary's" sweet face mingling with some +strong, subduing, life-endangering dream, was the first thing that +seemed to bring her back to better things, and to restore her to +herself. + +In fact, Claudia had had brain fever, and whether or not she was ever +to know real health again was a problem to be worked out by time. +Would she come back to her father's house? No! The very name of +Beremouth was to be avoided. Would she go abroad? Oh, no; there was a +dread of separation upon her. "Somewhere where you can easily hear of +me, and I of you; where you can come and see me, for I shall never see +Beremouth again." It was her own thought, and so, about five miles +from Beremouth, in the house of a Doctor Rankin, who took ladies out +of health into his family, Claudia determined to go. It was every way +the best thing that could be done, for every day showed more strongly +than the last that Claudia would never be what is emphatically called +"herself" again. So people said. + +Dr. Rankin was kind, learned, and wise; Mrs. Rankin warm-hearted and +friendly. Other patients beside Lady Greystock were there. It was not +a private asylum, and Claudia was not mad; it was really what it +called itself, a home which the sick might share, with medical +attendance, cheerful company, and out-door recreations in a well-kept +garden and extensive grounds of considerable beauty. Claudia had known +Dr. and Mrs. Rankin, and had called with her father at Blagden, where +they lived. And there her father and "Mother-Mary" took her three +months after her husband's death, looking really aged, feeble, and +strangely sad. + +After a time--it was a long time--Claudia was said to be well. +"Perfectly recovered," said Dr. Rankin, "and in really satisfactory +health." So she was when Minnie Lorimer stood in the room at the inn +in Hull, talking to that very Horace Erskine, who was bringing her +home from her aunt's in Scotland to her mother at Beremouth. + +"Sweet seventeen!" Very sweet and beautiful, pleasing the eye, +gratifying the mind, filling the heart with hope, and setting +imagination at play--Minnie Lorimer was beautiful, and with all that +peculiar beauty about her that belongs to "a spoilt child" who has not +been spoilt after all. + +Claudia--how old she looked! Claudia, with that one only shadow on her +once bright face, was still living with Dr. and Mrs. Rankin. It was +Lady Greystock's pleasure to live with them. She said she had grown +out of the position of a patient, and into their hearts as a friend. +"Was it not so?" she asked. It was impossible to deny that which +really brought happiness to everybody. "Well, then, I shall build on a +few rooms to the house, and I shall call them mine, and I shall add to +the coach-house, and hire a cottage for my groom and his wife--I shall +live here. Why not? You will take care of me, and feed me, and scold +me, and find me a good guidable creature. You know I shall be ill if +you refuse." + +It all happened as she chose. Hers was the prettiest carriage in the +county, the best horses, the most perfectly appointed little +household--for she had her own servants. Among her most devoted +friends were the good doctor and his wife. Lady Greystock was as +positive and as much given to {28} govern as the clever little Claudia +in school-girl days. But the arrangement was a success, and +"Mother-Mary," who saw her constantly, was very glad. Only one trouble +survived; Claudia would never go and stay at Beremouth. She would +drive her ponies merrily to the door, and even spend an hour or two +within the house, but never would she stay there--never! She used to +say to herself that she dared not trust herself with the things that +had witnessed her love, her sorrow, her marriage--with the things that +told her of him who had ruined everything like a murderer--as he was. + +And so, to save appearances, she used to say that she never stayed +away from Blagden for a single night, and she never left off black. It +was not that she wore a widow's dress, or covered up the glories of +her beautiful hair. She was but twenty-nine at the moment recorded in +the first page of this story. She was very thin and pale, but she was +a strong woman, and one who required no more care than any other +person; but she had determined never again to see Horace Erskine. What +he had done had become known to her, as we have seen. She only +bargained with life, as it were, in this way, that _that_ man should +be out of it for ever. And for this it was that she made her +resolution and kept it. + +Horace Erskine had been abroad for some years; but though she had felt +safe in that fact, she had looked into the future and kept her +resolution. And so she lived on at Blagden, doing good, blessing the +poor, comforting the afflicted, visiting the sick, and beautifying all +things, and adorning all places that came within her reach. Certain +things she was young enough to enjoy greatly; the chief of these was +the contemplation of Frederick Brewer, her half-brother, a fine boy of +nine years old, for nine years of widowhood had been passed, and +through all that time this boy, her dear father's son, had been Lady +Greystock's delight. She loved "Mother-Mary" all the better for having +given him to her father, and she felt a strong, unutterable +thanksgiving that, his birth having been expected, the test of whether +or not Horace Erskine loved her for herself had been applied before +she had become chained to so terrible a destiny as that of being wife +to a thankless, disappointed man. Terrible as her great trial had +been, she might have suffered that which, to one of her temper, would +have been far worse. So Fred Brewer would ride over to see his sister. +Day after day the boy's bright face would be laid beside her own, and +to him, and only to him, would she talk of Sir Geoffrey. Then they +would ride together down to Marston to see Mrs. Morier and Jenifer, +who was a true friend, and lived on those terms with the lady who +loved her well; then to the market-place where the old home stood, now +turned into an almshouse of an eccentric sort, with all rules included +under one head, that the dear old souls were to have just whatever +they wanted. Did Martha Gannet keep three parrots, and did they eat as +much as a young heifer? and scream, too? ah, that was their +nature--never go against a dumb creature's nature, Mr. Brewer said +there was always cruelty in that--and did they smell, and give +trouble, and would they be mischievous, and tear Mrs. Betty's cap? +Indeed. Mr. Brewer was delighted. An excellent excuse for giving new +caps to all the inmates, and to look up all troubles, and mend +everybody's griefs--such an excellent thing it was that the fact of +three parrots should lead to the discovery of so many disgraceful +neglects that Mr. Brewer begged leave to apologize very heartily and +sincerely while he diligently repaired them. It was a very odd school +to bring up young Freddy in. But we are obliged to say that he was not +at all the worse for it. + +And here we must say what we have not said before. Mr. Brewer was a +Catholic. He and Jenifer were {29} Catholics; Mrs. Brewer had not been +a Catholic; and Claudia had been left to her mother's teaching. When +Freddy was born, Mr. Brewer considered his ways. And what he saw in +his life we may see shortly. He had been born of a Catholic mother who +had died, and made his Protestant father promise to send him to a +Catholic school. He had stood alone in the world, he had always stood +alone in the world. He seemed to see nothing else. Three miles from +Marston was a little dirty sea-port, also a sort of fishing place. A +place that bore a bad character in a good many ways. Some people would +have finished that character by saying that there were Papists there. +To that place every Sunday Mr. Brewer went to mass. Many and many a +lift he had given to Jenifer on those days. How much Jenifer's talk +assisted his choice of Mary for his wife, we may guess. When Freddy +was born Jenifer said her first words on the subject of religion to +Mr. Brewer: "You will have him properly baptized:" "Of course." "Order +me the pony cart, and I'll go to Father Daniels." "I must tell Mrs. +Brewer." "Leave that to me--just send for the cart." It _was_ left to +Jenifer. By night the priest had come and gone. It had not been his +first visit. He had been there many times, and had known that he was +welcome. The Clayton mission had felt the blessing of Mr. Brewer's +gold. He had seldom been at the house in the market-place in Marston, +but at Beremouth Mary had plucked her finest flowers, and sent them +back in the old gentleman's gig, and he had been always made welcome +in her husband's house with a pretty grace and many pleasant +attentions. Now, when Freddy was baptized, Mr. Brewer went to his wife +and bent over her, and said solemnly, "Mary--my dear wife; Mary--I +thank thee, darling. I thank thee, my love." And the single tear that +fell on her cheek she never forgot. + +Then Mr. Brewer met Jenifer at his wife's door. "It's like a new life, +Jenifer." And the steady-mannered woman looked in his bright eyes and +saw how true his words were. + +"It's a steady life of doing good to everybody that you have ever led, +sir. It was a lonely life once, no doubt. I was dazed when she married +you. But, eh, master; I have _that_ to think about, and _that_ to pray +for, that a'most makes me believe in anything happening to _you_ for +good, when so much is asked for, day and night, in my own prayer." + +"Put _us_ into it; let me and mine be in Jenifer's prayer," he said, +and passed on. + + +TO BE CONTINUED. + +---- + +From The Month. + + +PROPOSED SUBSTITUTES FOR THE STEAM-ENGINE. + + +The present year has been remarkable for the large number of machines +invented for the purpose of superseding steam, in at least some of its +lighter tasks. Many of these are due to French engineers; being +further proofs, if any were required, of the great activity now +displayed in France in all matters of mechanical invention. + +Two of these new engines are especially interesting as illustrating +that all-important law in modern physics, the correlation or +convertibility of forces. By this is meant that the forces of +inanimate nature, such as light, heat, electricity--nay, even the +muscular and nerve forces of living beings--have such a mutual +dependence and connection that each one is only produced or called +into action by another, and only ceases to be manifest when it has +given birth to a fresh force in its turn. Thus motion (in the {30} +shape of friction) produces heat, electricity, or light; heat produces +light or electricity; electricity, magnetism; and so on in an endless +chain, which links together all the phenomena of this visible +universe. + +As a metaphysical principle, this is as old as Aristotle, and may be +found dimly foreshadowed in the forcible lines of Lucretius: + + "--Pereunt imbres, ubi eos pater aether + In gremium matris terrai praecipitavit; + At nitidae surgunt fruges, ramique virescunt, + Arboribus crescunt ipsae, fetuque gravautur, + Hinc alitar porro nostrum genus atque ferarum. + +* * * * * * + + Haud igitur penitus pereunt quaecumque videntur, + Quando aliud ex alio reflcit natura, nec ullam + Rem gigni patitur, nisi morte adjuta aliena." [Footnote 8] + + [Footnote 8: Lucret. lib. i. 250-65.] + +But the rediscovery of this law, as a result of experiment, is due to +English physicists of our own day; and it is so invariably true, and +the produced force is always so perfectly proportioned to the force +producing it, that some [Footnote 9] have gone so far as to revive a +very old hypothesis in philosophy, supposing that all the forces of +nature are but differently expressed forms of the Divine Will. + + [Footnote 9: Dr. Carpenter, Philos. Trans. 1840, vol. ii. ] + +As a corollary to this law, it follows that many a force of nature, +hitherto neglected because of its position or intractability, may be +turned to practical account by using it to produce some new power, +which may be either stored up or transmitted to a distance, and so can +be employed wherever and whenever it is required. Thus, in the first +machine we propose to notice, a M. Cazal has just hit upon a plan by +which to use the power of falling water at a considerable distance. He +employs a water-wheel to turn a magneto-electric machine (of the kind +used for medical purposes, on a very large scale), and the electric +force so obtained may be conveyed to any distance, and employed there +as a motive power. In this way a mountain stream in the Alps or +Pyrenees may turn a lathe, or set a loom in motion, in a workshop in +Paris or Lyons; or even (as has been remarked), if a wire were laid +across the Atlantic, the whole force of Niagara would be at our +disposal. + +The idea is at present quite in its infancy; but we are told that the +few experiments hitherto made show that such an engine is not only +very ingenious but perfectly feasible, and (most important of all) +economical. + +The second engine gave promise of considerable success when first +brought out in Paris about eight months ago. It was invented by a M. +Tellier, and proceeds on the principle of storing up force, to be used +when wanted. It has long been well known to chemists that a certain +number of gases (as chlorine, carbonic acid, ammonia, and sulphuretted +hydrogen) can be condensed into liquids by cold or pressure, or both +combined. Of all these gases, ammonia is the most easily liquefied, +requiring for this purpose, at ordinary temperatures, a pressure only +six and a half times greater than that of the atmosphere. A supply of +liquid ammonia obtained in this manner is kept by M. Tellier in a +closed vessel, and surrounded with a freezing mixture, so that it has +but little tendency to return to the gaseous state. A small quantity +is allowed to escape from this reservoir under the piston of the +engine, and, the temperature there being higher than in the reservoir, +the ammonia becomes at once converted into gas, increasing thereby to +more than twelve hundred times its previous bulk, and so driving the +piston with great force to the top of the cylinder. A little water is +now admitted, which entirely dissolves the ammonia, a vacuum being +thus created, and the piston driven down again by the pressure of the +air without. M. Tellier employs three such cylinders, which work in +succession; and the only apparent limit to the power to be obtained +from this machine is the amount of liquid ammonia which would have to +be used, about three gallons (or twenty-two pounds) being required for +each horse-power per hour. There is no waste of material; for the +water which has dissolved {31} the gas is saved, and the ammonia +recovered from it by evaporation, and afterwards condensed into a +liquid. M. Tellier proposed to use his engine for propelling omnibuses +and other vehicles; but it would appear that it is too expensive and +too cumbrous to be practically useful; there can, however, be very +little doubt that the principle will be used with success in some new +form. A patent has quite recently been taken out for such an engine in +England. It will be perceived at once how the ammonia engine +illustrates the law of storing up force. It originates no power of its +own, but simply gives out by degrees the mechanical force which had +been previously employed to change the ammonia from a gas to a liquid. + +Lenoir's "gas-engine" has been more successful; for, although but a +few months old, it has been already largely adopted in Parisian +hotels, schools, and other large establishments, for raising lifts, +making ices, and even--for what is not done now-a-days by +machinery?--cleaning boots. In London, it was lately exhibited in +Cranbourne Street, and is now used for turning lathes and for other +light work. + +This engine, like the ammonia-engine, is provided with an ordinary +cylinder, into which coal-gas and air are admitted, under the piston, +in the proportions of eleven parts of the latter to one of the former. +The mixture is then exploded by the electric spark, and the remaining +air, being greatly expanded, drives up the piston. When the top is +reached the gas and air are again admitted, but this time above the +piston, and the explosion is repeated, so that the piston is driven +down again. The most ingenious part of the whole thing is the +mechanism by which the electric spark is directed alternately to the +upper and lower ends of the cylinder. This cannot be satisfactorily +explained without a diagram, but is brought about (roughly speaking) +by connecting either end of the cylinder with a semicircle of brass, +which is touched by the "rotary crank" in the course of its +revolution. The crank is already charged with electricity, and so +communicates the electric spark to each of the semicircles in turn. +The cylinder is kept plunged in water, so that there is no fear of its +overheating by the constant explosions. + +This engine has cheapness for its main recommendation. A +half-horsepower gas-engine (the commonest power made) costs, when +complete, £65, and consumes twopence worth of gas per hour; while the +cost of keeping the battery active is about fourpence per week. + +An engineer of Lyons, M. Millon, has since proposed to use, instead of +coal-gas, the gases produced by passing steam over red-hot coke. These +gases are found to explode rather more quickly than coal-gas, when +mixed with common air, and fired by the electric spark. They will +probably be found cheaper and more efficient when they can be +obtained; but in many cases coal-gas will be the only material +available. + +A M. Jules Gros has recently invented an engine in which gun-cotton is +exploded in a strong reservoir and air compressed in another, the +compressed air being afterward employed to move the pistons of the +machine. This sounds more dangerous than it perhaps really is, since +gun-cotton is now known to be more tractable than gunpowder, when +properly used; but we very much doubt whether the machine can be +regular or economical enough to be more than a curiosity. + +To close the list of French inventions of this kind, we may state that +Count de Molin has lately patented an electro-magnetic machine, which, +he states, will be more powerful than any previously made. It is too +complicated for a mere verbal description to be of any use; but is +apparently not free from the fault of all electro-magnetic engines, of +costing too much to be of practical value. + +{32} + +[ORIGINAL] + +CHRISTINE. + +A TROUBADOUR'S SONG, + +IN FIVE CANTOS, + +BY GEORGE H. MILES. [Footnote 10] + + [Footnote 10: Copyright secured.] + +PRELUDE. + + The Queen hath built her a fairy Bower + In the shadow of the Accursed Tower, + For the Moslem hath left his blood-stained lair, + And the banner of England waveth there. + Thither she lureth the Lion King + To hear a wandering Trovère sing; + For well she knew the Joyous Art + Was surest path to Richard's heart. + But the Monarch's glance was on the sea-- + Sooth, he was scarce in minstrel mood, + For Philip's triremes homeward stood + With all the Gallic chivalry. + And as he watched the filmy sail + Upon the furthest billow fail, + He muttered, "Richard ill can spare + Thee and thy Templars, false and fair; + Yet God hath willed it--home to thee, + Death or Jerusalem for me!" + Then pressing with a knightly kiss + The peerless hand that slept in his, + "Ah, would our own Blondel were here + To try a measure I wove last e'en. + What songster hast thou caught, my Queen, + Whose harp may soothe a Monarch's ear?" + She beckoned, and the Trovère bowed + To many a Lord and Ladye fair + That gathered round the royal pair; + But most his simple song was vowed + To a sweet shape with dark brown hair, + Half hidden in the gentle crowd; + Pale as a spirit, sharply slender. + In maiden beauty's crescent splendor. + And never yet bent Minstrel knee + To Mistress lovelier than she. + +{33} + + + + + +THE FIRST SONG. + +I. + + Ye have heard of the Castle of Miolan + And how it hath stood since time began, + Midway to yon mountain's brow, + Guarding the beautiful valley below: + Its crest the clouds, its ancient feet + Where the Arc and the Isère murmuring meet + Earth hath few lovelier scenes to show + Than Miolan with its hundred halls, + Its massive towers and bannered walls, + Looming out through the vines and walnut woods + That gladden its stately solitudes. + And there might ye hear but yestermorn + The loud halloo and the hunter's horn, + The laugh of mailèd men at play. + The drinking bout and the roundelay. + But now all is sternest silence there. + Save the bell that calls to vesper prayer; + Save the ceaseless surge of a father's wail, + And, hark! ye may hear the Baron's Tale. + + +II. + + "Come hither. Hermit!--Yestermorn + I had an only son, + A gallant fair as e'er was born, + A knight whose spurs were won + In the red tide by Godfrey's side + At Ascalon. + +{34} + + "But yestermorn he came to me + For blessing on his lance, + And death and danger seemed to flee + The joyaunce of his glance, + For he would ride to win his Bride, + Christine of France. + + "All sparkling in the sun he stood + In mail of Milan dressed, + A scarf, the gift of her he wooed, + Lay lightly o'er his breast. + As, with a clang, to horse he sprang + With nodding crest + + "Gaily he grasped the stirrup cup + Afoam with spicy ale, + But as he took the goblet up + Methought his cheek grew pale. + And a shudder ran through the iron man + And through his mail. + + "Oft had I seen him breast the shock + Of squire or crownèd king, + His front was firm as rooted rock + When spears were shivering: + I knew no blow could shake him so + From living thing. + + "'Twas something near akin to death + That blanched and froze his cheek, + Yet 'twas not death, for he had breath, + And when I bade him speak, + Unto his breast his hand he pressed + With one wild shriek. + + "The hand thus clasped upon his heart + So sharply curbed the rein, + Grey Caliph, rearing with a start, + Went bounding o'er the plain + Away, away with echoing neigh + And streaming mane. + + "After him sped the menial throng; + I stirred not in my fear; + Perchance I swooned, for it seemed not long + Ere the race did reappear, + And my son still led on his desert-bred. + Grasping his spear. + +{35} + + "Unchanged in look or limb, he came. + He and his barb so fleet, + His hand still on his heart, the same + Stem bearing in his seat, + And wheeling round with sudden bound + Stopped at my feet. + + "And soon as ceased that wildering tramp + 'What ails thee, boy?' I cried-- + Taking his hand all chill and damp-- + 'What means this fearful ride? + Alight, alight, for lips so white + Would scare a Bride!' + + "But sternly to his steed clove he, + And answer made he none, + I clasped him by his barbèd knee + And there I made my moan; + While icily he stared at me, + At me alone. + + "A strange, unmeaning stare was that, + And a page beside me said, + 'If ever corse in saddle sat, + Our lord is certes sped!' + But I smote the lad, for it drove me mad + To think him dead. + + "What! dead so young, what! lost so soon, + My beautiful, my brave! + Sooner the sun should find at noon + In central heaven a grave! + Sweet Jesu, no, it is not so + When Thou canst save! + + "For was he dead and was he sped, + When he could ride so well, + So bravely bear his plumèd head? + Or, was't some spirit fell + In causeless wrath had crossed his path + With fiendish spell? + + "Oh. Hermit, 'twas a cruel sight. + And He, who loves to bless, + Ne'er sent on son such bitter blight. + On sire such sore distress, + Such piteous pass, and I, alas, + So powerless! + +{36} + + "They would have ta'en him from his horse + The while I wept and prayed, + They would have lain him like a corse + Upon a litter made + Of traversed spear and martial gear. + But I forbade. + + "I gazed into his face again, + I chafed his hand once more, + I summoned him to speak, in vain-- + He sat there as before, + While the gallant Grey in dumb dismay + His rider bore. + + "Full well, full well Grey Caliph then + The horror seemed to know. + E'en deeper than my mailèd men + Methought he felt our woe; + For the barbed head of the desert-bred + Was drooping low. + + "Amazed, aghast, he gazed at me, + That mourner true and good. + Then backward at my boy looted he. + As if a word he sued. + And like sculptured pile in abbey aisle + The train there stood. + + "I took the rein: the frozen one + Still fast in saddle sate. + As tremblingly I led him on + Toward the great castle gate. + O walls mine own, why have ye grown + So desolate?-- + + "I led them to the castle gate + And paused before the shrine + Where throned in state from earliest date, + Protectress of our line. + Madonna pressed close to her breast + The Babe Divine. + + "And kneeling lowly at her feet, + I begged the Mother mild + That she would sue her Jesu sweet + To aid my stricken child; + And the meek stone face flashed full of grace + As if she smiled. + +{37} + + "And methought the eyes of the Full of Grace + Upon my darling shone, + Till living seemed that marble face + And the living man seemed stone, + While a halo played round the Mother Maid + And round her Son. + + "And there was radiance everywhere + Surpassing light of day, + On man and horse, on shield and spear + Burned the bright, blinding ray; + But most it shone on my only one + And his gallant Grey. + + "A sudden clang of armor rang, + My boy lay on the sward. + Up high in air Grey Caliph sprang, + An instant fiercely pawed. + Then trembling stood aghast and viewed + His fallen lord. + + "Then with the flash of fire away + Like sunbeam o'er the plain, + Away, away with echoing neigh + And wildly waving mane. + Away he sped, loose from his head + The flying rein. + + "I watched the steed from pass to pass + Unto the welkin's rim, + I feared to turn my eyes, alas, + To trust a look at him; + And when I turned, my temples burned + And all grew dim. + + "Sweet if such swoon could endless be, + Yet speedily I woke + And missed my boy: they showed him me + Full length on bed of oak. + Clad as 'twas meet in mail complete + And sable cloak. + + "All of our race upon that bier + Had rested one by one, + I had seen my father lying there, + And now there lay my son! + Ah! my sick soul bled the while it said-- + 'Thy will be done!' + +{38} + + "Bright glanced the crest, bright gleamed the spur, + That well had played their part, + His lance still clasped, nor could they stir + His left hand from his heart; + There fast it clove, nor would it move + With all their art + + "I found no voice, I shed no tear. + They thought me well resigned. + All else who stood around the bier + With weeping much were blind; + And a mourning voice went through the house + Like a low wind. + + "And there was sob of aged man + And woman's wailing cry, + All cheeks were wan, all eyes o'erran, + Yon fair-haired maidens sigh. + And one apart with breaking heart + Weeps bitterly. + + "But sharper than spear-thrust, I trow, + Their wailing through me went; + Stem silence suited best my woe, + And, howe'er well the intent. + Their menial din seemed half akin + To merriment + + "For oh, such grief was mock to mine + Whose days were all undone. + The last of all this ancient line + To share whose grief was none! + Straight from the hall I barred them all + And stood alone. + + "'Receive me now, thou bed of oak!' + I fell upon the bier. + And, Hermit, when this morning broke + It found me clinging there. + O maddening morn! That day dare dawn + On such a pair! + + "I sent for thee, thou man of God, + To watch with me to-night; + My boy still liveth, by the rood, + Nor shall be funeral rite!-- + But, Hermit, come: this is the room: + There lies the Knight!" + +{39} + +III. + + But she apart + With breaking heart?-- + That very yestermorn she stood + In the deepest shade of the walnut wood, + As a Knight rode by on his raven steed, + Crying, "Daughter mine, hast thou done the deed? + I gave thee the venom, I gave thee the spell, + A jealous heart might use them well." + But she waved her white arms and only said, + "On oaken bier is Miolan laid!" + "Dead!" laughed the Knight. "Then round Pilate's Peak + Let the red light burn and the eagle shriek. + When Miolan? heir lies on the bier, + Low is the only lance I fear: + I ride, I ride to win my Bride, + Ho, Eblis, to thy servant's side. + Thou hast sworn no foe + Shall lay me low + Till the dead in arms against me ride!" + +------ + +THE SECOND SONG. + +I. + + They passed into an ancient hall + With oaken arches spanned. + Full many a shield hung on the wall, + Full many a broken brand. + And barbèd spear and scimetar + From Holy Land. + + And scarfs of dames of high degree + With gold and jewels rich, + And many a mouldered effigy + In many a mouldering niche, + Like grey sea shells whose crumbling cells + Bestrew the beach. + +{40} + + The sacred dead possessed the place, + The silent cobweb wreathed + The tombs where slept that warrior race, + With swords for ever sheathed: + You seemed to share the very air + Which they had breathed. + + Oh, darksome was that funeral room, + Those oaken arches dim, + The torchlight, struggling through the gloom, + Fell faint on effige grim, + On dragon dread and carvèd head + Of Cherubim. + + Of Cherubim fast by a shrine + Whereon the last sad rite + Was wont for all that ancient line, + For dame and belted knight-- + A shrine of Moan which death alone + Did ever light. + + But light not now that altar stone + While hope of life remain, + Though darksome be that altar lone, + Unlit that funeral fane, + Save by the rays cast by the blaze + Of torches twain. + + Of torches twain at head and heel + Of him who seemeth dead, + Who sleepeth so well in his coat of steel. + His cloak around him spread-- + The young Knight fair, who lieth there + On oaken bed. + + One hand still fastened to his heart. + The other on his lance, + While through his eyelids, half apart. + Life seemeth half to glance. + "Sweet youth awake, for Jesu's sake, + From this strange trance!" + + But heed or answer there is none. + Then knelt that Hermit old; + To Mother Mary and her Son + Full many a prayer he told, + Whose wondrous words the Church records + In lettered gold: + +{41} + + And many a precious litany + And many a pious vow, + Then rising said, "If fiend it be, + That fiend shall leave thee now!" + And traced the sign of the Cross divine + On lips and brow. + + As well expect yon cherub's wings + To wave at matin bell! + Not all the relics of the kings + Could break that iron spell. + "Pray for the dead, let mass be said, + Toll forth the knell!" + + "Not yet!" the Baron gasped and sank + As if beneath a blow, + With lips all writhing as they drank + The dregs of deepest woe; + With eyes aglare, and scattered hair + Tossed to and fro. + + So swings the leaf that lingers last + When wintry tempests sweep, + So reels when storms have stripped the mast + The galley on the deep, + So nods the snow on Eigher's brow + Before the leap. + + Uncertain 'mid his tangled hair + His palsied fingers stray, + He smileth in his dumb despair + Like a sick child at play. + Though wet, I trow, with tears eno' + That beard so grey. + + Oh, Hermit, lift him to your breast, + There best his heart may bleed; + Since none but heaven can give him rest, + Heaven's priest must meet his need: + Dry that white beard, now wet and weird + As pale sea-weed. + + Uprising slowly from the ground, + With short and frequent breath. + In aimless circles, round and round, + The Baron tottereth + With trailing feet, a mourner meet + For house of death. + +{42} + + Till, pausing by the shrine of Moan, + He said, the while he wept, + "Here, Hermit, here mine only one, + When all the castle slept, + As maiden knight, o'er armor bright, + His first watch kept. + + "This is the casque that first he wore, + And this his virgin shield. + This lance to his first tilt he bore, + With this first took the field-- + How light, how lâche to that huge ash + He now doth wield! + + "This blade hath levelled at a blow + The she-wolf in her den. + With this red falchion he laid low + The slippery Saracen. + God! will that hand, so near his brand, + Ne'er strike again? + + "Frown not on him, ye men of old. + Whose glorious race is run; + Frown not on him, my fathers bold. + Though many the field ye won: + His name and los may mate with yours + Though but begun! + + "Receive him, ye departed brave, + Unlock the gates of light. + And range yourselves about his grave + To hail a brother knight. + Who never erred in deed or word + Against the right! + + "But is he dead and is he sped + Withouten scathe or scar? + Why, Hermit, he hath often bled + From sword and scimetar-- + I've seen him ride, wounds gaping wide, + From war to war. + + "And hath a silent, viewless thing + Laid danger's darling low, + When youth and hope were on the wing + And life in morning glow? + Not yonder worm in winter's storm + Perisheth so! + +{43} + + "Oh, Hermit, thou hast heard, I ween, + Of trances long and deep, + But, Hermit, hast thou ever seen + That grim and stony sleep. + And canst thou tell how long a spell + Such slumbers keep? + + "Oh, be there naught to break the charm, + To thaw this icy chain; + Has Mother Church no word to warm + These freezing lips again; + Be holy prayer and balsams rare + Alike in vain? . . . . + + "A curse on thy ill-omened head; + Man, bid me not despair; + Churl, say not that a Knight is dead + When he can couch his spear; + When he can ride--Monk, thou hast lied. + He lives, I swear! + + "Up from that bier! Boy, to thy feet! + Know'st not thy father's voice? + Thou ne'er hast disobeyed . . . is't meet + A sire should summon thrice? + By these grey hairs, by these salt tears, + Awake, arise! + + "Ho, lover, to thy ladye flee, + Dig deep the crimson spur; + Sleep not 'twixt this lean monk and me + When thou shouldst kneel to her! + Oh 'tis a sin, Christine to win + And thou not stir! + + "Ho, laggard, hear yon trumpet's note + Go sounding to the skies, + The lists are set, the banners float. + Yon loud-mouthed herald cries, + 'Ride, gallant knights, Christine invites. + Herself the prize!' + + "Ho, craven, shun'st thou the melée, + When she expects thy brand + To prove to-day in fair tourney + A title to her hand? + Up, dullard base, or by the mass + I'll make thee stand!" . . . . + +{44} + + Thrice strove he then to wrench apart + Those fingers from the spear. + Thrice strove to sever from the heart + The hand that rested there. + Thrice strove in vain with frantic strain + That shook the bier. + + Thrice with the dead the living strove, + Their armor rang a peal, + The sleeping knight he would not move + Although the sire did reel: + That stately corse defied all force, + Stubborn as steel. + + "Ay, dead, dead, dead!" the Baron cried; + "Dear Hermit, I did rave. + O were we sleeping side by side! . . + Good monk, I penance crave + For all I said .... Ay, he is dead, + Pray heaven to save! + + "Betake thee to thy crucifix, + And let me while I may + Rain kisses on these frozen cheeks + Before they know decay. + Leave me to weep and watch and keep + The worm at bay. + + "Thou wilt not spare thy prayers, I trust; + But name not now the grave-- + I'll watch him to the very dust! .... + So, Hermit, to thy cave. + Whilst here I cling lest creeping thing + Insult the brave!" + +------ + + Why starts the Hermit to his feet, + why springs he to the bier, + Why calleth he on Jesu sweet, + Staying the starting tear. + What whispereth he half trustfully + And half in fear? + +{45} + + "Sir Knight, thy ring hath razed his flesh-- + 'Twas in thy frenzy done; + Lo, from his wrist how fast and fresh + The blood-drops trickling run; + Heaven yet may wake, for Mary's sake, + Thy warrior son. + + "Heap ashes on thy head, Sir Knight, + In sackcloth gird thee well, + The shrine of Moan must blaze in light, + The morning mass must swell; + Arouse from sleep the castle keep, + Sound every bell!" + + They come, pale maid and mailèd man + They throng into the hall, + The watcher from the barbican, + The warder from the wall. + And she apart, with breaking heart, + The last of all. + + "__Introibo! _Introibo!_" + The morning mass begins; + "_Mea culpa! mea culpa!_" + Forgive us all our sins; + And the rapt Hermit chaunts with streaming eyes, + That seem to enter Paradise, + "_Gloria! Gloria!_" + The shrine of Moan had never known + That gladdest of all hymns. + +------ + +II. + + + The fair-haired maiden standeth apart + In the chapel gloom, with breaking heart. + But a smile broke over her face as she said, + "The draught was well measured, I ween; + He liveth, thank Allah, but not to wed + His beautiful Christine. + No lance hath Miolan couched to-day: + Let the bride for the bridegroom watch, and pray. + Till the lists shall hear the shriek + Of the Dauphin's daughter borne away + By the Knight of Pilate's Peak." + + +TO BE CONTINUED. + +{46} + +A LETTER TO THE REV. E. B. PUSEY, D.D., +ON HIS RECENT EIRENICON. + +BY JOHN HENRY NEWMAN, D.D., +OF THE ORATORY. + + +Veni, Domine, et noli tardare, +relaxa facinora plebi tuae; +et rovoca dispersos in terram suam. + + + +No one who desires the union of +Christendom, after its many and +long-standing divisions, can have any other +feeling than joy, my dear Pusey, at +finding from your recent volume that +you see your way to make definite +proposals to us for effecting that +great object, and are able to lay down +the basis and conditions on which you +could co-operate in advancing it. It +is not necessary that we should concur +in the details of your scheme, or +in the principles which it involves, in +order to welcome the important fact +that, with your personal knowledge of the Anglican body, and your +experience of its composition and tendencies, you consider the time to +be come when you and your friends may, without imprudence, turn your +minds to the contemplation of such an enterprise. Even were you an +individual member of that church, a watchman upon a high tower in a +metropolis of religious opinion, we should naturally listen with +interest to what you had to report of the state of the sky and the +progress of the night, what stars were mounting up or what clouds +gathering; what were the prospects of the three great parties which +Anglicanism contains within it, and what was just now the action upon +them respectively of the politics and science of the time. You do not +go into these matters; but the step you have taken is evidently the +measure and the issue of the view which you have formed of them all. + +However, you are not a mere individual; from early youth you have +devoted yourself to the Established Church, and after between forty +and fifty years of unremitting labor in its service, your roots and +your branches stretch out through every portion of its large +territory. You, more than any one else alive, have been the present +and untiring agent by whom a great work has been effected in it; and, +far more than is usual, you have received in your lifetime, as well as +merited, the confidence of your brethren. You cannot speak merely for +yourself; your antecedents, your existing influence, are a pledge to +us that what you may determine will be the determination of a +multitude. Numbers, too, for whom you cannot properly be said to +speak, will be moved by your authority or your arguments; and numbers, +again, who are of a school more recent than your own, and who are only +not your followers because they have outstripped you in their free +speeches and demonstrative acts in our behalf, will, for the occasion, +accept you as their spokesman. There is no one anywhere--among +ourselves, in your own body, or, I suppose, in the Greek Church--who +can affect so vast a circle of men, so virtuous, so able, so learned, +so zealous, as come, more or less, under your influence; and I cannot +pay them all a greater compliment, than to tell them they ought all to +be Catholics, nor do them a more affectionate service than to pray +that they may one day become such. Nor can I address myself to an act +more pleasing, as I trust, to the Divine Lord of the church, and more +loyal and dutiful to his Vicar on earth, than to attempt, however, +feebly, to promote so great a consummation. + +{47} + +I know the joy it would give those conscientious men of whom I am +speaking to be one with ourselves. I know how their hearts spring up +with a spontaneous transport at the very thought of union; and what +yearning is theirs after that great privilege, which they have not, +communion with the See of Peter and its present, past, and future. I +conjecture it by what I used to feel myself, while yet in the Anglican +Church. I recollect well what an outcast I seemed to myself when I +took down from the shelves of my library the volumes of St. Athanasius +or St. Basil, and set myself to study them; and how, on the contrary, +when at length I was brought into Catholicism, I kissed them with +delight, with a feeling that in them I had more than all that I had +lost, and, as though I were directly addressing the glorious saints +who bequeathed them to the Church, I said to the inanimate pages, "You +are now mine, and I am now yours, beyond any mistake." Such, I +conceive, would be the joy of the persons I speak of, if they could +wake up one morning and find themselves possessed by right of Catholic +traditions and hopes, without violence to their own sense of duty; +and, certainly, I am the last man to say that such violence is in any +case lawful, that the claims of conscience are not paramount, or that +any one may overleap what he deliberately holds to be God's command, +in order to make his path easier for him or his heart lighter. + +I am the last man to quarrel with this jealous deference to the voice +of our conscience, whatever judgment others may form of us in +consequence, for this reason--because their case, as it at present +stands, has, as you know, been my own. You recollect well what hard +things were said against us twenty-five years ago, which we knew in +our hearts we did not deserve. Hence, I am now in the position of the +fugitive queen in the well-known passage, who, "haud ignara mali" +herself, had learned to sympathize with those who were inheritors of +her past wanderings. There were priests, good men, whose zeal +outstripped their knowledge, and who in consequence spoke confidently, +when they would have been wiser had they suspended their adverse +judgment of those whom they had soon to welcome as brethren in +communion. We at that time were in worse plight than your friends are +now, for our opponents put their very hardest thoughts of us into +print. One of them wrote thus in a letter addressed to one of the +Catholic bishops: + + "That this Oxford crisis is a real progress to Catholicism, I have + all along considered a perfect delusion. ... I look upon Mr. Newman, + Dr. Pusey, and their associates as wily and crafty, though + unskilful, guides. . . . The embrace of Mr. Newman is the kiss that + would betray us. . . . But--what is the most striking feature in the + rancorous malignity of these men--their calumnies are often lavished + upon us, when we should be led to think that the subject-matter of + their treatises closed every avenue against their vituperation. The + three last volumes [of the Tracts] have opened my eyes to the + craftiness and the cunning, as well as the malice, of the members of + the Oxford convention. . . . If the Puseyites are to be the new + apostles of Great Britain, my hopes for my country are lowering and + gloomy. . . . I would never have consented to enter the lists + against this strange confraternity ... if I did not feel that my own + prelate was opposed to the guile and treachery of these men. . . . . + I impeach Dr. Pusey and his friends of a deadly hatred of our + religion. . . . . What, my lord, would the Holy See think of the + works of these Puseyites? . . ." + +Another priest, himself a convert, wrote: + + "As we approach toward Catholicity our love and respect increases, + and our violence dies away; but the bulk of these men become more + rabid as they become like Rome, a plain proof of their designs. ... + I do not believe that they are any nearer the portals of the + Catholic Church than the most prejudiced Methodist and Evangelical + preacher. . . . Such, rev. sir, is an outline of my views on the + Oxford movement." + +{48} + +I do not say that such a view of us was unnatural; and, for myself, I +readily confess that I had used about the church such language that I +had no claim on Catholics for any mercy. But, after all, and in fact, +they were wrong in their anticipations--nor did their brethren agree +with them at the time. Especially Dr. Wiseman (as he was then) took a +larger and more generous view of us; nor did the Holy See interfere, +though the writer of one of these passages invoked its judgment. The +event showed that the more cautious line of conduct was the more +prudent; and one of the bishops, who had taken part against us, with a +supererogation of charity, sent me on his death-bed an expression of +his sorrow for having in past years mistrusted me. A faulty +conscience, faithfully obeyed, through God's mercy, had in the long +run brought me right. + +Fully, then, do I recognize the rights of conscience in this matter. I +find no fault in your stating, as clearly and completely as you can, +the difficulties which stand in the way of your joining us. I cannot +wonder that you begin with stipulating conditions of union, though I +do not concur in them myself, and think that in the event you yourself +would be content to let them drop. Such representations as yours are +necessary to open the subject in debate; they ascertain how the land +lies, and serve to clear the ground. Thus I begin; but, after allowing +as much as this, I am obliged in honesty to say what I fear, my dear +Pusey, will pain you. Yet I am confident, my very dear friend, that at +least you will not be angry with me if I say, what I must say, or say +nothing at all, that there is much both in the matter and in the +manner of your volume calculated to wound those who love you well, but +love truth more. So it is; with the best motives and kindest +intentions, "Caedimur, et totidem plagis consumimus hostem." We give +you a sharp cut, and you return it. You complain of our being "dry, +hard, and unsympathizing;" and we answer that you are unfair and +irritating. But we at least have not professed to be composing an +Irenicon, when we treated you as foes. There was one of old time who +wreathed his sword in myrtle; excuse me--you discharge your +olive-branch as if from a catapult. + +Do not think I am not serious; if I spoke seriously, I should seem to +speak harshly. Who will venture to assert that the hundred pages which +you have devoted to the Blessed Virgin give other than a one-sided +view of our teaching about her, little suited to win us? It may be a +salutary castigation, if any of us have fairly provoked it, but it is +not making the best of matters; it is not smoothing the way for an +understanding or a compromise. It leads a writer in the most moderate +and liberal Anglican newspaper of the day, the "Guardian," to turn +away from your representation of us with horror. "It is language," +says your reviewer, "which, after having often heard it, we still can +only hear with horror. We had rather not quote any of it, or of the +comments upon it." What could an Exeter Hall orator, what could a +Scotch commentator on the Apocalypse, do more for his own side of the +controversy by the picture he drew of us? You may be sure that what +creates horror on one side will be answered by indignation on the +other, and these are not the most favorable dispositions for a peace +conference. I had been accustomed to think that you, who in times past +were ever less declamatory in controversy than myself, now that years +had gone on, and circumstances changed, had come to look on our old +warfare against Rome as cruel and inexpedient. Indeed, I know that it +was a chief objection urged against me only last year by persons who +agreed with you in deprecating an oratory at Oxford, which at that +time was in prospect, that such an undertaking would be the signal for +the rekindling of that fierce style of polemics which is now out of +date. I had fancied you shared in that opinion; but now, as if {49} to +show how imperative you deem its renewal, you actually bring to life +one of my own strong sayings in 1841, which had long been in the +grave--that "the Roman Church comes as near to idolatry as can be +supposed in a church, of which it said, 'The idols he shall utterly +abolish,'" p. 111. + +I know, indeed, and feel deeply, that your frequent references in your +volume to what I have lately or formerly written are caused by your +strong desire to be still one with me as far as you can, and by that +true affection which takes pleasure in dwelling on such sayings of +mine as you can still accept with the full approbation of your +judgment. I trust I am not ungrateful or irresponsive to you in this +respect; but other considerations have an imperative claim to be taken +into account. Pleasant as it is to agree with you, I am bound to +explain myself in cases in which I have changed my mind, or have given +a wrong impression of my meaning, or have been wrongly reported; and, +while I trust that I have better than such personal motives for +addressing you in print, yet it will serve to introduce my main +subject, and give me an opportunity for remarks which bear upon it +indirectly, if I dwell for a page or two on such matters contained in +your volume as concern myself. + +1. The mistake which I have principally in view is the belief, which +is widely spread, that I have publicly spoken of the Anglican Church +as "the great bulwark against infidelity in this land." In a pamphlet +of yours, a year old, you spoke of "a very earnest body of Roman +Catholics" who "rejoice in all the workings of God the Holy Ghost in +the Church of England (whatever they think of her), and are saddened +by what weakens her who is, in God's hands, the great bulwark against +infidelity in this land." The concluding words you were thought to +quote from my "Apologia." In consequence, Dr. Manning, now our +archbishop, replied to you, asserting, as you say, "the contradictory +of that statement." In that counter-assertion he was at the time +generally considered (rightly or wrongly, as it may be), though +writing to you, to be really correcting statements in my "Apologia," +without introducing my name. Further, in the volume which you have now +published, you recur to the saying, and you speak of its author in +terms which, did I not know your partial kindness for me, would hinder +me from identifying him with myself. You say, "The saying was not +mine, but that of one of the deepest thinkers and observers in the +Roman communion," p. 7. A friend has suggested to me that, perhaps, +you mean De Maistre; and, from an anonymous letter which I have +received from Dublin, I find it is certain that the very words in +question were once used by Archbishop Murray; but you speak of the +author of them as if now alive. At length a reviewer of your volume, +in the "Weekly Register," distinctly attributes them to me by name, +and gives me the first opportunity I have had of disowning them; and +this I now do. What, at some time or other, I may have said in +conversation or private letter, of course, I cannot tell; but I have +never, I am sure, used the word "bulwark" of the Anglican Church +deliberately. What I said in my "Apologia" was this: That that church +was "a serviceable breakwater against errors more fundamental than its +own." A bulwark is an integral part of the thing it defends; whereas +the words "serviceable" and "breakwater" imply a kind of protection +which is accidental and _de facto_. Again, in saying that the Anglican +Church is a defence against "errors more fundamental than its own," I +imply that it has errors, and those fundamental. + +2. There is another passage in your volume, at p. 337, which it may be +right to observe upon. You have made a collection of passages from the +fathers, as witnesses in behalf of your doctrine that the whole +Christian faith is contained in Scripture, as if, in your sense of the +words. Catholics contradicted you here. {50} And you refer to my notes +on St. Athanasius as contributing passages to your list; but, after +all, neither do you, nor do I in my notes, affirm any doctrine which +Rome denies. Those notes also make frequent reference to a traditional +teaching, which (be the faith ever so certainly contained in +Scripture) still is necessary as a Regula Fidei, for showing us that +it is contained there--_vid_. pp. 283, 344--and this tradition, I +know, you uphold as fully as I do in the notes in question. In +consequence, you allow that there is a twofold rule. Scripture and +tradition; and this is all that Catholics say. How, then, do Anglicans +differ from Rome here? I believe the difference is merely one of +words; and I shall be doing, so far, the work of an Irenicon, if I +make clear what this verbal difference is. Catholics and Anglicans (I +do not say Protestants) attach different meanings to the word "proof," +in the controversy whether the whole faith is, or is not, contained in +Scripture. We mean that not every article of faith is so contained +there, that it may thence be logically proved, _independently_ of the +teaching and authority of the tradition; but Anglicans mean that every +article of faith is so contained there, that it may thence be proved, +_provided_ there be added the illustrations and compensations of the +tradition. And it is in this latter sense, I conceive, the fathers +also speak in the passages which you quote from them. I am sure at +least that St. Athanasius frequently adduces passages as proofs of +points in controversy which no one would see to be proofs unless +apostolical tradition were taken into account, first as suggesting, +then as authoritatively ruling, their meaning. Thus, _you_ do not deny +that the whole is not in Scripture in such sense that pure unaided +logic can draw it from the sacred text; nor do _we_ deny that the +faith is in Scripture, in an improper sense, in the sense that +_tradition_ is able to recognize and determine it there. You do not +profess to dispense with tradition; nor do we forbid the idea of +probable, secondary, symbolical, connotative senses of Scripture, over +and above those which properly belong to the wording and context. I +hope you will agree with me in this. + +3. Nor is it only in isolated passages that you give me a place in +your volume. A considerable portion of it is written with reference to +two publications of mine, one of which you name and defend, the other +you tacitly protest against: "Tract 90," and the "Essay on Doctrinal +Development," As to "Tract 90," you have from the first, as all the +world knows, boldly stood up for it, in spite of the obloquy which it +brought upon you, and have done me a great service. You are now +republishing it with my cordial concurrence; but I take this +opportunity of noticing, lest there should be any mistake on the part +of the public, that you do so with a different object from that which +I had when I wrote it. Its original purpose was simply that of +justifying myself and others in subscribing to the Thirty-nine +Articles while professing many tenets which had popularly been +considered distinctive of the Roman faith. I considered that my +interpretation of the Articles, as I gave it in that Tract, would +stand, provided the parties imposing them allowed it, otherwise I +thought it could not stand; and, when in the event the bishops and +public opinion did not allow it, I gave up my living, as having no +right to retain it. My feeling about the interpretation is expressed +in a passage in "Loss and Gain," which runs thus: + + "'Is it,' asked Reding, 'a received view?' 'No view is received,' + said the other; 'the Articles themselves are received, but there is + no authoritative interpretation of them at all.' 'Well,' said + Reding, 'is it a tolerated view?' 'It certainly has been strongly + opposed,' answered Bateman; 'but it has never been condemned.' 'That + is no answer,' said Charles. 'Does any one bishop hold it? Did any + one bishop ever hold it? Has it ever been formally admitted as + tenable by any one bishop? Is it a view got up to meet existing + difficulties, or has it an historical existence?' Bateman could give + only one answer to {51} these questions, as they were successively + put to him. 'I thought so,' said Charles; 'the view is specious + certainly. I don't we why it might not have done, had it been + tolerably sanctioned; but you have no sanction to show me. As it + stands, it is a mere theory struck out by individuals. Our church + _might_ have adopted this mode of interpreting the Articles; but, + from what you tell me, it certainly has not done so.'"--Ch. 15. + +However, the Tract did not carry its object and conditions on its +face, and necessarily lay open to interpretations very far from the +true one. Dr. Wiseman (as he then was), in particular, with the keen +apprehension which was his characteristic, at once saw in it a basis +of accommodation between Anglicanism and Rome. He suggested broadly +that the decrees of the Council of Trent should be made the rule of +interpretation for the Thirty-nine Articles, a proceeding of which +Sancta Clara, I think, had set the example; and, as you have observed, +published a letter to Lord Shrewsbury on the subject, of which the +following are extracts: + + "We Catholics must necessarily deplore [England's] separation as a + deep moral evil--as state of schism of which nothing can justify the + continuance. Many members of the Anglican Church view it in the same + light as to the first point--its sad evil; though they excuse their + individual position in it as an unavoidable misfortune. . . . We may + depend upon a willing, an able, and a most zealous co-operation with + any effort which we may make toward bringing her into her rightful + position, in Catholic unity with the Holy See and the churches of + its obedience--in other words, with the church Catholic. Is this a + visionary idea? Is it merely the expression of strong desire? I know + that many will so judge it; and, perhaps, were I to consult my own + quiet, I would not venture to express it. But I will, in simplicity + of heart, cling to hopefulness, cheered, as I feel it, by so many + promising appearances. . . . + + "A natural question here presents itself--what facilities appear in + the present state of things for bringing about so happy a + consummation as the reunion of England to the Catholic Church, + beyond what have before existed, and particularly under Archbishops + Laud or Wake? It strikes me, many. First, etc. . . . A still more + promising circumstance I think your lordship will with me consider + the _plan_ which the eventful 'Tract No. 90' has pursued, and in + which Mr. Ward, Mr. Oakeley, and even Dr. Pusey have agreed. I + allude to the method of _bringing their doctrines into accordance + with ours by explanation._ A foreign priest has pointed out to us a + valuable document for our consideration--'Bossuet's Reply to the + Pope,' when consulted on the best method of reconciling the + followers of the Augsburg Confession with the Holy See. The learned + bishop observes, that Providence had allowed so much Catholic truth + to be preserved in that Confession that full advantage should be + taken of the circumstance; that no retractations should be demanded, + but an explanation of the Confession in accordance with Catholic + doctrines. Now, for such a method as this, the way is in part + prepared by the demonstration that such interpretation may be given + of the most difficult Articles as will strip them of all + contradiction to the decrees of the Tridentine Synod. The same + method may be pursued on other points; and much pain may thus be + spared to individuals, and much difficulty to the church."--Pp. 11, + 35, 38. + +This use of my Tract, so different from my own, but sanctioned by the +great name of our cardinal, you are now reviving; and I gather from +your doing so, that your bishops and the opinion of the public are +likely now, or in prospect, to admit what twenty-five years ago they +refused. On this point, much as it rejoices me to know your +anticipation, of course I cannot have an opinion. + +4. So much for "Tract 90." On the other hand, as to my "Essay on +Doctrinal Development," I am sorry to find you do not look upon it +with friendly eyes; though how, without its aid, you can maintain the +doctrines of the Holy Trinity and incarnation, and others which you +hold, I cannot understand. You consider my principle may be the means, +in time to come, of introducing into our Creed, as portions of the +necessary Catholic faith, the infallibility of the Pope, and various +opinions, pious or profane, as it may be, about our Blessed Lady. I +hope to remove your anxiety as to these consequences, before I bring +my {52} observations to an end; at present I notice it as my apology +for interfering in a controversy which at first sight is no business +of mine. + +5. I have another reason for writing; and that is, unless it is rude +in me to say so, because you seem to think writing does not become me. +I do not like silently to acquiesce in such a judgment You say at p. +98: + + "Nothing can be more unpractical than for an individual to throw + himself into the Roman Church because he could accept the _letter_ + of the Council of Trent. Those who were born Roman Catholics have a + liberty which, in the nature of things, a person could not have who + left another system to embrace that of Rome. I cannot imagine how + any faith could stand the shock of leaving one system, criticising + _it_, and cast himself into another system, criticising _it_. For + myself, I have always felt that had (which God of his mercy avert + hereafter also) the English Church, by accepting heresy, driven me + out of it, I could have gone in no other way than that of closing my + eyes, and accepting whatever was put before me. But a liberty which + individuals could not use, and explanations which, so long as they + remain individual, must be unauthoritative, might be formally made + by the Church of Rome to the Church of England as the basis of + reunion." + +And again, p. 210: + + "It seems to me to be a psychological impossibility for one who has + already exchanged one system for another to make those distinctions. + One who, by his own act, places himself under authority, cannot make + conditions about his submission. But definite explanations of our + Articles have, before now, been at least tentatively offered to us, + on the Roman and Greek side, as sufficient to restore communion; and + the Roman explanations too were, in most cases, mere supplements to + our Articles, on points upon which our Church had not spoken." + +Now passages such as these seem almost a challenge to me to speak, and +to keep silence would be to assent to the justice of them. At the +cost, then, of speaking about myself, of which I feel there has been +too much of late, I observe upon them as follows: Of course, as you +say, a convert comes to learn, and not to pick and choose. He comes in +simplicity and confidence, and it does not occur to him to weigh and +measure every proceeding, every practice which he meets with among +those whom he has joined. He comes to Catholicism as to a living +system, with a living teaching, and not to a mere collection of +decrees and canons, which by themselves are of course but the +framework, not the body and substance, of the church. And this is a +truth which concerns, which binds, those also who never knew any other +religion, not only the convert. By the Catholic system I mean that +rule of life and those practices of devotion for which we shall look +in vain in the Creed of Pope Pius. The convert comes, not only to +believe the church, but also to trust and obey her priests, and to +conform himself in charity to her people. It would never do for him to +resolve that he never would say a Hail Mary, never avail himself of an +indulgence, never kiss a crucifix, never accept the Lent +dispensations, never mention a venial sin in confession. All this +would not only be unreal, but dangerous, too, as arguing a wrong state +of mind, which could not look to receive the divine blessing. +Moreover, he comes to the ceremonial, and the moral theology, and the +ecclesiastical regulations which he finds on the spot where his lot is +cast. And again, as regards matters of politics, of education, of +general expedience, of taste, he does not criticise or controvert. And +thus surrendering himself to the influences of his new religion, and +not losing what is revealed truth by attempting by his own private +rule to discriminate every moment its substance from its accidents, he +is gradually so indoctrinated in Catholicism as at length to have a +right to speak as well as to hear. Also, in course of time, a new +generation rises round him; and there is no reason why he should not +know as much, and decide questions with as true an instinct, as those +who perhaps number fewer years than he does Easter communions. {53} He +has mastered the fact and the nature of the differences of theologian +from theologian, school from school, nation from nation, era from era. +He knows that there is much of what may be called fashion in opinions +and practices, according to the circumstances of time and place, +according to current politics, the character of the Pope of the day, +or the chief prelates of a particular country, and that fashions +change. His experience tells him, that sometimes what is denounced in +one place as a great offence, or preached up as a first principle, has +in another nation been immemorially regarded in just a contrary sense, +or has made no sensation at all, one way or the other, when brought +before public opinion; and that loud talkers, in the church as +elsewhere, are apt to carry all before them, while quiet and +conscientious persons commonly have to give way. He perceives that, in +matters which happen to be in debate, ecclesiastical authority watches +the state of opinion and the direction and course of controversy, and +decides accordingly; so that in certain cases to keep back his own +judgment on a point is to be disloyal to his superiors. + +So far generally; now in particular as to myself. After twenty years +of Catholic life, I feel no delicacy in giving my opinion on any point +when there is a call for me, and the only reason why I have not done +so sooner, or more often than I have, is that there has been no call. +I have now reluctantly come to the conclusion that your volume _is_ a +call. Certainly, in many instances in which theologian differs from +theologian, and country from country, I have a definite judgment of my +own; I can say so without offence to any one, for the very reason that +from the nature of the case it is impossible to agree with all of +them. I prefer English habits of belief and devotion to foreign, from +the same causes, and by the same right, which justify foreigners in +preferring their own. In following those of my people, I show less +singularity and create less disturbance than if I made a flourish with +what is novel and exotic. And in this line of conduct I am but +availing myself of the teaching which I fell in with on becoming a +Catholic; and it is a pleasure to me to think that what I hold now, +and would transmit after me if I could, is only what I received then. +The utmost delicacy was observed on all hands in giving me advice; +only one warning remains on my mind, and it came from Dr. Griffiths, +the late vicar-apostolic of the London district. He warned me against +books of devotion of the Italian school, which were just at that time +coming into England; and when I asked him what books he recommended as +safe guides, he bade me get the works of Bishop Hay. By this I did not +understand that he was jealous of all Italian books, or made himself +responsible for all that Dr. Hay happens to have said; but I took him +to caution me against a character and tone of religion, excellent in +its place, not suited for England. When I went to Rome, though it may +seem strange to you to say it, even there I learned nothing +inconsistent with this judgment. Local influences do not supply an +atmosphere for its institutions and colleges, which are Catholic in +teaching as well as in name. I recollect one saying among others of my +confessor, a Jesuit father, one of the holiest, most prudent men I +ever knew. He said that we could not love the Blessed Virgin too much, +if we loved our Lord a great deal more. When I returned to England, +the first expression of theological opinion which came in my way was +_apropos_ of the series of translated saints' lives which the late Dr. +Faber originated. That expression proceeded from a wise prelate, who +was properly anxious as to the line which might be taken by the Oxford +converts, then for the first time coming into work. According as I +recollect his opinion, he was apprehensive of the effect of Italian +{54} compositions, as unsuited to this country, and suggested that the +lives should be original works, drawn up by ourselves and our friends +from Italian sources. If at that time I was betrayed into any acts +which were of a more extreme character than I should approve now, the +responsibility of course is mine; but the impulse came not from old +Catholics or superiors, but from men whom I loved and trusted who were +younger than myself. But to whatever extent I might be carried away, +and I cannot recollect any tangible instances, my mind in no long time +fell back to what seems to me a safer and more practical course. + +Though I am a convert, then, I think I have a right to speak out; and +that the more because other converts have spoken for a long time, +while I have not spoken; and with still more reason may I speak +without offence in the case of your present criticisms of us, +considering that, in the charges you bring, the only two English +writers you quote in evidence are both of them converts, younger in +age than myself. I put aside the archbishop, of course, because of his +office. These two authors are worthy of all consideration, at once +from their character and from their ability. In their respective lines +they are perhaps without equals at this particular time; and they +deserve the influence they possess. One is still in the vigor of his +powers; the other has departed amid the tears of hundreds. It is +pleasant to praise them for their real qualifications; but why do you +rest on them as authorities? Because the one was "a popular writer;" +but is there not sufficient reason for this in the fact of his +remarkable gifts, of his poetical fancy, his engaging frankness, his +playful wit, his affectionateness, his sensitive piety, without +supposing that the wide diffusion of his works arises out of his +particular sentiments about the Blessed Virgin? And as to our other +friend, do not his energy, acuteness, and theological reading, +displayed on the vantage ground of the historic "Dublin Review," fully +account for the sensation he has produced, without supposing that any +great number of our body go his lengths in their view of the Pope's +infallibility? Our silence as regards their writings is very +intelligible: it is not agreeable to protest, in the sight of the +world, against the writings of men in our own communion whom we love +and respect. But the plain fact is this--they came to the Church, and +have thereby saved their souls; but they are in no sense spokesmen for +English Catholics, and they must not stand in the place of those who +have a real title to such an office. The chief authors of the passing +generation, some of them still alive, others gone to their reward, are +Cardinal Wiseman, Dr. Ullathorne, Dr. Lingard, Mr. Tierney, Dr. +Oliver, Dr. Rock, Dr. Waterworth, Dr. Husenbeth, and Mr. Flanagan; +which of these ecclesiastics has said anything extreme about the +prerogatives of the Blessed Virgin or the infallibility of the Pope? + +I cannot, then, without remonstrance, allow you to identify the +doctrine of our Oxford friends in question, on the two subjects I have +mentioned, with the present spirit or the prospective creed of +Catholics; or to assume, as you do, that, because they are +thorough-going and relentless in their statements, therefore they are +the harbingers of a new age, when to show a deference for antiquity +will be thought little else than a mistake. For myself, hopeless as +you consider it, I am not ashamed still to take my stand upon the +fathers, and do not mean to budge. The history of their times is not +yet an old almanac to me. Of course I maintain the value and authority +of the "Schola," as one of the _loci theologici;_ still I sympathize +with Petavius in preferring to its "contentious and subtle theology" +that {55} "more elegant and fruitful teaching which is moulded after +the image of erudite antiquity." The fathers made me a Catholic, and I +am not going to kick down the ladder by which I ascended into the +church. It is a ladder quite as serviceable for that purpose now as it +was twenty years ago. Though I hold, as you remark, a process of +development in apostolic truth as time goes on, such development does +not supersede the fathers, but explains and completes them. And, in +particular, as regards our teaching concerning the Blessed Virgin, +with the fathers I am content; and to the subject of that teaching I +mean to address myself at once. I do so because you say, as I myself +have said in former years, that "that vast system as to the Blessed +Virgin . . . . to all of us has been the special _crux_ of the Roman +system," p. 101. Here, I say, as on other points, the fathers are +enough for me. I do not wish to say more than they, and will not say +less. You, I know, will profess the same; and thus we can join issue +on a clear and broad principle, and may hope to come to some +intelligible result. We are to have a treatise on the subject of our +Lady soon from the pen of the most reverend prelate; but that cannot +interfere with such a mere argument from the fathers as that to which +I shall confine myself here. Nor indeed, as regards that argument +itself, do I profess to be offering you any new matter, any facts +which have not been used by others--by great divines, as Petavius, by +living writers, nay, by myself on other occasions; I write afresh +nevertheless, and that for three reasons: first, because I wish to +contribute to the accurate statement and the full exposition of the +argument in question; next, because I may gain a more patient hearing +than has sometimes been granted to better men than myself; lastly, +because there just now seems a call on me, under my circumstances, to +avow plainly what I do and what I do not hold about the Blessed +Virgin, that others may know, did they come to stand where I stand, +what they would and what they would not be bound to hold concerning +her. + + +I begin by making a distinction which will go far to remove good part +of the difficulty of my undertaking, as it presents itself to ordinary +inquirers--the distinction between faith and devotion. I fully grant +that _devotion_ toward the Blessed Virgin has increased among +Catholics with the progress of centuries; I do not allow that the +_doctrine_ concerning her has undergone a growth, for I believe that +it has been in substance one and the same from the beginning. + +By "faith" I mean the Creed and the acceptance of the Creed; by +"devotion" I mean such religious honors as belong to the objecis of +our faith, and the payment of those honors. Faith and devotion are as +distinct in fact as they are in idea. We cannot, indeed, be devout +without faith, but we may believe without feeling devotion. Of this +phenomenon every one has experience both in himself and in others; and +we express it as often as we speak of realizing a truth or not +realizing it. It may be illustrated, with more or less exactness, by +matters which come before us in the world. For instance, a great +author, or public man, may be acknowledged as such for a course of +years; yet there may be an increase, an ebb and flow, and a fashion, +in his popularity. And if he takes a lasting place in the minds of his +countrymen, he may gradually grow into it, or suddenly be raised to +it. The idea of Shakespeare as a great poet has existed from a very +early date in public opinion; and there were at least individuals then +who understood him as well, and honored him as much, as the English +people can honor him now; yet, I think, there is a national devotion +to him in this day such as never has been before. This has happened +because, as education spreads in the country, there are more men able +to enter into his {56} poetical genius, and, among these, more +capacity again for deeply and critically understanding him; and yet, +from the first, he has exerted a great insensible influence over the +nation, as is seen in the circumstance that his phrases and sentences, +more than can be numbered, have become almost proverbs among us. And +so again in philosophy, and in the arts and sciences, great truths and +principles have sometimes been known and acknowledged for a course of +years; but, whether from feebleness of intellectual power in the +recipients, or external circumstances of an accidental kind, they have +not been turned to account. Thus, the Chinese are said to have known +of the properties of the magnet from time immemorial, and to have used +it for land expeditions, yet not on the sea. Again, the ancients knew +of the principle that water finds its own level, but seem to have made +little application of their knowledge. And Aristotle was familiar with +the principle of induction; yet it was left for Bacon to develop it +into an experimental philosophy. Illustrations such as these, though +not altogether apposite, serve to convey that distinction between +faith and devotion on which I am insisting. It is like the distinction +between objective and subjective truth. The sun in the springtime will +have to shine many days before he is able to melt the frost, open the +soil, and bring out the leaves; yet he shines out from the first, +notwithstanding, though he makes his power felt but gradually. It is +one and the same sun, though his influence day by day becomes greater; +and so in the Catholic Church, it is the one Virgin Mother, one and +the same from first to last, and Catholics may acknowledge her; and +yet, in spite of that acknowledgment, their devotion to her may be +scanty in one time and place and overflowing in another. + +This distinction is forcibly brought home to a convert, as a +peculiarity of the Catholic religion, on his first introduction to its +worship. The faith is everywhere one and the same; but a large liberty +is accorded to private judgment and inclination in matters of +devotion. Any large church, with its collections and groups of people, +will illustrate this. The fabric itself is dedicated to Almighty God, +and that under the invocation of the Blessed Virgin, or some +particular saint; or again, of some mystery belonging to the Divine +name, or to the incarnation, or of some mystery associated with the +Blessed Virgin. Perhaps there are seven altars or more in it, and +these again have their several saints. Then there is the feast proper +to the particular day; and, during the celebration of mass, of all the +worshippers who crowd around the priest each has his own particular +devotions, with which he follows the rite. No one interferes with his +neighbor; agreeing, as it were, to differ, they pursue independently a +common end, and by paths, distinct but converging, present themselves +before God. Then there are confraternities attached to the church: of +the sacred heart, or the precious blood; associations of prayer for a +good death, or the repose of departed souls, or the conversion of the +heathen: devotions connected with the brown, blue, or red scapular; +not to speak of the great ordinary ritual through the four seasons, +the constant presence of the blessed sacrament, its ever recurring +rite of benediction, and its extraordinary forty hours' exposition. +Or, again, look through some such manual of prayers as the _Raccolta_, +and you at once will see both the number and the variety of devotions +which are open to individual Catholics to choose from, according to +their religious taste and prospect of personal edification. + +Now these diversified modes of honoring God did not come to us in a +day, or only from the apostles; they are the accumulations of +centuries; and, as in the course of years some of them spring up, so +others decline and die Some are local, in memory of some particular +saint who happens to be the evangelist, or patron, or pride of the +{57} nation, or who is entombed in the church, or in the city where it +stands; and these, necessarily, cannot have an earlier date than the +saint's day of death or interment there. The first of such sacred +observances, long before these national memories, were the devotions +paid to the apostles, then those which were paid to the martyrs; yet +there were saints nearer to our Lord than either martyrs or apostles; +but, as if these had been lost in the effulgence of his glory, and +because they were not manifested in external works separate from him, +it happened that for a long while they were less thought of. However, +in process of time the apostles, and then the martyrs, exerted less +influence than before over the popular mind, and the local saints, new +creations of God's power, took their place, or again, the saints of +some religious order here or there established. Then, as comparatively +quiet times succeeded, the religious meditations of holy men and their +secret intercourse with heaven gradually exerted an influence out of +doors, and permeated the Christian populace, by the instrumentality of +preaching and by the ceremonial of the church. Then those luminous +stars rose in the ecclesiastical heavens which were of more august +dignity than any which had preceded them, and were late in rising for +the very reason that they were so specially glorious. Those names, I +say, which at first sight might have been expected to enter soon into +the devotions of the faithful, with better reason might have been +looked for at a later date, and actually were late in their coming. +St. Joseph furnishes the most striking instance of this remark; here +is the clearest of instances of the distinction between doctrine and +devotion. Who, from his prerogatives and the testimony on which they +come to us, had a greater claim to receive an early recognition among +the faithful? A saint of Scripture, the foster-father of our Lord, was +an object of the universal and absolute faith of the Christian world +from the first, yet the devotion to him is comparatively of late date. +When once it began, men seemed surprised that it had not been thought +of before; and now they hold him next to the Blessed Virgin in their +religious affection and veneration. + +As regards the Blessed Virgin, I shall postpone the question of +devotion for a while, and inquire first into the doctrine of the +undivided church (to use your controversial phrase) on the subject of +her prerogatives. + +What is the great rudimental teaching of antiquity from its earliest +date concerning her? By "rudimental teaching" I mean the _primâ facie_ +view of her person and office, the broad outline laid down of her, the +aspect under which she comes to us in the writings of the fathers. She +is the second Eve. [Footnote 11] Now let us consider what this +implies. Eve had a definite, essential position in the first covenant. +The fate of the human race lay with Adam; he it was who represented +us. It was in Adam that we fell; though Eve had fallen, still, if Adam +had stood, we should not have lost those supernatural privileges which +were bestowed upon him as our first father. Yet though Eve was not the +head of the race, still, even as regards the race, she had a place of +her own; for Adam, to whom was divinely committed the naming of all +things, entitled her "the mother of all the living;" a name surely +expressive not of a fact only but of a dignity; but further, as she +thus had her own general relation to the human race, so again had she +her own special place, as regards its trial and its fall in Adam. In +those primeval events, Eve had an integral share. "The woman, being +seduced, was in the transgression." She listened to the evil angel; +she offered the fruit to her husband, and he ate of it. She +co-operated not as an irresponsible instrument, but intimately and +personally in the sin; she brought it about. As the history stands, +she was a _sine qua non_, a positive, active cause of it. {58} And she +had her share in its punishment; in the sentence pronounced on her, +she was recognized as a real agent in the temptation and its issue, +and she suffered accordingly. In that awful transaction there were +three parties concerned--the serpent, the woman, and the man; and at +the time of their sentence an event was announced for the future, in +which the three same parties were to meet again, the serpent, the +woman, and the man; but it was to be a second Adam and a second Eve, +and the new Eve was to be the mother of the new Adam. "I will put +enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed." +The seed of the woman is the word incarnate, and the woman whose seed +or son he is is his mother Mary. This interpretation and the +parallelism it involves seem to me undeniable; but, at all events (and +this is my point), the parallelism is the doctrine of the fathers, +from the earliest times; and, this being established, by the position +and office of Eve in our fall, we are able to determine the position +and office of Mary in our restoration. + + [Footnote 11: _Vid_. "Essay on Development of Doctrine," 1845, p. + 384, etc.] + +I shall adduce passages from their writings, with their respective +countries and dates; and the dates shall extend from their births or +conversions to their deaths, since what they propound is at once the +doctrine which they had received from the generation before them, and +the doctrine which was accepted and recognized as true by the +generation to whom they transmitted it. + +First, then, St. Justin Martyr (A.D. 120-165), St. Irenaeus (120-200), +and Tertullian (160-240). Of these Tertullian represents Africa and +Rome, St. Justin represents Palestine, and St. Irenaeus Asia Minor and +Gaul--or rather he represents St. John the Evangelist, for he had been +taught by the martyr St. Polycarp, who was the intimate associate, as +of St. John, 60 of the other apostles. + +1. St. Justin: [Footnote 12] + + [Footnote 12: I have attempted to translate literally without caring + to write English. ] + + "We know that he, before all creatures proceeded from the Father by + his power and will, . . . and by means of the Virgin became man, + that by what way the disobedience arising from the serpent had its + beginning, by that way also it might have an undoing. For Eve, being + a virgin and undefiled, conceiving the word that was from the + serpent, brought forth disobedience and death; but the Virgin Mary, + taking faith and joy, when the angel told her the good tidings, that + the Spirit of the Lord should come upon her and the power of the + highest overshadow her, and therefore the holy one that was born of + her was Son of God, answered. Be it to me according to thy + word."--_Tryph_. 100. + +2. Tertullian: + + "God recovered his image and likeness, which the devil had seized, + by a rival operation. For into Eve, as yet a virgin, had crept the + word which was the framer of death. Equally into a virgin was to be + introduced the Word of God which was the builder-up of life; that, + what by that sex had gone into perdition, by the same sex might be + brought back to salvation. Eve had believed the serpent; Mary + believed Gabriel; the fault which the one committed by believing, + the other by believing has blotted out."--_De Carn. Christ_, 17. + +3. St Irenaeus: + + "With a fitness, Mary the Virgin is found obedient, saying, 'Behold + thy handmaid, O Lord; be it to me according to thy word.' But Eve + was disobedient; for she obeyed not, while she was yet a virgin. As + she, having indeed Adam for a husband, but as yet being a virgin, + . . . becoming disobedient, became the cause of death both to herself + and to the whole human race, so also Mary, having the predestined + man, and being yet a virgin, being obedient, became both to herself + and to the whole human race the cause of salvation. . . . And on + account of this the Lord said, that the first would be last and the + last first. And the prophet signifies the same, saying, 'Instead of + fathers you have children.' For, whereas the Lord, when born, was + the first begotten of the dead, and received into his bosom the + primitive fathers, he regenerated them into the life of God, he + himself becoming the beginning of the living, since Adam became the + beginning of the dying. Therefore also Luke, commencing the lines of + generations from the Lord, referred it back to Adam, signifying that + he regenerated the old fathers, not they him, into the gospel of + life. And so the knot {59} of Eve's disobedience received its + unloosing through the obedience of Mary; for what Eve, a virgin, + bound by incredulity, that Mary, a virgin, unloosed by faith."-- + _Adv. Haer_, iii. 22. 34. + +And again: + + "As Eve by the speech of an angel was seduced, so as to flee God, + transgressing his word, so also Mary received the good tidings by + means of the angel's speech, so as to bear God within her, being + obedient to his word. And, though the one had disobeyed God, yet the + other was drawn to obey God; that of the virgin Eve the virgin Mary + might become the advocate. And, as by a virgin the human race had + been bound to death, by a virgin it is saved, the balance being + preserved, a virgin's disobedience by a virgin's obedience." + --_Ibid_. v. 19. + +Now, what is especially noticeable in these three writers is, that +they do not speak of the Blessed Virgin as the physical instrument of +our Lord's taking flesh, but as an intelligent, responsible cause of +it; her faith and obedience being accessories to the incarnation, and +gaining it as her reward. As Eve failed in these virtues, and thereby +brought on the fall of the race in Adam, so Mary by means of them had +a part in its restoration. You imply, pp. 255, 256, that the Blessed +Virgin was only a physical instrument in our redemption; "what has +been said of her by the fathers as the chosen _vessel_ of the +incarnation, was applied _personally_ to her" (that is, by Catholics), +p. 151; and again, "The fathers speak of the Blessed Virgin as the +_instrument_ of our salvation, _in that_ she gave birth to the +Redeemer," pp. 155, 156; whereas St. Augustine, in well-known +passages, speaks of her as more exalted by her sanctity than by her +relationship to our Lord. [Footnote 13] However, not to go beyond the +doctrine of the three fathers, they unanimously declare that she was +not a mere instrument in the incarnation, such as David, or Judah, may +be considered; they declare she co-operated in our salvation, not +merely by the descent of the Holy Ghost upon her body, but by specific +holy acts, the effect of the Holy Ghost upon her soul; that, as Eve +forfeited privileges by sin, so Mary earned privileges by the fruits +of grace; that, as Eve was disobedient and unbelieving, so Mary was +obedient and believing; that, as Eve was a cause of ruin to all, Mary +was a cause of salvation to all; that, as Eve made room for Adam's +fall, so Mary made room for our Lord's reparation of it; and thus, +whereas the free gift was not as the offence, but much greater, it +follows that, as Eve co-operated in effecting a great evil, Mary +co-operated in effecting a much greater good. + + [Footnote 13: Opp., t. 8, p. 2, col. 369, t. 6, col. 342.] + +And, beside the run of the argument, which reminds the reader of St. +Paul's antithetical sentences in tracing the analogy between Adam's +work and our Lord's work, it is well to observe the particular words +under which the Blessed Virgin's office is described. Tertullian says +that Mary "blotted out" Eve's fault, and "brought back the female +sex," or "the human race, to salvation;" and St. Irenaeus says that +"by obedience she was the cause or occasion" (whatever was the +original Greek word) "of salvation to herself and the whole human +race;" that by her the human race is saved; that by her Eve's +complication is disentangled; and that she is Eve's advocate, or +friend in need. It is supposed by critics, Protestant as well as +Catholic, that the Greek word for advocate in the original was +paraclete; it should be borne in mind, then, when we are accused of +giving our Lady the titles and offices of her Son, that St. Irenaeus +bestows on her the special name and office proper to the Holy Ghost. + +So much as to the nature of this triple testimony; now as to the worth +of it. For a moment put aside St. Irenaeus, and put together St. +Justin in the East with Tertullian in the West. I think I may assume +that the doctrine of these two fathers about the Blessed Virgin was +the received doctrine of their own {60} respective times and places; +for writers after all are but witnesses of facts and beliefs, and as +such they are treated by all parties in controversial discussion. +Moreover, the coincidence of doctrine which they exhibit, and, again, +the antithetical completeness of it, show that they themselves did not +originate it. The next question is, Who did? For from one definite +organ or source, place or person, it must have come. Then we must +inquire, what length of time would it take for such a doctrine to have +extended, and to be received, in the second century over so wide an +area; that is, to be received before the year 200 in Palestine, +Africa, and Rome? Can we refer the common source of these local +traditions to a date later than that of the apostles, St. John dying +within thirty or forty years of St. Justin's conversion and +Tertullian's birth? Make what allowance you will for whatever possible +exceptions can be taken to this representation; and then, after doing +so, add to the concordant testimony of these two fathers the evidence +of St. Irenaeus, which is so close upon the school of St. John himself +in Asia Minor. "A three-fold cord," as the wise man says, "is not +quickly broken." Only suppose there were so early and so broad a +testimony to the effect that our Lord was a mere man, the son of +Joseph; should we be able to insist upon the faith of the Holy Trinity +as necessary to salvation? Or supposing three such witnesses could be +brought to the fact that a consistory of elders governed the local +churches, or that each local congregation was an independent church, +or that the Christian community was without priests, could Anglicans +maintain their doctrine that the rule of episcopal succession is +necessary to constitute a church? And recollect that the Anglican +Church especially appeals to the ante-Nicene centuries, and taunts us +with having superseded their testimony. + +Having then adduced these three fathers of the second century, I have +at least got so far as this, viz., no one, who acknowledges the force +of early testimony in determining Christian truth, can wonder, no one +can complain, can object, that we Catholics should hold a very high +doctrine concerning the Blessed Virgin, unless indeed stronger +statements can be brought for a contrary conception of her, either of +as early, or at least of a later date. But, as far as I know, no +statements can be brought from the ante-Nicene literature to +invalidate the testimony of the three fathers concerning her; and +little can be brought against it from the fourth century, while in +that fourth century the current of testimony in her behalf is as +strong as in the second; and, as to the fifth, it is far stronger than +in any former time, both in its fulness and its authority. This will +to some extent be seen as I proceed. + +4. St Cyril, of Jerusalem (315-386), speaks for Palestine: + + "Since through Eve, a virgin, came death, it behoved that through a + virgin, or rather from a virgin, should life appear; that, as the + serpent had deceived the one, so to the other Gabriel might bring + good tidings."--_Cat_. xii. 15. + +5. St. Ephrem Syrus (lie died 378) is a witness for the Syrians proper +and the neighboring Orientals, in contrast to the Graeco-Syrians. A +native of Nisibis, on the farther side of the Euphrates, he knew no +language but Syriac: + + "Through Eve the beautiful and desirable glory of men was + extinguished; but it has revived through Mary."--_Opp. Syr._, ii. p. + 318. + +Again: + + "In the beginning, by the sin of our first parents, death passed + upon all men; to-day, through Mary, we are translated from death + unto life. In the beginning, the serpent filled the ears of Eve, and + the poison spread thence over the whole body; to-day, Mary from her + ears received the {61} champion of eternal happiness; what, + therefore, was an instrument of death, was an instrument of life + also."--iii. p. 607. + +I have already referred to St. Paul's contrast between Adam and our +Lord in his Epistle to the Romans, as also in his first Epistle to the +Corinthians. Some writers attempt to say that there is no doctrinal +truth, but a mere rhetorical display, in those passages. It is quite +as easy to say so as to attempt so to dispose of this received +comparison, in the writings of the fathers, between Eve and Mary. + +6. St. Epiphanius (320-400) speaks for Egypt, Palestine, and Cyprus: + + "She it is who is signified by Eve, enigmatically receiving the + appellation of the mother of the living. . . . It was a wonder that + after the fall she had this great epithet. And, according to what is + material, from that Eve all the race of men on earth is generated. + But thus in truth from Mary the Life itself was born in the world, + that Mary might bear living things and become the mother of living + things. Therefore, enigmatically, Mary is called the mother of + living things. . . Also, there is another thing to consider as to + these women, and wonderful--as to Eve and Mary. Eve became a cause + of death to man . . . and Mary a cause of life; . . . that life + might be instead of death, life excluding death which came from the + woman, viz., he who through the woman has become our life." + --_Haer_. 78. 18. + +7. By the time of St. Jerome (331-420), the contrast between Eve and +Mary had almost passed into a proverb. He says (Ep. xxii. 21, ad +Eustoch.), "Death by Eve, life by Mary." Nor let it be supposed that +he, any more than the preceding fathers, considered the Blessed Virgin +a mere physical instrument of giving birth to our Lord, who is the +life. So far from it, in the epistle from which I have quoted, he is +only adding another virtue to that crown which gained for Mary her +divine maternity. They have spoken of faith, joy, and obedience; St. +Jerome adds, what they had only suggested, virginity. After the manner +of the fathers in his own day, he is setting forth the Blessed Mary to +the high-born Roman lady whom he is addressing as the model of the +virginal life; and his argument in its behalf is, that it is higher +than the marriage state, not in itself, viewed in any mere natural +respect, but as being the free act of self-consecration to God, and +from the personal religious purpose which it involves: + + "Higher wage," he says, "is due to that which is not a compulsion, + but an offering; for, were virginity commanded, marriage would seem + to be put out of the question; and it would be most cruel to force + men against nature, and to extort from them an angel's life."--20. + +I do not know whose testimony is more important than St. Jerome's, the +friend of Pope Damasus at Rome, the pupil of St. Gregory Nazianzen at +Constantinople, and of Didymus in Alexandria, a native of Dalmatia, +yet an inhabitant, at different times of his life, of Gaul, Syria, and +Palestine. + +8. St. Jerome speaks for the whole world, except Africa; and for +Africa in the fourth century, if we must limit so world-wide an +authority to place, witnesses St. Augustine (354-430). He repeats the +words as if a proverb; "By a woman death, by a woman life" (Opp. t. v. +Serm. 233); elsewhere he enlarges on the idea conveyed in it. In one +place he quotes St. Irenaeus's words as cited above (adv. Julian i. +4). In another he speaks as follows: + + "It is a great sacrament that, whereas through woman death became + our portion, so life was born to us by woman; that, in the case of + both sexes, male and female, the baffled devil should be tormented, + when on the overthrow of both sexes he was rejoicing; whose + punishment had been small, if both sexes had been liberated in us, + without our being liberated through both."--_Opp. t. vi. De Agon, + Christ_, c. 24. + +{62} + +9. St. Peter Chrysologus (400-450), Bishop of Ravenna, and one of the +chief authorities in the fourth General Council: + + "Blessed art thou among women; for among women, on whose womb Eve, + who was cursed, brought punishment, Mary, being blest, rejoices, is + honored, and is looked up to. And woman now is truly made through + grace the mother of the living, who had been by nature the mother of + the dying. . . . Heaven feels awe of God, angels tremble at him, the + creature sustains him not, nature sufficeth not, and yet one maiden + so takes, receives, entertains him, as a guest within her breast, + that, for the very hire of her home, and as the price of her womb, + she asks, she obtains, peace for the earth, glory for the heavens, + salvation for the lost, life for the dead, a heavenly parentage for + the earthly, the union of God himself with human flesh."--_Serm._ + 140. + +It is difficult to express more explicitly, though in oratorical +language, that the Blessed Virgin had a real, meritorious +co-operation, a share which had a "hire" and a "price" in the reversal +of the fall. + +10. St. Fulgentius, Bishop of Ruspe in Africa (468-533). The homily +which contains the following passage is placed by Ceillier (t. xvi. p. +127) among his genuine works: + + "In the wife of the first man, the wickedness of the devil depraved + her seduced mind; in the mother of the second Man, the grace of God + preserved both her mind inviolate and her flesh. On her mind he + conferred the most firm faith; from her flesh he took away lust + altogether. Since then man was in a miserable way condemned for sin, + therefore without sin was in a marvellous way born the God + man."--_Serm_. 2, p. 124, _De Dupl. Nativ._ + +Accordingly, in the sermon which follows (if it is his), he continues, +illustrating her office of universal mother, as ascribed to her by St. +Epiphanius: + + "Come ye virgins to a virgin, come ye who conceive to her who + conceived, ye who bear to one who bore, mothers to a mother, ye that + suckle to one who suckled, young girls to the young girl. It is for + this reason that the Virgin Mary has taken on her in our Lord Jesus + Christ all these divisions of nature, that to all women who have + recourse to her she may be a succor, and so restore the whole race + of women who come to her, being the new Eve, by keeping virginity, + as the new Adam, the Lord Jesus Christ, recovers the whole race of + men." + +Such is the rudimental view, as I have called it, which the fathers +have given us of Mary, as the second Eve, the mother of the living. I +have cited ten authors. I could cite more were it necessary. Except +the two last, they write gravely and without any rhetoric. I allow +that the two last write in a different style, since the extracts I +have made are from their sermons; but I do not see that the coloring +conceals the outline. And, after all, men use oratory on great +subjects, not on small; nor would they, and other fathers whom I might +quote, have lavished their high language upon the Blessed Virgin, such +as they gave to no one else, unless they knew well that no one else +had such claims as she had on their love and veneration. + +And now I proceed to dwell for a while upon two inferences, which it +is obvious to draw from the rudimental doctrine itself; the first +relates to the sanctity of the Blessed Virgin, the second to her +greatness. + +1. Her _sanctity_. She holds, as the fathers teach us, that office in +our restoration which Eve held in our fall. Now, in the first place, +what were Eve's endowments to enable her to enter upon her trial? She +could not have stood against the wiles of the devil, though she was +innocent and sinless, without the grant of a large grace. And this she +had--a heavenly gift, which was over and above and additional to that +nature of hers, which she received from Adam, as Adam before her had +also received the same gift, at the very time (as it is commonly held) +of his original creation. This is Anglican doctrine as well as +Catholic; it is the doctrine of Bishop Bull. He has written a +dissertation on the point. He speaks of the doctrine which "many of +the schoolmen affirm, that Adam was created {63} in grace--that is, +received a principle of grace and divine life from his very creation, +or in the moment of the infusion of his soul; of which," he says, "for +my own part I have little doubt." Again, he says: "It is abundantly +manifest, from the many testimonies alleged, that the ancient doctors +of the church did, with a general consent, acknowledge that our first +parents, in the state of integrity, had in them something more than +nature--that is, were endowed with the divine principle of the +Spirit, in order to a supernatural felicity." + +Now, taking this for granted, because I know that you and those who +agree with you maintain it as well as we do, I ask, Was not Mary as +fully endowed as Eve? is it any violent inference that she, who was to +co-operate in the redemption of the world, at least was not less +endowed with power from on high, than she who, given as a helpmate to +her husband, did in the event but co-operate with him for its ruin? If +Eve was raised above human nature by that indwelling moral gift which +we call grace, is it rash to say that Mary had a greater grace? And +this consideration gives significance to the angel's salutation of her +as "full of grace"--an interpretation of the original word which is +undoubtedly the right one, as soon as we resist the common Protestant +assumption that grace is a mere external approbation or acceptance, +answering to the word "favor;" whereas it is, as the fathers teach, a +real inward condition or superadded quality of soul. And if Eve had +this supernatural inward gift given her from the moment of her +personal existence, is it possible to deny that Mary too had this gift +from the very first moment of her personal existence? I do not know +how to resist this inference--well, this is simply and literally the +doctrine of the immaculate conception. I say the doctrine of the +immaculate conception is in its substance this, and nothing more or +less than this (putting aside the question of degrees of grace); and +it really does seem to me bound up in that doctrine of the fathers, +that Mary is the second Eve. + +It is to me a most strange phenomenon that so many learned and devout +men stumble at this doctrine, and I can only account for it by +supposing that, in matter of fact, they do not know what we mean by +the immaculate conception; and your volume (may I say it?) bears out +my suspicion. It is a great consolation to have reason for thinking +so--for believing that in some sort the persons in question are in the +position of those great saints in former times who are said to have +hesitated about it, when they would not have hesitated at all if the +word "conception" had been clearly explained in that sense in which +now it is universally received. I do not see how any one who holds +with Bull the Catholic doctrine of the supernatural endowments of our +first parents, has fair reason for doubting our doctrine about the +Blessed Virgin. It has no reference whatever to her parents, but +simply to her own person; it does but affirm that, together with the +nature which she inherited from her parents, that is, her own nature, +she had a superadded fulness of grace, and that from the first moment +of her existence. Suppose Eve had stood the trial, and not lost her +first grace, and suppose she had eventually had children, those +children from the first moment of their existence would, through +divine bounty, have received the same privilege that she had ever had; +that is, as she was taken from Adam's side, in a garment, so to say, +of grace, so they in turn would have received what may be called an +immaculate conception. They would have been conceived in grace, as in +fact they are conceived in sin. What is there difficult in this +doctrine? What is there unnatural? Mary may be called a daughter of +Eve unfallen. You believe with us that St. John Baptist had grace +given to him three months before his birth, at the time {64} that the +Blessed Virgin visited his mother. He accordingly was not immaculately +conceived, because he was alive before grace came to him; but our +Lady's case only differs from his in this respect, that to her grace +came not three months merely before her birth, but from the first +moment of her being, as it had been given to Eve. + +But it may be said, How does this enable us to say that she was +conceived without _original sin_? If Anglicans knew what we mean by +original sin, they would not ask the question. Our doctrine of +original sin is not the same as the Protestant doctrine. "Original +sin," with us, cannot be called sin in the ordinary sense of the word +"sin;" it is a term denoting the _imputation_ of Adam's sin, or the +state to which Adam's sin reduces his children; but by Protestants it +is understood to be sin in the same sense as actual sin. We, with the +fathers, think of it as something negative; Protestants as something +positive. Protestants hold that it is a disease, a change of nature, a +poison internally corrupting the soul, and propagated from father to +son, after the manner of a bad constitution; and they fancy that we +ascribe a different nature from ours to the Blessed Virgin, different +from that of her parents, and from that of fallen Adam. We hold +nothing of the kind; we consider that in Adam she died, as others; +that she was included, together with the whole race, in Adam's +sentence; that she incurred his debt, as we do; but that, for the sake +of him who was to redeem her and us upon the cross, to her the debt +was remitted by anticipation; on her the sentence was not carried out, +except indeed as regards her natural death, for she died when her time +came, as others. All this we teach, but we deny that she had original +sin; for by original sin we mean, as I have already said, something +negative, viz., this only, the _deprivation_ of that supernatural +unmerited grace which Adam and Eve had on their creation--deprivation +and the consequences of deprivation. Mary could not merit, any more +than they, the restoration of that grace; but it was restored to her +by God's free bounty from the very first moment of her existence, and +thereby, in fact, she never came under the original curse, which +consisted in the loss of it. And she had this special privilege in +order to fit her to become the mother of her and our Redeemer, to fit +her mentally, spiritually, for it; so that, by the aid of the first +grace, she might so grow in grace that when the angel came, and her +Lord was at hand, she might be "full of grace," prepared, as far as a +creature could be prepared, to receive him into her bosom. + +I have drawn the doctrine of the immaculate conception, as an +immediate inference, from the primitive doctrine that Mary is the +second Eve. The argument seems to me conclusive; and, if it has not +been universally taken as such, this has come to pass because there +has not been a clear understanding among Catholics what exactly was +meant by the immaculate conception. To many it seemed to imply that +the Blessed Virgin did not die in Adam, that she did not come under +the penalty of the fall, that she was not redeemed; that she was +conceived in some way inconsistent with the verse in the _Miserere_ +psalm. If controversy had in earlier days so cleared the subject as to +make it plain to all that the doctrine meant nothing else than that, +in fact, in her case the general sentence on mankind was not carried +out, and that by means of the indwelling in her of divine grace from +the first moment of her being (and this is all the decree of 1854 has +declared), I cannot believe that the doctrine would have ever been +opposed; for an instinctive sentiment has led Christians jealously to +put the Blessed Mary aside when sin comes into discussion. This is +expressed in the well-known words of St. Augustine. All have sinned +"except the holy Virgin Mary, {65} concerning whom, for the honor of +the Lord, I wish no question to be raised at all, when we are treating +of sins" (de Nat. et Grat. 42); words which, whatever St. Augustine's +actual occasion of using them (to which you refer, p. 176), certainly, +in the spirit which they breathe, are well adapted to convey the +notion that, apart from her relation to her parents, she had not +personally any part in sin whatever. It is true that several great +fathers of the fourth century do imply or assert that on one or two +occasions she did sin venially or showed infirmity. This is the only +real objection which I know of; and, as I do not wish to pass it over +lightly, I propose to consider it at the end of this letter. + +2. Now, secondly, her _greatness_. Here let us suppose that our first +parents had overcome in their trial, and had gained for their +descendants for ever the full possession, as if by right, of the +privileges which were promised to their obedience--grace here and +glory hereafter. Is it possible that those descendants, pious and +happy from age to age in their temporal homes, would have forgotten +their benefactors? Would they not have followed them in thought into +the heavens, and gratefully commemorated them on earth? The history of +the temptation, the craft of the serpent, their steadfastness in +obedience--the loyal vigilance, the sensitive purity of Eve--the great +issue, salvation wrought out for all generations--would have been +never from their minds, ever welcome to their ears. This would have +taken place from the necessity of our nature. Every nation has its +mythical hymns and epics about its first fathers and its heroes. The +great deeds of Charlemagne, Alfred, Coeur de Lion, Wallace, Louis the +Ninth, do not die; and though their persons are gone from us, we make +much of their names. Milton's Adam, after his fall, understands the +force of this law, and shrinks from the prospect of its operation: + + "Who of all ages to succeed but, feeling + The evil on him brought by me, will curse + My head? Ill fare our ancestor impure; + For this we may thank Adam." + +If this anticipation has not been fulfilled in the event, it is owing +to the needs of our penal life, our state of perpetual change, and the +ignorance and unbelief incurred by the fall; also because, fallen as +we are, from the hopefulness of our nature we feel more pride in our +national great men than dejection at our national misfortunes. Much +more then in the great kingdom and people of God--the saints are ever +in our sight, and not as mere ineffectual ghosts, but as if present +bodily in their past selves. It is said of them, "Their works do +follow them;" what they were here, such are they in heaven and in the +church. As we call them by their earthly names, so we contemplate them +in their earthly characters and histories. Their acts, callings, and +relations below are types and anticipations of their mission above. +Even in the case of our Lord himself, whose native home is the eternal +heavens, it is said of him in his state of glory, that he is a "priest +for ever;" and when he comes again he will be recognized, by those who +pierced him, as being the very same that he was on earth. The only +question is, whether the Blessed Virgin had a part, a real part, in +the economy of grace, whether, when she was on earth, she secured by +her deeds any claim on our memories; for, if she did, it is impossible +we should put her away from us, merely because she is gone hence, and +not look at her still, according to the measure of her earthly +history, with gratitude and expectation. If, as St. Irenaeus says, she +did the part of an advocate, a friend in need, even in her mortal +life, if, as St. Jerome and St. Ambrose say, she was on earth the +great pattern of virgins, if she had a meritorious share in bringing +about our redemption, if her maternity was earned by her faith and +obedience, if her divine Son was subject to her, and if she stood by +the {66} cross with a mother's heart and drank in to the full those +sufferings which it was her portion to gaze upon, it is impossible +that we should not associate these characteristics of her life on +earth with her present state of blessedness; and this surely she +anticipated, when she said in her hymn that "all generations shall +call her blessed." + +I am aware that, in thus speaking, I am following a line of thought +which is rather a meditation than an argument in controversy, and I +shall not carry it further; but still, in turning to other topics, it +is to the point to inquire whether the popular astonishment, excited +by our belief in the Blessed Virgin's present dignity, does not arise +from the circumstance that the bulk of men, engaged in matters of the +world, have never calmly considered her historical position in the +gospels so as rightly to realize (if I may use the word a second time) +what that position imports. I do not claim for the generality of +Catholics any greater powers of reflection upon the objects of their +faith than Protestants commonly have, but there is a sufficient number +of religious men among Catholics who, instead of expending their +devotional energies (as so many serious Protestants do) on abstract +doctrines, such as justification by faith only, or the sufficiency of +holy Scripture, employ themselves in the contemplation of Scripture +facts, and bring out in a tangible form the doctrines involved in +them, and give such a substance and color to the sacred history as to +influence their brethren, who, though superficial themselves, are +drawn by their Catholic instinct to accept conclusions which they +could not indeed themselves have elicited, but which, when elicited, +they feel to be true. However, it would be out of place to pursue this +course of reasoning here; and instead of doing so, I shall take what +perhaps you may think a very bold step--I shall find the doctrine of +our Lady's present exaltation in Scripture. + +I mean to find it in the vision of the woman and child in the twelfth +chapter of the Apocalypse. [Footnote 14] Now here two objections will +be made to me at once: first, that such an interpretation is but +poorly supported by the fathers; and secondly, that in ascribing such +a picture of the Madonna (as it may be called) to the apostolic age, I +am committing an anachronism. + + [Footnote 14: _Vid_. "Essay on Doctr. Development," p. 384, and + Bishop Ullathorne's work on the "Immaculate Conception," p. 77.] + +As to the former of these objections, I answer as follows: Christians +have never gone to Scripture for proofs of their doctrines till there +was actual need from the pressure of controversy. If in those times +the Blessed Virgin's dignity were unchallenged on all hands as a +matter of doctrine, Scripture, as far as its argumentative matter was +concerned, was likely to remain a sealed book to them. Thus, to take +an instance in point, the Catholic party in the English Church (say +the Non-jurors), unable by their theory of religion simply to take +their stand on tradition, and distressed for proof of their doctrines, +had their eyes sharpened to scrutinize and to understand the letter of +holy Scripture, which to others brought no instruction. And the +peculiarity of their interpretations is this--that they have in +themselves great logical cogency, yet are but faintly supported by +patristical commentators. Such is the use of the word [Greek text] or +_facere_ in our Lord's institution of the holy eucharist, which, by a +reference to the old Testament, is found to be a word of sacrifice. +Such again is [Greek text] in the passage in the Acts, "As they +_ministered_ to the Lord and fasted," which again is a sacerdotal +term. And such the passage in Rom. xv. 16, in which several terms are +used which have an allusion to the sacrificial eucharistic rite. Such, +too, is St. Paul's repeated message to the _household_ of Onesiphorus, +with no mention of Onesiphorus himself, but in one place, with the +addition of a prayer that "he might find mercy of the Lord" in the day +of {67} judgment, which, taking into account its wording and the known +usage of the first centuries, we can hardly deny is a prayer for his +soul. Other texts there are which ought to find a place in ancient +controversies, and the omission of which by the fathers affords matter +for more surprise; those, for instance, which, according to +Middleton's rule, are real proofs of our Lord's divinity, and yet are +passed over by Catholic disputants; for these bear upon a then +existing controversy of the first moment and of the most urgent +exigency. + +As to the second objection which I have supposed, so far from allowing +it, I consider that it is built upon a mere imaginary fact, and that +the truth of the matter lies in the very contrary direction. The +Virgin and Child is _not_ a mere modern idea; on the contrary, it is +represented again and again, as every visitor to Rome is aware, in the +paintings of the Catacombs. Mary is there drawn with the Divine Infant +in her lap, she with hands extended in prayer, he with his hand in the +attitude of blessing. No representation can more forcibly convey the +doctrine of the high dignity of the mother, and, I will add, of her +power over her Son. Why should the memory of his time of subjection be +so dear to Christians, and so carefully preserved? The only question +to be determined, is the precise date of these remarkable monuments of +the first age of Christianity. That they belong to the centuries of +what Anglicans call the "undivided church" is certain; but lately +investigations have been pursued which place some of them at an +earlier date than any one anticipated as possible. I am not in a +position to quote largely from the works of the Cavaliere de Rossi, +who has thrown so much light upon the subject; but I have his "Imagini +Scelte," published in 1863, and they are sufficient for my purpose. In +this work he has given us from the Catacombs various representations +of the Virgin and Child; the latest of these belong to the early part +of the fourth century, but the earliest he believes to be referable to +the very age of the apostles. He comes to this conclusion from the +style and the skill of the composition, and from the history, +locality, and existing inscriptions of the subterranean in which it is +found. However, he does not go so far as to insist upon so early a +date; yet the utmost liberty he grants is to refer the painting to the +era of the first Antonines--that is, to a date within half a century +of the death of St. John. I consider then that, as you fairly use, in +controversy with Protestants, the traditional doctrine of the church +in early times, as an explanation of the Scripture text, or at least +as a suggestion, or as a defence, of the sense which you may wish to +put on it, quite apart from the question whether your interpretation +itself is traditional, so it is lawful for me, though I have not the +positive words of the fathers on my side, to shelter my own +interpretation of the apostle's vision under the fact of the extant +pictures of Mother and Child in the Roman Catacombs. There is another +principle of Scripture interpretation which we should hold with +you--when we speak of a doctrine being contained in Scripture, we do +not necessarily mean that it is contained there in direct categorical +terms, but that there is no other satisfactory way of accounting for +the language and expressions of the sacred writers, concerning the +subject-matter in question, than to suppose that they held upon it the +opinions which we hold; that they would not have spoken as they have +spoken _unless_ they held it. For myself I have ever felt the truth of +this principle, as regards the Scripture proof of the Holy Trinity; I +should not have found out that doctrine in the sacred text without +previous traditional teaching; but when once it is suggested from +without, it commends itself as the one true interpretation, from its +appositeness, because no other view of doctrine, which can be ascribed +to the inspired writers, so happily {68} solves the obscurities and +seeming inconsistencies of their teaching. And now to apply what I +have said to the passage in the Apocalypse. + +If there is an apostle on whom, _à priori_, our eyes would be fixed, +as likely to teach us about the Blessed Virgin, it is St. John, to +whom she was committed by our Lord on the cross--with whom, as +tradition goes, she lived at Ephesus till she was taken away. This +anticipation is confirmed _à posteriori_; for, as I have said above, +one of the earliest and fullest of our informants concerning her +dignity, as being the second Eve, is Irenaeus, who came to Lyons from +Asia Minor, and had been taught by the immediate disciples of St. +John. The apostle's vision is as follows: + +"A great sign appeared in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and +the moon under her feet; and on her head a crown of twelve stars. And +being with child, she cried travailing in birth, and was in pain to be +delivered. And there was seen another sign in heaven; and behold a +great red dragon . . . And the dragon stood before the woman who was +ready to be delivered, that, when she should be delivered, he might +devour her son. And she brought forth a man-child, who was to rule all +nations with an iron rod; and her son was taken up to God and to his +throne. And the woman fled into the wilderness." Now I do not deny, of +course, that, under the image of the woman, the church is signified; +but what I would maintain is this, that the holy apostle would not +have spoken of the church under this particular image _unless_ there +had existed a Blessed Virgin Mary, who was exalted on high, and the +object of veneration to all the faithful. + +No one doubts that the "man-child" spoken of is an allusion to our +Lord; why, then, is not "the woman" an allusion to his mother? This +surely is the obvious sense of the words; of course it has a further +sense also, which is the scope of the image; doubtless the child +represents the children of the church, and doubtless the woman +represents the church; this, I grant, is the real or direct sense, but +what is the sense of the symbol? _who_ are the woman and the child? I +answer, They are not personifications but persons. This is true of the +child, therefore it is true of the woman. + +But again: not only mother and child, but a serpent, is introduced +into the vision. Such a meeting of man, woman, and serpent has not +been found in Scripture, since the beginning of Scripture, and now it +is found in its end. Moreover, in the passage in the Apocalypse, as if +to supply, before Scripture came to an end, what was wanting in its +beginning, we are told, and for the first time, that the serpent in +Paradise was the evil spirit. If the dragon of St. John is the same as +the serpent of Moses, and the man-child is "the seed of the woman," +why is not the woman herself she whose seed the man-child is? And, if +the first woman is not an allegory, why is the second? if the first +woman is Eve, why is not the second Mary? + +But this is not all. The image of the woman, according to Scripture +usage, is too bold and prominent for a mere personification. Scripture +is not fond of allegories. We have indeed frequent figures there, as +when the sacred writers speak of the arm or sword of the Lord; and so +too when they speak of Jerusalem or Samaria in the feminine; or of the +mountains leaping for joy, or of the church as a bride or as a vine; +but they are not much given to dressing up abstract ideas or +generalizations in personal attributes. This is the classical rather +than the Scripture style. Xenophon places Hercules between Virtue and +Vice, represented as women; AEschylus introduces into his drama Force +and Violence; Virgil gives personality to public rumor or Fame, and +Plautus to Poverty. So on monuments done in the classical style, we +{69} see virtues, vices, rivers, renown, death, and the like, turned +into human figures of men and women. I do not say there are no +instances at all of this method in Scripture, but I say that such +poetical compositions are strikingly unlike its usual method. Thus we +at once feel its difference from Scripture, when we betake ourselves +to the Pastor of Hermes, and find the church a woman, to St. +Methodius, and find Virtue a woman, and to St. Gregory's poem, and +find Virginity again a woman. Scripture deals with types rather than +personifications. Israel stands for the chosen people, David for +Christ, Jerusalem for heaven. Consider the remarkable representations, +dramatic I may call them, in Jeremiah, Ezechiel, and Hosea; +predictions, threatenings, and promises are acted out by those +prophets. Ezechiel is commanded to shave his head, and to divide and +scatter his hair; and Ahias tears his garment, and gives ten out of +twelve parts of it to Jeroboam. So, too, the structure of the imagery +in the Apocalypse is not a mere allegorical creation, but is founded +on the Jewish ritual. In like manner our Lord's bodily cures are +visible types of the power of his grace upon the soul; and his +prophecy of the last day is conveyed under that of the fall of +Jerusalem. Even his parables are not simply ideal, but relations of +occurrences which did or might take place, under which was conveyed a +spiritual meaning. The description of Wisdom in the Proverbs, and +other sacred books, has brought out the instinct of commentators in +this respect. They felt that Wisdom could not be a mere +personification, and they determined that it was our Lord; and the +later of these books, by their own more definite language, warranted +that interpretation. Then, when it was found that the Arians used it +in derogation of our Lord's divinity, still, unable to tolerate the +notion of a mere allegory, commentators applied the description to the +Blessed Virgin. Coming back then to the Apocalyptic vision, I ask, If +the woman must be some real person, who can it be whom the apostle +saw, and intends, and delineates, but that same great mother to whom +the chapters in the Proverbs are accommodated? And let it be observed, +moreover, that in this passage, from the allusion in it to the history +of the fall, she may be said still to be represented under the +character of the second Eve. I make a further remark; it is sometimes +asked, Why do not the sacred writers mention our Lady's greatness? I +answer, she was, or may have been, alive when the apostles and +evangelists wrote; there was just one book of Scripture certainly +written after her death, and that book does (if I may so speak) +canonize her. + +But if all this be so, if it is really the Blessed Virgin whom +Scripture represents as clothed with the sun, crowned with the stars +of heaven, and with the moon as her footstool, what height of glory +may we not attribute to her? and what are we to say of those who, +through ignorance, run counter to the voice of Scripture, to the +testimony of the fathers, to the traditions of East and West, and +speak and act contemptuously toward her whom her Lord delighteth to +honor? + + +Now I have said all I mean to say on what I have called the rudimental +teaching of antiquity about the Blessed Virgin; but, after all, I have +not insisted on the highest view of her prerogatives which the fathers +have taught us. You, my dear friend, who know so well the ancient +controversies and councils, may have been surprised why I should not +have yet spoken of her as the Theotocos; but I wished to show on how +broad a basis her greatness rests, independent of that wonderful +title; and again, I have been loth to enlarge upon the force of a +word, which is rather matter for devotional thought than for polemical +dispute. However, I might as well not {70} write on my subject at all +as altogether be silent upon it. + +It is, then, an integral portion of the faith fixed by ecumenical +council, a portion of it which you hold as well as I, that the Blessed +Virgin is Theotocos, Deipara, or Mother of God; and this word, when +thus used, carries with it no admixture of rhetoric, no taint of +extravagant affection; it has nothing else but a well-weighed, grave, +dogmatic sense, which corresponds and is adequate to its sound. It +intends to express that God is her Son, as truly as any one of us is +the son of his own mother. If this be so, what can be said of any +creature whatever which may not be said of her? what can be said too +much, so that it does not compromise the attributes of the Creator? +He, indeed, might have created a being more perfect, more admirable, +than she is; he might have endued that being, so created, with a +richer grant of grace, of power, of blessedness; but in one respect +she surpasses all even possible creations, viz., that she is Mother of +her Creator. It is this awful title, which both illustrates and +connects together the two prerogatives of Mary, on which I have been +lately enlarging, her sanctity and her greatness. It is the issue of +her sanctity; it is the source of her greatness. What dignity can be +too great to attribute to her who is as closely bound up, as +intimately one, with the Eternal Word, as a mother is with a son? What +outfit of sanctity, what fulness and redundance of grace, what +exuberance of merits must have been hers, on the supposition, which +the fathers justify, that her Maker regarded them at all, and took +them into account, when he condescended "not to abhor the Virgin's +womb?" Is it surprising, then, that on the one hand she should be +immaculate in her conception? or on the other that she should be +exalted as a queen, with a crown of twelve stars? Men sometimes wonder +that we call her mother of life, of mercy, of salvation; what are all +these titles compared to that one name, Mother of God? + +I shall say no more about this title here. It is scarcely possible to +write of it without diverging into a style of composition unsuited to +a letter; so I proceed to the history of its use. + +The title of _Theotocos_ [Footnote 15] begins with ecclesiastical +writers of a date hardly later than that at which we read of her as +the second Eve. It first occurs in the works of Origen (185-254); but +he, witnessing for Egypt and Palestine, witnesses also that it was in +use before his time; for, as Socrates informs us, he "interpreted how +it was to be used, and discussed the question at length" (Hist. vii. +32). Within two centuries (431), in the general council held against +Nestorius, it was made part of the formal dogmatic teaching of the +church. At that time Theodoret, who from his party connections might +have been supposed disinclined to its solemn recognition, owned that +"the ancient and more than ancient heralds of the orthodox faith +taught the use of the term according to the apostolic tradition." At +the same date John of Antioch, who for a while sheltered Nestorius, +whose heresy lay in the rejection of the term, said, "This title no +ecclesiastical teacher has put aside. Those who have used it are many +and eminent, and those who have not used it have not attacked those +who did." Alexander again, one of the fiercest partisans of Nestorius, +allows the use of the word, though he considers it dangerous. "That in +festive solemnities," he says, "or in preaching or teaching, +_theotocos_ should be unguardedly said by the orthodox without +explanation is no blame, because such statements were not dogmatic, +nor said with evil meaning." If we look for those, in the interval +between Origen and the council, to whom Alexander refers, we find it +used again and again by the fathers in such of their works as are +extant: by {71} Archelans of Mesopotamia, Eusebius of Palestine, +Alexander of Egypt, in the third century; in the fourth, by Athanasius +many times with emphasis, by Cyril of Palestine, Gregory Nyssen of +Cappadocia, Gregory Nazianzen of Cappadocia, Antiochus of Syria, and +Ammonius of Thrace; not to speak of the Emperor Julian, who, having no +local or ecclesiastical domicile, speaks for the whole of Christendom. +Another and earlier emperor, Constantine, in his speech before the +assembled bishops at Nicaea, uses the still more explicit title of +"the Virgin Mother of God;" which is also used by Ambrose of Milan, +and by Vincent and Cassian in the south of France, and then by St. +Leo. + + [Footnote 15: _Vid_. "translation of St. Athanasius," pp. 420, 440, + 447.] + +So much for the term; it would be tedious to produce the passages of +authors who, using or not using the term, convey the idea. "Our God +was carried in the womb of Mary," says Ignatius, who was martyred A.D. +106. "The word of God," says Hippolytus, "was carried in that virgin +frame." "The Maker of all," says Amphilochius, "is born of a virgin." +"She did compass without circumscribing the Sun of justice--the +Everlasting is born," says Chrysostom. "God dwelt in the womb," says +Proclus. "When thou hearest that God speaks from the bush," asks +Theodotus, "in the bush seest thou not the Virgin?" Cassian says, +"Mary bore her Author." "The one God only-begotten," says Hilary, "is +introduced into the womb of a virgin." "The Everlasting," says +Ambrose, "came into the Virgin him." "The closed gate," says Jerome, +"by which alone the Lord God of Israel enters, is the Virgin Mary." +"That man from heaven," says Capriolus, "is God conceived in the +womb." "He is made in thee," says Augustine, "who made thee." + +This being the faith of the fathers about the Blessed Virgin, we need +not wonder that it should in no long time be transmuted into devotion. +No wonder if their language should be unmeasured, when so great a term +as "Mother of God" had been formally set down as the safe limit of it. +No wonder if it became stronger and stronger as time went on, since +only in a long period could the fulness of its import be exhausted. +And in matter of fact, and as might be anticipated (with the few +exceptions which I have noted above, and which I am to treat of +below), the current of thought in those early ages did uniformly tend +to make much of the Blessed Virgin and to increase her honors, not to +circumscribe them. Little jealousy was shown of her in those times; +but, when any such niggardness of devotion occurred, then one father +or other fell upon the offender, with zeal, not to say with +fierceness. Thus St. Jerome inveighs against Helvidius; thus St. +Epiphanius denounces Apollinaris, St. Cyril Nestorius, and St. Ambrose +Bonosus; on the other hand, each successive insult offered to her by +individual adversaries did but bring out more fully the intimate +sacred affection with which Christendom regarded her. "She was alone, +and wrought the world's salvation and conceived the redemption of +all," says Ambrose; [Footnote 16] "she had so great grace, as not +only to preserve virginity herself, but to confer it upon those whom +she visited." "The rod out of the stem of Jesse," says Jerome, "and +the eastern gate through which the high priest alone goes in and out, +yet is ever shut" "The wise woman," says Nilus, who "hath clad +believers, from the fleece of the Lamb born of her, with the clothing +of incorruption, and delivered them from their spiritual nakedness." +"The mother of life, of beauty, of majesty, the morning star," +according to Antiochus. "The mystical new heavens," "the heavens +carrying the Divinity," "the fruitful vine," "by whom we are +translated from death to life," according to St. Ephrem. "The manna +which is delicate, bright, sweet, and virgin, {72} which, as though +coming from heaven, has poured down on all the people of the churches +a food pleasanter than honey," according to St. Maximus. + + [Footnote 16: "Essay on Doctr. Dev.," p. 408] + +Proclus calls her "the unsullied shell which contains the pearl of +price," "the church's diadem," "the expression of orthodoxy." "Run +through all creation in your thought," he says, "and see if there be +one equal or superior to the Holy Virgin, Mother of God." "Hail, +mother, clad in light, of the light which sets not," says Theodotus, +or some one else at Ephesus--"hail, all-undefiled mother of holiness; +hail, most pellucid fountain of the life-giving stream." And St. Cyril +too at Ephesus, "Hail, Mary, Mother of God, majestic common-treasure +of the whole world, the lamp unquenchable, the crown of virginity, the +staff of orthodoxy, the indissoluble temple, the dwelling of the +illimitable, mother and virgin, through whom he in the holy gospels is +called blessed who cometh in the name of the Lord, .... through whom +the Holy Trinity is sanctified, through whom angels and archangels +rejoice, devils are put to flight, .... and the fallen creature is +received up into the heavens, etc, etc." [Footnote 17] Such is but a +portion of the panegyrical language which St. Cyril used in the third +ecumenical council. + + [Footnote 17: Opp., t. 6, p. 355. ] + +I must not close my review of the Catholic doctrine concerning the +Blessed Virgin without directly speaking of her intercessory power, +though I have incidentally made mention of it already. It is the +immediate result of two truths, neither of which you dispute: first, +that "it is good and useful," as the Council of Trent says, +"suppliantly to invoke the saints and to have recourse to their +prayers;" and secondly, that the Blessed Mary is singularly dear to +her Son and singularly exalted in sanctity and glory. However, at the +risk of becoming didactic, I will state somewhat more fully the +grounds on which it rests. + +To a candid pagan it must have been one of the most remarkable points +of Christianity, on its first appearance, that the observance of +prayer formed so vital a part of its organization; and that, though +its members were scattered all over the world, and its rulers and +subjects had so little opportunity of correlative action, yet they, +one and all, found the solace of a spiritual intercourse, and a real +bond of union, in the practice of mutual intercession. Prayer, indeed, +is the very essence of religion; but in the heathen religions it was +either public or personal; it was a state ordinance, or a selfish +expedient, for the attainment of certain tangible, temporal goods. +Very different from this was its exercise among Christians, who were +thereby knit together in one body, different as they were in races, +ranks, and habits, distant from each other in country, and helpless +amid hostile populations. Yet it proved sufficient for its purpose. +Christians could not correspond; they could not combine; but they +could pray one for another. Even their public prayers partook of this +character of intercession; for to pray for the welfare of the whole +church was really a prayer for all classes of men, and all the +individuals of which it was composed. It was in prayer that the church +was founded. For ten days all the apostles "persevered with one mind +in prayer and supplication, with the women, and Mary the Mother of +Jesus, and with his brethren." Then again at Pentecost "they were all +with one mind in one place;" and the converts then made are said to +have "persevered in prayer." And when, after a while, St. Peter was +seized and put in prison with a view to his being put to death, +"prayer was made without ceasing" by the church of God for him; and, +when the angel released him, he took refuge in a house "where many +were gathered together in prayer." + +{73} + +We are so accustomed to these passages as hardly to be able to do +justice to their singular significance; and they are followed up by +various passages of the apostolic epistles. St. Paul enjoins his +brethren to '"pray with all prayer and supplication at all times in +the Spirit, with all instance and supplication for all saints," to +"pray in every place," "to make supplication, prayers, intercessions, +giving of thanks for all men." And in his own person he "ceases not to +give thanks for them, commemorating them in his prayers," and "always +in all his prayers making supplication for them all with joy." + +Now, was this spiritual bond to cease with life? or had Christians +similar duties to their brethren departed? From the witness of the +early ages of the church, it appears that they had; and you, and those +who agree with you, would be the last to deny that they were then in +the practice of praying, as for the living, so for those also who had +passed into the intermediate state between earth and heaven. Did the +sacred communion extend further still, on to the inhabitants of heaven +itself? Here too you agree with us, for you have adopted in your +volume the words of the Council of Trent which I have quoted above. +But now we are brought to a higher order of thoughts. + +It would be preposterous to pray for those who are already in glory; +but at least they can pray for us, and we can ask their prayers, and +in the Apocalypse at least angels are introduced both sending us their +blessing and presenting our prayers before the divine Presence. We +read there of an angel who "came and stood before the altar, having a +golden censer;" and "there was given to him much incense, that he +should offer of the prayers of all saints upon the golden altar which +is before the throne of God." On this occasion, surely, the angel +Michael, as the prayer in mass considers him, performed the part of a +great intercessor or mediator above for the children of the church +militant below. Again, in the beginning of the same book, the sacred +writer goes so far as to speak of "grace and peace" being sent us, not +only from the Almighty, but "from the seven spirits that are before +his throne," thus associating the Eternal with the ministers of his +mercies; and this carries us on to the remarkable passage of St. +Justin, one of the earliest fathers, who, in his "Apology," says, "To +him (God), and his Son who came from him, and taught us these things, +and the host of the other good angels who follow and resemble them, +and the prophetic Spirit, we pay veneration and homage." Further, in +the Epistle to the Hebrews, St. Paul introduces, not only angels, but +"the spirits of the just" into the sacred communion: "Ye have come to +Mount Sion, to the heavenly Jerusalem, to myriads of angels, to God, +the Judge of all, to the spirits of the just made perfect, and to +Jesus, the Mediator of the New Testament." What can be meant by having +"come to the spirits of the just," unless in some way or other they do +us good, whether by blessing or by aiding us? that is, in a word, to +speak correctly, by praying for us; for it is by prayer alone that the +creature above can bless or aid the creature below. + +Intercession thus being the first principle of the church's life, next +it is certain again that the vital principle of that intercession, as +an availing power, is, according to the will of God, sanctity. This +seems to be suggested by a passage of St. Paul, in which the supreme +intercessor is said to be "the Spirit:" "The Spirit himself maketh +intercession for us; he maketh intercession for the saints according +to God." However, the truth thus implied is expressly brought out in +other parts of Scripture, in the form both of doctrine and of example. +The words of the man born blind speak the common sense of nature: "If +any man be a worshipper of God, him he heareth." {74} And apostles +confirm them: "The prayer of a just man availeth much," and "whatever +we ask we receive, because we keep his commandments." Then, as for +examples, we read of Abraham and Moses as having the divine purpose of +judgment revealed to them beforehand, in order that they might +deprecate its execution. To the friends of Job it was said, "My +servant Job shall pray for you; his face I will accept." Elias by his +prayer shut and opened the heavens. Elsewhere we read of "Jeremias, +Moses, and Samuel," and of "Noe, Daniel, and Job," as being great +mediators between God and his people. One instance is given us, which +testifies the continuance of so high an office beyond this life. +Lazarus, in the parable, is seen in Abraham's bosom. It is usual to +pass over this striking passage with the remark that it is a Jewish +expression; whereas, Jewish belief or not, it is recognized and +sanctioned by our Lord himself. What do we teach about the Blessed +Virgin more wonderful than this? Let us suppose that, at the hour of +death, the faithful are committed to her arms; but if Abraham, not yet +ascended on high, had charge of Lazarus, what offence is it to affirm +the like of her, who was not merely "the friend," but the very "Mother +of God?" + +It may be added that, though it availed nothing for influence with our +Lord to be one of his company if sanctity was wanting, still, as the +gospel shows, he on various occasions allowed those who were near him +to be the means by which supplicants were brought to him, or miracles +gained from him, as in the instance of the miracle of the loaves; and +if on one occasion he seems to repel his mother when she told him that +wine was wanting for the guests at the marriage feast, it is obvious +to remark on it that, by saying that she was then separated from him +_because_ his hour was not yet come, he implied that, when that hour +was come, such separation would be at an end. Moreover, in fact, he +did, at her intercession, work the miracle which she desired. + +I consider it impossible, then, for those who believe the church to be +one vast body in heaven and on earth, in which every holy creature of +God has his place, and of which prayer is the life, when once they +recognize the sanctity and greatness of the Blessed Virgin, not to +perceive immediately that her office above is one of perpetual +intercession for the faithful militant, and that our very relation to +her must be that of clients to a patron, and that, in the eternal +enmity which exists between the woman and the serpent, while the +serpent's strength is that of being the tempter, the weapon of the +second Eve and Mother of God is prayer. + +As then these ideas of her sanctity and greatness gradually penetrated +the mind of Christendom, so did her intercessory power follow close +upon and with them. From the earliest times that mediation is +symbolized in those representations of her with uplifted hands, which, +whether in plaster or in glass, are still extant in Rome--that +church, as St. Irenaeus says, with which "every church, that is, the +faithful from every side, must agree, because of its more powerful +principality;" "into which," as Tertullian adds, "the apostles poured +out, together with their blood, their whole doctrines." As far, +indeed, as existing documents are concerned, I know of no instance to +my purpose earlier than A.D. 234, but it is a very remarkable one; +and, though it has been often quoted in the controversy, an argument +is not the weaker for frequent use. + +St. Gregory Nyssen, [Footnote 18] a native of Cappadocia in the +fourth century, relates that his namesake, Bishop of Neo-Caesarea, +surnamed Thaumaturgus, in the century preceding, shortly before he was +called to the priesthood, received in a vision a creed, which is still +extant, from the Blessed Mary at the hands of St. John. + + [Footnote 18: _Vid_. "Essay on Doctr. Dev." p. 386.] + +{75} + +The account runs thus: He was deeply pondering theological doctrine, +which the heretics of the day depraved. "In such thoughts," says his +namesake of Nyssa, "he was passing the night, when one appeared, as if +in human form, aged in appearance, saintly in the fashion of his +garments, and very venerable both in grace of countenance and general +mien. Amazed at the sight, he started from his bed, and asked who it +was, and why he came; but, on the other calming the perturbation of +his mind with his gentle voice, and saying he had appeared to him by +divine command on account of his doubts, in order that the truth of +the orthodox faith might be revealed to him, he took courage at the +word, and regarded him with a mixture of joy and fright. Then, on his +stretching his hand straight forward and pointing with his fingers at +something on one side, he followed with his eyes the extended hand, +and saw another appearance opposite to the former, in the shape of a +woman, but more than human. . . . When his eyes could not, bear the +apparition, he heard them conversing together on the subject of his +doubts; and thereby not only gained a true knowledge of the faith, but +learned their names, as they addressed each other by their respective +appellations. And thus he is said to have heard the person in woman's +shape bid 'John the Evangelist' disclose to the young man the mystery +of godliness; and he answered that he was ready to comply in this +matter with the wish of 'the Mother of the Lord,' and enunciated a +formulary, well turned and complete, and so vanished. He, on the other +hand, immediately committed to writing that divine teaching of his +mystagogue, and henceforth preached in the church according to that +form, and bequeathed to posterity, as an inheritance, that heavenly +teaching, by means of which his people are instructed down to this +day, being preserved from all heretical evil." He proceeds to rehearse +the creed thus given, "There is one God, father of a living Word," +etc. Bull, after quoting it in his work upon the Nicene faith, alludes +to this history of its origin, and adds, "No one should think it +incredible that such a providence should befal a man whose whole life +was conspicuous for revelations and miracles, as all ecclesiastical +writers who have mentioned him (and who has not?) witness with one +voice." + +Here she is represented as rescuing a holy soul from intellectual +error. This leads me to a further reflection. You seem, in one place +in your volume, to object to the antiphon, in which it is said of her, +"All heresies thou hast destroyed alone." Surely the truth of it is +verified in this age, as in former times, and especially by the +doctrine concerning her on which I have been dwelling. She is the +great exemplar of prayer in a generation which emphatically denies the +power of prayer _in toto_, which determines that fatal laws govern the +universe, that there cannot be any direct communication between earth +and heaven, that God cannot visit his earth, and that man cannot +influence his providence. + + + +I cannot help hoping that your own reading of the fathers will on the +whole bear me out in the above account of their teaching concerning +the Blessed Virgin. Anglicans seem to me to overlook the strength of +the argument adducible from their works in our favor, and they open +the attack upon our mediaeval and modern writers, careless of leaving +a host of primitive opponents in their rear. I do not include you +among such Anglicans; you know what the fathers assert; but, if so, +have you not, my dear friend, been unjust to yourself in your recent +volume, and made far too much of the differences which exist between +Anglicans and us on this particular point? It is the office of an +Irenicon to smooth difficulties; I shall be pleased if I succeed in +removing some of yours. Let the public judge between us here. Had you +{76} happened in your volume to introduce your notice of our teaching +about the Blessed Virgin with a notice of the teaching of the fathers +concerning her, ordinary men would have considered that there was not +much to choose between you and us. Though you appealed ever so much to +the authority of the "undivided church," they certainly would have +said that you, who had such high notions of the Blessed Mary, were one +of the last men who had a right to accuse us of quasi-idolatry. When +they found you calling her by the titles of Mother of God, Second Eve, +and Mother of all Living, the Mother of life, the Morning Star, the +Stay of Believers, the Expression of Orthodoxy, the All-undefiled +Mother of Holiness, and the like, they would have deemed it a poor +compensation for such language that you protested against her being +called a co-redemptress or a priestess. And, if they were violent +Protestants, they would not have read you with that relish and +gratitude with which, as it is, they have perhaps accepted your +testimony against us. Not that they would have been altogether right +in their view of you;--on the contrary, I think there is a real +difference between what you protest against and what with the fathers +you hold; but unread men and men of the world form a broad practical +judgment of the things which come before them, and they would have +felt in this case that they had the same right to be shocked at you as +you have to be shocked at us;--and further, which is the point to +which I am coming, they would have said that, granting some of our +modern writers go beyond the fathers in this matter, still the line +cannot be logically drawn between the teaching of the fathers +concerning the Blessed Virgin and our own. This view of the matter +seems to me true and important; I do not think the line _can_ be +satisfactorily drawn, and to this point I shall now direct my +attention. It is impossible, I say, in a doctrine like this, to draw +the line cleanly between truth and error, right and wrong. This is +ever the case in concrete matters, which have life. Life in this world +is motion, and involves a continual process of change. Living things +grow into their perfection, into their decline, into their death. No +rule of art will suffice to stop the operation of this natural law, +whether in the material world or in the human mind. We can indeed +encounter disorders, when they occur, by external antagonisms and +remedies; but we cannot eradicate the process itself out of which they +arise. Life has the same right to decay as it has to wax strong. This +is specially the case with great ideas. You may stifle them; or you +may refuse them elbow-room; or you may torment them with your +continual meddling; or you may let them have free course and range, +and be content, instead of anticipating their excesses, to expose and +restrain those excesses after they have occurred. But you have only +this alternative; and for myself, I prefer much, wherever it is +possible, to be first generous and then just; to grant full liberty of +thought, and to call it to account when abused. + +If what I have been saying be true of energetic ideas generally, much +more is it the case in matters of religion. Religion acts on the +affections; who is to hinder these, when once roused, from gathering +in their strength and running wild? They are not gifted with any +connatural principle within them which renders them self-governing and +self-adjusting. They hurry right on to their object, and often in +their case it is, more haste and worse speed. Their object engrosses +them, and they see nothing else. And of all passions love is the most +unmanageable; nay, more, I would not give much for that love which is +never extravagant, which always observes the proprieties, and can move +about in perfect good taste, under all emergencies. What mother, what +husband or wife, what youth or maiden in love, {77} but says a +thousand foolish things, in the way of endearment, which the speaker +would be sorry for strangers to hear; yet they were not on that +account unwelcome to the parties to whom they are addressed. Sometimes +by bad luck they are written down, sometimes they get into the +newspapers; and what might be even graceful, when it was fresh from +the heart, and interpreted by the voice and the countenance, presents +but a melancholy exhibition when served up cold for the public eye. So +it is with devotional feelings. Burning thoughts and words are as open +to criticism as they are beyond it. What is abstractedly extravagant, +may in religions persons be becoming and beautiful, and only fall +under blame when it is found in others who imitate them. When it is +formalized into meditations or exercises, it is as repulsive as +love-letters in a police report. Moreover, even holy minds readily +adopt and become familiar with language which they would never have +originated themselves, when it proceeds from a writer who has the same +objects of devotion as they have; and, if they find a stranger +ridicule or reprobate supplication or praise which has come to them so +recommended, they feel as keenly as if a direct insult were offered to +those to whom that homage is addressed. In the next place, what has +power to stir holy and refined souls is potent also with the +multitude; and the religion of the multitude is ever vulgar and +abnormal; it ever will be tinctured with fanaticism and superstition +while men are what they are. A people's religion is ever a corrupt +religion. If you are to have a Catholic Church, you must put up with +fish of every kind, guests good and bad, vessels of gold, vessels of +earth. You may beat religion out of men, if you will, and then their +excesses will take a different direction; but if you make use of +religion to improve them, they will make use of religion to corrupt +it. And then you will have effected that compromise of which our +countrymen report so unfavorably from abroad:--a high grand faith and +worship which compel their admiration, and puerile absurdities among +the people which excite their contempt. + +Nor is it any safeguard against these excesses in a religious system +that the religion is based upon reason, and develops into a theology. +Theology both uses logic and baffles it; and thus logic acts both as a +protection and as the perversion of religion. Theology is occupied +with supernatural matters, and is ever running into mysteries which +reason can neither explain nor adjust. Its lines of thought come to an +abrupt termination, and to pursue them or to complete them is to +plunge down the abyss. But logic blunders on, forcing its way, as it +can, through thick darkness and ethereal mediums. The Arians went +ahead with logic for their directing principle, and so lost the truth; +on the other hand, St. Augustine, in his treatise on the Holy Trinity, +seems to show that, if we attempt to find and tie together the ends of +lines which run into infinity, we shall only succeed in contradicting +ourselves; that for instance it is difficult to find the logical +reason for not speaking of three Gods as well as of one, and of one +person in the Godhead as well as of three. I do not mean to say that +logic cannot be used to set right its own error, or that in the hands +of an able disputant the balance of truth may not be restored. This +was done at the Councils of Antioch and Nicaea, in the instances of +Paulus and Arius. But such a process is circuitous and elaborate; and +is conducted by means of minute subtleties which will give it the +appearance of a game of skill in the case of matters too grave and +practical to deserve a mere scholastic treatment. Accordingly, St. +Augustine simply lays it down that the statements in question are +heretical, for the former is trltheism and the latter Sabellianism. +That is, good sense and a large {78} view of truth are the correctives +of his logic. And thus we have arrived at the final resolution of the +whole matter; for good sense and a large view of truth are rare gifts; +whereas all men are bound to be devout, and most men think they can +argue and conclude. + +Now let me apply what I have been saying to the teaching of the church +on the subject of the Blessed Virgin. I have to recur to a subject of +so sacred a nature, that, writing as I am for publication, I need the +apology of my object for venturing to pursue it. I say then, when once +we have mastered the idea that Mary bore, suckled, and handled the +Eternal in the form of a child, what limit is conceivable to the rush +and flood of thoughts which such a doctrine involves? What awe and +surprise must attend upon the knowledge that a creature has been +brought so close to the Divine Essence? It was the creation of a new +idea and a new sympathy, a new faith and worship, when the holy +apostles announced that God bad become incarnate; and a supreme love +and devotion to him became possible which seemed hopeless before that +revelation. But beside this, a second range of thoughts was opened on +mankind, unknown before, and unlike any other, as soon as it was +understood that that incarnate God had a mother. The second idea is +perfectly distinct from the former, the one does not interfere with +the other. He is God made low, she is a woman made high. I scarcely +like to use a familiar illustration on such a subject, but it will +serve to explain what I mean when I ask you to consider the difference +of feeling with which we read the respective histories of Maria +Theresa and the Maid of Orleans; or with which the middle and lower +classes of a nation regard a first minister of the day who has come of +an aristocratic house and one who has risen from the ranks. May God's +mercy keep me from the shadow of a thought dimming the light or +blunting the keenness of that love of him which is our sole happiness +and our sole salvation! But surely, when he became man he brought home +to us his incommunicable attributes with a distinctiveness which +precludes the possibility of our lowering him by exalting a creature. +He alone has an entrance into our soul, reads our secret thoughts, +speaks to our heart, applies to us spiritual pardon and strength. On +him we solely depend. He alone is our inward life; he not only +regenerates us, but (to allude to a higher mystery) _semper gignit;_ +he is ever renewing our new birth and our heavenly sonship. In this +sense he may be called, as in nature, so in grace, our real father. +Mary is only our adopted mother, given us from the cross; her presence +is above, not on earth; her office is external, not within us. Her +name is not heard in the administration of the sacraments. Her work is +not one of ministration toward us; her power is indirect. It is her +prayers that avail, and they are effectual by the _fiat_ of him who is +our all in all. Nor does she hear us by any innate power, or any +personal gift; but by his manifestation to her of the prayers which we +make her. When Moses was on the Mount, the Almighty told him of the +idolatry of his people at the foot of it, in order that he might +intercede for them; and thus it is the Divine presence which is the +intermediating power by which we reach her and she reaches us. + +Woe is me, if even by a breath I sully these ineffable truths! but +still, without prejudice to them, there is, I say, another range of +thought quite distinct from them, incommensurate with them, of which +the Blessed Virgin is the centre. If we placed our Lord in that +centre, we should only be degrading him from his throne, and making +him an Arian kind of a God; that is, no God at all. He who charges us +with marking Mary a divinity, is thereby denying the divinity of +Jesus. Such a man does not know what divinity is. Our Lord cannot {79} +pray for us, as a creature, as Mary prays; he cannot inspire those +feelings which a creature inspires. To her belongs, as being a +creature, a natural claim on our sympathy and familiarity, in that she +is nothing else than our fellow. She is our pride,--in the poet's +words, "Our tainted nature's solitary boast." We look to her without +any fear, any remorse, any consciousness that she is able to read us, +judge us, punish us. Our heart yearns toward that pure virgin, that +gentle mother, and our congratulations follow her, as she rises from +Nazareth and Ephesus, through the choirs of angels, to her throne on +high. So weak, yet so strong; so delicate, yet so glory-laden; so +modest, yet so mighty. She has sketched for us her own portrait in the +magnificat. "He hath regarded the low estate of his handmaid; for +behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. He hath +put down the mighty from their seat; and hath exalted the humble. He +hath filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he hath sent +empty away." I recollect the strange emotion which took by surprise +men and women, young and old, when, at the coronation of our present +queen, they gazed on the figure of one so like a child, so small, so +tender, so shrinking, who had been exalted to so great an inheritance +and so vast a rule, who was such a contrast in her own person to the +solemn pageant which centred in her. Could it be otherwise with the +spectators, if they had human affection? And did not the All-wise know +the human heart when he took to himself a mother? did he not +anticipate our emotion at the sight of such an exaltation? If he had +not meant her to exert that wonderful influence in his church which +she has in the event exerted, I will use a bold word, he it is who has +perverted us. If she is not to attract our homage, why did he make her +solitary in her greatness amid his vast creation? If it be idolatry in +us to let our affections respond to our faith, he would not have made +her what she is, or he would not have told us that he had so made her; +but, far from this, he has sent his prophet to announce to us, "A +virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name +Emmanuel," and we have the same warrant for hailing her as God's +Mother, as we have for adoring him as God. + +Christianity is eminently an objective religion. For the most part it +tells us of persons and facts in simple words, and leaves the +announcement to produce its effect on such hearts as are prepared to +receive it. This at least is its general character; and Butler +recognizes it as such in his "Analogy" when speaking of the Second and +Third Persons of the Holy Trinity: "The internal worship," he says, +"to the Son and Holy Ghost is no further matter of pure revealed +command than as the relations they stand in to us are matters of pure +revelation; for the relations being known, the obligations to such +internal worship are _obligations of reason arising out of those +relations themselves_." [Footnote 19] + + [Footnote 19: _Vid_. "Essay on Doctr. Dev.," p. 50.] + +It is in this way that the revealed doctrine of the incarnation +exerted a stronger and a broader influence on Christians, as they more +and more apprehended and mastered its meaning and its bearings. It is +contained in the brief and simple declaration of St John, "The Word +was made flesh;" but it required century after century to spread it +out in its fulness and to imprint it energetically on the worship and +practice of the Catholic people as well as on their faith. Athanasius +was the first and the great teacher of it. He collected together the +inspired notices scattered through David, Isaias, St. Paul, and St. +John, and he engraved indelibly upon the imaginations of the faithful, +as had never been before, that man is God, and God is man, that in +Mary they meet, and that in this sense Mary {80} is the centre of all +things. He added nothing to what was known before, nothing to the +popular and zealous faith that her Son was God; he has left behind him +in his works no such definite passages about her as those of St. +Irenaeus or St. Epiphanius; but he brought the circumstances of the +incarnation home to men's minds by the manifold evolutions of his +analysis, and secured it for ever from perversion. Still, however, +there was much to be done; we have no proof that Athanasius himself +had any special devotion to the Blessed Virgin; but he laid the +foundations on which that devotion was to rest, and thus noiselessly +and without strife, as the first temple in the holy city, she grew up +into her inheritance, and was "established in Sion and her power was +in Jerusalem." Such was the origin of that august _cultus_ which has +been paid to the Blessed Mary for so many centuries in the East and in +the West. That in times and places it has fallen into abuse, that it +has even become a superstition, I do not care to deny; for, as I have +said above, the same process which brings to maturity carries on to +decay, and things that do not admit of abuse have very little life in +them. This of course does not excuse such excesses, or justify us in +making light of them, when they occur. I have no intention of doing so +as regards the particular instances which you bring against us, though +but a few words will suffice for what I need say about them:--before +doing so, however, I am obliged to make three or four introductory +remarks. + +1. I have almost anticipated my first remark already. It is this: that +the height of our offending in our devotion to the Blessed Virgin +would not look so great in your volume as it does, had you not placed +yourself on lower ground than your own feelings toward her would have +spontaneously prompted you to take. I have no doubt you had some good +reason for adopting this course, but I do not know it. What I do know +is that, for the fathers' sake, who so exalt her, you really do love +and venerate her, though you do not evidence it in your book. I am +glad, then, in this place, to insist on a fact which will lead those +among us who know you not to love you from their love of her, in spite +of what you refuse to give her; and Anglicans, on the other hand, who +do know you, to think better of us, who refuse her nothing, when they +reflect that you do not actually go against us, but merely come short +of us in your devotion to her. + +2. As you revere the fathers, so you revere the Greek Church; and here +again we have a witness on our behalf of which you must be aware as +fully as we are, and of which you must really mean to give us the +benefit. In proportion as this remarkable fact is understood, it will +take off the edge of the surprise of Anglicans at the sight of our +devotions to our Lady. It must weigh with them when they discover that +we can enlist on our side in this controversy those seventy millions +(I think they so consider them) of Orientals who are separated from +our communion. Is it not a very pregnant fact that the Eastern +churches, so independent of us, so long separated from the West, so +jealous of antiquity, should even surpass us in their exaltation of +the Blessed Virgin? That they go further than we do is sometimes +denied, on the ground that the Western devotion toward her is brought +out into system, and the Eastern is not; yet this only means really +that the Latins have more mental activity, more strength of intellect, +less of routine, less of mechanical worship among them, than the +Greeks. We are able, better than they, to give an account of what we +do; and we seem to be more extreme merely because we are more +definite. But, after all, what have the Latins done so bold as that +substitution of the name of Mary for the name of Jesus at the end of +the collects and petitions in the breviary, nay, in the ritual and +liturgy? Not {81} merely in local or popular, and in semi-authorized +devotions, which are the kind of sources that supplies you with your +matter of accusation against us, but in the formal prayers of the +Greek eucharistic service, petitions are offered, not "in the name of +Jesus Christ," but "of the Theotocos." Such a phenomenon, in such a +quarter, I think, ought to make Anglicans merciful toward those +writers among ourselves who have been excessive in singing the praises +of the Deipara. To make a rule of substituting Mary with all saints +for Jesus in the public service, has more "Mariolatry" in it than to +alter the Te Deum to her honor in private devotion. + +3. And thus I am brought to a third remark supplemental to your +accusation of us. Two large views, as I have said above, are opened +upon our devotional thoughts in Christianity; the one centring in the +Son of Mary, the other in the Mother of Jesus. Neither need obscure +the other; and in the Catholic Church, as a matter of fact, neither +does. I wish you had either frankly allowed this in your volume, or +proved the contrary. I wish, when you report that "a certain +proportion, it has been ascertained by those who have inquired, do +stop short in her," p. 107, that you had added your belief, that the +case was far otherwise with the great bulk of Catholics. Might I not +have expected it? May I not, without sensitiveness, be somewhat pained +at the omission? From mere Protestants, indeed, I expect nothing +better. They content themselves with saying that our devotions to our +Lady _must necessarily_ throw our Lord into the shade, and thereby +they relieve themselves of a great deal of trouble. Then they catch at +any stray fact which countenances or seems to countenance their +prejudice. Now I say plainly I never will defend or screen any one +from your just rebuke who, through false devotion to Mary, forgets +Jesus. But I should like the fact to be proved first; I cannot hastily +admit it. There is this broad fact the other way: that if we look +through Europe we shall find, on the whole, that just those nations +and countries have lost their faith in the divinity of Christ who have +given up devotion to his Mother, and that those, on the other hand, +who have been foremost in her honor, have retained their orthodoxy. +Contrast, for instance, the Calvinists with the Greeks, or France with +the north of Germany, or the Protestant and Catholic communions in +Ireland. As to England, it is scarcely doubtful what would be the +state of its Established Church if the Liturgy and Articles were not +an integral part of its establishment; and when men bring so grave a +charge against us as is implied in your volume, they cannot be +surprised if we in turn say hard things of Anglicanism. [Footnote 20] +In the Catholic Church Mary has shown herself, not the rival, but the +minister of her Son. She has protected him, as in his infancy, so in +the whole history of the religion. There is, then, a plain historical +truth in Dr. Fisher's words which you quote to condemn: "Jesus is +obscured, because Mary is kept in the background." + + [Footnote 20: I have spoken more more on this subject in my "Essay + on Development," p. 438. "Nor does it avail to object, that, in this + contrast of devotional exercises, the human is sure to supplant the + divine, from the infirmity of out nature; for, I repeat, the + question is one of fact, whether it has done so. And next, it must + be asked, _whether the character of Protestant devotion toward our + Lord has been that of worship at all:_ and not rather such as we pay + to an excellent human being? . . . Carnal minds will ever create a + carnal worship for themselves; and to forbid them the service of the + saints will have no tendency to teach them the worship of God. + Moreover. . . . great and constant as is the devotion which the + Catholic pays to St. Mary, it has a special province, and _has far + more connection with the public services and the festive aspect of + Christianity,_ and with certain extraordinary offices which she + holds, _than with what is strictly personal and primary_ in + religion." Our late cardinal, on my reception, singled out to me + this last sentence for the expression of his especial approbation.] + +This truth, exemplified in history, might also be abundantly +illustrated, did my space admit, from the lives and writings of holy +men in modern times. Two of them, St. Alfonso Liguori and the Blessed +Paul of the Cross, for all their notorious devotion {82} to the +Mother, have shown their supreme love of her divine Son in the names +which a have given to their respective congregations, viz, "of the +Redeemer," and "of the Cross and Passion." However, I will do no more +than refer to an apposite passage in the Italian translation of the +work of a French Jesuit, Fr. Nepveu, "Christian Thoughts for every Day +in the Year," which was recommended to the friend who went with me to +Rome by the same Jesuit father there with whom, as I have already +said, I stood myself in such intimate relations; I believe it is a +fair specimen of the teaching of our spiritual books: + + "The love of Jesus Christ is the most sure pledge of our future + happiness, and the most infallible token of our predestination. + Mercy toward the poor, devotion to the Holy Virgin, are very + sensible tokens of predestination; nevertheless they are not + absolutely infallible; but one cannot have a sincere and constant + love of Jesus Christ without being predestinated. . . . The + destroying angel which bereaved the houses of the Egyptians of their + first-born, had respect to all the houses which were marked with the + blood of the Lamb." + +And it is also exemplified, as I verily believe, not only in formal +and distinctive confessions, not only in books intended for the +educated class, but also in the personal religion of the Catholic +populations. When strangers are so unfavorably impressed with us, +because they see images of our Lady in our churches, and crowds +flocking about her, they forget that there is a Presence within the +sacred walls, infinitely more awful, which claims and obtains from us +a worship transcendently different from any devotion we pay to her. +That devotion might indeed tend to idolatry if it were encouraged in +Protestant churches, where there is nothing higher than it to attract +the worshipper; but all the images that a Catholic church ever +contained, all the crucifixes at its altars brought together, do not +so affect its frequenters as the lamp which betokens the presence or +absence there of the blessed sacrament. Is not this so certain, so +notorious, that on some occasions it has been even brought as a charge +against us, that we are irreverent in church, when what seemed to the +objector to be irreverence was but the necessary change of feeling +which came over those who were there on their knowing that their Lord +was away? + +The mass again conveys to us the same lesson of the sovereignty of the +incarnate Son; it is a return to Calvary, and Mary is scarcely named +in it. Hostile visitors enter our churches on Sunday at mid-day, the +time of the Anglican service. They are surprised to see the high mass +perhaps poorly attended, and a body of worshippers leaving the music +and the mixed multitude who may be lazily fulfilling their obligation, +for the silent or the informal devotions which are offered at an image +of the Blessed Virgin. They may be tempted, with one of your +informants, to call such a temple not a "Jesus Church," but a "Mary +Church." But, if they understood our ways, they would know that we +begin the day with our Lord and then go on to his mother. It is early +in the morning that religious persons go to mass and communion. The +high mass, on the other hand, is the festive celebration of the day, +not the special devotional service; nor is there any reason why those +who have been at a low mass already, should not at that hour proceed +to ask the intercession of the Blessed Virgin for themselves and all +that is dear to them. + +Communion, again, which is given in the morning, is a solemn, +unequivocal act of faith in the incarnate God, if any can be such; and +the most gracious of admonitions, did we need one, of his sovereign +and sole right to possess us. I knew a lady who on her death-bed was +visited by an excellent Protestant friend. She, with great tenderness +for her soul's welfare, asked her whether her prayers to the {83} +Blessed Virgin did not, at that awful hour, lead to forgetfulness of +her Saviour. "Forget him!" she replied with surprise; "why, he has +just been here." She had been receiving him in communion. When, then, +my dear Pusey, you read anything extravagant in praise of our Lady, is +it not charitable to ask, even while you condemn it in itself, did the +author write nothing else? Did he write on the blessed sacrament? Had +he given up "all for Jesus?" I recollect some lines, the happiest, I +think, which that author wrote, which bring out strikingly the +reciprocity, which I am dwelling on, of the respective devotions to +Mother and Son: + + "But scornful men have coldly said + Thy love was leading me from God; + And yet in this I did but tread + The very path my Savior trod. + + "They know but little of thy worth + Who speak these heartless words to me; + For what did Jesus love on earth + One half so tenderly as thee? + + "Get me the grace to love thee more; + Jesus will give, if thou wilt plead; + And, Mother, when life's cares are o'er, + Oh, I shall love thee then indeed. + + "Jesus, when his three hours were run, + Bequeathed thee from the cross to me; + And oh I how can I love thy Son, + Sweet Mother, if I love not thee?" + +4. Thus we are brought from the consideration of the sentiments +themselves, of which you complain, to the persons who wrote, and the +places where they wrote them. I wish you had been led, in this part of +your work, to that sort of careful labor which you have employed in so +masterly a way in your investigation of the circumstances of the +definition of the immaculate conception. In the latter case you have +catalogued the bishops who wrote to the Holy See, and analyzed their +answers. Had you in like manner discriminated and located the Marian +writers, as you call them, and observed the times, places, and +circumstances of their works, I think they would not, when brought +together, have had their present startling effect on the reader. As it +is, they inflict a vague alarm upon the mind, as when one hears a +noise, and does not know whence it comes and what it means. Some of +your authors, I know, are saints; all, I suppose, are spiritual +writers and holy men; but the majority are of no great celebrity, even +if they have any kind of weight. Suarez has no business among them at +all, for, when he says that no one is saved without the Blessed +Virgin, he is speaking not of devotion to her, but of her +intercession. The greatest name is St. Alfonso Liguori; but it never +surprises me to read anything unusual in the devotions of a saint. +Such men are on a level very different from our own, and we cannot +understand them. I hold this to be an important canon in the lives of +the saints, according to the words of the apostle, "The spiritual man +judges all things, and he himself is judged of no one." But we may +refrain from judging, without proceeding to imitate. I hope it is not +disrespectful to so great a servant of God to say, that I never read +his "Glories of Mary;" but here I am speaking generally of all saints, +whether I know them or not; and I say that they are beyond us, and +that we must use them as patterns, not as copies. As to his practical +directions, St. Alfonso wrote them for Neapolitans, whom he knew, and +we do not know. Other writers whom you quote, as De Salazar, are too +ruthlessly logical to be safe or pleasant guides in the delicate +matters of devotion. As to De Montford and Oswald, I never even met +with their names, till I saw them in your book; the bulk of our laity, +not to say of our clergy, perhaps know them little better than I do. +Nor did I know till I learnt it from your volume that there were two +Bernardines. St. Bernardine, of Sienna, I knew of course, and knew too +that he had a burning love for our Lord. But about the other, +"Bernardine de Bustis," I was quite at fault. I find from the +Protestant Cave that he, as well as his name-sake, made himself +conspicuous also for his zeal for the holy name, {84} which is much to +the point here. "With such devotion was he carried away," says Cave, +"for the bare name of Jesus (which, by a new device of Bernardine, of +Sienna, had lately began to receive divine honors), that he was urgent +with Innocent VIII. to assign it a day and rite in the calendar." + +One thing, however, is clear about all these writers; that not one of +them is an Englishman. I have gone through your book, and do not find +one English name among the various authors to whom you refer, except, +of course, the name of that author whose lines I have been quoting, +and who, great as are his merits, cannot, for the reasons I have given +in the opening of my letter, be considered a representative of English +Catholic devotion. Whatever these writers may have said or not said, +whatever they may have said harshly, and whatever capable of fair +explanation, still they are foreigners; we are not answerable for +their particular devotions; and as to themselves, I am glad to be able +to quote the beautiful words which you use about them in your letter +to the "Weekly Register" of November 25th last. "I do not presume," +you say, "to prescribe to Italians or Spaniards what they shall hold, +or how they shall express their pious opinions; and least of all did I +think of imputing to any of the writers whom I quoted that they took +from our Lord any of the love which they gave to his Mother." In these +last words, too, you have supplied one of the omissions in your volume +which I noticed above. + +5. Now, then, we come to England itself, which after all, in the +matter of devotion, alone concerns you and me; for though doctrine is +one and the same everywhere, devotions, as I have already said, are +matters of the particular time and the particular country. I suppose +we owe it to the national good sense that English Catholics have been +protected from the extravagances which are elsewhere to be found. And +we owe it, also, to the wisdom and moderation of the Holy See, which +in giving us the pattern for our devotion, as well as the rule of our +faith, has never indulged in those curiosities of thought which are +both so attractive to undisciplined imaginations and so dangerous to +grovelling hearts. In the case of our own common people I think such a +forced style of devotion would be simply unintelligible; as to the +educated, I doubt whether it can have more than an occasional or +temporary influence. If the Catholic faith spreads in England, these +peculiarities will not spread with it. There is a healthy devotion to +the Blessed Mary, and there is an artificial; it is possible to love +her as a Mother, to honor her as a Virgin, to seek her as a Patron, +and to exalt her as a Queen, without any injury to solid piety and +Christian good sense: I cannot help calling this the English style. I +wonder whether you find anything to displease you in the "Garden of +the Soul," the "Key of Heaven," the "Vade Mecum," the "Golden Manual," +or the "Crown of Jesus?" These are the books to which Anglicans ought +to appeal who would be fair to us in this matter. I do not observe +anything in them which goes beyond the teaching of the fathers, except +so far as devotion goes beyond doctrine. + +There is one collection of devotions, beside, of the highest +authority, which has been introduced from abroad of late years. It +consists of prayers of various kinds which have been indulgenced by +the popes; and it commonly goes by the name of the "Raccolta." As that +word suggests, the language of many of the prayers is Italian, while +others are in Latin. This circumstance is unfavorable to a +translation, which, however skilful, must ever savor of the words and +idioms of the original; but, passing over this necessary disadvantage, +I consider there is hardly a clause in the good-sized volume in +question which even the sensitiveness of English Catholicism would +wish changed. Its anxious observance of doctrinal exactness is almost +a fault. {85} It seems afraid of using the words "give me," "make me," +in its addresses to the Blessed Virgin, which are as natural to adopt +as in addressing a parent or friend. Surely we do not disparage divine +Providence when we say that we are indebted to our parents for our +life, or when we ask their blessing; we do not show any atheistical +leanings because we say that a man's recovery must be left to nature, +or that nature supplies brute animals with instincts. In like manner +it seems to me a simple purism to insist upon minute accuracy of +expression in devotional and popular writings. However, the +"Raccolta," as coming from responsible authority, for the most part +observes it. It commonly uses the phrases, "gain for us by thy +prayers," "obtain for us," "pray to Jesus for me," "speak for me, +Mary," "carry thou our prayers," "ask for us grace," "intercede for +the people of God," and the like, marking thereby with great emphasis +that she is nothing more than an advocate, and not a source of mercy. +Nor do I recollect in this book more than one or two ideas to which +you would be likely to raise an objection. The strongest of these is +found in the novena before her nativity, in which, _apropos_ of her +birth, we pray that she "would come down again and be re-born +spiritually in our souls;" but it will occur to you that St. Paul +speaks of his wish to impart to his converts, '"not only the gospel, +but his own soul;" and writing to the Corinthians, he says he has +"begotten them by the gospel," and to Philemon, that he had "begotten +Onesimus in his bonds;" whereas St. James, with greater accuracy of +expression, says "of his own will hath God begotten us with the word +of truth." Again we find the petitioner saying to the Blessed Mary, +"In thee I place all my hope;" but this is explained in another +passage, "Thou art my best hope after Jesus." Again, we read +elsewhere, "I would I had a greater love for thee, since to love thee +is a great mark of predestination;" but the prayer goes on, "Thy Son +deserves of us an immeasurable love; pray that I may have this grace +--a great love for Jesus;" and further on, "I covet no good of the +earth, but to love my God alone." + +Then, again, as to the lessons which our Catholics receive, whether by +catechizing or instruction, you would find nothing in our received +manuals to which you would not assent, I am quite sure. Again, as to +preaching, a standard book was drawn up three centuries ago, to supply +matter for the purpose to the parochial clergy. You incidentally +mention, p. 153, that the comment of Cornelius à Lapide on Scripture +is "a repertorium for sermons;" but I never heard of this work being +used, nor indeed can it, because of its size. The work provided for +the purpose by the church is the "Catechism of the Council of Trent," +and nothing extreme about our Blessed Lady is propounded there. On the +whole, I am sanguine that you will come to the conclusion that +Anglicans may safely trust themselves to us English Catholics as +regards any devotions to the Blessed Virgin which might be required of +them, over and above the rule of the Council of Trent. + +6. And, now at length coming to the statements, not English, but +foreign, which offend you in works written in her honor, I will +frankly say that I read some of those which you quote with grief and +almost anger; for they seemed to me to ascribe to the Blessed Virgin a +power of "searching the reins and hearts" which is the attribute of +God alone; and I said to myself, how can we any more prove our Lord's +divinity from Scripture, if those cardinal passages which invest him +with divine prerogatives after all invest him with nothing beyond what +his Mother shares with him? And how, again, is there anything of +incommunicable greatness in his death and passion, if he who was alone +in the garden, alone upon the cross, alone in the resurrection, after +{86} all is not alone, but shared his solitary work with his Blessed +Mother--with her to whom, when he entered on his ministry, he said for +our instruction, not as grudging her her proper glory, "Woman, what +have I to do with thee?" And then again, if I hate those perverse +sayings so much, how much more must she, in proportion to her love of +him? And how do we show our love for her, by wounding her in the very +apple of her eye? This I said and say; but then, on the other hand, I +have to observe that these strange words after all are but few in +number, out of the many passages you cite; that most of them exemplify +what I said above about the difficulty of determining the exact point +where truth passes into error, and that they are allowable in one +sense or connection, and false in another. Thus to say that prayer +(and the Blessed Virgin's prayer) is omnipotent, is a harsh expression +in everyday prose; but, if it is explained to mean that there is +nothing which prayer may not obtain from God, it is nothing else than +the very promise made us in Scripture. Again, to say that Mary is the +centre of all being, sounds inflated and profane; yet after all it is +only one way, and a natural way, of saying that the Creator and the +creature met together, and became one in her womb; and as such, I have +used the expression above. Again, it is at first sight a paradox to +say that "Jesus is obscured, because Mary is kept in the background;" +yet there is a sense, as I have shown above, in which it is a simple +truth. + +And so again certain statements may be true, under circumstances and +in a particular time and place, which are abstractedly false; and +hence it may be very unfair in a controversialist to interpret by an +English or a modern rule whatever may have been asserted by a foreign +or mediaeval author. To say, for instance, dogmatically, that no one +can be saved without personal devotion to the Blessed Virgin, would be +an untenable proposition: yet it might be true of this man or that, or +of this or that country at this or that date; and if the very +statement has ever been made by any writer of consideration (and this +has to be ascertained), then perhaps it was made precisely under these +exceptional circumstances. If an Italian preacher made it, I should +feel no disposition to doubt him, at least as regards Italian youths +and Italian maidens. + +Then I think you have not always made your quotations with that +consideration and kindness which is your rule. At p. 106 you say, "It +is commonly said, that if any Roman Catholic acknowledges that 'it is +good and useful to pray to the saints,' he is not bound himself to do +so. Were the above teaching true, it would be cruelty to say so; +because, according to it, he would be forfeiting what is morally +necessary to his salvation." But now, as to the fact, where is it said +that to pray to our Lady and the saints is necessary to salvation? The +proposition of St. Alfonso is, that "God gives no grace except through +Mary;" that is, through her intercession. But intercession is one +thing, devotion is another. And Suarez says, "It is the universal +sentiment that the intercession of Mary is not only useful, but also +in a certain manner necessary;" but still it is the question of her +intercession, not of our invocation of her, not of devotion to her. If +it were so, no Protestant could be saved; if it were so, there would +be grave reasons for doubting of the salvation of St. Chrysostom or +St. Athanasius, or of the primitive martyrs; nay, I should like to +know whether St. Augustine, in all his voluminous writings, invokes +her once. Our Lord died for those heathens who did not know him; and +his mother intercedes for those Christians who do not know her; and +she intercedes according to his will, and, when he wills to save a +particular soul, she at once prays for it. {87} I say, he wills indeed +according to her prayer, but then she prays according, to his will. +Though then it is natural and prudent for those to have recourse to +her who, from the church's teaching, know her power, yet it cannot be +said that devotion to her is a _sine quâ non_ of salvation. Some +indeed of the authors whom you quote go further; they do speak of +devotion; but even then they do not enunciate the general proposition +which I have been disallowing. For instance, they say, "It is morally +impossible for those to be saved who _neglect_ the devotion to the +Blessed Virgin;" but a simple omission is one thing, and neglect +another. "It is impossible for any to be saved who _turns away_ from +her;" yes; but to "turn away" is to offer some positive disrespect or +insult toward her, and that with sufficient knowledge; and I certainly +think it would be a very grave act if, in a Catholic country (and of +such the writers were speaking, for they knew of no other), with +ave-marias sounding in the air, and images of the Madonna at every +street and road, a Catholic broke off or gave up a practice that was +universal, and in which he was brought up, and deliberately put her +name out of his thoughts. + +7. Though, then, common sense may determine for us that the line of +prudence and propriety has been certainly passed in the instance of +certain statements about the Blessed Virgin, it is often not easy to +prove the point logically; and in such cases authority, if it attempt +to act, would be in the position which so often happens in our courts +of law, when the commission of an offence is morally certain, but the +government prosecutor cannot find legal evidence sufficient to insure +conviction. I am not denying the right of sacred congregations, at +their will, to act peremptorily, and without assigning reasons for the +judgment they pass upon writers; but, when they have found it +inexpedient to take this severe course, perhaps it may happen from the +circumstances of the case that there is no other that they can take, +even if they would. It is wiser then for the most part to leave these +excesses to the gradual operation of public opinion--that is, to the +opinion of educated and sober Catholics; and this seems to me the +healthiest way of putting them down. Yet in matter of fact I believe +the Holy See has interfered from time to time, when devotion seemed +running into superstition; and not so long ago. I recollect hearing in +Gregory the XVI.'s time of books about the Blessed Virgin which had +been suppressed by authority; and in particular of a representation of +the immaculate conception which he had forbidden, and of measures +taken against the shocking notion that the Blessed Mary is present in +the holy eucharist in the sense in which our Lord is present; but I +have no means of verifying the information I received. + +Nor have I time, any more than you have had, to ascertain how far +great theologians have made protests against those various +extravagances of which you so rightly complain. Passages, however, +from three well-known Jesuit fathers have opportunely come in my way, +and in one of them is introduced, in confirmation, the name of the +great Gerson. They are Canisius, Petavius, and Raynaudus; and as they +speak very appositely, and you do not seem to know them, I will here +make some extracts from them: + +(1.) Canisius: + + "We confess that in the _cultus_ of Mary it has been and is possible + for corruptions to creep in; and we have a more than ordinary desire + that the pastors of the Church should be carefully vigilant here, + and give no place to Satan, whose characteristic office it has ever + been, while men sleep, to sow the cockle amid the Lord's wheat. . . + . For this purpose it is his wont gladly to avail himself of the aid + of heretics, fanatics, and false Catholics, as may be seen in the + instance of this _Marianus cultus_. This _cultus_, heretics, + suborned by Satan, attack with hostility Thus, too, certain mad + heads are so {88} demented by Satan, as to embrace superstitions and + idolatries instead of the true _cultus_ and neglect altogether the + due measures whether in respect to God or to Mary. Such indeed were + the Collyridians of old. . . . Such that German herdsman a hundred + years ago, who gave out publicly that he was a new prophet and had + had a vision of the Deipara, and told the people in her name to pay + no more tributes and taxes to princes. .... Moreover, how many + Catholics does one see who, by great and shocking negligence, have + neither care nor regard for her _cultus_, but, given to profane and + secular objects, scarce once a year raise their earthly minds to + sing her praises or to venerate her!"--_De Mariâ Deiparâ_, p. 518. + +(2.) Father Petau says, when discussing the teaching of the fathers +about the Blessed Virgin (de Incarn. xiv. 8): + + "I will venture to give this advice to all who would be devout and + panegyrical toward the Holy Virgin, viz., not to exceed in their + piety and devotion to her, but to be content with true and solid + praises, and to cast aside what is otherwise. The latter kind of + idolatry, lurking, as St. Augustine says, nay implanted, in human + hearts, is greatly abhorrent from theology, that is from the gravity + of heavenly wisdom, which never thinks or asserts anything but what + is measured by certain and accurate rules. What that rule should be, + and what caution is to be used in our present subject, I will not + determine of myself, but according to the mind of a most weighty and + most learned theologian, John Gerson, who in one of his epistles + proposes certain canons, which he calls truths, by means of which + are to be measured the assertions of theologians concerning the + incarnation. . . By these truly golden precepts Gerson brings within + bounds the immoderate license of praising the Blessed Virgin, and + restrains it within the measure of sober and healthy piety. And from + these it is evident that that sort of reasoning is frivolous and + nugatory in which so many indulge, in order to assign any sort of + grace they please, however unusual, to the Blessed Virgin. For they + argue thus: 'Whatever the Son of God could bestow for the glory of + his mother, that it became him in fact to furnish;' or again, + 'Whatever honors or ornaments he has poured out on other saints, + those all together hath he heaped upon his mother;' whence they draw + their chain of reasoning to their desired conclusion; a mode of + argumentation which Gerson treats with contempt as captious and + sophistical." + +He adds, what of course we all should say, that, in thus speaking, he +has no intention to curtail the liberty of pious persons in such +meditations and conjectures, on the mysteries of faith, sacred +histories, and the Scripture text, as are of the nature of comments, +supplements, and the like. + +(3.) Raynaud is an author full of devotion, if any one is so, to the +Blessed Virgin; yet, in the work which he has composed in her honor +("Diptycha Mariana"), he says more than I can quote here to the same +purpose as Petau. I abridge some portions of his text: + + "Let this be taken for granted, that no praises of ours can come up + to the praises due to the Virgin Mother. But we must not make up for + our inability to reach her true praise by a supply of lying + embellishment and false honors. For there are some whose affection + for religious objects is so imprudent and lawless, that they + transgress the due limits even toward the saints. This Origen has + excellently observed upon in the case of the Baptist, for very many, + instead of observing the measure of charity, consider whether he + might not be the Christ"--p. 9. ". . . St. Anselm, the first, or + one of the first, champions of the public celebration of the Blessed + Virgin's immaculate conception, says (de Excell. Virg.) that the + church considers it indecent, that anything that admits of doubt + should be said in her praise, when the things which are certainly + true of her supply such large materials for laudation. It is right + so to interpret St. Epiphanius also, when he says that human tongues + should not pronounce anything lightly of the Deipara; and who is + more justly to be charged with speaking lightly of the most holy + Mother of God, than he who, as if what is certain and evident did + not suffice for her full investiture, is wiser than the aged, and + obtrudes on us the toadstools of his own mind, and devotions unheard + of by those holy fathers who loved her best? Plainly as St. Anselm + says that she is the Mother of God, this by itself exceeds every + elevation which can be named or imagined, short of God. About so + sublime a majesty we should not speak hastily from prurience of wit, + or flimsy pretext of promoting piety; but with great maturity of + thought; and, whenever the maxims of the church and the oracles of + {89} faith do not suffice, then not without the suffrages of the + doctors. . . . Those who are subject to this prurience of + innovation, do not perceive how broad is the difference between + subjects of human science and heavenly things. All novelty + concerning the objects of our faith is to be put far away; except so + far as by diligent investigation of God's word, written and + unwritten, and a well founded inference from what is thence to be + elicited, something is brought to light which, though already indeed + there, had not hitherto been recognized. The innovations which we + condemn are those which rest neither on the written nor unwritten + word, nor on conclusions from it, nor on the judgment of ancient + sages, nor sufficient basis of reason, but on the sole color and + pretext of doing more honor to the Deipara."--p. 10. + +In another portion of the same work, he speaks in particular of one of +those imaginations to which you especially refer, and for which, +without strict necessity (as it seems to me), you allege the authority +of à Lapide: + + "Nor is that honor of the Deipara to be offered, viz., that the + elements of the body of Christ, which the Blessed Virgin supplied to + it, remain perpetually unaltered in Christ, and thereby are found + also in the eucharist. . . . This solicitude for the Virgin's glory + must, I consider, be discarded; since, if rightly considered, it + involves an injury toward Christ, and such honors the Virgin loveth + not. And first, dismissing philosophical bagatelles about the + animation of blood, milk, etc., who can endure the proposition that + a good portion of the substance of Christ in the eucharist should be + worshipped with a _cultus_ less than _latria_? viz., by the inferior + _cultus_ of _hyperdulia?_ The preferable class of theologians + contend that not even the humanity of Christ is to be materially + abstracted from the Word of God, and worshipped by itself; how then + shall we introduce a _cultus_ of the Deipara in Christ, which is + inferior to the _cultus_ proper to him? How is this other than + casting down of the substance of Christ from his royal throne, and a + degradation of it to some inferior sitting-place? Is is nothing to + the purpose to refer to such fathers as say that the flesh of Christ + is the flesh of Mary, for they speak of its origin. What will + hinder, if this doctrine be admitted, our also admitting that there + is something in Christ which is detestable? for, as the first + elements of a body which were communicated by the Virgin to Christ + have (as these authors say) remained perpetually in Christ, so the + same _materia_, at least in part, which belonged originally to the + ancestors of Christ, came down to the Virgin from her father, + unchanged, and taken from her grandfather, and so on. And thus, + since it is not unlikely that some of these ancestors were + reprobate, there would now be something actually in Christ which had + belonged to a reprobate and worthy of detestation."--p. 237. + +8. After such explanations, and with such authorities, to clear my +path, I put away from me, as you would wish, without any hesitation, +as matters in which my heart and reason have no part (when taken in +their literal and absolute sense, as any Protestant would naturally +take them, and as the writers doubtless did not use them), such +sentences, and phrases, as these: that the mercy of Mary is infinite; +that God has resigned into her hands his omnipotence; that +(unconditionally) it is safer to seek her than her Son; that the +Blessed Virgin is superior to God; that he is (simply) subject to her +command; that our Lord is now of the same disposition as his Father +toward sinners, viz., a disposition to reject them, while Mary takes +his place as an advocate with Father and Son; that the saints are more +ready to intercede with Jesus than Jesus with the Father; that Mary is +the only refuge of those with whom God is angry; that Mary alone can +obtain a Protestant's conversion; that it would have sufficed for the +salvation of men if our Lord had died not to obey his Father, but to +defer to the decree of his mother; that she rivals our Lord in being +God's daughter, not by adoption, but by a kind of nature; that Christ +fulfilled the office of Saviour by imitating her virtues; that, as the +incarnate God bore the image of his Father, so he bore the image of +his mother; that redemption derived from Christ indeed its +sufficiency, but from Mary its beauty and loveliness; that us we are +clothed with the merits of Christ, so we are clothed with {90} the +merits of Mary; that, as he is priest, in like manner is she +priestess; that his body and blood in the eucharist are truly hers and +appertain to her; that as he is present and received therein, so is +she present and received therein; that priests are ministers, as of +Christ, so of Mary; that elect souls are born of God and Mary; that +the Holy Ghost brings into fruitfulness his action by her, producing +in her and by her Jesus Christ in his members; that the kingdom of God +in our souls, as our Lord speaks, is really the kingdom of Mary in the +soul--and she and the Holy Ghost produce in the soul extraordinary +things--and when the Holy Ghost finds Mary in a soul he flies there. + +Sentiments such as these I never knew of till I read your book, nor, +as I think, do the vast minority of English Catholics know them. They +seem to me like a bad dream. I could not have conceived them to be +said. I know not to what authority to go for them, to Scripture, or to +the fathers, or to the decrees of councils, or to the consent of +schools, or to the tradition of the faithful, or to the Holy See, or +to reason. They defy all the _loci theologici_. There is nothing of +them in the Missal, in the Roman Catechism, in the Roman '"Raccolta," +in the "Imitation of Christ," in Gother, Challoner, Milner, or +Wiseman, as far as I am aware. They do but scare and confuse me. I +should not be holier, more spiritual, more sure of perseverance, if I +twisted my moral being into the reception of them; I should but be +guilty of fulsome, frigid flattery toward the most upright and noble +of God's creatures if I professed them, and of stupid flattery too; +for it would be like the compliment of painting up a young and +beautiful princess with the brow of a Plato and the muscle of an +Achilles. And I should expect her to tell one of her people in waiting +to turn me off her service without warning. Whether thus to feel be +the _scandalum parvulorum_ in my case, or the _scandalum +Pharisaeorum_, I leave others to decide; but I will say plainly that I +had rather believe (which is impossible) that there is no God at all, +than that Mary is greater than God. I will have nothing to do with +statements which can only be explained by being explained away. I do +not, however, speak of these statements as they are found in their +authors, for I know nothing of the originals, and cannot believe that +they have meant what you say; but I take them as they lie in your +pages. Were any of them the sayings of saints in ecstasy, I should +know they had a good meaning; still, I should not repeat them myself; +but I am looking at them not as spoken by the tongues of angels, but +according to that literal sense which they bear in the mouths of +English men and English women. And, as spoken by man to man, in +England, in the nineteenth century, I consider them calculated to +prejudice inquirers, to frighten the unlearned, to unsettle +consciences, to provoke blasphemy, and to work the loss of souls. + +9. And now, after having said so much as this, bear with me, my dear +friend, if I end with an expostulation. Have you not been touching us +on a very tender point in a very rude way? Is not the effect of what +you have said to expose her to scorn and obloquy who is dearer to us +than any other creature? Have you even hinted that our love for her is +anything else than an abuse? Have you thrown her one kind word +yourself all through your book? I trust so, but I have not lighted +upon one. And yet I know you love her well. Can you wonder, then--can +I complain much, much as I grieve--that men should utterly misconceive +of you, and are blind to the fact that you have put the whole argument +between you and us on a new footing; and that, whereas it was said +twenty-five years ago in the "British Critic," "Till Rome ceases to be +what practically she is, union is _impossible_ between her and +England," you declare, on the contrary, "It is _possible_ as soon as +Italy and England, {91} haying the same faith and the same centre of +unity, are allowed to hold severally their own theological opinions?" +They have not done you justice here because, in truth, the honor of +our Lady is dearer to them than the conversion of England. + +Take a parallel case, and consider how you would decide it yourself. +Supposing an opponent of a doctrine for which you so earnestly +contend, the eternity of punishment, instead of meeting you with +direct arguments against it, heaped together a number of extravagant +descriptions of the place, mode, and circumstances of its infliction, +quoted Tertullian as a witness for the primitive fathers, and the +Covenanters and Ranters for these last centuries; brought passages +from the "Inferno" of Dante, and from the sermons of Whitfield; nay, +supposing he confined himself to the chapters on the subject in Jeremy +Taylor's work on "The State of Man," would you think this a fair and +becoming method of reasoning? and if he avowed that he should ever +consider the Anglican Church committed to all these accessories of the +doctrine till its authorities formally denounced Taylor and Whitfield, +and a hundred others, would you think this an equitable determination, +or the procedure of a theologian? + + + +So far concerning the Blessed Virgin, the chief but not the only +subject of your volume. And now, when I could wish to proceed, she +seems to stop me, for the Feast of her Immaculate Conception is upon +us; and close upon its octave, which is kept with special solemnities +in the churches of this town, come the great antiphons, the heralds of +Christmas. That joyful season, joyful for all of us, while it centres +in him who then came on earth, also brings before us in peculiar +prominence that Virgin Mother who bore and nursed him. Here she is not +in the background, as at Eastertide, but she brings him to us in her +arms. Two great festivals, dedicated to her honor, to-morrow's and the +Purification, mark out and keep the ground, and, like the towers of +David, open the way to and fro for the high holiday season of the +Prince of Peace. And all along it her image is upon it, such as we see +it in the typical representation of the Catacombs. May the sacred +influences of this time bring us all together in unity! May it destroy +all bitterness on your side and ours! May it quench all jealous, sour, +proud, fierce antagonism on our side; and dissipate all captious, +carping, fastidious refinements of reasoning on yours! May that bright +and gentle lady, the Blessed Virgin Mary, overcome you with her +sweetness, and revenge herself on her foes by interceding effectually +for their conversion! + +I am, yours, most affectionately, +John H. Newman. + +THE ORATORY, BIRMINGHAM, +_In fest. S. Ambrosii_, 1865. + +{92} + + +From The Sixpenny Magazine. + +HAVEN'T TIME + + +A CHAPTER FOR PARENTS. + + +"That boy needs more attention," said Mr. Green, referring to his +eldest son, a lad whose wayward temper and inclination to vice +demanded a steady, consistent, wise, and ever-present exercise of +parental watchfulness and authority. + +"You may well say that," returned the mother of the boy, for to her +the remark had been made. "He is getting entirely beyond me." + +"If I only had the time to look after him?" Mr. Green sighed as he +uttered these words. + +"I think you ought to take more time for a purpose like this," said +Mrs. Green. + +"More time!" Mr. Green spoke with marked impatience. "What time have I +to attend to him, Margaret? Am I not entirely absorbed in business? +Even now I should be at the counting-house, and am only kept away by +your late breakfast." + +Just then the breakfast bell rang, and Mr. and Mrs. Green, accompanied +by their children, repaired to the dining-room. John, the boy about +whom the parents had been talking, was among the number. As they took +their places at the table he exhibited certain disorderly movements, +and a disposition to annoy his younger brothers and sisters. But these +were checked, instantly, by his father, of whom John stood in some +fear. + +Before the children had finished eating, Mr. Green laid his knife and +fork side by side on his plate, pushed his chair back, and was in the +act of rising, when his wife said: + +"Don't go yet. Just wait until John is through with his breakfast. He +acts dreadfully the moment your back is turned." + +Mr. Green turned a quick, lowering glance upon the boy, whose eyes +shrank beneath his angry glance, saying as ho did so: + +"I haven't time to stay a moment longer; I ought to have been at my +business an hour ago, But see here, my lad," addressing himself to +John, "there has been enough of this work. Not a day passes that I am +not worried with complaints about you. Now, mark me! I shall inquire +particularly as to your conduct when I come home at dinner-time; and, +if you have given your mother any trouble, or acted in any way +improperly, I will take you severely to account. It's outrageous that +the whole family should be kept in constant trouble by you. Now, be on +your guard!" + +A moment or two Mr. Green stood frowning upon the boy, and then +retired. + +Scarcely had the sound of the closing street-door, which marked the +fact of Mr. Green's departure, ceased to echo through the house, ere +John began to act as was his custom when his father was out of the +way. His mother's remonstrances were of no avail; and, when she +finally compelled him to leave the table, he obeyed with a most +provoking and insolent manner. + +All this would have been prevented if Mr. Green had taken from +business just ten minutes, and conscientiously devoted that time to +{93} the government of his wayward boy and the protection of the +family from his annoyances. + +On arriving at his counting-house, Mr. Green found two or three +persons waiting, and but a single clerk in attendance. He had felt +some doubts as to the correctness of his conduct in leaving home so +abruptly, under the circumstances; but the presence of the customers +satisfied him that he had done right. Business, in his mind, was +paramount to everything else; and his highest duty to his family he +felt to be discharged when he was devoting himself most assiduously to +the work of procuring for them the means of external comfort, ease, +and luxury. Worldly well-doing was a cardinal virtue in his eyes. + +Mr. Green was the gainer, perhaps, of two shillings in the way of +profit on sales, by being at his counting-house ten minutes earlier +than would have been the case had he remained with his family until +the completion of their morning meal. What was lost to his boy by the +opportunity thus afforded for an indulgence in a perverse and +disobedient temper it is hard to say. Something was, undoubtedly, +lost--something, the valuation of which, in money, it would be +difficult to make. + +Mrs. Green did not complain of John's conduct to his father at +dinner-time. She was so often forced to complain that she avoided the +task whenever she felt justified in doing so; and that was, perhaps, +far too often. Mr. Green asked no questions; for he knew, by +experience, to what results such questions would lead, and he was in +no mood for unpleasant intelligence. So John escaped, as he had +escaped hundreds of times before, and felt encouraged to indulge his +bad propensities at will, to his own injury and the annoyance of all +around him. + +If Mr. Green had no time in the morning or through the day to attend +to his children, the evening, one might think, would afford +opportunity for conference with them, supervision of their studies, +and an earnest inquiry into their conduct and moral and intellectual +progress. But such was not the case. Mr. Green was too much wearied +with the occupation of the day to bear the annoyance of the children; +or his thoughts were too busy with business matters, or schemes of +profit, to attend to the thousand and one questions they were ready to +pour in upon him from all sides; or he had a political club to attend, +an engagement with some merchant for the discussion of a matter +connected with trade, or felt obliged to be present at the meeting of +some society of which he was a member. So he either left home +immediately after tea, or the children were sent to bed in order that +he might have a quiet evening for rest, business reflection, or the +enjoyment of a new book. + +Mr. Green had so much to do and so much to think about that he had no +time to attend to his children; and this neglect was daily leaving +upon them ineffaceable impressions that would inevitably mar the +happiness of their after lives. This was particularly the case with +John. Better off in the world was Mr. Green becoming every day--better +off as it regarded money; but poorer in another sense--poorer in +respect to home affections and home treasures. His children were not +growing up to love him intensely, to confide in him implicitly, and to +respect him as their father and friend. He had no time to attend to +them, and rather pushed them away than drew them toward him with the +strong cords of affection. To his wife he left their government, and +she was not equal to the task. + +"I don't believe," said Mrs. Green, one day, "that John is learning +much at the school where he goes. I think you ought to see after him a +little. He never studies a lesson at home." + +"Mr. Elden has the reputation of being one of our best teachers. His +school stands high," replied Mr. Green. {94} "That may happen," said +Mrs. Green. "Still, I really think you ought to know, for yourself, +how John is getting along. Of one thing I am certain, he does not +improve in good manners nor good temper in the least. And he is never +in the house between school-hours, except to get his meals. I wish you +would require him to be at your counting-house during the afternoons. +School is dismissed at four o'clock, and he ranges the streets with +other boys, and goes where he pleases from that time until night. + +"That's very bad,"--Mr. Green spoke in a concerned voice,--"very bad. +And it must be broken up. But as to having him with me, that is out of +the question. He would be into everything, and keep me in hot water +all the while. He'd like to come well enough, I do not doubt; but I +can't have him there." + +"Couldn't you set him to do something?" + +"I might. But I haven't time to attend to him, Margaret. Business is +business, and cannot be interrupted." + +Mrs. Green sighed, and then remarked: + +"I wish you would call on Mr. Elden and have a talk with him about +John." + +"I will, if you think it best." + +"Do so, by all means. And beside, I would give more time to John in +the evenings. If, for instance, you devoted an evening to him once a +week, it would enable you to understand how he is progressing, and +give you a control over him not now possessed." + +"You are right in this, no doubt, Margaret." + +But reform went not beyond this acknowledgment. Mr. Green could never +find time to see John's teacher, nor feel himself sufficiently at +leisure, or in the right mood of mind, to devote to the boy even a +single evening. + +And thus it went on from day to day, from month to month, and from +year to year, until, finally, John was sent home from school by Mr. +Elden with a note to his father, in which idleness, disorderly +conduct, and vicious habits were charged upon him in the broadest +terms. + +The unhappy Mr. Green called immediately upon the teacher, who gave +him a more particular account of his son's bad conduct, and concluded +by saying that he was unwilling to receive him back into his school. + +Strange as it may seem, it was four months before Mr. Green "found +time" to see about another school, and to get John entered therein; +during which long period the boy had full liberty to go pretty much +where he pleased, and to associate with whom he liked. It is hardly to +be supposed that he grew any better for this. + +By the time John was seventeen years of age, Mr. Green's business had +become greatly enlarged, and his mind more absorbed therein. With him +gain was the primary thing; and, as a consequence, his family held a +secondary place in his thoughts. If money were needed, he was ever +ready to supply the demand; that done, he felt that his duty to them +was, mainly, discharged. To the mother of his children he left the +work of their wise direction in the paths of life--their government +and education; but she was inadequate to the task imposed. + +From the second school at which John was entered he was dismissed +within three months, for bad conduct. He was then sent to school in a +distant city, where, removed from all parental restraint and +admonition, he made viler associates than any he had hitherto known, +and took thus a lower step in vice. He was just seventeen, when a +letter from the principal of this school conveyed to Mr. Green such +unhappy intelligence of his son that he immediately resolved, as a +last resort, to send him to sea, before the mast--and this was done, +spite of all the mother's tearful remonstrances, and the boy's threats +that he would {95} escape from the vessel on the very first +opportunity. + +And yet, for all this sad result of parental neglect, Mr. Green +devoted no more time nor care to his children. Business absorbed the +whole man. He was a merchant, both body and soul. His responsibilities +were not felt as extending beyond his counting-house, further than to +provide for the worldly well-being of his family. Is it any cause of +wonder that, with his views and practice, it should not turn out well +with his children; or, at least, with some of them? + +At the end of a year John came home from sea, a rough, cigar-smoking, +dram-drinking, overgrown boy of eighteen, with all his sensual desires +and animal passions more active than when he went away, while his +intellectual faculties and moral feelings were in a worse condition +than at his separation from home. Grief at the change oppressed the +hearts of his parents; but their grief was unavailing. Various efforts +were made to get him into some business, but he remained only a short +time in any of the places where his father had him introduced. +Finally, he was sent to sea again. But he never returned to his +friends. In a drunken street-brawl, that occurred while on shore at +Valparaiso, he was stabbed by a Spaniard, and died shortly afterward. + +On the very day this tragic event took place, Mr. Green was rejoicing +over a successful speculation, from which he had come out the gainer +by two thousand pounds. In the pleasure this circumstance occasioned, +all thoughts of the absent one, ruined by his neglect, were swallowed +up. + +Several months elapsed. Mr. Green had returned home, well satisfied +with his day's business. In his pocket was the afternoon paper, which, +after the younger children were in bed, and the older ones out of his +way, he sat down to read. His eyes turned to the foreign intelligence, +and almost the first sentence he read was the intelligence of his +son's death. The paper dropped from his hands, while he uttered an +expression of surprise and grief that caused the cheeks of his wife, +who was in the room, to turn deadly pale. She had not power to ask the +cause of her husband's sudden exclamation; but her heart, that ever +yearned toward her absent boy, instinctively divined the truth. + +"John is dead!" said Mr. Green, at length, speaking in a tremulous +tone of voice. + +There was from the mother no wild burst of anguish. The boy had been +dying to her daily for years, and she had suffered for him worse than +the pangs of death. Burying her face in her hands, she wept silently, +yet hopelessly. + +"If we were only blameless of the poor child's death!" said Mrs. +Green, lifting her tearful eyes, after the lapse of nearly ten +minutes, and speaking in a sad, self-rebuking tone of voice. + +When those with whom we are in close relationship die, how quickly is +that page in memory's book turned on which lies the record of +unkindness or neglect! Already had this page been turned for Mr. +Green, and conscience was sweeping therefrom the dust that well-nigh +obscured the handwriting. He inwardly trembled as he read the +condemning sentences that charged him with his son's ruin. + +"If we were only blameless of the poor child's death!" + +How these words of the grieving mother smote upon his heart. He did +not respond to them. How could he do so at that moment? + +"Where is Edward?" he inquired, at length. + +"I don't know," sobbed the mother. "He is out somewhere almost every +evening. Oh! I wish you would look to him a little more closely. He is +past my control." + +"I must do so," returned Mr. Green, speaking from a strong conviction +of the necessity of doing as his wife suggested; "if I only had a +little more time----" + +{96} + +He checked himself. It was the old excuse--the rock upon which all his +best hopes for his first-born had been fearfully wrecked. His lips +closed, his head was bowed, and, in the bitterness of unavailing +sorrow, he mused on the past, while every moment the conviction of +wrong toward his child, now irreparable, grew stronger and stronger. + +After that, Mr. Green made an effort to exercise more control over his +children; but he had left the reins loose so long that his tighter +grasp produced restiveness and rebellion. He persevered, however; and, +though Edward followed too closely the footsteps of John, yet the +younger children were brought under salutary restraints. The old +excuse--want of time--was frequently used by Mr. Green to justify +neglect of parental duties; but a recurrence of his thoughts to the +sad ruin of his eldest boy had, in most cases, the right effect; and +in the end he ceased to give utterance to the words--"I haven't time." +However, frequently he fell into neglect, from believing that business +demanded his undivided attention. + +------ +[ORIGINAL.] + + +THE SONG OF THE SHELL. + +WRITTEN ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE. + + + There's a music aloft in the air + As if devils were singing a song; + There's a shriek like the shriek of despair. + And a crash which the echoes prolong. + + There's a voice like the voice of the gale, + When it strikes a tall ship on the sea; + There's a rift like the rent of her sail. + As she helplessly drifts to the lee. + + There's a rush like the rushing of fiends. + Compelled by an horrible spell; + There's a flame like the flaming of brands, + Snatched in rage from the furnace of hell. + + There's a wreath like the foam on the wave, + There's a silence unbroke by a breath; + There's a thud like the clod in a grave, + There are writhings, and moanings, and death! + +------ + +{97} + +From The Lamp. + +ALL-HALLOW EVE; OR, THE TEST OF FUTURITY. + +BY ROBERT CURTIS. + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +The chief was well aware of the reputation which the priest had +obtained through the parish for medical skill, and was himself +convinced of how well he deserved it. Indeed, had the alternative +rested in any case between Father Farrell and the dispensary doctor, +there was not a parishioner who would not have preferred his pastor's +medical as well as spiritual aid. + +The chief, instead of ordering off the dispensary doctor to see young +Lennon upon a rumor that he was worse, went quietly to Father Farrell, +who must know the truth, and be able to give good advice as to what +steps, if any, were necessary to adopt. + +The matter turned out to be another black-crow story. Father Farrell +had also heard it in its exaggerated form, and had not lost a moment +in proceeding to the spot. Young Lennon had gone out to assist his +father in planting some potatoes--so far the rumor was correct. But he +had been premature in his own opinion of his convalescence. The very +first stoop he made he felt quite giddy; and although he did not fall +forward on his face, he was obliged to lean upon his father for +support for a few moments. This little experiment served to keep him +quiet for a while longer; but Father Farrell assured the chief that +matters were no worse than they had been--he might make his mind easy; +there was no injury beyond the flesh, which, of course, had become +much sorer, and must do so for a few days still. + +The chief, however, suggested the prudence, if not the necessity, of +having a medical man to see him. "Not," said he, "but that I have as +much, if not more, confidence in your own skill and experience than in +any which is available in this wild district." + +"That is rather an equivocal compliment; but perhaps it is fully as +much as I deserve," said the priest. + +"Well, I don't mean it as such, Father Farrell; but you know a great +responsibility would rest upon me, should anything unfortunate occur." + +"I see. It would not do in a court of justice to put a priest upon the +table in a medical position. I certainly could not produce a diploma. +You are quite right, my dear sir; you would be held responsible. +However, I can go the length to assure you that at present there is +not the slightest necessity for medical aid, particularly--between you +and me--under existing circumstances, which I understand very well. +The matter was a mere accident I am fully persuaded. Bat, supposing +for a moment that it was not, I know young Lennon since he was a child +running to school in his bare feet, with 'his turf and his +read-a-ma-daisy;' and I am convinced that no power on earth would +induce him to prosecute Tom Murdock." + +"Why? are they such friends?" + +"No; quite the reverse, and that is the very reason. But ask me no +more about it. Another objection I see to calling in the dispensary +doctor is this--that I am aware of an ill-feeling existing between him +and Tom {98} Murdock about a prize at a coursing-match, which the +doctor thinks was unfairly given to Tom Murdock through his influence +with the judge; and the doctor was heard to say in reference to it, +'that it was a long lane that had no turning.' Now here would be an +open for the doctor to put a turn on the lane, however straight it +might be in fact. He would not certify that Lennon's life was out of +danger--you would have to arrest Tom Murdock; young Lennon would go +distracted, and the two parishes would be in an uproar. Ill-will would +be engendered between all the young men of opposite sides, and all for +nothing; for young Lennon will be as well as ever he was in ten days. +These are my views of the case. But if your official responsibility +obliges you to differ with me, I am ready to hear you further." + +This was a great oration of Father Farrell's, but it was both sensible +and true from beginning to end, and it convinced the chief of the +propriety of "resting on his oars" for a few days longer at all +events. + +The result proved at least that there was more luck in leisure than +danger in delay. Emon-a-knock grew better; but it was by degrees. He +could not yet venture to attend to his usual daily labor, by which he +so materially contributed to the support of the family. The weather +was fine, and "the spring business" was going forward rapidly in all +directions. Poor Emon fretted that he was not able to add his +accustomed portion to the weekly earnings; but Father Farrell watched +him too closely. Once or twice he stole out to do some of their own +work, and let his father earn some of the high wages which was just +then to be had; but his own good sense told him that he was still +unable for the effort. At the end of an hour's work the old idea +haunted him that an attempt had been made to murder him, and if he had +been made a merchant-prince for it, he could not recollect how it had +happened. The only thing he did recollect distinctly about it was, +that Shanvilla won the day, and that he had been sent home in Winny +Cavana's cart and jennet--_that_, if he were in a raging fever, he +could never forget. + +But it was a sad loss to the family, Emon's incapacity to work. He had +been now three weeks ill; and although the wound in his head was in a +fair way of being healed, there was still a confused idea in his mind +about the whole affair which he could not get rid of. At times, as he +endeavored to review the matter as it had actually occurred, he could +not persuade himself but that it was really an accident; and while +under this impression he felt quite well, and able for his ordinary +labor. But there were moments when a sudden thought would cross his +mind that it had been a secret and premeditated attempt upon his life; +and then it was that the confusion ensued which rendered him unable to +recollect. What if it were really this attempt--supposing that +positive proof could be adduced of the fact--what then? Would he +prosecute Tom Murdock? Oh, no. Father Farrell was right; but he had +not formed his opinion upon the true foundation. Emon-a-knock would +not prosecute, even if he could do so to conviction. He would deal +with Tom Murdock himself if ever a fair opportunity should arise; and +if not, he might yet be in a position more thoroughly to despise him. + +In the meantime Lennon's family had not been improving in +circumstances. Emon was losing all the high wages of the spring's +work. Upon one or two occasions, when he stealthily endeavored to do a +little on his own land, while his father was catching the ready penny +abroad, he found, before he was two hours at work, the haunting idea +press upon his brain; and he returned to the house and threw himself +upon the bed confused and sad. In spite of this, however, the wound in +his head was now progressing more favorably, and {99} returning +strength renewed a more cheerful spirit within him. He fought hard +against the idea which at times forced itself upon him. The priest, +who was a constant visitor, saw that all was not yet right. He took +Emon kindly by the hand and said: "My dear young friend, do you not +feel as well as your outward condition would indicate that you ought +to be?" + +"Yes, Father Farrell, I thank God I feel my strength almost perfectly +restored. I shall be able, I hope, to give my poor father the usual +help in a few days. The worst of it is that the throng of the spring +work is over, and wages are now down a third from what they were a +month or three weeks ago." + +"If _that_ be all that is fretting you, Emon, cheer up, for there is +plenty of work still to be had; and if the wages are not quite so high +as they were a while back, you shall have constant work for some time, +which will be better than high wages for a start. I can myself afford +to make up for some of the loss this unfortunate blow has caused you. +You must accept of this." And he pulled a pound-note from his breeches +pocket. + +If occasionally there were moments when Emon's ideas were somewhat +confused, they were never clearer or sharper than as Father Farrell +said this. It so happened that he was thinking of Winny Cavana at the +moment; indeed, it would be hard to hit upon the moment when he was +not. Shanvilla was proverbially a poor parish; and Father Farrell's +continual and expressed regret was, that he was not able personally to +do more for the poor of his flock. Emon was sharp enough, and stout +enough, to speak his mind even to his priest, when he found it +necessary. + +He looked inquiringly into Father Farrell's face. "No, Father Farrell, +you _cannot_ afford it," he said. "It is your kindness leads you to +say so; and if you could afford it there are--and no man knows it +better than you do--many still poorer families than ours in the parish +requiring your aid. But under no circumstances shall I touch _that_ +pound." + +The priest was found out, and became disconcerted; but the matter was +coming to a point, and he might as well have it out. + +"Why do you lay such an emphasis upon the word _that_?" said he. "It +is a very good one," he added, laughing. + +"Well, Father Farrell, I am always ready and willing to answer you any +questions you may choose to ask me, for you are always discreet and +considerate. Of course I must always answer any questions you have a +right to ask; but you have no right to probe me now." + +"Certainly not, Emon, but you know a counsel's no command." + +"Your counsel, Father Farrell, is always good, and almost amounts to a +command. I beg your pardon, if I have spoken hastily." + +"Emon, my good young friend, and I will add, my dear young friend, I +do not wish to probe you upon any subject you are not bound to give me +your confidence upon; but why did you lay such an emphasis just now on +the word _that_? If you do not wish to answer me, you need not do so. +But you must take _this_ pound-note. You see I can lay an emphasis as +well as you when I think it is required." + +"No, Father Farrell. If the note was your own, I might take the loan +of it, and work it in with you, or pay you when I earned it. But I do +not think it is: there is the truth for you, Father Farrell." + +"I see how it is, Emon, and you are very proud. However, the truth is, +the pound was sent to me anonymously for you from a friend." + +"She might as well have signed her name in full," said Emon, sadly, +"for any loss that I can be at upon the subject--or perhaps you +yourself, Father Farrell." + +"Well, I was at no loss, I confess. But you were to know nothing about +it, Emon; only you were so sharp. {100} There is no fear that your +intellects have been injured by the blow, at all events. It was meant +kindly, Emon, and I think you ought to take it--here." + +"You think so, Father Farrell?" + +"I do; indeed I do, Emon." + +"Give it me, then," he said, taking it; and before Father Farrell's +face he pressed it to his lips. He then got a pen and ink, and wrote +something upon it. It was nothing but the date; he wanted no +memorandum of anything else respecting it. But he would hardly have +written even that, had he intended to make use of it. + +The priest stood up to leave. He knew more than he chose to tell +Emon-a-knock. But there was an amicable smile upon his lips as he held +out his hand to bid him goodby. + +Oh, the suspicion of a heart that loves! + +"Father Farrell," he said, still holding the priest's hand, "is this +the note, the very note, the identical note, she sent me?" + +"Yes, Emon; I would not deceive you about it. It is the very note; +which, I fear," he added, "is not likely to be of much use to you." + +"Why do you say that, Father Farrell? You shall one day see the +contrary." + +"Because you seem to me rather inclined to 'huxter it up,' as we say, +than to make use of it. Believe me, that was not the intention it was +sent with; oh, no, Emon; it was sent with the hope that it might be of +some use, and not to be hoarded up through any morbid sentimentality." + +"Give me one instead of it. Father Farrell, and keep this one until I +can redeem it." + +"I have not got another, Emon; pounds are not so plenty with me." + +"And yet you would have persuaded me just now that it was your own and +that you could afford to bestow it upon me!" + +"Pardon me, Emon, I would not have persuaded you; I was merely silent +upon the subject until your suspicions made you cross-examine me. I +was then plain enough with you. I used no deceit; and I now tell you +plainly that if you take this pound-note, you ought to use it; +otherwise you will give her who sent it very just cause for +annoyance." + +"Then it shall be as she wishes and as you advise, Father Farrell. I +cannot err under your guidance. I shall use it freely and with +gratitude; but you need not tell her that I know who sent it." + +"Do you think that I am an _aumadhawn_, Emon? The very thing she was +anxious to avoid herself. I shall never speak to her, perhaps, upon +the subject." + +The priest then left him with a genuine and hearty blessing, which +could not fail of a beneficial influence. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +The priest had been a true prophet and a good doctor, and perhaps it +was well for all parties concerned that the dispensary M.D. had been +dispensed with. Emon now recovered his strength every day more and +more. The wound in his head had completely healed. There was scarcely +a mark left of where it had been, unless you blew his beautiful soft +hair aside, when a slight hard ridge was just perceptible. Father +Farrell had procured him a permanent job of some weeks, at rather an +increase of wages from what was "going" at the time, for the spring +business was now over and work was slack. But a gentleman who had +recently purchased a small property in that part of the country, and +intended to reside, had commenced alterations in the laying-out of the +grounds about his "mansion;" and meeting Father Farrell one day, asked +him if he could recommend a smart, handy man for a tolerably long job. +There would be a good deal of "skinning" and cutting of sods, {101} +levelling hillocks, and filling up hollows, and wheeling of clay. For +the latter portion of the work, the man should have help. What he +wanted was a tasty, handy fellow, who would understand quickly what +was required as it was explained to him. + +Father Farrell, as the gentleman said all this, thought that he must +have actually had Emon-a-knock in his mind's eye. He was the very man +on every account, and the priest at once recommended him. This job +would soon make up for all the time poor Emon had lost with his broken +head. And for his intelligence and taste Father Farrell had gone bail. +Thus it was that Emon after all had not broken the pound-note, but, in +spite of the priest, had hoarded it as a trophy of Winny's love. + +Emon would have had a rather long walk every morning to his work, and +the same in the evening after it was over. But Mr. D---- on the very +first interview with young Lennon, was sharp enough to find out his +value as a rural engineer, and, for his own sake as well as Lennon's, +he made arrangements that he should stop at a tenant's house, not far +from the scene of his landscape-gardening, which was likely to last +for some time. Mr. D---- was not a man who measured a day's work by +its external extent. He looked rather to the manner of its +accomplishment, and would not allow the thing to be "run over." He did +not care for the expense; what he wanted was to have the thing well +done; and he gave Father Farrell great credit for his choice in a +workman. If he liked the job when it was finished, he did not say but +that he would give Lennon a permanent situation, as overseer, at a +fixed salary. But up to this time he had not seen, nor even heard of, +Winny Cavana, except what had been implied to his heart by the +priest's pound-note. He was further now from Rathcash chapel than +ever; nevertheless he would show himself there, "God willing," next +Sunday. What was Tom Murdock's surprise and chagrin on the following +Sunday to observe "that confounded whelp" on the road before him, as +he went to prayers--looking, too, better dressed, and as well and +handsome as ever! He thought he had "put a spoke in his wheel" for the +whole summer at the least; and before that was over, he had determined +to have matters irrevocably _clinched_ if not _settled_ with Miss +Winifred Cavana. + +After what manner this was to be accomplished was only known to +himself and three others, associates in his villany. + +The matter had been already discussed in all its bearings. All the +arguments in favor of, and opposed to, its success had been exhausted, +and the final result was, that the thing should be done, and was only +waiting a favorable opportunity to be put in practice. Some matters of +detail, however, had to be arranged, which would take some time; but +as the business was kept "dark" there was no hurry. Tom Murdock's +secret was safe in the keeping of his coadjutors, whose "oath of +brotherhood" bound them not only to inviolable silence, but to their +assistance in carrying out his nefarious designs. + +The sight of young Lennon once more upon the scene gave a spur to +Tom's plans and determination. He had hoped that that "accidental tip" +which he had given him would at least have had the effect of reducing +him in circumstances and appearance, and have kept him in his own +parish. He knew that Lennon was depending upon his day's wages for +even the sustenance of life; that there was a family of at least four +beside himself to support; and he gloated himself over the idea that a +month or six weeks' sick idleness, recovering at best when there was +no work to be had, would have left "that whelp" in a condition almost +unpresentable even at his own parish chapel. What was his +mortification, therefore, when he now beheld young Lennon before him +on the road! + +{102} + +"By the table of war," he said in his heart, "this must hasten my +plans! I cannot permit an intimacy to be renewed in that quarter. I +must see my friends at once." + +Winny Cavana, although she had not seen Emon-a-knock since the +accident, had taken care to learn through her peculiar resources how +"the poor fellow was getting on." Her friend Kate Mulvey was one of +these resources. + +Although it has not yet oozed out in this story, it is necessary that +it should now do so: Phil M'Dermott, then, was a great admirer of Kate +Mulvey. He was one of those who advocated an interchange of +parishioners in the courting line. He did not think it fair that +"exclusive dealing" should be observed in such cases. + +Now, useless as it was, and forlorn as had been hitherto the hope, +Phil M'Dermott, like all true lovers, could not keep away from his +cold-hearted Kate. It was a satisfaction to him at all events "to be +looking at her;" and somehow since Emon's accident she seemed more +friendly and condescending in her manner to poor Phil. It will be +remembered that Phil M'Dermott was a great friend of Emon-a-knock's, +and it may now be said that he was a near neighbor. It was natural, +then, that Kate Mulvey should find out all about Emon from him, and +"have word" for Winny when they met. This was one resource, and Father +Farrell, as he sometimes passed Kate's door, was another. Father +Farrell could guess very well, notwithstanding Kate's careless manner +of asking, that his information would not rest in her own breast, and +gave it as fully and satisfactorily as he could. + +Kate Mulvey, however, "would not for the world" say a word to either +Phil M'Dermott or Father Farrell which could be construed as coming +from Winny Cavana to Emon-a-knock; she had Winny's strict orders to +that effect. But Kate felt quite at liberty to make any remarks she +chose, as coming from herself. + +Poor Emon, upon this his first occasion of, it may be said, appearing +in public after his accident, was greeted, after prayers were over, +with a genuine cordiality by the Rathcash boys, and several times +interfered with in his object of "getting speech" of Winny Cavana, who +was some distance in advance, in consequence of these delays. + +But Winny was not the girl to be frustrated by any unnecessary prudery +on such an occasion. + +"Father," she said, "there's Emon at our chapel to-day for the first +time since he was hurt. Let us not be behindhand with the neighbors to +congratulate him on his recovery. I see all the Rathcash people are +glad to see him." + +"And so they ought, Winny; I'm glad you told me he was here, for I did +not happen to see him. Stand where you are until he comes up." And the +old man stood patiently for some minutes while Emon's friends were +expressing their pleasure at his reappearance. + +Winny had kept as clear as possible of Tom Murdock since the accident +at the hurling match; so much so that he could not but know it was +intentional. + +Tom had remarked during prayers that Winny's countenance had +brightened up wonderfully when young Lennon came into the chapel, and +took a quiet place not far inside the door; for he had been kept +outside by the kind inquiries of his friends until the congregation +had become pretty throng. He had observed too, for he was on the +watch, that Winny's eyes had often wandered in the direction of the +door up to the time when "that whelp" had entered; but from that +moment, when he had observed the bright smile light up her face, she +had never turned them from the officiating priest and the altar. + +Tom had not ventured to walk home with Winny from the chapel for some +Sundays past, nor would he to-day. What puzzled him not a little was +what his line of conduct ought to be with respect to Lennon, whom he +had not seen since the accident. His course {103} was, however, taken +after a few moments' reflection. He did not forget that on the +occasion of the blow he had exhibited much sympathy with the sufferer, +and had declared it to have been purely accidental. He should keep up +that character of the affair now, or make a liar of himself, both as +to the past and his feelings. + +"Beside," thought he, "I may so delay him that Miss Winifred cannot +have the face to delay for him so long." + +Just then, as Emon had emancipated himself from the cordiality of +three or four young men, and was about to step out quickly to where he +saw Winny and her father standing on the road, Tom came up. + +"Ah, Lennon!" he said, stretching out his hand, "I am glad to see you +in this part of the country again. I hope you are quite recovered." + +"Quite, thank God," said Emon, pushing by without taking his hand. +"But I see Winny and her father waiting on the road, and I cannot stop +to talk to you;" and he strode on. Emon left out the "Cavana" in the +above sentence on purpose, because he knew the familiarity its +omission created would vex Tom Murdock. + +"Bad luck to your impudence, you conceited cub, you!" was Murdock's +mental ejaculation as he watched the cordial greeting between him and +Winny Cavana, to say nothing of her father, who appeared equally glad +to see him. + +Phil M'Dermott had come for company that day with Emon, and had +managed to join Kate Mulvey as they came out of chapel. She had her +eyes about her, and saw very well how matters had gone so far. For the +first time in her life she noticed the scowl on Tom Murdock's brow as +she came toward him. + +"God between us and harm, but he looks wicked this morning!" thought +she; and she was almost not sorry when he turned suddenly round and +walked off without waiting for her so much as to "bid him the time of +day." + +"That's more of it," said Tom to himself. "There is that one now +taking up with that tinker." + +He felt something like the little boy who said, "What! will nobody +come and play with me?" But Tom did not, like him, become a good boy +after that. + +He watched the Cavanas and Lennon, who had not left the spot where +Lennon came up with them until they were joined by Kate And Phil +M'Dermott, when they all walked on together, chatting and laughing as +if nobody in the world was wicked or unhappy. + +He dodged them at some distance, and was not a little surprised to see +the whole party-"the whelp," "the tinker," and all--turn up the lane +and go into Cavana's house. + +"_That will do_," said he; "I must see my friends this very night, and +before this day fortnight we'll see who will win the trick." + +Emon-a-knock and Phil M'Dermott actually paid a visit to old Ned +Cavana's that Sunday. Tom Murdock had seen them going in, and he +minuted them by his silver hunting-watch--for he had one. His eye +wandered from the door to his watch, and from his watch to the door, +as if he were feeling the pulse of their visit. He thought he had +never seen Kate Mulvey looking so handsome, or Phil M'Dermott so clean +or so well-dressed. + +But it mattered not. If Kate was a Venus, Tom will carry out his plans +with respect to Winny, and let Phil M'Dermott work his own point in +that other quarter. Not that he cared much for Winny herself, but he +wanted her farm, and he _hated "that whelp Lennon."_ + +They remained just twenty-five minutes in old Cavana's; this for Kate +Mulvey was nothing very wonderful, but for two young men--neither of +whom had ever darkened his doors before--Tom thought it rather a long +visit. + +{104} + +There they were now, going down the lane together, laughing and +chatting, all three seemingly in good humor. + +Cranky and out of temper as he was, Tom's observation was correct in +more matters than one, Phil M'Dermott was particularly well-dressed on +this occasion, his first visit to Rathcash chapel. Perhaps after +to-day he may be oftener there than at his own. + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +Perhaps there was nothing extraordinary, after the encouragement which +Emon had met with upon his first appearance at Rathcash chapel after +"the accident," if he found it pleasanter to "overtake mass" there +than to come in quietly at Shanvilla. The walk did him good. Be this +as it may, he was now a regular attendant at a chapel which was a mile +and a half further from his home than his own. + +Two Sundays had now come round since Tom Murdock had seen the +reception which "that whelp" had met with from the Cavanas, not only +as he came out of the chapel, but in asking him up to the house, and, +he supposed, giving him luncheon; for the visits had been repeated +each successive Sunday. Then that fellow M'Dermott had also come to +their chapel, and he and Kate Mulvey had also gone up with the +Cavanas. This was now the third Sunday on which this had taken place; +and not only Winny herself, but her father seemed to acquiesce in +bringing it about. + +Tom's fortnight had passed by, and he had not "won the trick," as he +had threatened to do. "Well," thought he, "it cannot be done in a +minute. I have been dealing the cards, and, contrary to custom, the +dealer shall lead beside; and that soon." + +Winny's happy smile was now so continuous and so gratifying to her +father's heart, that if he had not become altogether reconciled to an +increased intimacy with Edward Lennon, he had at all events become a +convert to her dislike to Tom Murdock, and no mistake. + +In spite of all his caution, one or two matters had crept out as to +his doings, and had come to old Ned's ears in such a way that no doubt +could remain on his mind of their veracity. He began to give Winny +credit for more sharpness than he had been inclined to do; and it +crossed his mind once that, if Winny was not mistaken about Tom +Murdock's villany, she might not be mistaken either about _anybody +else's worth_. The thought had not individualized itself as yet. In +the meantime young Lennon's quiet and natural manner, his unvarying +attention and respect for the old man himself, and his apparent +carelessness for Winny's private company, grew upon old Ned +insensibly; and it was now almost as a fixed rule that he paid a +Sunday visit after mass at Rathcash, the old man putting his hand upon +his shoulder, and facing him toward the house at the end of the lane, +saying, "Come, Edward Lennon, the murphys will be teemed by the time +we get up, and no one can fault our bacon or our butter." + +"_My_ butter, Emon," said Winny on one occasion, at a venture. + +Her father looked at her. But there was never another word about it. + +All this was anything but pleasing to Tom Murdock, who always sulkily +dogged them at some distance behind. + +Now we shall not believe that Emon-a-knock was such a muff, or Winny +Cavana such a prude, as to suppose that no little opportunity was +seized upon for a kind soft word between them _unknownt_. Nor shall we +suppose that Kate Mulvey, who was always of the party, was such a +marplot as to obstruct such a happy casualty, should it occur, +particularly if Phil was to the fore. + +Emon's careless, loud laugh along the road, as he escorted Kate to her +own door, gave evidence that his heart was light and that (as Kate +thought, though she did not question him) {105} matters were on the +right road for him. Winny, too, when they met, was so happy, and so +different from what for a while she had been, that Kate, although she +did not question her either, guessed that all was right with her too. + +Matters, as they now seemed to progress, and he watched them close, +were daggers to Tom Murdock's heart. He had seen Winny Cavana, on more +than one evening, leave the house and take the turn toward Kate +Mulvey's. On these occasions he had the meanness and want of spirit to +watch her movements; and although he could not satisfy himself that +young Lennon came to meet her, he was not quite satisfied that he did +not. + +Winny invariably turned into Kate Mulvey's, and remained for a long +visit. Might not "that hound" be there?--Tom sometimes varied his +epithets--might it not be a place of assignation? This was but the +suspicion of a low, mean mind like Tom Murdock's. + +The fact is, since Tom's threat about "winning the trick" he had been +rather idle. His game was not one which could be played out by +correspondence--he was too cunning for that--and the means which he +would be obliged to adopt were not exactly ready at his hand. He saw +that matters were not pressing in another quarter yet, if ever they +should press, and he would "ride a waiting race," and win +unexpectedly. Thus the simile of Tom's thoughts still took their tone +from the race-course, and he would "hold hard" for another bit. +Circumstances, however, soon occurred which made him "push forward +toward the front" if he had any hope "to come in first." + +Edward Lennon having finished his "landscape gardening" at Mr. D----s, +and the overseership being held over for the present, had got another +rather long job, on the far part of Ned Cavana's farm, in laying out +and cutting drains, where the land required reclaiming. He had shown +so much taste and intelligence, in both planning and performing, that +old Ned was quite delighted with him, and began to regret "that he had +not known his value as an agricultural laborer long before." There was +one other at least--if not two--who sympathized in that regret. At all +events, there he was now every day up to his hips in dirty red clay, +scooping it up from the bottom of little drains more than three feet +deep, in a long iron scoop with a crooked handle. This job was at the +far end of Ned's farm, and, in coming to his work, Lennon need hardly +come within sight of the house, for the work lay in the direction of +Shanvilla. Emon did not "quit work" until it was late; he was then in +anything but visiting trim, if such a thing were even possible. He, +therefore, saw no more of Winny on account of the job than if he had +been at work on the Giant's Causeway. But a grand object had been +attained, nevertheless--he was working for Ned Cavana, and had given +him more than satisfaction in the performance of the job, and on one +occasion old Ned had called him "Emon-a-wochal," a term of great +familiarity. This was a great change for the better. If young Lennon +had been as well acquainted with racing phraseology as Tom Murdock, he +also would have thought that he would "make a waiting race of it." But +the expression of _his_ thoughts was that he "would bide his time." + +The Sundays, however, were still available, and Emon did not lose the +chance. He now because so regular an attendant at Rathcash chapel, and +went up so regularly with old Ned and his daughter after prayers, that +it was no wonder if people began to talk. + +"I donna what Tom Murdock says to all this, Bill," said Tim Fahy to a +neighbor, on the road from the chapel. + +"The sorra wan of me knows, Tim, but I hear he isn't over-well +plaised." + +"Arrah, what id he be plaised at? Is it to see a Shanvilla boy, +without a cross, intherlopin' betune him an' his bachelor?" + +"Well, they say he needn't be a bit afeared, Lennon is a very good +workman, {106} and undherstan's dhrainin', an' ould Ned's cute enough +to get a job well done; but he'd no more give his daughter with her +fine fortin' to that chap, than he'd throw her an' it into the +say--b'lieve you me." + +"There's some very heavy cloud upon Tom this while back, any way; and +though he keeps it very close, there's people thinks it's what she +refused him." + +"The sorra fear iv her, Tim; she has more sinse nor that." + +"Well, riddle me this, Bill. What brings that chap here Sunda' afther +Sunda', and what takes him up to ould Ned Cavana's every Sunda' afther +mass? He is a very good-lookin' young fellow, an' knows a sheep's head +from a sow's ear, or Tim Fahy's a fool." + +"_Och badhershin_, doesn't he go up to walk home wid Kate Mulvey, for +she's always iv the party?" + +"And _badhershin_ yourself, Bill, isn't Phil M'Dermott always to the +fore for Kate?--another intherloper from Shanvilla. I donna what the +sorra the Rathcash boys are about." + +Other confabs of a similar nature were carried on by different sets as +they returned from prayers, and saw the Cavanas with their company +turn up the lane toward the house. The young girls of the district, +too, had their chats upon the subject; but they were so voluble, and +some of them so ill-natured, that I forbear to give the reader any +specimen of their remarks. One or two intimate associates of Tom +ventured to quiz him upon the state of affairs. Now none but an +intimate friend, indeed, of Tom's should have ventured, under the +circumstances, to have touched upon so sore a subject, and those who +did, intimate as they were, did not venture to repeat the joke. No, it +was no joke; and that they soon found out. To one friend who had +quizzed him privately he said, "Suspend your judgment, Denis; and if I +don't prove myself more than a match for that half-bred _kiout_, then +condemn me." + +But to another, who had quizzed him before some bystanders in rather a +ridiculous point of view, he turned like a bull-terrier, while his +face assumed a scowl of a peculiarly unpleasant character. + +"It is no business of yours," he said, "and I advise you to mind your +own affairs, or perhaps I'll make you." + +The man drew in his horns, and sneaked off, of course; and from that +moment they all guessed that the business had gone against Tom, and +they left off quizzing. + +Tom felt that he had been wrong, and had only helped to betray +himself. His game now was to prevent, if possible, any talk about the +matter, one way or the other, until his plans should be matured, when +he doubted not that success would gain him the approbation of every +one, no matter what the means. + +The preface to his plans was, to spread a report that he had gone back +to Armagh to get married to a girl with an immense fortune, and he +endorsed the report by the fact of his leaving home; but whether to +Armagh or not, was never clearly known. + +Young Lennon went on with his job, at which old Ned told him "to take +his time, an' do it well. It was not," he said, "like digging a plot, +which had to be dug every year, or maybe twice. When it was wance +finished and covered up, there it was; worse nor the first day, if it +was not done right; so don't hurry it over, Emon-a-wochal. I don't +mind the expense; ground can't be dhrained for nothin', an' it id be a +bad job if we were obliged to be openin' any of the dhrains a second +time, an' maybe not know where the stoppage lay; so take your time, +and don't blame me if you botch it." + +"You need not fear, sir," said Lennon. (He always said "sir" as yet.) +"You need not fear; if every drain of them does not run like the +stream from Tubbernaltha, never give me a day's work again." + +{107} + +"As far as you have gone, Emon, I think they are complate; we'll have +forty carts of stones in afore Saturda' night. I hope you have help +enough, boy." + +"Plenty, sir, until we begin to cover in." + +"Wouldn't you be able for that yourself? or couldn't you bring your +father with you? I'd wish to put whatever I could in your way." + +"Thank you, sir, very much. I will do so if I want more help; but for +the lucre of keeping up his wages and mine, I would not recommend you +to lose this fine weather in covering in the drains." + +"You are an honest boy, Emon, and I like your way of talkin', as well +as workin'; plaise God we won't see you or your father idle." + +Up to this it will be seen that Emon was not idle in any sense of the +word. He was ingratiating himself, but honestly, into the good graces +of old Ned; "if he was not fishing, he was mending his nets;" and the +above conversation will show that he was not a dance at that same. + +It happened, upon one or two occasions, that old Ned was with Emon at +leaving off work in the evening, and he asked him to "cum' up to the +house and have a dhrink of beer, or whiskey-and-wather, his choice." + +But Emon excused himself, saying he was no fit figure to go into any +decent man's parlor in that trim, and indeed his appearance did not +belie his words; for he was spotted and striped with yellow clay, from +his head and face to his feet, and the clothes he brought to the work +were worth nothing. + +"Well, you'll not be always so, Emon, when you're done wid the +scoopin'," said old Ned; and he added, laughing, "The divil a wan o' +me'd know you to be the same boy I seen cumin' out o' mass a Sunda'." + +Emon had heard, as everybody else had heard, that Tom Murdock had left +home, and he felt as if an incubus had been lifted off his heart. Not +that he feared Tom in any one way; but he knew that his absence would +be a relief to Winny, and, as such, a relief to himself. + +Emon was now as happy as his position and his hopes permitted him to +be; and there can be little doubt but this happiness arose from an +understanding between himself and Winny; but how, when, or where that +understanding had been confirmed, it would be hard to say. + +Old Ned's remarks to his daughter respecting young Lennon were nuts +and apples to her. She knew the day would come, and perhaps at no far +distant time, when she must openly avow, not only a preference for +Emon, but declare an absolute determination to cast her lot with his, +and ask her father's blessing upon them. She was aware that this could +not, that it ought not to, be hurried. She hoped--oh, how fervently +she hoped!--that the report of Tom Murdock's marriage might be true: +that of his absence from home she knew to be so. In the meantime it +kept the happy smile for ever on her lips to know that Emon was daily +creeping into the good opinion of her father. Oh! how could Emon, her +own Emon, fail, not only to creep but to rush into the good opinion, +the very heart, of all who knew him? Poor enthusiastic Winny! But she +was right. With the solitary exception of Tom Murdock, there was not a +human being who knew him who did not love Edward Lennon. But where is +the man with Tom Murdock's heart, and in Tom Murdock's place, who +would not have hated him as he did? + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +Tom Murdock, seeing that his hopes by fair means were completely at an +end, and that matters were likely to progress in another quarter at a +rate which made it advisable not to let the leading horse get too far +ahead, {108} determined to make a rush to the front, no matter whether +he went the wrong side of a post or not--let that be settled after. + +He had left home, and left a report behind him, which he took care to +have industriously circulated, that he had gone to Armagh, and was +about to be married to "a young lady" with a large fortune, and that +he would visit the metropolis, Fermanagh, and perhaps Sligo, before he +returned. But he did not go further than an obscure public-house in a +small village in the lower part of the county of Cavan. There he met +the materials for carrying out his plan. The object of it was shortly +this--to carry away Winny Cavana by force, and bring her to a +_friend's_ house in the mountains behind the village adverted to. Here +he was to have an old buckle-beggar at hand to marry them the moment +Winny's spirit was broken to consent. This man, a degraded clergyman, +as the report went, wandered about the country in green spectacles and +a short, black cloak, always ready and willing to perform such a job; +doubly willing and ready for this particular one from the reward which +Tom had promised him. If even the marriage ceremony should fail, +either through Winny's obstinacy or the clergyman's want of spirit to +go through with it in the face of opposition, still he would keep her +for ten days or a fortnight at this _friend's_ house, stopping there +himself too; and at the end of that time, should he fail in obtaining +her consent, he would quit the country for a while, and allow her to +return home "so blasted in character" that even "that whelp" would +disown her. There was a pretty specimen of a lover--a husband! + +It was now the end of June. The weather had been dry for some time, +and the nights were clear and mild; the stars shone brightly, and the +early dawn would soon present a heavy dew hanging on the bushes and +the grass. The moon was on the wane; but at a late hour of the night +it was conspicuous in the heavens, adding a stronger light to that +given by the clearness of the sky and the brilliancy of the stars. + +Rathcash and Rathcashmore were sunk in still repose; and if silence +could be echoed, it was echoed by the stillness of the mountains +behind Shanvilla and beyond them. The inhabitants of the whole +district had long since retired to rest, and now lay buried in sleep, +some of them in confused dreams of pleasure and delight. + +The angel of the dawn was scarcely yet awake, or he might have heard +the sound of muffled horses' feet and muffled wheels creeping along +the road toward the lane turning up to Rathcash house, about two hours +before day; and he must have seen a man with a dark mask mounted on +another muffled horse at a little distance from the cart. + +Presently Tom Murdock--there is no use in simulating mystery where +none exists--took charge of the horse and cart to prevent them from +moving, while three men stole up toward the house. Ay, there is +Bully-dhu's deep bark, and they are already at the door. + +"That dog! he'll betray us, boys," said one of the men. + +"I'd blow his brains out if this pistol was loaded," said another; +"and I wanted Tom to give me a cartridge." + +"He wouldn't let any one load but himself, and he was right; a shot +would be twiste as bad as the dog; beside, he's in the back yard, and +cannot get out. Never heed him, but to work as fast as possible." + +Old Ned Cavana and Winny heard not only the dog, but the voices. +Winny's heart foretold the whole thing in a moment, and she braced her +nerves for the scene. + +The door was now smashed in, and the three men entered. By this time +old Ned had drawn on his trousers; and as he was throwing his coat +over his head to got his arms into the sleeves he was seized, and ere +you could count ten he was pinioned, with his arms behind him and his +legs tied {109} at the ankles, and a handkerchief tied across his +mouth. Thus rendered perfectly powerless, he was thrown back upon the +bed, and the room-door locked. Jamesy Doyle, who slept in the barn, +had heard the crash of the door, and dressed himself in "less than no +time," let Bully-dhu out of the yard, and brought him to the front +door, in at which he rushed like a tiger. But Jamesy Doyle did not go +in. That was not his game; but he peeped in at the window. No light +had been struck, so he could make nothing of the state of affairs +inside, except from the voices; and from what he heard he could make +no mistake as to the object of this attack. He could not tell whether +Tom Murdock was in the house or not, but he did not hear his voice. +One man said, "Come, now, be quick, Larry; the sooner we're off with +her the better." + +Jamesy waited for no more; he turned to the lane as the shortest way, +but at a glance he saw the horse and cart and the man on horseback on +the road outside; and turning again he darted off across the fields as +fast as his legs could carry him. + +Bully-dhu, having gained access to the house, showed no disposition to +compromise the matter. "No quarter!" was his cry, as he flew at the +nearest man to him, and seizing him by the throat, brought him to the +ground with a _sough_, where in spite of his struggles, he held him +fast with a silent, deadly grip. He had learned this much, at least, +by his encounter with the mastiff on New Year's day. + +Careless of their companion's strait, who they thought ought to be +able to defend himself, the other two fellows--and powerful fellows +they were--proceeded to the bed-room to their left; they had locked +the door to their right, leaving poor old Ned tied and insensible on +the bed. Winny was now dressed and met them at the door. + +"Are you come to commit murder?" she cried, as they stopped her in the +doorway; "or have you done it already? Let me to my father's room." + +"The sorra harm on him, miss, nor the sorra take the hair of his head +well hurt no more nor your own. Come, put on your bonnet an' cloak, +an' come along wid us; them's our ordhers." + +"You have a master, then. Where is he? where is Tom Murdock?--I knew +Tom _Murder_ should have been his name. Where is he, I say?" + +"Come, come, no talk; but on wid your bonnet and cloak at wanst." + +"Never; nor shall I ever leave this house except torn from it by the +most brutal force. Where is your master, I say? Is he afraid of the +rope himself which he would thus put round your necks?" + +"Come, come, on wid your bonnet an' cloak, or, be the powers, we'll +take you away as you are." + +"Never; where is your master, I say?" + +"Come, Larry, we won't put up wid any more of her pillaver; out wid +the worsted." + +Here Biddy Murtagh rushed in to her mistress's aid; but she was soon +overpowered and tied "neck and heels," as they called it, and thrown +upon Winny's bed. They had the precaution to gag her also with a +handkerchief, that she might not give the alarm, and they locked the +door like that at the other end of the house. + +Larry, whoever he was, then pulled a couple of skeins of coarse +worsted from his pocket, while his companion seized Winny round the +waist, outside her arms; and the other fellow, who seemed expert, soon +tied her feet together, and then her hands. A thick handkerchief was +then tied across her mouth. + +"Take care to lave plenty of braithin' room out iv her nose, Larry," +said the other ruffian; and, thus rendered unable to move or scream, +they carried her to the road and laid her on the car. The horseman in +the mask asked them where the third man was, and they replied that he +must have {110} "made off" from the dog, for that they neither saw nor +heard him after the dog flew at him. + +This was likely enough. He was the only man of the party in whom Tom +Murdock could not place the most unbounded confidence. + +"The cowardly rascal," he said. "We must do without him." + +But he had _not_ made off from the dog. + +The cart was well provided--_to do Tom Murdock justice_--with a +feather-bed over plenty of straw, and plenty of good covering to keep +out the night air. They started at a brisk trot, still keeping the +horses' feet and the wheels muffled; and they passed down the road +where the reader was once caught at a dog-fight. + +But to return, for a few minutes, to Rathcash house. Bully-dhu was +worth a score of old Ned Cavana, even supposing him to have been at +liberty, and free of the cords by which he was bound. The poor old man +had worked the handkerchief by which he had been gagged off his mouth, +by rubbing it against the bed-post. He had then rolled himself to the +door; but further than that he was powerless, except to ascertain, by +placing his chin to the thumb-latch, for he had got upon his feet, +that it was fastened outside. He then set up a lamentable demand for +help--upon Winny, upon Biddy Murtagh, and upon Bully-dhu. The dog was +the only one who answered him, with a smothered growl, for he still +held fast by the grip he had taken of the man's throat. Poor Bully! +you need not have been so pertinacious of that grip--the man has been +_dead_ for the last ten minutes! Finding that it was indeed so, from +the perfect stillness of the man, Bully-dhu released his hold, and lay +licking his paws and keeping up an angry growl, in answer to the old +man's cries. + +We must leave them and follow Jamesy Doyle across the fields, and see +if it was cowardice that made him run so fast from the scene of +danger. Ah, no! Jamesy was not that sort of a chap at all. He was +plucky as well as true to the heart's core. Nor was his intelligence +and judgment at fault for a moment as to the best course for him to +adopt. Seeing the fearful odds of three stout men against him, he knew +that he could do better than to remain there, to be tied "neck and +crop" like the poor old man and Biddy. So, having brought Bully-dhu +round and given him 'his cue, he started off, and never drew breath +until he found himself outside Emon-a-knock's window at Shanvilla, on +his way to the nearest police station. + +"Are you there, Emon?" said he, tapping at it. + +"Yes," Emon replied from his bed; "who are you, or what do you want?" + +"Jamesy Doyle from Rathcash house. Get up at wanst! They have taken +away Miss Winny." + +"Great heaven I do you say so? Here, father, get up in a jiffy and +dress yourself. They have taken away Winny Cavana, and we must be off +to the rescue like a shot. Come in, Jamesy, my boy." And while they +were "drawing on" their clothes, they questioned him as to the +particulars. + +But Jamesy had few such to give them, as the reader knows; for, like a +sensible boy, he was off for help without waiting for particulars. + +The principal point, however, was to know what road they had taken. +Upon this Jamesy was able to answer with some certainty, for ere he +had started finally off, he had watched them, and he had seen the cart +move on under the smothered cries of Winny; and he heard the horseman +say, "Now, boys, through the pass between 'the sisters.'" + +"They took the road to the left from the end of the lane, that's all I +know; so let you cut across the country as fast as you can, an' you'll +be at Boher before them. Don't delay me now, for I must go on to the +police station an' hurry out the sargent {111} and his men; if you can +clog them at the bridge till I cam' up with the police, all will be +rights an' we'll have her back wid us. I know very well if I had a +word wid Miss Winny unknown to the men, she would have sent me for the +police; but I took you in my way--it wasn't twenty perch of a round." + +"Thank you, Jamesy, a thousand times! There, be off to the sergeant as +fast as you can; tell him you called here, and that I have calculated +everything in my mind, and for him and his men to make for +Boher-na-Milthiogue bridge as fast as possible. There, be off, Jamesy, +and I'll give you a pound-note if the police are at the bridge before +Tom Murdock comes through the pass with the cart." + +"You may keep your pound, man! I'd do more nor that for Miss Winny." +And he was out of sight in a moment. + +The father and son were now dressed, and, arming themselves with two +stout sticks, they did not "let the grass grow under their feet." They +hurried on until they came to the road turning down to where we have +indicated that our readers were once caught at a dog-fight. Here Emon +examined the road as well as he could by the dim light which +prevailed, and found the fresh marks of wheels. He could scarcely +understand them. They were not like the tracks of any wheels he had +ever seen before, and there were no tracks of horses' feet at all, +although Jamesy had said there was a horseman beside the horse and +cart. + +Emon soon put down these unusual appearances--and he could not well +define them for want of light--to some cunning device of Tom Murdock; +and how right he was! + +"Come on, father," said he. "I am quite certain they have gone down +here. I know Tom Murdock has plenty of associates in the county Cavan, +and the pass between 'the sisters' is the shortest way he can take. +Beside, Jamesy heard him say the words. Our plan must be to cut across +the country and get to Milthiogue bridge before they get through the +pass and so escape us. What say you, father--are you able and willing +to push on, and to stand by me? Recollect the odds that are against +us, and count the cost." + +"Emon, I'll count nothing; but I'll-- + +"Here, father, in here at this gap, and across by the point of Mullagh +hill beyond; we must get to Boher before them." + +"I'll count no cost, Emon, I was going to tell you. I'm both able and +willing, thank God, to stand by you. You deserve it well of me, and so +do the Cavanas. God forbid I should renuage my duty to you and them! +Aren't ye all as wan as the same thing to me now?" + +Emon now knew that his father knew all about Winny and him. + +"Father," said he, "that is a desperate man, and he'll stop at +nothing." + +"Is it sthrivin' to cow me you are, Emon?" + +"No, father; but you saw the state my mother was in as we left." + +"Yes, I did, and why wouldn't she? But shure that should not stop us +when we have right on our side; an' God knows what hoult, or distress, +that poor girl is in, or what that villain may do to her; an' what +state would your mother be in if you were left a desolate madman all +your life through that man's wickedness?" + +These were stout words of his father, and almost assured Emon that all +would be well. + +"Father," he continued, "if we get to the bridge before them, and can +hold it for half an hour, or less, the police will be up with Jamesy +Doyle, and we shall be all right." + +The conversation was now so frequently interrupted in getting over +ditches and through hedges, and they had said so much of what they had +to say, that they were nearly quite silent for the rest of the way, +except where Emon pointed out to his father the easiest place to get +over a ditch, or through a hedge, or up the face of a {112} hill. Both +their hearts were evidently in their journey. No less the father's +than the son's: the will made the way. + +The dappled specks of red had still an hour to slumber ere the dawn +awoke, and they had reached the spot; there was the bridge, the +Boher-na-Milthiogue of our first chapter, within a stone's throw of +them. They crept to the battlement and peered into the pass. As yet no +sound of horse or cart, or whispered word, reached their ears. + +"They must be some distance off yet, father," said Emon; "thank God! +The police will have the more time to be up." + +"Should we not hide, Emon?" + +"Certainly; and if the police come up before they do, they should hide +also. That villain is mounted; and if a strong defence of the pass was +shown too soon, he would turn and put spurs to his horse." + +As he spoke a distant noise was heard of horses' feet and unmuffled +wheels. The muffling had all been taken off as soon as they had +reached the far end of the pass between the mountains, and they were +now hastening their speed. + +"The odds will be fearfully against us, father," said Emon, who now +felt more than ever the dangerous position he had placed his father +in, and the fearful desolation his loss would cause in his mother's +heart and in his home. He felt no fear for himself. "You had better +leave Tom himself to me, father. I know he will be the man on +horseback. Let you lay hold of the horse's head under the cart, and +knock one of the men, or both, down like lightning, if you can. You +have your knife ready to cut the cords that tie her?" + +"I have, Emon; and don't you fear me; one of them shall tumble at all +events, almost before they know that we are on them. I hope I may kill +him out an' out; we might then be able for the other two. Do you think +Tom is armed?" he added, turning pale. But it was so dark Emon did not +see it. + +"I am not sure, but I think not He cannot have expected any +opposition." + +"God grant it, Emon! I don't want to hould you back, but don't be +'fool-hardy,' dear boy." + +"Do you want to cow me, father, as you said yourself, just now?" + +"No, Emon. But stoop, stoop, here they are." + +Crouching behind the battlements of the bridge, these two resolute men +waited the approach of the cavalcade. As they came to the mouth of the +pass the elder Lennon sprang to the head of the horse under the cart, +and, seizing him with his left hand, struck the man who drove such a +blow as felled him from the shaft upon which he sat. Emon had already +seized the bridle of the horseman who still wore the mask, and pushing +the horse backward on his haunches, he made a fierce blow at the +rider's head with his stick. But he had darted his heels--spurs he +had none--into his horse's sides, which made him plunge forward, +rolling Emon on the ground. Forward to the cart the rider then rushed, +crying out, "On, on with the cart!" But Lennon's father was still +fastened on the horse's head with his left hand, while with his right +he was alternately defending himself against the two men, for the +first had somewhat recovered, who were in charge of it. + +Tom Murdock would have ridden him down also, and turned the battle in +favor of a passage through; but Emon had regained his feet, and was +again fastened in the horse's bridle, pushing him back on his +haunches, hoping to get at the rider's head, for hitherto his blows +had only fallen upon his arms and chest. Here Tom Murdock felt the +want of the spurs, for his horse did not spring forward with life and +force enough upon his assailant. + +A fearful struggle now ensued between them. The men at the cart had +not yet cleared their way from the {113} desperate opposition given +them by old Lennon, who defendant himself ably, and at the same time +attacked them furiously. He had not time, however, to cut the cords by +which Winny was bound. A single pause in the use of his stick for that +purpose would have been fatal. Neither had he been successful in +getting beyond his first position at the horse's head. During the +whole of this confused attack and defence, poor Winny Cavana, who had +managed to shove herself up into a sitting posture in the cart, +continued to cry out, "Oh, Tom Murdock, Tom Murdock! even now give me +up to these friends and be gone, and I swear there shall never be a +word more about it." + +But Tom Murdock was not the man either to yield to entreaties, or to +be baffled in his purpose. He had waled Edward Lennon with the butt +end of his whip about the head and shoulders as well as he could +across his horse's head, which Lennon had judiciously kept between +them, at times making a jump up and striking at Tom with his stick. + +Matters had now been interrupted too long to please Tom Murdock, and +darting his heels once more into his horse's sides, he sprang forward, +rolling young Lennon on the road again. + +"All right now, lads!" he cried; "on, on with the cart!" and he rode +at old Lennon, who still held his ground against both his antagonists +manfully. + +But all was not right. A cry of "The police, the police!" issued from +one of the men at the cart, and Jamesy Doyle with four policemen were +seen hurrying up the boreen from the lower road. + +Perhaps it would be unjust to accuse Tom Murdock of cowardice even +then--it was not one of his faults--if upon seeing an accession of +four armed policemen he turned to fly, leaving his companions in for +it. One of them fled too; but Pat Lennon held the other fast. + +As Tom turned to traverse the mountain pass back again at full speed, +Lennon, who had recovered himself, sprang like a tiger once more at +the horse's head. Now or never he must stay his progress. + +Tom Murdock tore the mask from his face, and, pulling a loaded pistol +from his breast, he said: "Lennon, it was not my intention to injure +you when I saw you first spring up from the bridge to-night; nor will +I do so now, if your own obstinacy and foolhardy madness does not +bring your doom upon yourself. Let go my horse, or by hell I'll blow +your brains out! this shall be no mere tip of the hurl, mind you." And +he levelled the pistol at his head, not more than a foot from his +face. + +"Never, with life!" cried Lennon; and he aimed a blow at Tom's +pistol-arm. Ah, fatal and unhappy chance! His stick had been raised to +strike Tom Murdock down, and he had not time to alter its direction. +Had he struck the pistol-arm upward, it might have been otherwise; but +the blow of necessity descended. Tom Murdock fired at the same moment, +and the only difference it made was, that instead of his brains having +been blown out, the ball entered a little to one side of his left +breast. + +Lennon jumped three feet from the ground, with a short, sudden shout, +and rolled convulsively upon the road, where soon a pool of bloody mud +attested the murderous work which had been done. + +The angel of the dawn now awoke, as he heard the report of the pistol +echoing and reverberating through every recess in the many hearts of +Slieve-dhu and Slieve-bawn. Tom Murdock fled at full gallop; and the +hearts of the policemen fell as they heard the clattering of his +horse's feet dying away in quadruple regularity through the mountain +pass. + +Jamesy Doyle, who was light of foot and without shoe or stocking, +rushed forward, saying, "Sergeant, I'll follow him to the end of the +pass, {114} an' see what road he'll take." And he sped onward like a +deer. + +"Come, Maher," said the sergeant, "we'll pursue, however hopeless. +Cotter, let you stop with the prisoner we have and the Young woman; +and let Donovan stop with the wounded man, and stop the blood if he +can." + +Sergeant Driscol and Maher then started at the top of their speed, in +the track of Jamesy Doyle, in full pursuit. + +There were many turns and twists in the pass between the mountains. It +was like a dozen large letter S's strung together. + +Driscol stopped for a moment to listen. Jamesy was beyond their ken, +round one or two of the turns, and they could not hear the horse +galloping now. + +"All's lost," said the sergeant; "he's clean gone. Let us hasten on +until we meet the boy; perhaps he knows which road he took." + +Jamesy had been stooping now and then, and peering into the coming +lights to keep well in view the man whom he pursued. Ay, there he was, +sure enough; he saw him, almost plainly, galloping at the top of his +speed. Suddenly he' heard a crash, and horse and rider rolled upon +the ground. + +"He's down, thank God!" cried Jamesy, still rushing forward with some +hope, and peering into the distance. Presently he saw the horse trot +on with his head and tail in the air, without his rider, while a dark +mass lay in the centre of the road. + +"You couldn't have betther luck, you bloodthirsty ruffian, you!" said +Jamesy, who thought that it was heaven's lightning that, in justice, +had struck down Tom Murdock; and he maintained the same opinion ever +afterward. At present, however, he had not time to philosophize upon +the thought, but rushed on. + +Soon he came to the dark mass upon the road. It was Tom Murdock who +lay there stunned and insensible, but not seriously hurt by the fall. +There was nothing of heaven's lightning in the matter at all. It was +the common come-down of a stumbling horse upon a bad mountain road; +but the result was the same. + +Jamesy was proceeding to thank God again, and to tie his legs, when +Tom came to. + +Jamesy was sorry the man's _thrance_ did not last a little longer, +that he might have tied him, legs and arms. With his own handkerchief +and suspenders. But he was late now, and not quite sure that Tom +Murdock would not murder him also, and "make off afoot." + +Here Jamesy thought he heard the hurried step of the police coming +round the last turn toward him, and as Tom was struggling to his feet, +a bright thought struck him. He "whipt" out a penknife he had in his +pocket, and, before Tom had sufficiently recovered to know what he was +about, he had cut his suspenders, and given the waist-band of his +trousers a _slip_ of the knife, opening it more than a foot down the +back. + +Tom had now sufficiently recovered to understand what had happened, +and to know the strait he was in. He had a short time before seen a +man named Wolff play Richard III. in a barn in C.O.S.; and if he did +not roar lustily, "A horse, a horse! my kingdom for a horse!" he +thought it. But his horse was nearly half a mile away, where a green +spot upon the roadside tempted him to delay a little his journey home. + +Tom was not yet aware of the approach of the police. He made a +desperate swipe of his whip, which he still held in his hand, at the +boy, and sprung to his feet. But Jamesy avoided the blow by a side +jump, and kept roaring, "Police, police!" at the top of his voice. Tom +now found that he had been outwitted by this young boy. He was so +hampered by his loose trousers about his heels that he could make no +run for it, and soon became the prisoner of Sergeant Driscol and his +companion. Well done, Jamesy! + + + + +TO BE CONTINUED. + + +{115} + +Translated from Le Monde Catholique. + +FREDERICK HURTER. + + +Frederick Hurter, the illustrious historian of Pope Innocent III., +died on the 27th of August, 1865, in Gratz, Austria, in the +sevens-eighth year of his age. Of all the great Catholic characters +which we have lost during the past year, there were undoubtedly very +few who have shed a greater brilliancy on our era, and still our loss +has, comparatively, passed unnoticed. Germany has certainly paid some +homage to the memory of that great Christian; but outside that country +almost general silence has enshrouded his tomb. In France, for +example, not more than three or four religious newspapers have devoted +to him even a few lines, and these all derived from a common source, +and we should not be surprised if many of our own readers should now +learn for the first time, from this notice, the death of a man so +justly celebrated. + +To what, then, have we to ascribe this forgetfulness or indifference? +Perhaps a simple comparison of dates will account for it. Hurter died, +as we have stated, in the latter part of August, and La Moricière in +the early part of the following month. It is therefore natural to +conjecture that the memory of the great historian was almost +forgotten, or for the time absorbed, in the midst of the extraordinary +manifestations and triumphal funeral ceremonies which have honored the +remains of the immortal vanquished of Castelfidardo. It must be +admitted, however, that such was not just; it would have been better +to allow to each his legitimate share of respect, and, without +derogating from the glory of La Moricière, render also to Hurter the +honor to which he was so justly entitled. Beside, their names were +destined to be associated, for both have fought under the same flag, +although in a different manner. Both have been the champions of the +Papal See, one with his brave sword and the other with his not less +brave pen; and both have left magnificent footprints in the religious +annals of the nineteenth century. + +Another explanation of this apparent neglect, more natural and perhaps +more truthful, might be found in the character of Frederick Hurter +itself, and in that of his last writings. A long time previous to his +death he had achieved the zenith of his fame; the latter part of his +long life being devoted to learned studies of undoubted merit and +immense advantage, but which have not had the same general attraction +as his earlier productions, particularly with the French people. We +freely acknowledge that this fact does but little credit to the +Catholic mind of France, but it is nevertheless undeniable. A kind of +comparative obscurity has covered with us the latter portion of +Hurter's life, and this, in our opinion, is the principal reason that +the news of his death has not created a deeper sensation in this +country. + +In order to repair, as far as it lies in our power, this injustice +which the Catholics of Germany might well consider unfair or +ungrateful, we would like to render, in these few pages, at least a +feeble homage to the illustrious dead. We desire to gather together a +few of the glorious remembrances which are associated with his name, +and, above all, to point out that insatiable love of truth and justice +which {116} was the distinguishing feature of his character and which +seems to have pervaded his whole being under all circumstances and at +all times. + +Frederick Emmanuel Hurter was born of Protestant parents on the 19th +of May, 1787, in Schaffhausen, Switzerland. His father was prefect of +Lugano; his mother remarkable for her intellect as well as for her +decision of character, having sprung from the noble family of the +Zieglers. When scarcely six years old, the child was deeply moved at +hearing an account of the execution of Louis the Sixteenth, and before +he had attained the age of twelve years he had conceived such a +distaste for the excesses of the revolutionary spirit then prevailing +that it seems never to have forsaken him. At this early age he was an +eager student of the "History of the Seven Years' War," and declared +himself in favor of Maria Theresa and against the King of Prussia. Two +years afterward a discussion having arisen between himself, his +school-fellows, and his teacher, on the relative merits of Pompey and +Caesar, he promptly and energetically took the part of the former, +believing that in the character of the latter was to be seen the +personification of the revolutionary spirit. These were the first +germs of that admirable sense of right which distinguished him on all +occasions. There could even then be foreseen in that child the future +man destined at some day to be the defender of the most august power +in the world. + +From his youth upward, and doubtless from the same feeling of being +right, he applied himself with marked attention to ascertain the true +history of that most misrepresented epoch, the middle ages, its +monastic institutions, and its great pontiffs. Of the latter St. +Gregory VII. seemed to have most attracted him, and his youthful mind +seems to have delighted in comparing him with the great men of ancient +Rome. + +Having finished his preliminary studies in his native town, Hurter +studied in the different classes of theology at the University of +Göttingen, whence he obtained his diploma, and, having been first +appointed pastor of an obscure village, was soon removed to +Schaffhausen. + +In 1824 he was appointed chancellor of the consistory; but neither his +theological studies nor the duties of his office as pastor, a calling +he had embraced through deference for his father rather than from +personal inclination, diverted him from the object of his early +predilections. Thus, while at Göttingen he found leisure to write a +"History of Theodoric, King of the Ostrogoths." It was his first essay +as historian, being at the time only twenty years old. + +Later he wrote a book on the following subject, proposed by the +National Institute of France: "The Civil State during the Government +of the Goths, and the Fundamental Principles of the Legislation of +Theodoric and his Successors." But this work remained among his +manuscripts unpublished. It was at Schaffhausen that he resumed his +favorite studies on the middle ages, and completed them. His great +attraction was not, as might be expected, Gregory VII., but Innocent +III., probably on account of a collection of letters written by that +great pontiff, published by Baluze, and which he had formerly bought +at public sale at Göttingen. He certainly had not then the remotest +idea that that book would at some future day form the foundation of +his fame, and the means of a radical change in his Christian and +social life. He commenced his book on Innocent III. in 1818, but it +was not until 1833 that the first volume appeared. The second was +published the year following. In 1835 he became president of the +consistory, an office which placed him at the head of the clergy of +his district, and which he resigned after fulfilling its duties for +six years. He published the third volume of his "History of Pope +Innocent" in the meantime, and in {117} 1842 the fourth and last +volume was given to the press. + +This "History" was not only a great literary success, it was more. It +produced a decided revolution in historical science. The effect of it +in Switzerland, Germany, and in fact the whole of Europe, was immense. +The extraordinary part enacted by that great Pope was seen for the +first time in its proper light. By the irresistible logic of facts, +Hurler demonstrated how the august institutions of the papacy +accomplished its mission with a success which, up to his time, had +never been conjectured. Every one became convinced that it was the +papacy alone that had mastered and tempered the overwhelming forces of +the half-civilized nations of Europe, in order to more eternal and +spiritual ends. "Since then," says Hurter himself, in his preface to +the third German edition of his first volume, page 21, "a great number +of inveterate errors were corrected, many traditional prejudices +dissipated, many doubts removed; certain minds drew light therefrom, +others found a guide in it, and others attained _conviction_ from its +pages. Comparing the present with the past, people became more +circumspect in their judgments and less inconsistent in their +conclusions, and at last an answer was found to the famous question of +the Roman governor, "What is truth?" (_Quid est veritas?_) "Truth is +what is based on the indisputable proofs of history and agrees with +the nature of all things." Sebastian Brunner, a distinguished German +writer, after reading the "History of Innocent III.," gave the +following opinion of its author: "I hold Mr. Hurter to be the greatest +of historians; no one previous to him embraces a whole century in so +admirable a picture. Hurter is the apostolic historian of the +nineteenth century." This apostleship of Frederick Hurter was the more +efficient, being exercised by a Protestant, and, what was more, by the +president of a consistory. And beside, who would not yield to the +testimony of a man whose loyalty and integrity were above all +suspicion, and who had made it the rule of his life to observe the +most rigid impartiality in all his own views; to seek nothing but the +truth, and to honor virtue and merit wherever met, without excepting +those who differed from him, so as to neglect nothing in the +accomplishment of his task in the most perfect possible manner? His +indeed were admirable qualities, particularly when we consider how +history was written in those times by writers looked upon as models +and masters. But let us not enlarge on this topic; the "History of +Innocent" is found in every library; let us rather show how that book +earned for its author a reward far greater than mere worldly +reputation. + +His literary success, and, what was more, the undeniable services he +had rendered to the Catholic cause, could not but excite the jealousy +and dislike of his fellow Protestants. His "Excursion to Vienna and +Presburg," which was published soon after he visited Austria, in 1839, +excited their anger to the highest degree. Blinded by their passions, +they resolved to put him on trial, so as to find him guilty and so +depose him. In his "Exposé of the Motives of his Conversion" he states +that they put him the unfair question, "Are you a Protestant at +heart?" "This question," he continues, "had no relation whatever with +the alleged facts bearing on my public office, but only with my +'History of Innocent III.' and with a visit to Vienna. I refused to +answer, because they wanted rather to discover what I disbelieved than +what I believed." This refusal excited a violent storm of indignation +against him. After trying many times to avert it, and after suffering +the most unworthy attacks with patience and fortitude, he seized his +pen and fulminated his defense under the following title, "President +Hurter and his Pretended Colleagues." + +More painful trials still awaited him. Two of his daughters, one +immediately after the other, became afflicted with {118} a malady +which was soon to deprive him of them, and, while prayers for their +recovery were being offered up in all the Catholic convents of +Switzerland, his puritanical opponents exhibited the most uncharitable +joy, thrusting the dagger of grief still further into a parent's +heart. A less energetic character would doubtless have succumbed to +such cruel wounds, but Hurter remained true to the maxim of the poet: + + "Justum et tenacem propositi virum + Non civium ardor, prava jubentium, + Non vultus instantis _tyranni_ + Mente quatit solida. . ." + +"The race of those tyrants is not yet extinct," he somewhere says. "I +find still men who desire every one to bow before them, and that +everything they do against those who dare discard such a miserable +servitude should be commended." [Footnote 21] Hurter did better than +to imitate the ancient philosopher; he accepted his trials with truly +Christian resignation, perceiving in them the call of God to newer and +higher duties. "I discovered in them," he writes, "the means of my +salvation and my sanctification. I look upon the storm which has burst +over me as a signal on the road I have to follow. At the same time I +received the deep conviction that no peace was to be expected with +such people. My choice was therefore made. I threw off titles, +offices, and incomes, and went back to private life because I was +disgusted with a sect which, through rationalism, upset all Christian +dogmas, and, through pietism, tramples morals under foot." [Footnote +22] What hearty frankness, what Noble feelings, and what a true sense +of justice! + + [Footnote 21: Third ed., 1st vol. (Pref. P. V.)] + + [Footnote 22: "Life of Fr. Hurter," by A. de Saint Cheron, p. 120. + Some of the details of this article are extracted from this work, as + well as from an article published in "Le Catholique" of Mayence, of + September, 1865.] + + +Justice he demanded as well for others as for himself; therefore he +did not fear to defend the Catholic cause in his books. In his work on +the "Convents of Argovia and their Accusers" (1841), and on the +"Persecutions of the Catholic Church in Switzerland" (1843), he +denounces the tyranny of his Protestant compatriots in unmeasured +terms. For this reason, also, he went to Paris in 1843 to plead, +although in vain, the cause of the Catholics in Switzerland. + +Having, as we have seen, resigned his position, he had ample leisure +to devote himself to the more profound study of the Catholic doctrine, +the dogmas of which he had already inwardly admitted. The "Symbolism" +of Moehler he found of great utility, and the "Exposition of the Holy +Mass," by Innocent III., served greatly to strengthen his religious +convictions. + +Hurter, however, was not precipitate. He desired that in taking so +important a step conviction should be preceded by mature deliberation. +About this time he writes: "He would certainly be mistaken who should +think that I entered the _interior_ of the Catholic Church because I +was solely led away by its external forms. I was neither a wanderer +nor hair-brained. Undoubtedly the exterior impressed me; but I was +not, however, therefore relieved from examining its fundamental +principles with due care, or from studying the interior with proper +caution. I entered it first through curiosity, a mere visitor, as it +were, and I examined everything that I saw like one who, wanting to +purchase a house, first looks closely at every part of it before +closing the bargain. In that way I think I acquired, on many points, +truer and more complete ideas than the frequenters of the house, and +those who have spent their lives in it. I have too long postponed my +free decision not to have earned the right to be able to decide +whether the house suits me or not, or if any changes be required." + +It is interesting to see, in his "Exposition of Motives," the +narration of all the doubts under which he labored previous to making +a final decision; how his mind gradually approached to a knowledge of +the truth as he progressed in his investigation; how a thousand +external circumstances, designed by Providence, powerfully {119} +contributed to shake his will, and finally how his conversion was less +his own work than the effect of that divine favor solicited by +Catholic charity, of which he speaks so feelingly in his "Geburt und +Wiedergebart." + +The struggle was at last over. On the 16th of June, the feast of St. +Francis Regis, he formally made his abjuration before Cardinal Ostini, +formerly nuncio in Switzerland, at the Roman college, and five days +afterward, on the feast of St. Louis de Gonzaga, he received the +blessed sacrament in the presence of an immense congregation of the +faithful. The prophetic words of Gregory XVI. were then confirmed: +"_Spero che lei sera mio figlio_" (I hope that one day you will be my +son). The church and her head numbered one child more. God had thus +rewarded by his grace the perfect sincerity which the humble penitent +had ever made the rule of his life. We may also be allowed to believe +that the sweet protection of the Mother of God had efficaciously +operated in his favor, for even while a Protestant he had many times +pleaded her cause with his brethren. + +The news of his conversion created quite different feelings. If the +great Catholic family rejoiced, and with unanimous voice thanked God +for having favorably heard their prayers, Protestantism felt wounded +to the very heart. The reason is easily understood. The edifying +example of humility exhibited by a man like Hurter was necessary to +win over a great number of souls until then irresolute and wavering, +as some planets attract their satellites in space. + +As to him, full of gratitude toward God, his soul replete with light +and peace, his head high and serene, he went back to his native town +to resume his literary labors in retirement, as well as to undergo a +series of new persecutions, the last consecration of the Christian. "I +am not so narrow-minded," he wrote some time afterward, "that I did +not expect wicked judgments, base calumnies, and every kind of insult. +Facts have, however, far exceeded my anticipations, and I must confess +that I did not think those men capable of going so far in their +wickedness." Finally it became impossible for Hurter to remain longer +at Schaffhausen, and, beside, a new and better career was soon opened +for him. He received from Vienna an invitation to become the +historiographer of the empire. He accepted the appointment and entered +upon the fulfilment of its duties. Safe from the interruptions caused +by the troubles of 1848, he soon after accepted the position, of privy +councillor and the patent of nobility which were tendered him. + +The last portion of his life was devoted to the practice of Christian +virtues and to the completion of his great work on Ferdinand II. To +this book he devoted twenty years' arduous labor, and was fortunate +enough to complete it one year previous to his death. + +In commencing this work Hurter collected all his powerful faculties, +intending to display in its composition all that remarkable mental +energy with which he had been gifted by nature. With incredible +patience he examined one after another thousands of documents of all +kinds long buried in the archives of the empire, and most of which +were utterly unknown even to the learned. He could not understand to +be history that which was not supported by undeniable documents. _Quod +non est in actis, non est in mundo_, was his maxim--a maxim, alas! +which is too often neglected by the generality of our modern +historians. Nothing excelled his perseverance, I might almost say his +rapture, when he desired to throw light on an obscure fact, to fill a +hiatus, or to discover any historical truth. Never, perhaps, were +scruples of accuracy, and at the same time independence of thought and +courage in expression, carried to greater limits. Let us add, that +when composing the "History of Ferdinand II." he was filled with a +strong sympathy for his subject, and {120} in his admiration for that +great man he could, like Tacitus, console himself with the sight of +like grievances, and say with the Roman historian: _Ego hoc quoque +laboris praemium petam, ut me a conspectu malorum, quae nostra tot per +annos vidit aetas, tantisper, aum prisca illa tota mente repeto, +avertam, omnis expers curae quae scribentis animum, etsi non flectere +a vero, sollicitum tamen efficere possit._ + +This work of Hurter's consists of eleven volumes. The first seven +comprise the history of events from the reign of Archduke Charles, +father of Ferdinand II., to the coronation of the latter prince; the +remaining four being exclusively devoted to the reign of Ferdinand. In +this comprehensive review of the events of that epoch the illustrious +author has shown, by the light of true history, the great emperor and +all the principal personages by whom he was surrounded, or in any way +connected; particularly portraying the Archduke Charles, the +Archduchess Maria, that splendid model of a Christian mother, Gustavus +Adolphus of Sweden, Tilly, and Wallenstein. Hurter studied the +character of the latter with particular zeal, first in his sketch of +the "Material to be used for the History of Wallenstein" (1855), and +then in the more elaborate monography, "The last Four Years of +Wallenstein" (1862), and finally in the "History of Ferdinand" itself. +He arrives at the conclusion that the Duke of Friedland had really +been guilty of treason, and that his tragic end is in no way to be +attributed to Ferdinand. At the same time he does full justice to the +great qualities of Wallenstein, acknowledging in him great capacity +for organization, wonderful activity, and almost regal liberality; nor +does he hesitate to class him among not only the greatest men of his +age, but of all time. + +But, as may be well understood, his great central figure was +Ferdinand, whom he considers a most admirable and accomplished type of +all the virtues surrounding royalty, notwithstanding his memory has +been burthened with such foul calumnies by Protestant historians and +their copyists. To relieve his name from these unjust aspersions was a +task worthy of the genius of the historian of Innocent III. Having +shown in the life of that pontiff the true embodiment of the Christian +principles of the supreme priesthood, should he not also point out a +temporal prince as the personification of genuine Catholic royalty? + +We would desire to reproduce here the incomparable portrait of +Ferdinand as it has been drawn by Hurter in his last volume, but, +unfortunately, the limits of this article do not permit it. What +compensates us, in some measure, for being able to give only so feeble +an idea of that great work is, that we hope soon to see the _studies_ +undertaken to speak of it more fully. We hope also that a competent +translator will be soon found to give to France that work which, with +the "History of Innocent III.," will immortalize the name of Hurter. + +Yes, the great historian shall live in his writings, in which he has +shown a soul so strong, so firm, so just, so humble, and yet so proud; +so earnestly devoted to truth and so deeply adverse to falsehood, +meanness, and hypocrisy. He will live in those countless works of +charity of which he was the ever efficient author. He will live in the +remembrance of so many hearts he has edified by his pious example, +strengthened by his advice, and brought back to the true path by his +admonitions. He will live, also, in the perpetual and grateful regard +of a company, always so dear to him, to which he has given one of his +sons, and whose motto he was proud to quote on the frontispiece of his +great work. _Ad majorem Dei gloriam_. + +We will end this sketch by repeating the words which an apostolic +missionary, now a cardinal, once applied to the great historian; they +cannot be {121} better or more happily chosen to sum up his whole +life. Twenty years ago, after being a witness to his conversion, the +Abbé de Bonnechose, writing from Rome, says of him: "_Justum deduxit +Dominus per vias rectas et ostendit illi regnum Dei, et dedit illi +scientiam sanctorum; honestavit illum in laboribus et complevit +labores illius_" (Sap. x.) Yes, Hurter's mind was right, and God led +him by the hand. He has shown him his kingdom on earth, the church of +Christ, and the chair of Peter, where his authority sits enthroned, +where he speaks and governs in the person of his vicar. It was he who +endowed him with a knowledge of the science and philosophy of his +doctrine and of the divine mysteries of the faith, and inspired in him +those noble ideas the end and aim of which ought always to be the +worship and exaltation of the true church, and the defence of the +pontificate when calumniated. He has blessed the labors which have +been conducted with such success, filling them with spirit and energy, +to the end that they may bear the fruits of immortality! _Honestavit +illum in laboribus et complevit labores illius._ + +J. MARTINOF. + +------ + +WORDS OF WISDOM. + +TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE BY DR. BOWRING. + + To seek relief from doubt in doubt, + From woe in woe, from sin in sin-- + Is but to drive a tiger out, + And let a hungry wolf come in. + + Who helps a knave in knavery. + But aids an ape to climb a tree! + On an ape's head a crown you fling; + Say--Will that make the ape a king? + + Know you why the lark's sweet lay + Man's divinest nature reaches? + He is up at break of day + Learning all that nature teaches. + + The record of past history brings + Wisdom of sages, saints, and kings; + The more we read those reverend pages + The more we honor bygone ages! + + Whate'er befit--whate'er befal. + One general law commandeth all: + There's no confusion in the springs + That move all sublunary things. + All harmony is heaven's vast plan-- + All discord is the work of man! + +{122} + + +From The Sixpenny Magazine. + +IRELAND AND THE INFORMERS OF 1798. + + +There has lately issued from the press a work under the title which +heads our article, and which is amusing and instructive in the highest +degree. Were it not written by a man whose ability and character are +pledges for his veracity, we should rank it with Harrison Ainsworth's +efforts, and designate it as an almost impossible romance. It has, as +we think, appeared at a very opportune and timely juncture, and, in +our opinion, Mr. Fitzpatrick is entitled to great praise for the +talent, industry, and research evidenced in his volume. + +Francis Higgins, the hero of Mr. Fitzpatrick's remarkable biographical +sketch, and familiarly known by the title of "The Sham Squire," was +born nobody exactly knows where, and reared nobody knows how. He +commenced his career, however, in stirring times, and when great +events were in their parturition, during which the history of Ireland +presents a series of panoramic images--a mixture of light and +shadow--instances of devoted fidelity and abounding rascality-- +groupings of mistaken enthusiasm, selfish venality, and the most +abhorrent domestic treason--such as we in vain look for in the annals +of any other country or any other age. It is supposed that Higgins was +born in a Dublin cellar, and while yet of tender years became +successively "errand-boy, shoeblack, and waiter in a +public-house"--improving trades for one of so ripe a spirit, but which +he soon left, directed by a vaulting ambition, in order to become a +writing-clerk in an attorney's office. While in this position, he +commenced practice on his own account, by rejecting popery as +unfashionable and impolitic, and by forging a series of legal +documents purporting to show to all "inquiring friends" that he was a +man of property and a government official. He had an object in this, +as he was by this time to appear in a new character, as the lover of +Miss Mary Anne Archer, who possessed a tolerable fortune and a foolish +old father. Miss Archer happened to be a Roman Catholic, and was +strong in her faith; but this was only a trifle to Higgins, who again +forsook the new creed for the old, and proved thereby, like Richard, +"a thriving wooer." They were married, and the Archer _père_ did at +last what he ought to have done at first, ferreted out the real +antecedents of his precious son-in-law, and discovered that he had a +very clever fellow to deal with; while his daughter, finding, after a +short time, that her husband was "by no means a desirable one," fled +back to her bamboozled parent, who straightway indicted the pretender. +Higgins was found guilty and imprisoned for a year, and it was during +Judge Robinson's charge to the jury that he fastened the name of the +"Sham Squire" on the prisoner, a sobriquet which stuck to him +persistently during the remainder of his life, and proved a greater +infliction to his vanity than an apparently heavier penalty would have +been. This was in 1767. "Poor Mary Anne" died of a broken heart, and +her parents survived her for only a short lime; while the widower, in +order to make his prison life endurable, paid his addresses to the +daughter of the gaoler and eventually married her, as her father was +pretty well to do in the world, the situation being a {123} +money-making one, as the order of that day was, as proved before the +Irish House of Commons, that "persons were unlawfully kept in prison +and loaded with irons, although not duly committed by a magistrate, +until they had complied with the most exorbitant demands." When the +Sham's term of a year's imprisonment ended, he had life to begin anew, +and for some years we find him exercising many vocations, such as +"setter" for excise officers, billiard-marker, hosier, etc. For an +assault as a "setter," he was again tried and again convicted; but +nothing daunted, as his old webs were broken, he proceeded in the +construction of new. In 1775, we not only find him "a hosier," but +president of the Guild of Hosiers; and in 1780 his services were +engaged by Mr. David Gibbal, conductor of the "Freeman's Journal," +then, as now, one of the most popular and well-conducted papers in +Ireland. But from the period of the Sham Squire's connection with it, +it seems to have degenerated, as in April, 1784, the journals of the +Irish House of Commons show an "order" that "Francis Higgins, one of +the conductors of the 'Freeman's Journal,' do attend this house +to-morrow morning." He did so, and escaped with a reproof. Having +gained some knowledge of law in the solicitor's office, we now find +him anxious to become an attorney, which end he accomplished by the +aid and influence of his friend and patron John Scott, afterward +chief-justice, and elevated to the peerage as Lord Clonmel, rather for +his political talents than his professional ones. From 1784 to 1787 +Higgins also acted as deputy coroner for Dublin. By a series of +manoeuvres he became the sole proprietor of the "Freeman's Journal," +and became at once what is called in Ireland "a castle hack." Both as +attorney and editor, the Sham Squire was now a man of importance, and +many called in on him. Shrewd, sharp, and clever, with a glib tongue +and a facile pen, no business was either too difficult or too dirty +for him. He was made a justice of the peace by Lord Carhampton, who, +as Colonel Luttrell, was designated by Grattan as "a clever bravo, +ready to give an insult, and perhaps capable of bearing one;" in fact, +the last allusion was deserved, as Luttrell had been called "vile and +infamous" by Scott without resenting it. Lord Carhampton became +commander-in-chief in Ireland, and during the outbreak of '98 was a +merciless foe to the rebels who fell into his hands. Higgins, by this +time, had become a great man, and lived in St. Stephen's Green, in +magnificent style, keeping his coach and entertaining the nobility. He +was a loyalist of the rosiest hue, and thought no mission too +derogatory by which he might show his zeal. He attended divine service +regularly, and that over, proceeded to "Crane Lane," in order to count +over and receive his share of the gains in a gambling house of which +he was principal proprietor, and which his influence with the police +magistrates prevented the suppression of--then to his editorial +duties, which were to uphold the measures of government and its +officials, and to lampoon, cajole, or threaten all who dared to oppose +them. + +It was in the disastrous period of '98, however, that the Sham +Squire's most sterling qualities came into active requisition, as +evidenced by the following extract of a letter written by the +Secretary Cooke to Lord Cornwallis, then lord lieutenant of Ireland. +"Francis Higgins," he writes, "proprietor of the 'Freeman's Journal,' +was the person who procured for me all the intelligence respecting +Lord Edward Fitzgerald, and got--to set him, and has given me +otherwise much information--£300;" meaning thereby that his +excellency should sanction that annual amount for "secret service," +out of a sum of £15,000, specially laid aside for that purpose. Beside +this, however, a lump sum of £1000 was given to Higgins on the 20th of +June, 1798, for the betrayal of his friend; and, independent of this, +a confederate of his named Francis Magan, a barrister, {124} and a +close ally of Lord Edward, and who positively "set" the unfortunate +nobleman at Higgins's instigation, received £600 and a pension of £200 +per annum for the worthy deed. Probably the most startling of all +these revelations of domestic treachery was the conduct of Leonard +McNally, barrister at law, and selected "for his ability, truth, zeal, +and sterling honesty," as Curran's assistant in defending the +prisoners implicated in the rebellion. This fellow seems to have +outsoared even Higgins and Magan in his duplicity, since not alone did +he keep government duly informed of the movements of the suspected, +but when on their trial he exhibited the greatest activity in +suggesting points for their defence, seconding his celebrated leader +in his unwearied endeavors to save them, although he had previously +made known to the law officers what course the accused men's counsel +meant to take for the day, so that Curran and his legal friends were +puzzled and surprised at having their best-concocted measures +anticipated and baffled, although not a man of them ever thought of +looking to "honest Mac" as the cause. For this and other services +McNally received some thousands, and was gratified, in addition, with +a pension of £300 per annum. Singularly enough, the terrible secrets +of Magan and McNally were well kept until long after their deaths, and +until the publication of the "Cornwallis Papers" enabled inquirers to +strike on the true vein. Both these men are said to have been +corrupted by the Sham Squire, who seems to have been the +Mephistopheles of his time; but a still more notorious "informer," +because an open one, was Reynolds--Tom Reynolds--who was promised a +pension of £2000 a year and a seat in parliament for his services, but +did not receive quite so much. In 1798, however, he received £5000 and +a pension of £1000 a year; and as his demands were always importunate, +it is known that during the remainder of his life he extracted £45,740 +from his employers. Reynolds went abroad and died there, as Ireland +would hardly have been for him either a safe or a pleasant residence; +but Magan and McNally lived at home for many a goodly year, and were +looked upon as honest men and sterling patriots to the last. Higgins +did not long survive his victims; he died suddenly, in 1802, worth +£20,000, a greater part of which, strange to say, he left for +charitable purposes! + +In reviewing thus the history of this Irish Jonathan Wild and his +detestable comrogues, our object must, we hope, be evident. Their +lives and actions are instructive in many ways, and never promised to +be more so than now. What happened then may happen again; treason will +be dogged by traitors to the end. Fear and avarice are omnipotent +counsellors, and, when coupled with talent and ingenuity, marvellous +indeed are the misery they can cause and the wide-spread devastation +that travels in their track. That a needy and unscrupulous vagabond +like Higgins should hunt his dearest friends to the scaffold is not to +be wondered at; but that men of position and education like Reynolds, +McNally, and Magan should join in the chase, and for years after look +honest men in the face, evinces a hardihood of disposition and a +callosity of conscience which, as a lesson, is instructive, and, as an +utter disregard of remorseful feeling, appears all but impossible. No +doubt such miscreants excuse their crimes on a plea of loyalty, and +the plea would be all-sufficient had they not stipulated for the +price, and had they not exulted in receiving it. There is something +especially abhorrent to our natures in those wretches who voluntarily +plunge into the ranks of anarchy and disaffection at one time, and +then, when cowardice or cupidity overcomes them, overleap all the +boundaries of honor and faith, and trade on the blood or suffering of +the unfortunate men who placed their liberties or lives in their +safe-keeping. + +{125} + +In the notes which Mr. Fitzpatrick has appended to his biography of +the "Sham Squire" as "addenda" we have some well-authenticated and +racy revelations of many of the singular Irish characters who +flourished during the last thirty or forty years of the last century, +and in the first few years of the beginning of this. Ireland appears +to have been the "paradise of adventurers" in that day, as the times +appear to have been out of joint, and the habits and general _morale_ +of the upper and middle ranks were to the last degree loose and +irregular. As the manners and modes of action of a people are in a +considerable degree fashioned and influenced by the example set them +by those who are placed in authority over them, it is not too much to +assert that a great deal of the lax morality, unscrupulous spirit, and +general demoralization were produced by some of the occupants of the +vice-regal throne, and their "courts," the character and course of +life of whom are painted by our author in anything but a seductive +way. Brilliancy, show, pleasure, wit, and extravagance were the order +of the day; lords-lieutenant were either dissipated _roués_, or +incompetent imbeciles, and in either case they were sure to be coerced +or cajoled by a mercenary tribe of political adventurers, who directed +their actions and influenced their minds. We at once see by the +wholesale corruption practised to bring about the Union, how utterly +depraved must have been the men who openly or covertly prostituted +themselves, when it was in contemplation; and never was political +profligacy more open and more daring in its violation of honor, +probity, and principle than in the abject submission of the Irish +parliament, and its unhesitating anxiety to sell themselves, souls and +bodies, to those who tempted them, and who had studied them far too +accurately not to be sure of their prey. Amongst those who consented +to accept the remuneration thus profusely offered them the lawyers +bore a very prominent part; in fact, government could hardly have +succeeded without their aid; of these, Fitzgibbon, afterward Lord +Clare and chancellor, was the most forward and efficient. There was +never a man better adapted for the work he had to do. Bold, active, +astute, and unscrupulous, he could be all things to all men; those +whom he could not cajole, he frightened; equally ready with the pen, +the pistol, and the tongue, he was neither to be daunted nor silenced; +terrible in his vengeance, no windings of his victims could escape +him; and extravagant in his generosity (when the public purse had to +bear the blunt), his jackals and partisans felt that their reward was +sure, and therefore never hesitated to comply with his most exact +demands. Few men had a larger number of followers, therefore, and no +man ever made a more unscrupulous use of them. He had nothing of the +recusant about him, however, and first and last he was consistent to +his party and to the Protestant creed which he had adopted in early +life, for he had been born and partly reared in the Roman Catholic +faith. In his personal demeanor he was a lion-hearted man; when hissed +in the streets by the populace he calmly produced his pistols; and +once, on hearing that a political meeting against the Union was being +held, he rushed into the middle of the assembled mass, commanded the +high-sheriff to quit the chair, and so closed the meeting. On the +bench he was equally fearless, and when recommended to beware of +treachery, his answer was, "They dare not; I have made them as tame as +cats." "If I live," he said, "to see the Union completed, to my latest +hour I shall feel an honorable pride in reflecting on the share I had +in contributing to effect it." He did live to see it, and to take his +seat in the British parliament; but matters were altogether altered +there. In his maiden effort he was rebuked by Lord Suffolk, called to +order by the lord chancellor, while the Duke of Bedford indignantly +snubbed him by {126} exclaiming, "We would not bear such insults from +our _equals_, and shall we, my lords, tolerate them at the hands of +mushroom nobility?" while, to cap the climax, Pitt, after hearing him, +turned to Wilberforce, and said loud enough to be heard by Lord Clare, +"Good G--d! did you ever, in all your life, listen to so +thorough-paced a scoundrel as that!" Disappointed and despairing, he +returned to Ireland, and died of a broken heart, while almost the last +words he uttered to a friend were, "Only to think of it! I that had +all Ireland at my disposal cannot now procure the nomination of a +single gauger!" + +John Scott, afterward Lord Chief-Justice Clonmel, was another +prominent actor in those busy times. His birth was lowly, but his +talents were considerable; he was light and flippant rather than +profound, and he felt to the last a terrible mortification that his +claims had been postponed to those of Lord Clare. He had neither the +grasp of mind, nor the unhesitating manner of the chancellor, however; +he was apt to surround himself with companions, like the "Sham +Squire," for instance, who might be pleasant but were by no means +reputable. Beside, his character for probity was distrusted; his first +uprise in life was his wholesale appropriation of the property of a +Catholic friend which he held in trust, as Catholics, at that time, +could not retain property in their hands, and which he refused to +disgorge. He was both venal and vindictive, and but too often +prostituted his authority in pursuit of his passions. On one occasion, +however, he was signally discomfited. A man of the name of Magee, who +owned and edited the "Evening Post," had frequently come under the +lash, and was treated with no mercy. Magee's vengeance took a curious +form. Lord Clonmel was an ardent lover of horticulture, and had spent +many thousand pounds in making his suburban villa a "model." Magee +knew this, and as the chief demesne was skirted by an open common from +which a thick hedge alone separated it, the journalist proclaimed a +rural _fête_, on an enormous scale, to be held on the vacant ground, +and to which the whole Dublin population, gentle and simple, were +invited. Meats and liquors were given to an unlimited extent, and, in +the evening, when the "roughs" were primed with whiskey, several pigs +(shaved and with their tails well soaped) were let out as part of the +amusement of the day. By preconcert, the affrighted animals were +driven against Lord Clonmel's inclosure, which they speedily +over-leaped, followed by the mob. Trees, shrubs, flowers, vases, and +statues were in a wonderfully short time demolished in the "fun," +while, to make the matter still more deplorable, the owner of the +property thus wantonly devoted to revenge stood on the steps of his +own hall-door, and with alternate fits of imprecation and entreaty +besought the spoilers to desist, but in vain. Toward the close of his +life, Lord Clonmel became a hypochondriac, and, supposing himself to +be a tea-pot, hardly ventured to stir abroad lest he should be broken. +On one occasion, his great forensic antagonist, Curran, was told that +Clonmel was going to die at last, and was asked if he believed it. "I +believe," was the reply, "that he is scoundrel enough to live or die +_just as it meets his convenience_." Shortly before his death he said +to Lord Cloncurry, "My dear Val, I have been a fortunate man, or what +the world calls so; I am chief-justice and an earl; but were I to +begin life again, I would rather be a chimney-sweeper, than consent to +be connected with the Irish government." + +Another "celebrity" was John Taler, "bully, butcher, and buffoon," who +was afterward a peer and a judge. He was a bravo in the house and a +despot on the bench. He jested with the wretched he condemned, and +seemed never so happy as when {127} the scaffold was before his eyes. +He was ignorant but ferocious, and when he could not conquer an +opponent he would browbeat him. + +"Give me a long day, my lord," said a culprit, whom he had just +doomed. + +"I am sorry to say I can't oblige you, my friend," replied Lord +Norbury, smiling; "but I promise you a strong rope, which I suppose +will answer your purpose as well." + +When he died, and was about to be lowered into the grave himself, the +tackle was rather short. + +"Tare-an-agers, boys, don't spare the _rope_ on his lordship; don't +you know he was always fond of it?" said one of the standers-by. + +"I never saw a human face that so closely resembles that of a +bull-dog!" remarked one barrister to another in court. + +"Let him get a grip of your throat, and you will find the resemblance +still closer," was the reply. + +These and a hundred others, their equals, instruments, and +subordinates, may be supposed to represent the Irish "turnspit" +element; it must be acknowledged, however, that in contradistinction +to them, there were sounding examples of men of a different and far +superior class, such as the Leinsters, Charlemonts, Plunketts, +Currans, Ponsonbys, and so forth, who would have adorned any country, +and who certainly contributed to relieve their own from the almost +intolerable odium which the wholesale venal profligacy of a large +number had brought upon it. + +------ + +From Once a Week. + +THE LEGEND OF THE LOCKHARTS. + +I. + + King Robert on his death-bed lay, wasted in every limb, + The priests had left, Black Douglas now alone was watching him; + The earl had wept to hear those words, "When I am gone to doom, + Take thou my heart and bear it straight unto the Holy Tomb." + +II. + + Douglas shed bitter tears of grief--he loved the buried man. + He bade farewell to home and wife, to brother and to clan; + And soon the Bruce's heart embalm'd, in silver casket lock'd, + Within a galley, white with sails, upon the blue waves rock'd. + +III. + + In Spain they rested, there the king besought the Scottish earl + To drive the Saracens from Spain, his galley sails to furl; + It was the brave knight's eagerness to quell the Paynim brood. + That made him then forget the oath he'd sworn upon the rood. + +IV. + + That was his sin; good angels frown'd upon him as he went + With vizor down and spear in rest, lips closed, and black brow bent: + Upon the turbans, fierce he spurr'd, the charger he bestrode + Was splash'd with blood, the robes and flags he trampled on the road. + +{128} + +V. + + The Moors came fast with cymbal clash and tossing javelin, + Ten thousand horsemen, at the least, on Castille closing in; + Quick as the deer's foot snaps the ice, the Douglas thundered through, + And struck with sword and smote with axe among the heathen crew. + +VI. + + The horse-tail banners beaten down, the mounted archers fled-- + There came full many an Arab curse from faces smear'd with red, + The vizor fell, a Scottish spear had struck him on the breast; + Many a Moslem's frighten'd horse was bleeding head and chest. + +VII. + + But suddenly the caitiffs turn'd and gathered like a net, + In closed the tossing sabres fast, and they were crimson wet, + Steel jarr'd on steel--the hammers smote on helmet and on sword, + But Douglas never ceased to charge upon that heathen horde. + +VIII. + + Till all at once his eager eye discerned amid the fight + St. Clair of Roslyn, Bruce's friend, a brave and trusty knight. + Beset with Moors who hew'd at him with sabres dripping blood-- + Twas in a rice-field where he stood close to an orange wood. + +IX. + + Then to the rescue of St. Clair Black Douglas spurred amain, + The Moslems circled him around, and shouting charged again; + Then took he from his neck the heart, and as the case he threw, + "Pass first in fight," he cried aloud, "as thou wert wont to do." + +X. + + They found him ere the sun had set upon that fatal day, + His body was above the case, that closely guarded lay. + His swarthy face was grim in death, his sable hair was stain'd + With the life-blood of a felon Moor, whom he had struck and brain*d. + +XI. + + Sir Simon Lockhart, knight of Lee, bore home the silver case. + To shrine it in a stately grave and in a holy place, + The Douglas deep in Spanish ground they left in royal tomb. + To wait in hope and patient trust the trumpet of the doom. + + +{129} + + +[ORIGINAL.] + +REMINISCENCES OF DR. SPRING. [Footnote 23] + + [Footnote 23: "Personal Reminiscences of the Life and Times of + Gardiner Spring, Pastor of the Brick Presbyterian Church in the City + of New York." 2 vols. 12mo. New York: Charles Scribner & Company.] + +Few persons who have lived much in New York during the last quarter of +a century are not familiar with the dignified, resolute, yet kindly +countenance of the pastor of the Brick Presbyterian church. Fewer +still are ignorant of his reputation as a leading and representative +man in his denomination; a keen polemic; a great promoter of +missionary, tract, and Bible societies; and, we may add, a very +determined enemy of the Pope of Rome and all his aiders and abettors. +For more than fifty-five years he has preached to the same +congregation which gave him a call when he was first licensed as a +minister. During his career thirteen Presidents of the United States, +from Washington to Lincoln, have died; three Kings of England have +been laid in their graves; the horrors of the Reign of Terror, the +execution of Louis XVI., the rise and fall of the first Napoleon, the +shifting scenes of the Restoration, the Orleans rule, the second +Republic and the second Empire, have hurried each other across the +stage of French history. He has long passed the scriptural term of the +life of man; and now, at the almost patriarchal age of eighty-one, he +gives us a collection of reminiscences of what he has seen and done +during this protracted and eventful career. + +It would be natural to suppose that such a book by such a man must be +full of interest. As one of the recognized leaders of a rich and +influential religious denomination, and one of the oldest and most +respectable citizens of the first city of America, how many historical +characters must he have met! to how many important events must he have +been a witness! But any one who takes up these volumes in the hope of +obtaining through them a clearer view of persons and times gone by, +will be disappointed. They are interesting, it is true, but not, we +will venture to say, in the way their author meant them to be. They +cause us to wonder that the doctor should have seen so much and +remembered so little. Yet as a picture of the life of a representative +Presbyterian preacher and a complete exposure of the utter emptiness +of the Presbyterian religion, these garrulous and random +"Reminiscences" are the most entertaining pages we have read for many +a month. We propose to cull for our readers a few of the most +interesting passages. + +Dr. Spring was born in Newburyport, Massachusetts, Feb. 24, 1785. His +father was a minister, of whom the son says that "he would not shave +his face on the Lord's day, nor allow his wife to sew a button on her +son's vest; and on one occasion, when his nephew, the late Adolphus +Spring, Esq., arrived in haste on a Saturday evening with the message +that his father was on his bed of death, he would not mount his horse +for the journey of seventy miles until the Sabbath sun had gone down." +Though young Gardiner used to wonder, when a boy, why he was not +allowed to participate in the customary sports of children, he seems +to have preserved a warm affection for both his parents, of whom he +speaks in a loving and reverential tone which we cannot too carefully +respect. The thought that most affected him on their death was {130} +"_that he had lost their prayers._" Gardiner was sent to Yale College +at the age of fifteen, and during "a remarkable outpouring of the +Spirit" upon that rather unregenerate institution, in the year 1803, +he became, for a season, "hopefully pious." He had been uneasy for +some time about the state of his soul, and one afternoon he resolved +to pray, several hours, if necessary, until his sins were forgiven. +"There," he says, "in the south entry of the old college, back side, +middle room, third story, I wrestled with God as I had never wrestled +before." The result of this spiritual struggle we do not profess to +understand. He says that he rose from his knees without any hope that +he had found mercy, yet feeling considerably relieved. For several +weeks he went about, peaceful and happy, when, unluckily, the Fourth +of July came, with its speeches and fireworks, and his "religious +hopes and impressions all vanished as a morning cloud, and as the +early dew." It was five or six years before they came back again. + +When he graduated his father came to hear him speak, and at the close +of the exercises gave him his blessing and told him to shift for +himself. So, there he was, twenty years old, with four dollars in his +pocket and a profession yet to be acquired. He borrowed two hundred +and fifty dollars from a generous friend, obtained a situation as +precentor in a church, opened a singing school, and applied himself +zealously to the study of law. Before long he married a young lady as +poor as himself, and went with her in 1806 to Bermuda, where he taught +school for some time very successfully; but rumors of war between this +country and Great Britain drove him back to the United States, and in +his twenty-fourth year he entered upon the practice of the law at New +Haven. + +In the meanwhile those uneasy feelings of the soul, which he seems +unable to analyze (though we warrant a good confessor would quickly +have solved his perplexities) had not left him at peace. He writes to +his father from Bermuda upon the state of his interior man: + + "I should wish to go to heaven, because I should be pleased, with + its employment. Were all my sins mortified and I rendered perfectly + holy, I think I should the happy. . . . . Sometimes I can say, Lord, + I believe; help thou mine unbelief. .... I am avaricious; and in the + present state of my family, make money my god. I strain honesty _as + far as I can_ to gain a little." + +This was certainly not a satisfactory condition of things. The lust +for mammon seems strong enough, but the aspirations for heaven might +well have been rather more ardent. He goes to church and sings and +weeps, and the minister and elders crowd around him to see what is the +matter. He goes to prayer-meeting at last in New Haven, and there the +conversion--such as it is--is effected: "As the exercises closed and +the crowded worshippers rose to sing the doxology, I felt that I could +'praise God from whom all blessings flow.' Praise! praise! It was +delightful to praise him! On the 24th of April following, I united +with the visible church under Mr. Stuart's pastorate, and began to be +an active Christian." + +We must say that this seems to be a very simple and easy process of +getting out of the power of the devil. Conversion, according to Dr. +Spring's idea, is simply an emotion of the mind, a spasm of sentiment. +It includes neither satisfaction for the past, nor the performance of +any definite religious duty in the present or the future. Any one who +can excite himself into the belief that he is regenerate, or tickle +his mind into the pleasant state indicated by the man who, when asked, +"How it felt to get religion?" replied that "it was just like having +warm water poured down your back"--any such one, we say, may rest +assured of his eternal safety. Dr. Spring is no more exacting with +other candidates for conversion than he was with himself. To a sick +man who inquires "what he shall do?" he answers: "Believe on the Lord +Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." + +{131} + +"But will you not tell me _how_ I shall go to him?" + +"Yes, I can tell you; you must not go in your own strength; for your +strength is weakness. You must not go in your own righteousness, for +you have none. You must feel your need of Christ, and see that he is +just the Saviour adapted to your wants. You must adore, and love, and +trust him. . . . . Commit to him your entire salvation, and in all +holy 'obedience live devoted to his service.'" Now in all this there +is just one practical suggestion, namely, to "live devoted to God's +service"--and that the man could not follow because he was dying. Let +our readers contrast Dr. Spring's death-bed ministrations with what a +Catholic priest would have said and done in similar circumstances. The +priest would have given definite instruction and divine sacraments; +the preacher has nothing better to offer than a few commonplace +generalities from his last Sunday's sermon. + +But we must return to the reverend doctor's biography. Close upon the +heels of his conversion came the resolution to be a minister. The +pecuniary difficulties in the way of this change of profession were +soon obviated by the generosity of a rich widow of Salem. There was +another obstacle, however, of a more serious nature. This was Mrs. +Spring. She was "not a professed Christian." She was "a worldly +woman." She sought the honors of the world. She did not want to be a +minister's wife. The doctor had a great respect for her. He was afraid +to tell her of his resolution. We must let him describe in his own +words how he got out of the difficulty: + + "I then began a course of conduct which I have ever since pursued, + and that was, in all cases where my own duty was plain, and my + resolution formed, quietly to carry my resolution into effect, and + meet the storm afterward. I did so in the present instance, though + there was no other storm than a plentiful shower of tears. I said + nothing to my wife; nothing to any one except Mr. Evarts. I sent my + wife on a visit to my only sister, the wife of the Hon. Bezaleel + Taft, at Uxbridge, the native place of my father, where I engaged in + a few weeks to meet her, and make a further visit to Newburyport. + She had no suspicion of my views, and left me with the confident + expectation that she would return to New Haven. + + "In the meantime, after she left me, I was busily employed in + arranging my affairs for my removal to Andover. I announced my + purpose to the church at the next prayer-meeting, and received a + fresh impulse from their prayers and benedictions. Mr. Evarts took + my office and my business, and closed up my unsettled accounts with + his accustomed accuracy, and my ledger now records them. Mr. Smith, + my old teacher, laughed at me; Judge Daggett was silent. Judge + Rossiter said to me, 'Mr. Spring, the pulpit is your place; you were + formed for the pulpit rather than the bar.' My business in New Haven + was closed; my debts paid; my household furniture, small as it was, + was carefully stowed away; my law library, worth about four hundred + dollars, was disposed of, and I was on my way to Uxbridge, + Newburyport, Salem, and Andover. + + "When I reached Uxbridge, and was once more in the bosom of my + little family, I felt that the trial had come. I could not at once + disclose my plans to my wife, and was saved that painful interview + by the suspicions of Mr. Taft, who told her that he believed I was + going to be a clergyman! She laughed at him; but she saw a change in + my deportment, and began to suspect it herself. I told her all. She + went to her chamber and wept for a long time. But she came down, + subdued indeed, but placid as a lamb, and simply said, 'It is all + over now; I am ready.' Oh, how kindly has God watched over me! It + seems as though the promise was fulfilled, 'Return unto thy country + and to thy kindred, and I will deal well with thee.' Some day or two + before we left Uxbridge, Mr. Taft said to me, 'Brother Spring, I + have a case before Justice Adams this morning; you are still a + lawyer, and I want you to go and argue it with me.' The thought + struck me pleasantly, and I resolved to go; but instead of assisting + him, without his knowledge I engaged myself to what I thought the + weaker party; and my last effort at the bar was in battling with my + sister's husband, and in the place of my father's nativity." + +{132} + +After eight months devoted to the study of theology at the Andover +seminary, Mr. Spring was licensed to preach and received a call from +the Brick church in New York. As a preliminary to his ordination, it +was necessary for him to preach a trial sermon before the presbytery, +and to submit to an examination as to his orthodoxy. In this latter +test he did not give unqualified satisfaction, nevertheless they +passed him, and he was duly ordained to the pastorship. As a salve, we +suppose, for their consciences, the presbytery deputed the Rev. Dr. +Milledollar, one of their number, to talk with the young minister, and +try to reason him out of certain heterodox opinions which he +entertained upon the subject of human ability. The result of the +interview was that, in Dr. Milledollar's judgment, "the best way of +curing a man of such views was to dip his head in cold water." + +It was but a dismal religion of which he now became the minister. +Tears, gloom, discomfort, and brokenness of heart were the +characteristics of the spiritual life, and peace of mind was an +alarming symptom of the dominion of the devil. "Newark is again highly +favored," writes the minister to his parents: "there are not less than +five hundred persons _very solemn_." "My people appear solemn; they +were so at the lecture on Thursday evening." "I preached on Monday to +a very solemn audience at my own house." "The state of things in the +congregation, notwithstanding the war, is looking up. Our public +meetings and our social gatherings are more full and more solemn." He +visits Paris, and there passes an evening with a small party of his +countrymen: "We could not refrain from weeping during the whole time +we were together." The quantity of tears shed in the course of the +book is positively appalling. Of course there is nothing that remotely +resembles the gift of tears with which Almighty God sometimes rewards +and consoles his saints. It is merely a perpetual gush of mawkish +sentimentality, and we defy anybody to read these "Reminiscences" +without having before him an image of the whole Brick church with +chronic redness of the eyes. A member of the congregation went to the +doctor once with a request that he would baptize a child. He was not +one of the weepers, or, as Dr. Spring expresses it, "not a religious +man." The opportunity was too good to be lost. The doctor labored with +him, preached at him, probably wept at him, tried to impress him with +the solemnity and privilege of the transaction, did not baptize his +child, but finally prayed with him and urged him to come again. The +result of the exhortation is a good commentary upon the whole system +of sentimental spasmodic religion: "He went away," says Dr. Spring, +"and being requested by his wife to have another interview with me, +replied, 'No; _you will not catch me there again_.'" We suppose that +the child was not baptized; but that, according to Dr. Spring, and in +spite of the Bible, makes very little difference. It was his rule "to +baptize only those children, one of whose parents was a professed +Christian"--that is to say, a member of the church; and except in one +instance he has never varied from this strict practice. "That," he +says, "was in the case of a sick and dying grandchild, whose father +was a man of prayer, but not a communicant, and I myself professed to +stand _in loco parentis_, I now look upon the whole transaction as +wrong." + +Dr. Spring has done a great deal of theological fighting in his day; +but his foes have been chiefly those of his own household. Now and +then he has carried the war into foreign countries, as at the time of +the famous School Question in New York, when he had a tilt with Bishop +Hughes before the Common Council, and got decidedly the worst of it; +but for the most part he has devoted himself to intestine feuds. The +controversy between Hopkinsians {133} and Calvinists in the +Presbyterian denomination; the disputes in the American Bible Society; +the schism in the Young Men's Missionary Society of New York; the +effort to create a division in the American Home Missionary Society; +the controversies about the New Haven school of theology and the +exscinding acts of the General Assembly;--these and many other +religious quarrels took up a great deal of the doctor's time, and he +still writes about them with no little acrimony and personal feeling. +We subjoin a few extracts: + + "The wrath of the Philadelphia Synod is praising the Lord. We shall + have a battle in the spring, and lay a heavy hand upon that report. + I shall not hesitate to take my life in my hand if Providence allows + me to go to the Assembly."--_vol. i., p._70. + + "The Rev. Ezra Stiles Ely had published his celebrated work, + entitled 'The Contrast,' the object of which is to show the points + of difference between the views of Hopkinsian and Calvinistic + theology. It was addressed to prejudice and ignorance, and was aimed + at the youthful pastor of the Brick church."--_Vol. i., p._ 129. + + "I find my heart strangely _suspicious_. Sometimes I am resolved to + withdraw from the Missionary and Education cause, because I foresee + they will be scenes of contention. But then, again, I know they are + exposed to evils, and the church is exposed to evils, through the + mismanagement of these excellent institutions, which perhaps I may + prevent."--_Vol ii., p_. 78. + +We doubt whether Dr. Spring's clerical brethren like the following +passage; but anyhow, there is a great deal of truth in it: + + "There have been spurious revivals in my day, and the means of + promoting them are the index of their character. In such seasons of + excitement, great dependence is placed on the way and means of + _getting them up_, and little of the impression [sic] that not a + soul will be converted unless it be accomplished by the power of + God. Whatever the words of the leaders may profess, their conduct + proclaims, 'Mine own arm hath done this!' There is a familiarity, a + boldness, an irreverence in their prayers, which ill becomes worms + of the dust in approaching him before whom angels veil their faces. + A pious and poor woman, in coming out from a religious service thus + conducted, once said, 'I cannot think what it is that makes our + ministers _swear_ so in their prayers.' They count their converts, + and when they survey their work, there is a triumph, a self-reliant + exultation over it, which looks like the triumph of the pagan + monarch, when he exclaimed, 'Is not this great Babylon which I have + built!' And hence it is that so many of the subjects of such a work, + after the excitement is over, find that their own hearts have + deceived them, that they are no longer affected by solemn preaching + and solemn prayers, that _their past emotions were nothing more than + the operations of nature, and that when these natural causes have + exhausted their power there is no religion left."--Vol. i., p_. 219. + +Dr. Spring gives a curious illustration of the length to which +excitement sometimes carries the poor victims of the revivalists, in +the case of a Mrs. Pierson, "around whose lifeless body her husband +assembled a company of _believers_, with the assurance that if they +prayed in faith, she would be restored to life. Their feelings were +greatly excited, their impressions of their success peculiar and +strong. They prayed and prayed again, and prayed _in faith_, but they +were disappointed," vol. i., p. 229. + +He is rather free sometimes in his criticisms upon his brother +ministers. He listens to a sermon from the Rev. Mr. Finney, a noted +revivalist, and says that there was nothing exceptionable in it +"except a vulgarity that indicated a want of culture, and a coarseness +unbecoming the Christian pulpit." He hears a Mr. Broadway preach at +sea, and thus records his impressions: "I must say he is a _John Bull_ +of a preacher. What a pity that men who need to be taught what are the +first principles of the oracles of God, should undertake to teach +others!" We dare say Dr. Spring's judgment of both these gentlemen was +sound; but we see no propriety in printing it. + +He made several voyages to Europe, and travelled through France, +Germany, and Great Britain. Respecting the state of Protestantism in +France, he makes some significant admissions: + + "Protestantism in France is not what I have been in the habit of + considering it. {134} I knew it was in a measure corrupt, but not to + the extent in which I actually find it. I do not think that the + Romanists, as a body, have much confidence in the Roman religion. + But the mischief is that when thinking men throw off the bonds of + Romanism, _they relapse into infidelity_. . . . . + True religion in France _finds its most bitter and unwearied enemies + in Protestants themselves_. The Protestants of this country are high + Arians, if not absolute Socinians. There are now [1835] three + hundred and fifty-eight Protestant pastors in France, beside their + few vacant churches. _But there are comparatively few among them all + who love and obey the truth."--Vol, ii., pp._ 260, 361. + +The pages devoted to his European tours are remarkable +exemplifications of the truth of the old adage, that _coelum, non +animum, mutant qui trans mare currunt_. Wherever he goes, his breadth +of vision seems bounded by his own pulpit. The venerable cathedrals of +Europe, rich with the noblest memories, and the great historic places +haunted by the grandest associations of the past, fill him with no +thoughts more elevated than those awakened by the Brick church. He +sees everything distorted through the medium of his own inveterate +prejudices. If he visits a religious shrine, he can think of nothing +but the abominations of the scarlet woman of Babylon. If he sees a +convent, he tells us a cock-and-bull story about subterranean passages +paved with the bones of infants. If he witnesses some grand and +imposing ceremonial, he throws up his eyes, rushes out of the church, +and, while he shakes the dust off his feet, groans over the wickedness +of the Romish priests and their blasphemous mummeries, farcical shows, +and hypocritical disguises. One Sunday, while at Paris, he went with +the well-known missionary. Dr. Jonas King, and some other American +friends, to visit a hill called Mont Calvaire, near the city, to which +numbers of pilgrims were then resorting. They filled their pockets +with tracts, which they distributed, right and left, among the +thousands that were going up and down the mountain. They even +interrupted kneeling worshippers at their prayers to give them tracts. +These valuable gifts were received with avidity, for, as the narrator +elsewhere explains, our respectable parsons were mistaken for Catholic +missionaries. A few days afterward they made another excursion of the +same sort to Mont Calvaire. We give the conclusion of the adventure in +the words of Dr. King, from whose journal Dr. Spring copies it: + + "Mr. and Mrs. Wilder, and Miss Bertau, and Mr. Storrow's children, + had gone to Mount Calvary to distribute tracts and Testaments. Dr. + Spring and myself, having filled our pockets, and hats, and hands, + with tracts and Testaments, set off with the hope to find them. Just + as we began to ascend the mountain, we met them coming at a + distance. On meeting them, they informed us that they had been + stopped by the Commissary of the Police, and that a gendarme, by + order of the missionaries (Rom. C. M.), had taken away their tracts + and Testaments, and prohibited them in the name of the law to + distribute any more on Mount Calvary. Mr. W. advised us not to + proceed with the intention of distributing those which we had. We + however, went, giving to every one we met, till we came in sight of + the _gendarmes_, when we ceased giving, but occasionally let some + fall from our pockets, which the wind, which was very high, + scattered in all directions, and were gathered up by the crowd. At + length we arrived at the top of the mountain, took our stand on the + highest elevation near the cross, and there, in our own language, + offered up, each of us, a prayer to the God of heaven for direction, + and to have mercy on those tens of thousands that we saw around us, + bowing before graven images. _I then felt in some degree + strengthened to go on, and, taking a tract from my pocket, presented + it to a lady who stood near me, and who appeared to be a lady of + some distinction._ She received it with thanks, and I was not + noticed by the _gendarmes_. Dr. S. let some fall from his pocket, + and we made our way down to one of the stations. There he laid some + on the charity-box, while I stood before him, to hide what he did. + We then went to another station, and I gave ten or twelve to a lady, + whom I charged to distribute them." + +The heroism of these Presbyterian missionaries, who go up and down +hill, dropping divine truth from their coat-tails, reminds us of a +crazy old lady {135}so in New York, whose will was lately contested +before our courts. She had peculiar ideas of her own on the subject of +politics and the war, and used to inscribe her thoughts on great paper +kites, and give them to little boys to fly in the Central Park, in the +belief that the words would somehow or another be disseminated through +the city. Imagine St. Francis Xavier setting sail for the Indies with +his hat, and pockets, and hands full of tracts, scattering them +broad-cast along the inhospitable shores, or trusting them to the +breezes, like those charitable Buddhists Father Huc tells of, who go +up a high mountain on windy days, and throw into the air little paper +horses, which being blown away are, as they believe, miraculously +changed into real horses for the benefit of belated travellers. +Suppose Father Matthew, instead of preaching a crusade against +drunkenness, had contented himself with sneaking into shibeens and +taverns, and, behind the friendly shelter of a companion's back, had +deposited little bundles of temperance tracts on the top of every +barrel of whiskey, as if he expected them to explode like a torpedo, +and fill the air with virtue. Or what would Dr. Spring think if some +Sunday, in the midst of his prayer, two or three Catholic priests +should march into the Brick church and distribute Challoner's +Catechisms up and down the aisles, making the "solemn" Presbyterians +get up from their knees to receive them? It would not be a bit more +outrageous than the doctor's behavior during the mission on Mont +Calvaire. + +American travellers in Europe, especially of the fanatical sort, are +but too apt to disgrace themselves and their country by their conduct +in sacred places. Here is another extract from Dr. Spring's book which +no respectable American can read without blushing. The incident +occurred in the famous cathedral of Rouen, built by William the +Conqueror, and reckoned the finest specimen of Gothic architecture in +France: + + "A little circumstance occurred here that was somewhat amusing. [!] + Mr. Van Rensallear, in order to procure some little relic of the + place, instead of gathering some flowers, broke off the _nose_ of + one of the marble saints! He hoped to escape the detection of the + guide, but unfortunately, on leaving the cathedral, we had to pass + the mutilated statue, and were charged with the sacrilege. It was a + lady saint whose sanctity our gallantry had thus violated, and we + had to meet the most terrific volleys of abuse. A few glittering + coins, however, obtained absolution for us, but neither entreaty nor + cash could obtain the _nose_." + +That must have been a funny scene one Sunday in crossing the ocean, +when the doctor and his wife, and the rest of the passengers, held +service under difficulties: + + "We assembled for praise and prayer. Susan was quite sea-sick, yet + she came on deck. The day was cold, and she sat with _a hot potato + in each hand to keep her warm_." + +This is certainly the oddest preparation for approaching the throne of +grace that we ever heard of. + +Mrs. Spring is a prominent figure all through the book, giving her +reverend husband advice and comfort, and helping him in the work of +the ministry, especially with regard to the women of the flock. He +laments in his introductory chapter that the death of his "beloved +Mrs. Spring must leave a vacuum in these pages which nothing can +fill." In the second volume he gives a long and detailed account of +her sufferings in child-bed when she "became the mother of a lovely +daughter." When she died in 1860, he wrote in his diary as follows: + + "I have been her husband and she my wife for four-and-fifty years; + our attachment has been mutual, and strong and sweet to the end. I + had no friend on earth in whom I had such reliance; no counsellor so + wise; no comforter so precious. For the last thirty years we have + rarely differed in opinion; when we did, I generally found she was + right and I was was wrong; and when I persevered in my {136} + judgment she knew how to yield her wishes to mine, and would + sometimes say with a smile, 'God has set the man above the woman. + You are _king_, my husband; but I am the queen!' In all my ministry, + in sickness and in health, at home and abroad, by night and by day, + I never knew her own convenience, comfort, or pleasure take the + place of my duty to the people of my charge. . . . . I bless God + that I had such a wife--that I had her at all, and that I had her so + long. . . . My darling wife, I give you joy: but what shall I do + without you?" + +This last question is soon answered in an unexpected manner. Only +eight pages further on, Dr. Spring, aged eighty, records the following +passage: + + "_April 13th,_ 1865.--My sweet wife was too valuable a woman ever to + be forgotten. The preceding sketch furnishes but the outline of her + excellences, which I have presented more at large at the close of + the sermon commemorative of one who was my first love. I never + thought I could love another. But I was advanced beyond my + threescore years and ten, partially blind, and needed a helper + fitted to my age and condition; no one needs such a helper more than + a man in my advanced years. I sought, and God gave me another wife. + A few days only more than a year after the death of Mrs. Spring, on + the 14th of August, 1861, I was married to Abba Grosvenor Williams, + the only surviving child of the late Elisha Williams, Esq., a + distinguished member of the bar. She is the heiress of a large + Property, and retains it in her own hands. She is intent on her duty + as a wife, watchful of my wants, takes good care of me, is an + excellent housekeeper, and instead of adding to the expenses of my + household, shares them with her husband."--Vol. ii., pp. 91, 92. + +With this extract, Dr. Spring may be left to the charity of our +readers. We have said nothing of the vanity which allows him freely to +quote the commendations of his friends on his efforts in the pulpit +and his publications through the press; because, inconsistent as it +may be with a very elevated piety, it is a weakness that might be +pardoned in such an old man. But we cannot help remarking how on every +page he gives evidence of the utter baselessness of the thing he calls +religion; the unsubstantial, unsatisfying character of those human +emotions which he perpetually mistakes for the operations of the Holy +Ghost; and the strangely unreal, unsanctified nature of the fit of +mental perturbation which he denotes conversion and labors so hard to +produce. The conclusion to which every unprejudiced person must come, +on closing the volumes, is that Dr. Spring has lived in vain. + +------ + +{137} + +MISCELLANY. + +_Arabian Laughing Plant_.--In Palgrave's "Central and Eastern Arabia" +some particulars are given in regard to a carious narcotic plant. Its +seeds, in which the active principal seems chiefly to reside, when +pounded and administered in a small dose, produce effects much like +those ascribed to Sir Humphrey Davy's laughing gas; the patient +dances, sings, and performs a thousand extravagances, till after an +hour of great excitement to himself and amusement to the bystanders, +he falls asleep, and on awaking has lost all memory of what he did or +said while under the influence of the drug. To put a pinch of this +powder into the coffee of some unexpecting individual is not an +uncommon joke, nor is it said that it was ever followed by serious +consequences, though an over quantity might perhaps be dangerous. The +author tried it on two individuals, but in proportions if not +absolutely homoeopathic, still sufficiently minute to keep on the safe +side, and witnessed its operation, laughable enough but very harmless. +The plant that hears these berries hardly attains in Kaseem the height +of six inches above the ground, but in Oman were seen bushes of it +three or four feet in growth, and wide-spreading. The stems are woody, +and of a yellow tinge when barked; the leaf of a dark green color, and +pinnated with about twenty leaflets on either side; the stalks smooth +and shining; the flowers are yellow, and grow in tufts, the anthers +numerous, the fruit is a capsule, stuffed with greenish padding, in +which lie imbedded two or three black seeds, in size and shape much +like French beans; their taste sweetish, but with a peculiar opiate +flavor; the smell heavy and almost sickly. + + + +_The Congelation of Animals_.--It is generally supposed that certain +animals cannot be frozen without the production of fatal results, and +that others can tolerate any degree of congelation. Both these views +have been shown to be incorrect in a paper read before the French +Academy, by M. Pouchet. The writer arrives at the following +conclusions: (1.) The first effect produced by the application of cold +is contraction of the capillary blood-vessels. This may be observed +with the microscope. The vessels become so reduced in calibre that the +blood-globules are unable to enter them. (2.) The second effect is the +alteration in form and structure of the blood-globules themselves. +These alterations are of three kinds: (_a_) the nucleus bursts from +the surrounding envelope; (_b_) the nucleus undergoes alteration of +form; (_c_) the borders of the globule become crenated, and assume a +deeper color than usual. (3.) When an animal is completely frozen, and +when, consequently, its blood-globules have become disorganized, it is +dead--nothing can then re-animate it. (4.) When the congelation is +partial, those organs which have been completely frozen become +gangrenous and are destroyed. (5.) If the partial congelation takes +place to a very slight extent, there are not many altered globules +sent into the general circulation; and hence life is not compromised. +(6.) If, on the contrary, it is extensive, the quantity of altered +globules is so great that the animal perishes. (7.) On this account an +animal which is partially frozen may live a long time if the +congelation is maintained, the altered globules not entering into the +general circulation; but, on the contrary, it dies if heat be suddenly +applied, owing to the blood becoming charged with altered globules. +(8.) In all cases of fatal congelation the animal dies from +decomposition or alteration of the blood-globules, and not from +stupefaction of the nervous system. + + + +_Ordnance and Targets_.--The Admiralty having erected a new target, +representing a portion of the side of the _Hercules_, experiments were +made at Shoeburyness which proved that a thickness of armor casing had +been attained which afforded perfect security against even the largest +guns recently constructed. The target has a facing of {138} 9-inch +armor-plates, and contains altogether eleven inches thickness of iron. +Against this three 12-ton shunt guns were fired, at a distance of only +200 yards, with charges varying from 45 lbs. to 60 lbs. of powder. One +steel shot, of 300 lbs. weight, 10-1/2 inches in diameter, fired with +60 lbs. of powder, at a velocity of 1,450 feet per second, barely +broke through the armor, without injuring the backing. Sir William +Armstrong has expressed his conviction, in the _Times_, that the +600-pounder gun will be unable to penetrate this target, and that it +will, in fact, require a gun carrying 120 lbs. of powder and steel +shot to pierce this massive shield. Mr. W. C. Unwin has pointed out, +in a letter to the _Engineer_, that for similar guns with shot of +similar form, and charges in a constant ratio to the weight of the +shot, the velocity is nearly constant. Then, assuming the resistance +of the plates to be as the squares of their thicknesses, it follows +that when the diameter of the shot increases, as well as the thickness +of the armor, the maximum thickness perforated will (by theory) vary +as the cube root of the weight of the shot, or, in other words, as the +calibre of the gun; and the weight of the shot necessary to penetrate +different thicknesses of armor will be as the cubes of those +thicknesses. The ratio deduced from the Shoeburyness experiments is +somewhat less than this, being as the 2.5 power and the 5.2 power +respectively. Practical formula deduced from experiments are given, +which agree with Sir William Armstrong's conclusion, and prove that a +gun which can effectively burn a charge of at least 100 lbs. of powder +will be required to effectually penetrate the side of the _Hercules_. + + +_The Moa's Egg_.--Since our last issue a splendid specimen of the egg +of the Dinornis has been exhibited in this country, put up to auction, +and "bought in" by the proprietors for £125. Some interesting details +concerning the history of gigantic birds' eggs have been supplied by a +contemporary, and we quote them for our readers: In 1854, M. Geoffroy +de St. Hilaire exhibited to the French Academy some eggs of the +Epyornis, a bird which formerly lived in Madagascar. The larger of +these was 12.1 inches long, and 11.8 inches wide; the smaller one was +slightly less than this. The Museum d'Histoire Naturelle at Paris also +contains two eggs, both of which are larger than the one recently put +up for sale, the longer axis of which measures 10 inches, and the +shorter 7 inches. In the discussion which followed the reading of M. +de St. Hilaire's paper, M. Valenciennes stated it was quite impossible +to judge of the size of a bird by the size of its egg, and gave +several instances in point. Mr. Strickland, in some "Notices of the +Dodo and its Kindred," published in the "Annals of Natural History" +for November, 1849, says that in the previous year a Mr. Dumarele, a +highly respectable French merchant at Bourbon, saw at Port Leven, +Madagascar, an enormous egg, which held "_thirteen wine quart bottles +of fluid_." The natives stated that the egg was found in the jungle, +and "observed that such eggs were _very, very rarely_ met with." Mr. +Strickland appears to doubt this, but there seems no reason to do so. +Allowing a pint and a half to each of the so-called "quarts," the egg +would hold 19-1/2 pints. Now, the larger egg exhibited by St. Hilaire +held 17-1/2 pints, as he himself proved. The difference is not so very +great. A word or two about the nests of such gigantic birds. Captain +Cook found, on an island near the north-east coast of New Holland, a +nest "of a most enormous size. It was built with sticks upon the +ground, and was no less than six-and-twenty feet in circumference, and +two feet eight inches high." (Kerr's "Collection of Voyages and +Travels," xiii. 318.) Captain Flinders found two similar nests on the +south coasts of New Holland, in King George's Bay. In his "Voyage, +etc.," London, 1818, he says: "They were built upon the ground, from +which they rose above two feet, and were of vast circumference and +great interior capacity; the branches of trees and other matter of +which each nest was composed being enough to fill a cart."--_The +Reader_. + + + +_The Birds of Siberia_.--In an important treatise, published under the +patronage of the Imperial Geographical Society of St. Petersburg, and +which is the second of a series intended to be issued on Siberian +zoology, the author, Herr Radde, not only records the species, but +gives an account of the period of the migration of Siberian birds. He +{139} gives a list of 368 species, which he refers to the following +orders: Rapaces, 36; Scansores, 19; Oscines, 140; Gallinaceae, 18; +Grallatores, 74; and Natatores, 81. Concerning the migration of +birds, Herr Radde confirms the result arrived at by Von Middendorf in +his learned memoir, "Die Isepiptesen Russlands;" the most important of +them being, (1) that the high table-land of Asia and the bordering +ranges of the Altai, Sajan, and Dauria retard the arrival of the +migratory birds; (2) eastward of the upper Lena, toward the east +coast of Siberia, a considerable retardation of migrants is again +noticeable; and (8) the times of arrival at the northern edge of the +Mongolian high steppes are altogether earlier than those of the same +species on the Amoor. + + +_Plants within Plants_.--In one of the recent numbers of the "Comptes +Rendus," N. Trécul gives an account of some curious observations, +showing that plants sometimes are formed within the cells of existing +ones. He considers that the organic matter of certain vegetable cells +can, when undergoing putrefaction, transform itself into new species, +which differ entirely from the species in which they are produced. In +the bark of the elder, and in plants of the potato and stone-crop +order, he found vesicles full of small tetrahedral bodies containing +starchy matter, and he has seen them gradually transformed into minute +plants by the elongation of one of their angles. + + + +_The Extract of Meat_.--Baron Liebig, who has favored us with some +admirable samples of this excellent preparation, has also forwarded to +us a letter in which he very clearly explains what is the exact +nutritive value of the _extractum carnis_: "The meat," says the baron, +"as it comes from the butcher, contains two different series of +compounds. The first consists of the so-called albuminous principles +(albumen, fibrin) and of glue-forming membrane. Of these, fibrin and +albumen have a high nutritive power, although not if taken by +themselves. The second series consists of crystallizable substances, +viz., creatin, creatinin, sarcin, which are exclusively to be found in +meat; further, of non-crystallizable organic principles and salts +(phosphate and chloride of potassium), which are not to be found +elsewhere. All of these together are called the extractives of meat. +To the second series of substances beef-tea owes its flavor and +efficacy, the same being the case with the _extractum carnis_, which +is, in fact, nothing but solid beef-tea--that is, beef-tea from which +the water has been evaporated. Beside the substances already +mentioned, meat contains, as a non-essential constituent, a varying +amount of fat. Now neither fibrin nor albumen is to be found in the +_extractum carnis_ which bears my name, and gelatine (glue) and fat +are purposely excluded from it. In the preparation of the extract the +albuminous principles are left in the residue. This residue, by the +separation of all soluble principles, which are taken up in the +extract, loses its nutritive power, and cannot be made _an article of +trade_ in any palatable form. Were it possible to furnish the market +at a reasonable price with a preparation of meat containing both the +albuminous and extractive principles, such a preparation would have to +be preferred to the _extractum carnis_, for it would contain all the +nutritive constituents of the meat. But there is, I think, no prospect +of this being realized." These remarks show very clearly the actual +value of the extract. It is, in fact, concentrated beef-tea; but it is +neither the equivalent of flesh on the one hand, nor an imperfectly +nutritive substance on the other. It is, nevertheless, a most valuable +preparation, and now commands an extensive sale in these countries and +abroad; and it is, furthermore, the only valuable form in which the +carcases of South American cattle (heretofore thrown away as +valueless) can be utilized.--_Popular Science Review_. + +------ + +{140} + + +NEW PUBLICATIONS. + + + +LIFE OF THE MOST REVEREND JOHN HUGHES, +D.D., First Archbishop of New York. +With Extracts from his Private Correspondence. By John R. +G. Hassard. Pp. 519. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1866. + +Mr. Hassard is one of our most promising writers. He contributed +several excellent articles to "Appleton's Cyclopaedia," edited "The +Catholic World" with judgment and good taste for several months at its +first establishment, and since that time has occupied the position of +editor of the Chicago "Republican." This is his first literary essay +of serious magnitude, and a more delicate or difficult task could not +well have been confided to his hands. He has fulfilled it with care, +thoroughness, and impartiality. The style in which it is written is +remarkably correct and scholarly, and exhibits a thorough acquaintance +with the English language as well as a pure and discriminating taste +in the choice of words. It is a kind of style which attracts no +attention to itself or to the author, but is simply a medium through +which the subject-matter of the work is presented to the reader's +mind; and this, in our view, is no small merit. The subject-matter +itself is prepared and arranged in a methodical, accurate, and +complete manner, which leaves nothing in that regard to be desired. +The work belongs to that class of historical compositions which +chronicle particular events and incidents, relate facts and +occurrences as they happened, and leave them, for the most part, to +make their own impression. The author has endeavored to take +photographs of his illustrious subject, and of the scenes of his +private and public life, but not to paint a picture or his character +and his times. Those who are already familiar with the scenes, the +persons, and the circumstances brought into view in connection with +the personal history of the archbishop, and who were personally +acquainted with himself, could ask for no more than is furnished in +this biography. We have thought, however, in reading it, that other +readers would miss that filling up and those illuminating touches from +the author's pen which would make the history as vivid and real to +their minds as it is made to our own by memory. A graphic and complete +view of the history of the Catholic Church, so far as Archbishop +Hughes was a principal actor in it, and of the results of his labors +in the priesthood and episcopate, is necessary to a just estimate of +his ecclesiastical career, is still a _desideratum_. In saying this, +we do not intend to find fault with Mr. Hassard for not supplying it. +He has accomplished the task which he undertook in a competent manner, +and produced a work of sterling merit and lasting value. We could wish +that the biographies of several other distinguished prelates, of the +same period, might be written with the same minuteness and fidelity, +and, above all others, those of Bishop England and Archbishop Kenrick. +Very few men could endure the ordeal of passing through the hands of a +biographer so coldly impartial as Mr. Hassard. But those who are able +to pass through it, and who still appear to be great men, and to have +lived a life of great public service, may be certain that their +genuine, intrinsic worth will be recognized after their death, and not +be thought to be the coinage of an interested advocate, or the +furbished counterfeit whose glitter disappears in the crucible. +Moreover, the reader of history will be satisfied that he gets at the +reality of things, and the writer of history that he has authentic +data and materials on which to base his judgments of men and events. +No doubt this species of history would disclose many defects and +weaknesses, many human infirmities and errors, in the individuals who +figure in it, and lay bare much that is unsightly and repulsive in the +state of things as described. This is true of all ecclesiastical +history. Truth dissipates many romantic and poetic illusions of the +imagination, which loves to picture to itself an ideal state of +perfection and ideal heroes far different from the real world and real +men. Nevertheless, it manifests more clearly the heroic and divine +element really existing and working in the world and in men, and +manifesting itself especially in the Catholic Church. {141} We +believe, therefore, that the divinity of the Catholic religion would +only be more clearly exhibited, the more thoroughly its history in the +United States was brought to light. We believe, also, that the +character and works of its valiant and loyal champions will be the +more fully vindicated the more dispassionately and impartially they +are tried and judged. + +A calm consideration of the condition of Catholicity, thirty-five or +forty years ago in this country, in contrast with its present state, +will enable us to judge of the work accomplished by the men who have +been the principal agents in bringing about the change. Let us reflect +for a moment what a difference it would have made in the history of +the Catholic religion here, if some eight or ten of the principal +Catholic champions had not lived; and we may then estimate the power +and influence they have exerted. Leaving aside the numerical and +material extension of the Catholic Church under the administration of +its prelates and the clergy of the second order, we look at the change +in public sentiment alone, and the vindication of the Catholic cause +by argument at the bar of common reason, where it has gained a signal +argumentative triumph over Protestantism and prejudice, through the +ability and courage of its advocates and the soundness of their cause. +The principal men among the first champions of the Catholic faith who +began this warfare were, in the Atlantic states, Dr. Cheverus, Dr. +England, Dr. Hughes, and Dr. Power. We speak from an intimate and +perfect knowledge of the common Protestant sentiment on this matter, +and with a distinct remembrance of the dread which these last three +names, and the veneration which the first of them, inspired. Every one +who knows what the almost universal sentiment of the Protestant +community respecting the Catholic religion and its hierarchy was, is +well aware that it was a sentiment of intense abhorrence mingled with +fear. It was looked upon as a system of preternatural wickedness and +might, and yet, by a strange inconsistency, as a system of utter folly +and absurdity, which no reasonable and conscientious man could +intelligently and honestly embrace. The priesthood were regarded as a +species of human demons, and those among them who possessed +extraordinary ability, were believe to have a diabolical power to make +the worse appear the better reason and the devil an angel of light. +Those whose sanctity was so evident that it broke down all prejudice, +as Bishop Cheverus, were supposed not to be initiated into the +mysteries of the Catholic religion, but to be at heart really +Protestants, blinded to the errors of their system by education, and +duped by their more cunning associates, like "Father Clement" in the +well-known tale of that name. The Catholic clergy were shunned and +ostracised, looked on as outlaws and public enemies, worthy of no +courtesy and no mercy. Their religion was regarded as unworthy of a +hearing, a thing to be scouted and denounced, trampled upon like a +noxious serpent and crushed, _if possible_. _Contempt_ would be the +proper word to express the common estimation of it, if there had not +been too much fear and hatred to make contempt possible. Its +antagonists wished and tried to despise it and its advocates, but +could not. Every sort of calumny and vituperation was showered upon +them by the preachers, the lecturers, and the writers for the press +who made Catholicity their theme. Some, perhaps many, honorable +exceptions, which were always multiplying with time, must be +understood, particularly in Boston, Baltimore, and Charleston. John +Hughes, the poor Irish lad, who had knelt behind the hay-rick on his +father's farm to pray to God and the Blessed Virgin to make him a +priest, who had come to this country with no implement to clear his +way to greatness but the pick and shovel which he manfully grasped, +was one of those who were chosen to lead the van in the assault +against this rampart of prejudice. That he vanquished his proud and +scornful antagonists is an undoubted fact. Beginning his studies, as a +favor reluctantly conceded to him on account of his importunity, at a +later period than usual, with a grammar in one hand and a spade in the +other, he was first a priest, faithful to his duty among many +faithless, courageous and enterprising among many who were timid, +strong among many weak, staunch and unflinching in a time of schism, +scandal, and disaster, and bold enough not only to lay new foundations +for the church of Philadelphia, which others have since built upon, +while the old ones were half crumbled, and to repress mutiny and +disorder in the ranks of his own people, but to {142} attack, +single-handed, the enemies who were exulting over the discord and +feebleness which they thought foreboded the disruption of the Catholic +body. This, too, almost without encouragement, and with no hearty +support from those who were older and more thoroughly trained and +equipped in the service than himself. He became the coadjutor and +successor of the very man who had refused his first application to be +allowed to purchase the privilege of studying under him, by his daily +labor. He died the metropolitan of a province embracing all New York, +New Jersey, and New England, and including eight suffragan bishoprics +with more than a million of Catholics; confessedly the most +conspicuous man among his fellow-bishops in the view of Catholics and +Protestants alike, one of the most trusted and honored of his compeers +at the See of Rome, well known throughout Catholic Christendom, a +confidential adviser and a powerful supporter of the United States +government, a recognized illustrious citizen of the American republic +as well as one of the ornaments of his native country, with all the +signs and tributes of universal honor and respect at his funeral +obsequies which are accorded to distinguished personal character or +official station. Let the most severe and impartial critic apply his +mind to separate, in this distinguished and useful career, the +personal and individual force impelling the man through it, from the +concurrence of Divine Providence, the aid of favorable circumstances +and high position, the supernatural power of the character with which +he was marked, and of the system which he administered, and the +strength and volume of the current of events on which he was borne, +and, if we mistake not, he will find something strong enough to stand +all his tests. An ordinary man might have worked his way into the +priesthood, fulfilled its duties with zeal and success, attained the +episcopal and metropolitan dignity, won respect by his administration, +and left a flourishing diocese to his successor. But an ordinary man +could never have gained the power and influence possessed by +Archbishop Hughes. Our early and original impressions of his +remarkable power of intellect and will have been strengthened and +fixed by reading his biography, and the greatness of the influence +which he exerted in behalf of the Catholic religion is, to our mind, +established beyond a doubt. His chivalrous and valiant combat with +John Breckinridge, at Philadelphia, was a victory not only decisive +but full of results. We know, from a distinct remembrance of the +opinions expressed at the time, that Mr. Breckinridge was generally +thought, by Protestants, to have been discomfited. We have heard him +speak himself of the affair with the tone of one who had exposed +himself to a dangerous encounter with an enemy superior to himself, +for the public good, and barely escaped with his life. We remember +taking up the book containing the controversy, from a sentiment of +curiosity to know what plausible argument could possibly be offered +for the Catholic religion, and undergoing, in the perusal, a +revolution of opinion, which rendered a return to the old state of +mind inherited from a Puritan education impossible. This we believe is +but an instance exemplifying the general effect of the controversy +upon candid and thinking minds, not hopelessly enslaved to prejudice. +We remember hearing him preach in the full vigor of his intellectual +and physical manhood, in the cathedral of New York, soon after his +consecration, and the impression of his whole attitude, countenance, +manner of delivery, and cast of thought is still vivid and _unique_. +Those who have seen the archbishop only during the last fifteen years, +have seen a breaking-down, enfeebled, almost worn-out man, incapable +of steady, vigorous exertion, and oppressed by a weight of care and +responsibility which was too great for him. To judge of his ability +fairly it is necessary to have seen and heard him in his prime, before +ill-health had sapped his vigor. And to appreciate the best and most +genial qualities and dispositions of the man, it is necessary to have +met him in familiar, unrestrained intercourse, apart from any official +relation and away from his diocese--or, at least, in those times when +all official anxieties and cares of government were put aside and his +mind relaxed in purely friendly conversation. That he was a great man, +a true Christian prelate, and accomplished a great work in the service +of the church, of his native countrymen, and of the country of his +adoption, is, we believe, the just verdict of the most competent +judges and of the public at large upon the facts of his life. He will +not be forgotten, for his life and acts are too closely {143} +interwoven with public history and his influence has been too marked +to make that possible. We trust that those who enjoy the blessings of +a securely and peacefully established Catholic Church will not be +disposed to forget the men who, in more troubled times, have won by +their valor the heritage upon which we have entered. The record of +their lives and labors is of great value, and this one, in particular, +is worthy of the perusal of every Catholic and every American, and has +in it a kind of romantic charm and dramatic grouping which does not +belong to the life of one who has been more confined to the seclusion +of study or the ordinary pastoral routine. + +We regret the mention made of Dr. Forbes's defection, and the +publicity which is again given to painful matters which had become +buried in oblivion. It appears to us that, as Dr. Forbes has not +publicly assailed either the church or the late archbishop, it was +unnecessary to allude to him in any way, and it would have been more +generous to have suppressed the remarks made in the archbishop's +private correspondence. The mechanical execution of the work is in +good style, and we recommend it to our readers as necessary to every +Catholic library. + + +AN AMERICAN DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. +By Noah Webster, LL.D. Thoroughly Revised and Greatly Enlarged and +Improved, by Chauncey A. Goodrich, D.D., Late Professor of Rhetoric +and Oratory, and also Professor of the Pastoral Charge in Yale +College, and Noah Porter, D.D., Clark Professor of Moral Philosophy +and Metaphysics in Yale College. Royal quarto, pp. 1840. Springfield, +Mass.: G. & C. Meiriam. 1866. + +There have been published, within the last twenty-five years, several +editions of "Webster's Dictionary," but the present one, the title of +which is given above, seems to be the crowning effort of dictionary +making. It surpasses all other editions of the same work both in its +typography, its illustrations--some 3,000 in number--and its +philological completeness. "Webster's Dictionary" has always been of +high authority in this country, and is now held in great repute in +England, where it is accepted by several writers as the best authority +in defining the English language. The present edition is a most +beautiful one, and contains all the modern words which custom has +engrafted upon our language. It also contains, in its pronouncing +table of Scripture proper names, a supplementary list of the names +found in the Douay Bible, but not in King James's version. In fact, +care has been taken to make this edition as free as possible from +partisan and theological differences in regard to the definitions of +certain words which heretofore got a peculiarly Protestant twitch when +being defined. The publishers deserve great praise for the manner in +which they have done their portion of the work; it is a credit and an +honor to the American press. + + +THE CRITERION; OR, THE TEST OF TALK ABOUT FAMILIAR THINGS: +A Series of Essays. By Henry T. Tuckerman. 12mo., pp. 377. New York: +Hurd & Houghton. 1866. + +Mr. H. T. Tuckerman is a man of letters, and we thought he would not +be likely to put his name to anything discreditable to an enlightened +author; but, to judge from many things in the above production, we +think he has missed his vocation, and would find more appropriate +employment as a contributor to the publications of the American Tract +Society, or the magazine put forth, monthly, by the "Foreign and +Christian Union." Else, why is every pope "shrewd," every priest an +"incarnation of fiery zeal?" why "the lonely existence and the subtle +eye of the Catholic?" why "the medical Jesuit, who, like his religious +prototype, operates through the female branches, and thus controls the +heads of families, regulating their domestic arrangements, etc.?" why +"Bloody Mary" and "Rom_ish?_" why is "superstition the usual trait of +Romanists?" and this: "One may pace the chaste aisles of the +Madeleine, and feel his devotion stirred, perhaps, by the dark +catafalque awaiting the dead in the centre of the spacious floor; and +then what to him is the doctrine of transubstantiation?" (!) We are +truly sorry to see these indications of a spirit with which we think +the author will find very little sympathy outside the clique of +benighted readers of the publications above quoted. + +{144} + +CHRIST THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. +By C. J. Vaughan, D.D., Vicar of Doncaster. 18mo., pp. 269. Alexander +Strahan, London and New York. 1865. + +This beautiful little volume contains twelve sermons, or rather +religious essays, written in a pleasing style, but altogether too +lengthy and too exhaustive in character. We have no doubt but that the +author is a good preacher, and if these essays were ever preached by +him as sermons, they were listened to with pleasure. But in their +present shape, enlarged, systematized, and--shall we say--almost too +carefully prepared for the press, they are a little tiresome. One +feels in reading them how much the naturalness, as well as the +elegance of diction, is marred by the vague evangelical phraseology, +"coming to Christ," "laying hold on Christ," etc., which occurs so +constantly in these pages. The author, being a Low Evangelical +Churchman, gives us, of course, "justification by faith" and the +Calvinistic view of the Fall. Yet, in the latter half of the volume he +seems to speak more like one who imagines that man has something to do +for his own justification, and takes a higher and nobler view of +humanity. We give the following passage from the last sermon, entitled +"Cast out and found," as a good specimen of what we should call +practical preaching. "When Jesus found him, he said unto him. Dost +thou believe on the Son of God? 'Thou!' The word is emphatic in the +original, 'Thou--believest thou?' We are glad to escape into the +crowd, and shelter ourselves behind a church's confession. But a day +is coming, in which nothing but an individual faith will carry with it +either strength or comfort. It will be idle to say in a moment of keen +personal distress, such as probably lies before us in life and +certainly in death and in judgment, 'Every one believes--all around +us believe--the world itself believes in the Son of God:' there is no +strength and no help there: the very object of Christ's finding thee +and speaking to thee is to bring the question home, 'Dost _thou_ +believe?' A trying, a fearful moment, when Christ, face to face with +man's soul, proposes that question! Perhaps that moment has not yet +come to you. You have been fighting it off. You do not wish to come to +these close quarters with it. The world does not press you with it. +The world is willing enough that you should answer it in the general; +and even if you ever say, 'I believe in Jesus Christ his only Son our +Lord,' it shall be in a chorus of voices, almost robbing the +individual of personality, and making 'I' sound like 'we.' But if ever +your religion is to be a real thing, if ever it is to enable you to do +battle with a sin, or to face a mortal risk, if ever it is to be a +religion for the hour of death, or for the day of judgment, you must +have had that question put to you by yourself, and you must have +answered it from the heart in one way. Then you will be a real +Christian, not before!" + +The book is elegantly got up in the style and care for which the +publisher is noted. + + + +BOOKS RECEIVED. + +From P. O'Shea, 27 Barclay street. New York: +Nos. 18, 19, and 20 of Darras' History of the Church. + + +From P. Donahoe, Boston: The Peep o' Day; or, +John Doe, and the Last Baron of Crana. By +the O'Hara Family. 12mo., pp. 204 and 243. + + +From Hon. Wm. H. Seward. Secretary of State, +Washington, his speech on the "Restoration +of the Union," delivered in New York, Feb. 22, 1866. + + +From Peter F. Cunningham, Philadelphia: The Life of Blessed John +Berchmans, of the Society of Jesus. Translated from the French. With +an Appendix, giving an account of the Miracles after Death which have +been approved by the Holy See. From the Italian of Father Boreo, S.J. +1 vol. 12mo., pp. 358. + + +From John Murphy & Co., Baltimore: The Apostleship of Prayer. A Holy +League of Christian Hearts united with the Heart of Jesus, to obtain +the Triumph of the Church and the Salvation of Souls. Preceded by a +Brief of the Sovereign Pontiff Plus IX., the approbation of several +Archbishops and Bishops and Superiors of Religious Congregations. By +the Rev. H. Ramiero, of the Society of Jesus. Translated from the +latest French Edition, and Revised by a Father of the Society. With +the approbation of the Most Rev. Archbishop Spalding. 12mo., pp. 393. + + +From Kelly & Piet, Baltimore: Life in the Cloister; or, Faithful and +True. By the author of "The World and Cloister." 12mo., pp. 224. + +------ +{145} + +THE CATHOLIC WORLD + +VOL. III., NO. 14--MAY, 1866. + + + +[ORIGINAL.] + + +PROBLEMS OF THE AGE. + + +INTRODUCTION. + +We wish to state distinctly and openly, at the outset of this work, +that the solution given of the problems therein discussed is a +solution derived from the Catholic faith. Its sole object will be to +make an exposition of the doctrines of the Catholic faith bearing on +these problems. By an exposition, is not meant a mere expansion or +paraphrase of the articles of the Creed, but such a statement as shall +include an exhibition of their positive, objective truth, or +conformity to the real order of being and existence; and of their +reasonableness or analogy to the special part of that universal order +lying within the reach of rational knowledge. In doing this we choose +what appears to us the best and simplest method. It differs, however, +in certain respects, from the one most in vogue, and therefore +requires a few preliminary words of explanation. + +The usual method is, to proceed as far as possible in the analysis of +the religious truths provable by reason, to introduce afterward the +evidences of revealed religion, and finally to proceed to an +exposition of revealed doctrines. We have no wish to decry the many +valuable works constructed on this plan, but simply to vindicate the +propriety of following another, which is better suited to our special +purpose. We conceive it not to be necessary to follow the first method +in explaining the faith of a Christian mind, because the Christian +mind itself does not actually attain to faith by this method. We do +not proceed by a course of reasoning through natural theology and +evidences of revelation to our Christian belief. We begin by +submitting to instruction, and receiving all it imparts at once, +without preliminaries. The Christian child begins by saying "Credo in +Unum Deum." This is the first article of his faith. It is proposed to +him, by an authority which he reveres as divine, as the first and +principal {146} article of a series of revealed truths. If that act is +right and rational, it can be justified on rational grounds. It can be +shown to be in conformity to the real order. If it is in conformity to +the real order, it is in conformity also to the logical order. The +exposition of the real order of things is the exposition of truth, and +is, therefore, sound philosophy. A child who has attained the full use +of his reason and received competent instruction, either has, or has +not, a faith; not merely objectively certain, but subjectively also, +as certain and as capable of being rationally accounted for, though +not by his own reflection, as that of a theologian. If he has this +subjective certitude, a simple explication of the creditive act in his +mind will show the nature and ground of it in the clearest manner. If +he has not, children and simple persons who are children in science, +_i.e._, the majority of mankind, are incapable of faith--a conclusion +which oversets theology. + +We have now indirectly made known what our own method will be; namely, +to present the credible object in contact or relation with the +creditive subject, as it really is when the child makes the first +complete act of faith. Instead of inviting the reader to begin at the +viewing point of a sceptic or atheist, and reason gradually up from +certain postulates of natural reason, through natural theology, to the +Catholic faith, we invite him to begin at once at the viewing point of +a Catholic believer, and endeavor to get the view which one brought up +in the church takes of divine truth. We do not mean to ask him to take +anything for granted. We will endeavor to show the internal coherence +of Catholic doctrine, and its correspondence with the primitive +judgments of reason. We cannot pretend to exhibit systematically the +evidence sustaining each portion of this vast system. It would only be +doing over again a work already admirably done. We must suppose it to +be known or within the reach of the knowledge of our readers, and in +varying degrees admitted by different classes of them, contenting +ourselves with indicating rather than completing the line of argument +on special topics. + +The Catholic reader will see in this exposition of the Catholic idea +only that which he already believes, stated perhaps in such a way as +to aid his intellectual conception of it. The Protestant reader, +accordingly as he believes less or more of the Catholic Creed, will +see in it less or more to accept without argument, together with much +which he does not accept, but which is proposed to his consideration +as necessary to complete the Christian idea. The unbeliever will find +an affirmation of the necessary truths of pure reason, together with +an attempt to show the legitimate union between the primitive ideal +formula and the revealed or Christian formula, binding them into one +synthesis, philosophically coherent and complete. + +II. + +RELATION OF THE CREDIBLE OBJECT +AND THE CREDITIVE SUBJECT. + +Let us begin with a child, or a simple, uneducated adult, who is in a +state of perpetual childhood as regards scientific knowledge. Let us +take him as a creditive subject or Christian believer, with the +credible object or Catholic faith in contact with his reason from its +earliest dawn. Before proceeding formally to analyze his creditive +act, we will illustrate it by a supposed case. + +Let us suppose that, when our Lord Jesus Christ was upon earth, he +went to visit a pagan in order to instruct him in the truths of +religion. We will suppose him to be intelligent, upright, and sincere, +with as much knowledge of religious truth as was ordinarily attainable +through the heathen tradition. Let us suppose him to receive the +instructions of Christ with faith, to be baptized, and to remain ever +after a firm and undoubting {147} believer in the Christian doctrine. +Now by what process does he attain a rational certitude of the truth +of the revelation made by the lips of Christ? + +In the first place, the human wisdom and virtue of our Lord are +intelligible to him by the human nature common to both, and in +proportion to his own personal wisdom and goodness. Having in himself, +by virtue of his human nature, the essential type of human goodness, +he is able to recognize the excellence of one in whom it is carried to +its highest possible perfection. The human perfection visible in Jesus +Christ predisposes him to believe his testimony. The testimony that +Jesus Christ bears of himself is that he is the Son of God. This +declaration includes two propositions. The chief term of the first +proposition is "God." The chief term of the second proposition is +"Jesus Christ." The first term includes all that can be understood by +the light of reason concerning the Creator and his creative act. The +second term includes all that can be apprehended by the light of faith +concerning the interior relations of God, the incarnation of the Son, +or Word, the entire supernatural order included in it, and the entire +doctrine revealed by Christ. The idea expressed by the first term is +already in the mind of the pagan, as the first and constitutive +principle of his reason. His reflective consciousness of this idea and +his ability to make a correct and complete explication of its contents +are very imperfect. But when the distinct affirmation and explication +of the idea of God are made to him by one who possesses a perfect +knowledge of God, he has an immediate and certain perception of the +truth of the conception thus acquired by his intelligence. God has +already affirmed himself to his reason, and Christ, in affirming God +to his intellect, has only repeated and manifested by sensible images, +and in distinct, unerring language, this original affirmation. + +It is otherwise with the affirmation which Christ makes respecting the +second term. God does not affirm to his reason by the creative act the +internal relations of Father and Son, completed by the third, or Holy +Spirit, and therefore, although it is a necessary truth, and in itself +intelligible as such, it is not intelligible as a necessary truth to +his intellect. The incarnation, redemption, and other mysteries +affirmed to him by Christ, are not in themselves necessary truths, but +only necessary on the supposition that they have been decreed by God. +The certitude of belief in all this second order of truths rests, +therefore, entirely on the veracity of God, authenticating the +affirmation of his own divine mission made by Jesus Christ. We must, +therefore, suppose that this affirmation is made to the mind of the +pagan with such clear and unmistakable evidence of the fact that the +veracity of God is pledged to its truth, that it would be irrational +to doubt it. Catholic doctrine also requires us to suppose that Christ +imparts to him a supernatural grace, as the principle of a divine +faith and a divine life based upon it. The nature and effect of this +grace must be left for future consideration. + +These truths received on the faith of the testimony of the Son of God +by the pagan are not, however, entirely unintelligible to his natural +reason. We can suppose our Lord removing his difficulties and +misapprehensions, showing him that these truths do not contradict +reason, but harmonize with it as far as it goes, and pointing out to +him certain analogies in the natural order which render them partially +apprehensible by his intellect. Thus, while his mind cannot penetrate +into the substance of these mysteries, or grasp the intrinsic reason +of them after the mode of natural knowledge, it can nevertheless see +them indirectly, as reflected in the natural order, and by +resemblance, and rests its undoubting belief of them on the revelation +made by Jesus Christ, attested by the veracity of God. + +{148} + +In this supposed case, the pagan has the Son of God actually before +his eyes, and with his own ears can hear his words. This is the +credible object. He is made inwardly certain that he is the Son of God +by convincing evidence and the illustration of divine grace. This is +the creditive subject, in contact with the credible object. It +exemplifies the process by which God has instructed the human race +from the beginning, a process carried on in the most perfect and +successful manner in the instance we are about to examine of a child +brought up in the Catholic Church. + +The mind of the child has no prejudices and no imperfect conceptions +derived from a perverted and defective instruction to be rectified. +Its soul is in the normal and natural condition. The grace of faith is +imparted to it in baptism, so that the rational faculties unfold under +its elevating and strengthening influence with a full capacity to +elicit the creditive act as soon as they are brought in contact with +the credible object. This credible object, in the case of the child, +as in that of the pagan, is Christ revealing himself and the Father. +He reveals himself, however, not by his visible form to the eye, or +his audible word to the ear, but by his mystical body the church, +which is a continuation and amplification of his incarnation. The +church is visible and audible to the child as soon as his faculties +begin to open. At first this is only in an imperfect way, as Jesus +Christ was at first only known in an imperfect way to the pagan above +described. As he merely knew Christ at first as a man, and in a purely +human way, so the child receives the instruction of his parents, +teachers, and pastors, in whom the church is represented, in regard to +the truths of faith, just as he does in regard to common matters. He +begins with a human faith, founded in the trusting instincts of +nature, which incline the young to believe and obey their superiors. +As soon as his reason is capable of understanding the instruction +given him, he is able to discover the strong probability of its truth. +He sees this dimly at first, but more and more clearly as his mind +unfolds, and the conception of the Catholic Church comes before it +more distinctly. Some will admit that even a probability furnishes a +sufficient motive for eliciting an act of perfect faith. This is the +doctrine of Cardinal de Lugo, and it has been more recently propounded +by that extremely acute and brilliant writer, Dr. John Henry Newman. +[Footnote 24] + + [Footnote 24: Since the above was written the author has seen reason + to suspect that he misunderstood Dr. Newman. The point will be more + fully discussed hereafter.] + +According to their theory, the undoubting firmness of the act of faith +is caused by an imperate act of the will determining the intellect to +adhere firmly to the doctrine proposed, as revealed by God. There are +many, however, who will not be satisfied with this, and we acknowledge +that we are of the number. It appears to us that the mind must have +indubitable certitude that God has revealed the truth in order to a +perfect act of faith. Therefore we believe that the mind of the child +proceeds from the first apprehension of the probability that God has +revealed the doctrines of faith to a certitude of the fact, and that, +until it reaches that point, its faith is a human faith, or an +inchoate faith, merely. The ground and nature of that certitude will +be discussed hereafter. In the meantime, it is sufficient to remark +that the child or other ignorant person apprehends the very same +ground of certitude in faith with the mature and educated adult, only +more implicitly and obscurely, and with less power to reflect on his +own acts. Just as the child has the same certainty of facts in the +natural order with an adult, so it has the same certainty of facts in +the supernatural order. When we have once established the proper +ground of human faith in testimony in general, and of the certitude of +our rational judgments, we have no need of a particular application to +the case of {149} children. It is plain enough that, so soon as their +rational powers are sufficiently developed, they must act according to +this universal law. So in regard to faith. When we have established in +general its constitutive principles, it is plain that the mind of the +child, just as soon as it is capable of eliciting an act of faith, +must do it according to these principles. + +The length of lime, and the number of preparatory acts requisite, +before the mind of a child is fully capable of eliciting a perfect act +of faith, cannot be accurately determined, and may vary indefinitely. +It may require years, months, or only a few weeks, days, or hours. +Whenever it does elicit this perfect act, the intelligible basis of +the creditive act may be expressed by the formula, _Christus creat +ecclesiam_, [Footnote 25] In the church, which is the work of Christ +and his medium or instrument for manifesting himself, the person and +the doctrine of Christ are disclosed. In the first term of the +formula, _Christus_, is included another proposition, viz., _Christus +est Filius Dei_. [Footnote 26] Finally, in the last term of the +second proposition is included a third, _Deus est creator mundi_. +[Footnote 27] The whole may be combined into one formula, which is +only the first one explicated, _Christus, Filius Dei, qui est creator +mundi, creat ecclesiam._[Footnote 28] + + [Footnote 25: Christ creates the Church.] + + [Footnote 26: Christ Is the Son of God.] + + [Footnote 27: God is the creator of the world.] + + [Footnote 28: Christ, the Son of God, who is the creator of the + world, creates the Church.] + +In this formula we have the synthesis of reason and faith, of +philosophy and theology, of nature and grace. It is the formula of the +natural and supernatural worlds, or rather of the natural universe, +elevated into a supernatural order and directed to a supernatural end. +In the order of instruction, _Ecclesia_ comes first, as the medium of +teaching correct conceptions concerning God, Christ, and the relations +in which they stand toward the human race. These conceptions may be +communicated in positive instruction in any order that is convenient. +When they are arranged in their proper logical relation, the first in +order is _Deus creat mundum_, including all our rational knowledge +concerning God. The second is _Christus est Filius Dei_, which +discloses God in a relation above our natural cognition, revealing +himself in his Son, as the supernatural author and the term of final +beatitude. Lastly comes _Christus creat ecclesiam_, in which the +church, at first simply a medium for communicating the conceptions of +God and Christ, is reflexively considered and explained, embracing all +the means and institutions ordained by Christ for the instruction and +sanctification of the human race, in order to the attainment of its +final end. In the conception of God the Creator, we have the natural +or intelligible order and the rational basis of revelation. In the +conception of the Son, or Word, we have the super-intelligible order +in its connection with the intelligible, in which alone we can +apprehend it. God reveals himself and his purposes by his Word, and we +believe on the sole ground of his veracity. The remaining conceptions +are but the complement of the second. + +All this is expressed in the Apostles' Creed. In the first place, by +its very nature, it is a symbol of instruction, presupposing a +teacher. The same is expressed in the first word, "Credo," explicitly +declaring the credence given to a message sent from God. The first +article is a confession of God the Father, followed by the confession +of the Son and the Holy Ghost. After this comes "Sanctam Ecclesiam +Catholicam," with the other articles depending on it, and lastly the +ultimate term of all the relations of God to man, expressed in the +words "Vitam aeternam." + +Having described the actual attitude of the mind toward the Creed at +the time when its reasoning faculty is developed, and the method by +which {150} instruction in religious doctrines is communicated to it, +we will go over these doctrines in detail, in order to explain and +verify them singly and as a whole. The doctrine first in order is that +which relates to God, and this will accordingly be first treated of, +in the ensuing number. + +------ + +From The Dublin University Magazine + + +GLASTONBURY ABBEY, PAST AND PRESENT, + +THE RISE OF THE BENEDICTINES. [Footnote 29] + + [Footnote 29: Authorities.--Acta Sanctoram: Butler's Lives of the + Saints; Gregory's Dialogues; Mabillon Acta Sanct.; Ord; Benedicti; + Zeigelbauer's Hist. Rei Liter.; Fosbrooke and Dugdale.] + +As Glastonbury Abbey was one of the chief ornaments of the Benedictine +Order; as that order was one of the greatest influences, next to +Christianity itself, ever brought to bear upon humanity; as the +founder of that order and sole compiler of the rule upon which it was +based must have been a legislator, a leader, a great, wise, and good +man, such as the world seldom sees, one who, unaided, without example +or precedent, compiled a code which has ruled millions of beings and +made them a motive-power in the history of humanity; as the work done +by that order has left traces in every country in Europe--lives and +acts now in the literature, arts, sciences, and social life of nearly +every civilized community--it becomes imperatively necessary that we +should at this point investigate these three matters--the man, the +rule, and the work:--the man, St. Benedict, from whose brain issued +the idea of monastic organization; the rule by which it was worked, +which contains a system of legislation as comprehensive as the +gradually compiled laws of centuries of growth; and the work done by +those who were subject to its power, followed out its spirit, lived +under its influence, and carried it into every country where the +gospel was preached. + +Far away in olden times, at the close of the fifth century, when the +gorgeous splendor of the Roman day was waning and the shades of that +long, dark night of the middle ages were closing in upon the earth; +just at that period when, as if impelled by some instinct or led by +some mysterious hand, there came pouring down from the wilds of +Scandinavia hordes of ferocious barbarians who threatened, as they +rolled on like a dark flood, to obliterate all traces of civilization +in Europe--when the martial spirit of the Roman was rapidly +degenerating into the venal valor of the mercenary--when the western +empire had fallen, after being the tragic theatre of scenes to which +there is no parallel in the history of mankind--when men, aghast at +human crime and writhing under the persecutions of those whom history +has branded as the "Scourge of God," sought in vain for some shelter +against their kind--when human nature, after that struggle between +refined corruption and barbarian ruthlessness, lay awaiting the night +of troubles which was to fall upon it as a long penance for human +crime--just at this critical period in the world's history appeared +the man who was destined to rescue from the general destruction of +Roman life the elements of a future civilization; to provide an asylum +to which art might flee with her choicest treasures, where science +might labor in safety, where {151} learning might perpetuate and +multiplied its stores, where the oracles of religion might rest +secure, and where man might retire from the woe and wickedness of a +world given up to destruction, live out his life in quiet, and make +his peace with his God. + +That man was St. Benedict, who was born of noble parents about the +year 480, at Norcia, a town in the Duchy of Spoleto; his father's name +was Eutropius, his grandfather's Justinian. Although the glory of Rome +was on the decline, her schools were still crowded with young +disciples of all nations, and to Rome the future saint was sent to +study literature and science. The poets of this declining age have +left behind them a graphic picture of the profligacy and dissipation +of Roman life---the nobles had given themselves up to voluptuous and +enervating pleasures, the martial spirit which had once found vent in +deeds with whose fame the world has ever since rung, had degenerated +into the softer bravery which dares the milder dangers of a love +intrigue, or into the tipsy valor loudest in the midnight brawl. The +sons of those heroes who in their youth had gone out into the world, +subdued kingdoms, and had been drawn by captive monarchs through the +streets of Rome in triumph, now squandered the wealth and disgraced +the name of their fathers over the dice-box and the drinking cup. +Roman society was corrupt to its core, the leaders were sinking into +the imbecility of licentiousness, the people were following their +steps with that impetuosity so characteristic of a demoralized +populace, whilst far up in the rude, bleak North the barbarian, with +the keen instinct of the wild beast, sat watching from his lonely +wilds the tottering towers of Roman glory--the decaying energies of +the emasculated giant--until the moment came when he sallied forth and +with one hardy blow shattered the mighty fabric and laid the victors +of the world in abject slavery at his feet. Into this society came the +youthful Benedict, with all the fresh innocence of rustic purity, and +a soul already yearning after the great mysteries of religion; +admitted into the wild revelry of student life, that prototype of +modern Bohemianism, he was at once disgusted with the general +profligacy around him. The instincts of his youthful purity sickened +at the fetid life of Rome, but in his case time, instead of +reconciling him to the ways of his fellows, and transforming, as it so +often does, the trembling horror of natural innocence into the wild +intrepidity of reckless license, only strengthened his disgust for +what he saw, and the timid, thoughtful, pensive student shrank from +the noisy revelry, and sought shelter among his books. + +About this time, too, the idea of penitential seclusion was prevalent +in the West, stimulated by the writings and opinions of St. Augustine +and St. Jerome. It has been suggested that the doctrine of asceticism +was founded upon the words of Christ, "If any man will come after me, +let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." [Footnote +30] St. Gregory himself dwells with peculiar emphasis upon this +passage, which he expounds thus, "Let us listen to what he said in +this passage--let him who will follow me deny himself; in another +place it is said that we should forego our possessions; here it is +said that we should deny _ourselves_, and perhaps it is not laborious +to a man to relinquish his possessions, but it is very laborious to +relinquish _himself_. For it is a light thing to abandon what one has, +but a much greater thing to abandon what _one is_." [Footnote 31] +Fired by the notion of self-mortification imparted to these words of +Christ by their own material interpretation, these men forsook the +world and retired to caves, rocks, forests, anywhere out of sight of +{152} their fellow-mortals--lived on bitter herbs and putrid water, +exposed themselves to the inclemency of the winter and the burning +heats of summer. + + [Footnote 30: Matt. xvi. 24.] + + [Footnote 31: St. Greg. Hom, 32 in Evangel.] + +Such was the rise and working of asceticism, which brought out so many +anchorites and hermits. Few things in the history of human suffering +can parallel the lives of these men. + +As regards conventual life, that is, the assemblage of those who +ministered in the church under one roof, sharing all things in common, +that may be traced back to the apostles and their disciples, who were +constrained to live in this way, and, therefore, we find that wherever +they established a church, there they also established a sort of +college, or common residence, for the priests of that church. This is +evident from the epistles of Ignatius, nearly all, of which conclude +with a salutation addressed to this congregation of disciples, +dwelling together, and styled a "collegium." His epistle to the Church +at Antioch concludes thus, "I salute the sacred College of Presbyters" +(Saluto Sanctum Presbyterorum Collegium). The Epistle ad Philippenses, +"Saluto S. Episcopum et sacrum Presbyterorum Collegium"--so also the +epistles to the Philadelphians, the Church at Smyrna, to the +Ephesians, and to the Trallians. + +But when St. Benedict was sent as a lad to Rome, the inclination +toward the severer form of ascetic life, that of anchorites and +hermits, had received an impulse by the works of the great fathers of +the church, already alluded to; and the pensive student, buried in +these more congenial studies, became imbued with their spirit, and was +soon fired with a romantic longing for a hermit life. At the tender +age of fifteen, unable to endure any longer the dissonance between his +desires and his surroundings, he flood from Rome, and took refuge in a +wild, cavernous spot in the neighboring country. As he left the city +he was followed by a faithful nurse, Cyrilla by name, who had brought +him up from childhood, had tended him in his sojourn at Rome, and now, +though lamenting his mental derangement, as she regarded it, resolved +not to leave her youthful charge to himself, but to watch over him and +wait upon him in his chosen seclusion. For some time this life went +on, St. Benedict becoming more and more attached to his hermitage, and +the nurse, despairing of any change, begged his food from day to day, +prepared it for him, and watched over him with a mother's tenderness. +A change then came over the young enthusiast, and he began to feel +uneasy under her loving care. It was not the true hermit life, not the +realization of that grand idea of solitude with which his soul was +filled; and under the impulse of this new emotion he secretly fled +from the protection of his foster-mother, and, without leaving behind +him the slightest clue to his pursuit, hid himself among the rocks of +Subiaco, or, as it was then called, Sublaqueum, about forty miles +distant from Rome. At this spot, which was a range of bleak, rocky +mountains with a river and lake below in the valley, he fell in with +one Romanus, a monk, who gave him a monastic dress, with a hair shirt, +led him to a part on the mountains where there was a deep, narrow +cavern, into which the sun never penetrated, and here the young +anchorite took up his abode, subsisting upon bread and water, or the +scanty provisions which Romanus could spare him from his own frugal +repasts; these provisions the monk used to let down to him by a rope, +ringing a bell first to call his attention. For three years he pursued +this life, unknown to his friends, and cut off from all communication +with the world; but neither the darkness of his cavern nor the +scantiness of his fare could preserve him from troubles. He was +assailed by many sore temptations. + +One day that solitude was disturbed by the appearance of a man in the +{153} garb of a priest, who approached his cave and began to address +him; but Benedict would hold no conversation with the stranger until +they had prayed together, after which they discoursed for a long time +upon sacred subjects, when the priest told him of the cause of his +coming. The day happened to be Easter Sunday, and as the priest was +preparing his dinner, he heard a voice saying, "You are preparing a +banquet for yourself, whilst my servant Benedict is starving;" that he +thereupon set out upon his journey, found the anchorite's cave, and +then producing the dinner, begged St. Benedict to share it with him, +after which they parted. A number of shepherds, too, saw him near his +cave, and as he was dressed in goat-skins, took him at first for some +strange animal; but when they found he was a hermit, they paid their +respects to him humbly, brought him food, and implored his blessing in +return. + +The fame of the recluse of Subiaco spread itself abroad from that time +through the neighboring country; many left the world and followed his +example; the peasantry brought their sick to him to be healed, +emulated each other in their contributions to his personal +necessities, and undertook long journeys simply to gaze upon his +countenance and receive his benediction. Not far from his cave were +gathered together in a sort of association a number of hermits, and +when the fame of this youthful saint reached them they sent a +deputation to ask him to come among them and take up his position as +their superior. It appears that this brotherhood had become rather lax +in discipline, and, knowing this, St. Benedict at first refused, but +subsequently, either from some presentiment of his future destiny, or +actuated simply by the hope of reforming them, he consented, left his +lonely cell, and took up his abode with them as their head. + +In a very short time, however, the hermits began to tire of his +discipline and to envy him for his superior godliness. An event then +occurred which forms the second cognizance by which the figure of St. +Benedict may be recognized in the fine arts. Endeavors had been made +to induce him to relax his discipline, but to no purpose; therefore +they resolved upon getting rid of him, and on a certain day, when the +saint called out for some wine to refresh himself after a long +journey, one of the brethren offered him a poisoned goblet. St. +Benedict took the wine, and, as was his custom before eating or +drinking anything, blessed it, when the glass suddenly fell from his +hands and broke in pieces. This incident is immortalized in +stained-glass windows, in paintings, and frescoes, where the saint is +either made to carry a broken goblet, or it is to be seen lying at his +feet. Disgusted with their obstinacy he left them, voluntarily +returned to his cavern at Subiaco, and dwelt there alone. But the +fates conspired against his solitude, and a change came gradually over +the scene. Numbers were drawn toward the spot by the fame of his +sanctity, and by-and-bye huts sprang up around him; the desert was no +longer a desert, but a colony waiting only to be organized to form a +strong community. Yielding at length to repeated entreaties, he +divided this scattered settlement into twelve establishments, with +twelve monks and a superior in each, and the monasteries were soon +after recognized, talked about, and proved a sufficient attraction to +draw men from all quarters, even from the riotous gaieties of +declining Rome. + +We will mention one or two incidents related of St. Benedict, which +claim attention, more especially as being the key to the artistic +mysteries of Benedictine pictures. It was one of the customs in this +early Benedictine community for the brethren not to leave the church +immediately after the divine office was concluded, but to remain for +some time in silent mental prayer. One of the brethren, however, took +no delight in this holy {154} exercise, and to the scandal of the +whole community used to walk coolly out of the church as soon as the +psalmody was over. The superior remonstrated, threatened, but to no +purpose; the unruly brother persisted in his conduct. St. Benedict was +appealed to, and when he heard the circumstances of the case, said he +would see the brother himself. Accordingly, he attended the church, +and at the conclusion of the divine office, not only saw the brother +walk out, but saw also what was invisible to every one else--a _black +boy_ leading him by the hand. The saint then struck at the phantom +with his staff, and from that time the monk was no longer troubled, +but remained after the service with the rest. + +St. Gregory also relates an incident to the effect that one day as a +Gothic monk was engaged on the border of the lake cutting down +thistles, he let the iron part of his sickle, which was loose, fall +into the water. St. Maur, one of Benedict's disciples--of whom we +shall presently speak--happened to be standing by, and, taking the +wooden handle from the man, he held it to the water, when the iron +swam to it in miraculous obedience. + +As we have said, the monasteries grew daily in number of members and +reputation; people came from far and near, some belonging to the +highest classes, and left their children at the monastery to be +trained up under St. Benedict's protection. Amongst this number, in +the year 522, came two wealthy Roman senators, Equitius and Tertullus, +bringing with them their sons, Maurus, then twelve years of age, and +Placidus, only five. They begged earnestly that St. Benedict would +take charge of them, which he did, treated them as if they had been +his own sons, and ultimately they became monks under his rule, lived +with him all his life, and after his death became the first +missionaries of his order in foreign countries, where Placidus won the +crown of martyrdom. Again, St. Benedict nearly fell a victim to +jealousy. A priest named Florentius, envying his fame, endeavored to +poison him with a loaf of bread, but failed. Benedict once more left +his charge in disgust; but Florentius, being killed by the sudden fall +of a gallery, Maurus sent a messenger after him to beg him to return, +which he did, and not only wept over the fate of his fallen enemy, but +imposed a severe penance upon Maurus for testifying joy at the +judgment which had befallen him. The incident of the poisoned loaf is +the third artistic badge by which St. Benedict is to be known in art, +being generally painted as a loaf with a serpent coiled round it. +These artistic attributes form a very important feature in monastic +painting, and in some instances become the only guide to the +recognition him the subject. St. Benedict is sometimes represented +with all these accompaniments--the broken goblet, the loaf with the +serpent, and in the background the figure rolling in the briers. St. +Bernard, who wrote much and powerfully against heresy, is represented +with the accompanying incident in the background of demons chained to +a rock, or being led away captive, to indicate his triumphs over +heretics for the faith. Demons placed at the feet indicate Satan and +the world overcome. Great preachers generally carry the crucifix, or, +if a renowned missionary, the standard and cross. Martyrs carry the +palm. A king who has resigned his dignity and entered a monastery has +a crown lying at his feet. A book held in the hand represents the +gospel, unless it be accompanied by pen and ink-horn, when it implies +that the subject was an author, as in the case of Anselm, who is +represented as holding in his hands his work on the incarnation, with +the title inscribed, "_Cur Deus Homo_," or it may relate to an +incident in the life, as the blood-stained book, which St. Boniface +holds, entitled "De Bono Mortis," a work he was devotedly fond of, +always {155} carried about with him, and which was found after his +murder in the folds of his dress stained with his blood. But the +highest honor was the stigmata or wounds of Christ impressed upon the +hands, feet, and side. This artistic pre-eminence is accorded to St. +Francis, the founder of the order which bears his name, and to St. +Catharine, of Siena. A whole world of history lies wrapped up in these +artistic symbols, as they appear in the marvellous paintings +illustrative of the hagiology of the monastic orders which are +cherished in half the picture galleries and sacred edifices of Europe, +and form as it were a living testimony and a splendid confirmation of +the written history and traditions of the church. + +Although, at the period when we left St. Benedict reinstalled in his +office as superior, Christianity was rapidly being established in the +country, yet there were still lurking about in remote districts of +Italy the remains of her ancient paganism. Near the spot now called +Monte Cassino was a consecrated grove in which stood a temple +dedicated to Apollo. St. Benedict resolved upon clearing away this +relic of heathendom, and, fired with holy seal, went amongst the +people, preached the gospel of Christ to them, persuaded them at +length to break the statue of the god and pull down the altar; he then +burned the grove and built two chapels there--the one dedicated to St. +John the Baptist and the other to St. Martin. Higher up upon the +mountain he laid the foundation of his celebrated monastery, which +still bears his name, and here he not only gathered together a +powerful brotherhood, but elaborated that system which infused new +vigor into the monastic life, cleared it of its impurities, +established it upon a firm and healthy basis, and elevated it, as +regards his own order, into a mighty power, which was to exert an +influence over the destinies of humanity inferior only to that of +Christianity itself. St. Benedict, with the keen perception of genius, +saw in the monasticism of his time, crude as it was, the elements of a +great system. For five centuries it had existed and vainly endeavored +to develop itself into something like an institution, but the grand +idea had never yet been struck out--that idea which was to give it +permanence and strength. Hitherto the monk had retired from the world +to work out his own salvation, caring little about anything else, +subsisting on what the devotion of the wealthy offered him from +motives of charity; then, as time advanced, they acquired possessions +and wealth, which tended only to make them more idle and selfish. St. +Benedict detected in all this the signs of decay, and resolved on +revivifying its languishing existence by starting a new system, based +upon a rule of life more in accordance with the dictates of reason. He +was one of those who held as a belief that to live in this world a man +must do something--that life which consumes, but produces not, is a +morbid life, in fact, an impossible life, a life that must decay, and +therefore, imbued with the importance of this fact, he made labor, +continuous and daily labor, the great foundation of his rule. His vows +were like those of other institutions--poverty, chastity, and +obedience--but he added labor, and in that addition, as we shall +endeavor presently to show, lay the whole secret of the wondrous +success of the Benedictine Order. To every applicant for admission, +these conditions were read, and the following words added, which were +subsequently adopted as a formula: "This is the law under which thou +art to live and to strive for salvation; if thou canst observe it, +enter; if not, go in peace, thou art free." No sooner was his +monastery established than it was filled by men who, attracted by his +fame and the charm of the new mode of life, came and eagerly implored +permission to submit themselves to his rule. Maurus and Placidus, his +favorite disciples, still {156} remained with him, and the tenor of +his life flowed on evenly. + +After Belisarius, the emperor's general, had been recalled, a number +of men totally incapacitated for their duties were sent in his place. +Totila, who had recently ascended the Gothic throne, at once invaded +and plundered Italy; and in the year 542, when on his triumphant +march, after defeating the Byzantine army, he was seized with a strong +desire to pay a visit to the renowned Abbot Benedict, who was known +amongst them as a great prophet. He therefore sent word to Monte +Cassino to announce his intended visit, to which St. Benedict replied +that he would be happy to receive him. On receiving the answer he +resolved to employ a stratagem to test the real prophetic powers of +the abbot, and accordingly, instead of going himself, he caused the +captain of the guard to dress himself in the imperial robes, and, +accompanied by three lords of the court and a numerous retinue, to +present himself to the abbot as the kingly visitor. However, as soon +as they entered into his presence, the abbot detected the fraud, and, +addressing the counterfeit king, bid him put off a dress which did not +belong to him. In the utmost alarm they all fled back to Totila and +related the result of their interview; the unbelieving Goth, now +thoroughly convinced, went in proper person to Monte Cassino, and, on +perceiving the abbot seated waiting to receive him, he was overcome +with terror, could go no further, and prostrated himself to the +ground. [Footnote 32] St. Benedict bid him rise, but as he seemed +unable, assisted him himself. A long conversation ensued, during which +St. Benedict reproved him for his many acts of violence, and concluded +with this prophetic declaration: "You have done much evil, and +continue to do so; you will enter Rome; you will cross the sea; you +will reign nine years longer, but death will overtake you on the +tenth, when you will be arraigned before a just God to give an account +of your deeds." Totila trembled at this sentence, besought the prayers +of the abbot, and took his leave. The prediction was marvellously +fulfilled; in any case the interview wrought a change in the manner of +this Gothic warrior little short of miraculous, for from that time he +treated those whom he had conquered with gentleness. When he took +Rome, as St. Benedict had predicted he should, he forbade all carnage, +and insisted on protecting women from insult; stranger still, in the +year 552, only a little beyond the time allotted him by the +prediction, he fell in a battle which he fought against Narses, the +eunuch general of the Greco-Roman army. St. Benedict's sister, +Scholastica, who had become a nun, discovered the whereabouts of her +lost brother, came to Monte Cassino, took up her residence near him, +and founded a convent upon the principles of his rule. She was, +therefore, the first Benedictine nun, and is often represented in +paintings, prominent in that well-known group composed of herself, St. +Benedict, and the two disciples, Maurus and Placidus. + + [Footnote 32: "Quem cum a longe sedentem cerneret, non ausus + accedero sese in terram dedit."--St. Greg. Dial., lib. ii., c. 14.] + +It appears that her brother was in the habit of paying her a visit +every year, and upon one occasion stayed until late in the evening, so +late that Scholastica pressed him not to leave; but he persisting, she +offered a prayer that heaven might interpose and prevent his going, +when suddenly a tempest came on so fierce and furious that he was +compelled to remain until it was over, when he returned to his +monastery. Two days after this occurrence, as he was praying in his +cell, he beheld the soul of his beloved sister ascending to heaven in +the form of a dove, and the same day intelligence was brought him of +her death. This vision forms the subject of many of the pictures in +Benedictine nunneries. One short month after the decease of this +affectionate sister, St. {157} Benedict, through visiting and +attending to the sick and poor in his neighborhood, contracted a fever +which prostrated him; he immediately foretold his death, and ordered +the tomb in which his sister lay in the church to be opened. On the +sixth day of his illness he asked to be carried to it, where he +remained for some time in silent, prayerful contemplation; he then +begged to be removed to the steps of the high alter, where, having +received the holy viaticum, he suddenly stretched out his arms to +heaven and fell back dead. This event took place on Saturday, the 21st +March, 543, in the 63d year of his age. He was buried by the side of +his sister Scholastica, on the very spot, it is said, where he threw +down the altar of Apollo. In the seventh century, however, some of his +remains were dug up, brought to France, and placed in the Abbey of +Fleury, from which circumstance it took the name of St. Benoit, on the +Loire. After his death his disciples spread themselves abroad over the +continent and founded monasteries of his name and rule. Placidus +became a martyr, and was canonized; Maurus founded a monastery in +France, was also introduced to England, and from his canonized name, +St. Maurus, springs one of the oldest English names--St. Maur, +Seymaur, or Seymour. + +Divesting this narrative of its legendary accompaniments, and judging +of St. Benedict, the man, by the subsequent success of his work, and +the influence of his genius upon the whole mechanism of European +monasticism, and even upon the destinies of a later civilization, we +are compelled to admit that he must have been a man whose intellect +and character were far in advance of his age. By instituting the vow +of labor, that peculiarity in his rule which we shall presently +examine more fully, he struck at the root of the evils attending the +monasticism of his times, an evil which would have ruined it as an +institution in the fifth century had he not interposed, and an evil +which in the sixteenth century alone caused its downfall in England. + +Before proceeding to examine the rule upon which all the greatness of +the Benedictine order was based, it will be necessary to mention the +two, earliest mission efforts of the order. The first was conducted +under the immediate direction of St. Benedict himself, who in the year +534 sent Placidus, with two others, Gordian and Donatus, into Sicily, +to erect a monastery upon land which Tertullus, the father of +Placidus, had given to St. Benedict. Shortly after the death of the +saint, Innocent, bishop of Mans, in France, sent Flodegarde, his +archdeacon, and Hardegarde, his steward, to ask for the assistance of +some monks of St. Benedict's monastery, for the purpose of introducing +the order into France. St. Maurus was selected for the mission, and, +accompanied by Simplicius, Constantinian, Antony, and Faustus, he set +out from Monte Cassino, and arrived in France the latter end of the +year 543; but to their great consternation, upon reaching Orleans, +they were told that the Bishop of Mans was dead, and another hostile +to their intentions had succeeded him. They then bent their steps +toward Anjou, where they founded the monastery of Glanfeuil, from +whose cloisters issued the founders of nearly all the Benedictine +institutions in France. From these two centres radiated that mighty +influence which we shall now proceed to examine. + +As we have in a former paper sketched the internal structure of the +monastery, we will before going further fill each compartment with its +proper officers, people the whole monastery with its subjects, and +then examine the law which kept them together. + +The abbot was, of course, the head and ruler of the little kingdom, +and when that officer died the interval between his death and the +installation {158} of his successor was beautifully called the +"widowhood of the monastery." The appointment was considered to rest +with the king, though the Benedictine rule enjoined a previous +election by the monks and then the royal sanction. This election was +conducted in the chapter-house: the prior who acted as abbot daring +the time the mitre was vacant summoned the monks at a certain hour, +the license to elect was then read, the hymn of the Holy Ghost sung, +all who were present and had no vote were ordered to leave, the +license was repeated--three scrutators took the votes separately, and +the chanter declared the result--the monks then lifted up the elect on +their shoulders, and, chanting the _Te Deum_, carried him to the high +altar in the church, where he lay whilst certain prayers were said +over him; they then carried him to the vacant apartments of the late +abbot, which were thrown open, and where he remained in strict +seclusion until the formal and magnificent ceremony of installation +was gone through. In the meantime the aspect of the monastery was +changed, the signs of mourning were laid aside, the bells which had +been silent were once more heard, the poor were again admitted and +received relief, and preparations were at once commenced for the +installation. Outside also there was a commotion, for the peasantry, +and in fact all the neighborhood, joined in the rejoicings. The +immense resources of the refectory were taxed to their utmost, for the +installation of the lord abbot was a feast, and to it were invited all +the nobility and gentry in the neighborhood. On the day of the +ceremony the gate of the great church was thrown open to admit all who +were to witness the solemn ceremony, and, as soon as the bells had +ceased, the procession began to move from the cloisters, headed by the +prior, who was immediately followed by the priest of the divine +office, clad in their gorgeous ceremonial robes; then followed the +monks, in scapulary and cowled tunic, and last of all the lay brethren +and servants; the newly elect and two others who were to officiate in +his installation remained behind, as they were not to appear until +later. The prior then proceeded to say mass, and just before the +gospel was read there was a pause, during which the organ broke out +into strains of triumphant music, and the newly chosen abbot with his +companions were seen to enter the church, and walk slowly up the aisle +toward the altar. As they approached they were met by the prior (or +the bishop, if the abbey were in the jurisdiction of one), who then +read the solemn profession, to which the future abbot responded; the +prior and the elect then prostrated themselves before the high altar, +in which position they remained whilst litanies and prayers were +chanted; after the litany the prior arose, stood on the highest step +of the altar, and whilst all were kneeling in silence pronounced the +words of the benediction; then all arose, and the abbot received from +the hands of the prior the rule of the order and the pastoral staff, a +hymn was sung, and, after the gospel, the abbot communicated, and +retired with his two attendants, to appear again in the formal +ceremony of introduction. During his absence the procession was +re-formed by the chanter, and, at a given signal, proceeded down the +choir to meet the new abbot, who reappeared at the opposite end +bare-footed, in token of humility, and clad no longer in the simple +habit of a monk, but with the abbot's rich dalmatic, the ring on his +finger, and a glittering mitre of silver, ornamented with gold, on his +brow. As soon as he had entered he knelt for a few moments in prayer +upon a carpet, spread on the upper step of the choir; when he arose he +was formally introduced as the lord high abbot, led to his stall, and +seated there with the pastoral staff in his hand. The monks then +advanced, according to {159} seniority, and, kneeling before him, gave +him the kiss of peace, first upon the hand, and afterward, when +rising, upon the month. When this ceremony was over, amid the strains +of the organ and the uplifted voices of the choir, the newly +proclaimed arose, marched through the choir in full robes, and, +carrying the pastoral staff, entered the vestiary, and then proceeded +to divest himself of the emblems of his office. The service was +concluded, the abbot returned to his apartments, the monks to the +cloisters, the guests to prepare for the feast, and the widowhood of +the abbey was over. The sway of the abbot was unlimited--they were all +sworn to obey him implicitly, and he had it in his power to punish +delinquents with penances, excommunication, imprisonment, and in +extreme cases with corporal punishment--he ranked as a peer, was +styled "My Lord Abbot," and in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries +kept an equal state and lived as well as the king on the throne: some +of them had the power of conferring the honor of knighthood, and the +monarch himself could not enter the monastery without permission. The +next man in office to the abbot was the prior, [Footnote 33] who, in +the absence of his superior, was invested with full powers; but on +other occasions his jurisdiction was limited--in some monasteries he +was assisted by sub-priors, in proportion to the size of the +institution and number of its inmates. + + [Footnote 33: Heads of priories were priors also, but they were + equally subject to their respective abbeys.] + +After the prior in rank came the precentor or chanter, an office only +given to a monk who had been brought up in the monastery from a child. +He had the supervision of the choral service, the writing out the +tables of divine service for the monks, the correction of mistakes in +chanting, which he led off from his place in the centre of the choir; +he distributed the robes at festivals, and arranged processions. The +cellarer was intrusted with the food, drink, etc., of the monastery, +also with the mazers or drinking cups of the monks, and all other +vessels used in the cellar, kitchen, and refectory; he had to attend +at the refectory table, and collect the spoons after dinner. The +treasurer had charge of the documents, deeds, and moneys belonging to +the monastery; he received the rents, paid all the wages and expenses, +and kept the accounts. The sacristan's duties were connected with the +church; he had to attend to the altar, to carry a lantern before the +priest, as he went from the altar to the lecturn, to cause the bell to +be rung; he took charge of all the sacred vessels in use, prepared the +host, the wine, and the altar bread. The almoner's duty was to provide +the monks with mats or hassocks for their feet in the church, also +matting in the chapter-house, cloisters, and dormitory stairs; he was +to attend to the poor, and distribute alms amongst them, and in the +winter warm clothes and shoes. After the monks had retired from the +refectory, it was his duty to go round and collect any drink left in +the mazers to be given away to the poor. The kitchener was filled by a +different monk every week in turn, and he had to arrange what food was +to be cooked, go round to the infirmary, visit the sick and provide +for them, and superintend the labors of his assistants. The infirmarer +had care of the sick; it was his office to administer to their wants, +to give them their meals, to sprinkle holy water on their beds every +night after the service of complin. A person was generally appointed +to this duty who, in case of emergency, was competent to receive the +confession of a sick man. The porter was generally a grave monk of +mature age; he had an assistant to keep the gate when he delivered +messages, or was compelled to leave his post. The chamberlain's +business was to look after the beds, bedding, and shaving room, to +attend to the dormitory windows, and to have the chambers swept, and +the straw of the beds changed once every year, and under his {160} +supervision was the tailory, where clothes, etc., were made and +repaired. There were other offices connected with the monastery, but +these were the principal, and next to these came the monks who formed +the convent with the lay brethren and novices. If a child were +dedicated to God by being sent to a monastery, his parents were +required to swear that he would receive no portion of fortune, +directly or indirectly; if a mature man presented himself, he was +required to abandon all his possessions, either to his family or to +the monastery itself, and then to enter as a novitiate. In order to +make this as trying as possible, the Benedictine rule enjoined that no +attention should be at first paid to an applicant, that the door +should not be even opened to him for four or five days, to test his +perseverance. If he continued to knock, then he was to be admitted to +the guests' house, and after more delay to the novitiate, where he was +submitted to instruction and examination. Two months were allowed for +this test, and if satisfactory, the applicant had the rule read to +him, which reading was concluded with the words used by St. Benedict +himself, and already quoted: "This is the law under which thou art to +live, and to strive for salvation. If thou canst observe it, enter; if +not, go in peace, thou art free." The novitiate lasted one year, and +during this time the rule was read and the question put thrice. If at +the end of that time the novice remained firm, he was introduced to +the community in the church, made a declaration of his vows in +writing, placed it on the altar, threw himself at the feet of the +brethren, and from that moment was a monk. The rule which swayed this +mass of life, wherever it existed, in a Benedictine monastery, and +indirectly the monasteries of other orders, which are only +modifications of the Benedictine system, was sketched out by that +solitary hermit of Subiaco. It consists of seventy-three chapters, +which contain a code of laws regulating the duties between the abbot +and his monks, the mode conducting the divine services, the +administration of penalties and discipline, the duties of monks to +each other, and the internal economy of the monastery, the duties of +the institution toward the world outside, the distribution of charity, +the kindly reception of strangers, the laws to regulate the actions of +those who were compelled to be absent or to travel; in fine, +everything which could pertain to the administration of an institution +composed of an infinite variety of characters subjected to one +absolute ruler. It has elicited the admiration of the learned and good +of all subsequent ages. It begins with the simple sentence: "Listen, O +son, to the precepts of the master! Do not fear to receive the counsel +of a good father, and to fulfil it fully, that thy laborious obedience +may lead thee back to him from whom disobedience and weakness have +alienated thee. To thee, whoever thou art, who renouncest thine own +will to fight under the true King, the Lord Jesus Christ, and takest +in hand the valiant and glorious weapons of obedience, are my words at +this moment addressed." The first words, "Ausculta, O fili!" are often +to be seen inscribed on a book placed in the hands of St. Benedict, in +paintings and stained glass. The preamble contains the injunction of +the two leading principles of the rule; all the rest is detail, +marvellously thorough and comprehensive. These two grand principles +were obedience and labor--the former became absorbed in the latter, +for he speaks of that also as a species of labor--"Obedientiae +laborem;" but the latter was the genius, the master-spirit of the +whole code. There was to be labor, not only of contemplation, in the +shape of prayer, worship, and self-discipline, to nurture the soul, +but labor of action, vigorous, healthy, bodily labor, with the pen in +the scriptorium, with the spade in the fields, with the hatchet in the +forest, or with the trowel on the walls. Labor of some sort there must +be daily, but no idleness: that was branded as "the {161} enemy of the +soul"--"Otiositas inimica est animiae." It was enjoined with all the +earnestness of one thoroughly imbued with the spirit of the great +Master, who said, "Work whilst it is yet day, for the night cometh, +when no man shall work;" who would not allow the man he had restored +to come and remain with him--that is, to lead the life of religious +contemplation, but told him to "go home to thy friends, and tell them +how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion +on thee!" That is the life of religious activity. The error of the +early monasticism was the making it solely a life of contemplation. +Religious contemplation and religious activity must go together. In +the contemplation the Christian acquires strength, in the activity he +uses that strength for others; in the activity he is made to feel his +weakness and driven to seek for aid in contemplation and prayer. + +But, beside being based upon divine authority and example, this +injunction of labor was formed upon a clear insight into and full +appreciation of one of the most subtle elements of our constitution. +It is this, that without labor no man can live; exist he may, but not +live. This is one of the great mysteries of life--its greatest +mystery; and its most emphatic lesson, which, if men would only learn, +it would be one great step toward happiness, or at least toward that +highest measure of happiness attainable below. If we can only realize +this fact in the profundity of its truth, we shall have at once the +key to half the miseries and anomalies which beset humanity. Passed +upon man, in the first instance, by the Almighty as a curse, yet it +carried in it the germ of a blessing; pronounced upon him as a +sentence of punishment, yet there lurked in the chastisement the +Father's love. Turn where we may, to the pages of bygone history or to +the unwritten page of everyday life, from the gilded saloons of the +noble to the hut of the peasant, we shall find this mysterious law +working out its results with the unerring precision of a fundamental +principle of nature. Where men obey that injunction of labor, no +matter what their station, there is in the act the element of +happiness, and wherever men avoid that injunction there is always the +shadow of the unfulfilled curse darkening their path. This is the +great clue to the balance of compensation between the rich and the +poor. The rich man has no urgent need to labor; his wealth provides +him with the means of escape from the injunction, and there is to be +found in that man's life, unless he, in some way, with his head or +with his hands, works out his measure of the universal task, a +dissonance and a discord, a something which, in spite of all his +wealth and all his luxury, corrupts and poisons his whole existence. +It is a truth which cannot be ignored--no man who has studied life +closely has failed to notice it, and no merely rich man lives who has +not felt it and would not confess to its truth, if the question were +pressed upon him. But in the case of the man who works, there is in +his daily life the element of happiness, cares flee before him, and +all the little caprices and longings of the imagination--those +gad-flies which torment the idle--are to him unknown. He fulfils the +measure of life; and whatever his condition, even if destitute in +worldly wealth, we may be assured that the poor man has great +compensations, and if he sat down with the rich man to count up +grievances would check off a less number than his wealthier brother. +Whatever his position, man should labor diligently; if poor he should +labor and he may become rich, and if rich he should labor still, that +all the evils attendant upon riches may disappear. Pure health steals +over the body, the mind becomes dear, and the little miseries of life, +the petty grievances, the fantastic wants, the morbid jealousies, the +wasting weariness, and the terrible sense of vacuity which haunt {162} +the life of one-half of the rich in the world, all flee before the +talisman of active labor; nor should we be discouraged by failure, for +it is better to fail in action than to do nothing. After all, what is +commonly called failure we shall find to be not altogether such if we +examine more closely. We set out upon some action or engagement, and +after infinite toil we miss the object of that action or engagement, +and they say we have failed; but there is consolation in this +incontrovertible fact, that although we may have missed the particular +object toward which our efforts have been directed, yet we have not +altogether failed. There are many collateral advantages attendant upon +exertion which may even be of greater importance than the attainment +of the immediate object of that exertion, so that it is quite possible +to fail wholly in achieving a certain object and yet make a glorious +success. Half the achievements of life are built up on failures, and +the greater the achievement, the greater evidence it is of persistent +combat with failure. The student devotes his days and nights to some +intellectual investigation, and though he may utterly fail in +attaining to the actual object of that search, yet he may be drawn +into some narrow diverging path in the wilderness of thought which may +lead him gradually away from his beaten track on to the broad open +light of discovery. The navigator goes out on the broad ocean in +search of unknown tracts of land, and though he may return, after long +and fruitless wanderings, yet in the voyages he has made he has +acquired experience, and may, perchance, have learned some fact or +thing which will prove the means of saving him in the hour of danger. +Those great luminaries of the intellectual firmament--men who devoted +their whole lives to investigate, search, study, and think for the +elevation and good of their fellows--have only succeeded after a long +discipline of failure, but by that discipline their powers have been +developed, their capacity of thought expanded, and the experience +gradually acquired which at length brought success. There is, then, no +total failure to honest exertion, for he who diligently labors must in +some way reap. It is a lesson often reiterated in apostolic teaching +that "whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth;" and the truth of that +lesson may be more fully appreciated by a closer contemplation of +life, more especially this phenomenon of life in which we see the +Father's love following close upon the heels of his chastisement. The +man who works lives, but he who works not lives but a dying and a +hopeless life. + +That vow of labor infused new vitality into the monks, and instead of +living as they had hitherto done upon the charity of the public, they +soon began not only to support themselves, but to take the poor of +their neighborhood under their own especial protection. Whenever the +Benedictines resolved on building a monastery, they chose the most +barren, deserted spot they could find, often a piece of land long +regarded as useless, and therefore frequently given without a price, +then they set to work, cleared a space for their buildings, laid their +foundations deep in the earth, and by gradual but unceasing toil, +often with their own hands, alternating their labor with their +prayers, they reared up those stately abbeys which still defy the +ravages of age. In process of time the desert spot upon which they had +settled underwent a complete transformation--a little world populous +with busy life sprang up in its midst, and far and near in its +vicinity the briers were cleared away--the hard soil broken +up--gardens and fields laid out, and soon the land, cast aside by its +owners as useless, bore upon its fertile bosom flowers, fruit, corn, +in all the rich exuberance of heaven's blessing upon man's +toil--plenty and peace smiled upon the whole scene--its halls were +vocal with the voice of praise and the incense of charity arose {163} +to heaven from its altars. They came upon the scene poor and +friendless--they made themselves rich enough to become the guardians +of the poor and friendless; and the whole secret of their success, the +magic by which they worked these miracles, was none other than that +golden rule of labor instituted by the penetrating intellect of their +great founder; simple and only secret of all success in this world, +now and ever--work--absolute necessity to real life, and, united with +faith, one of the elements of salvation. + +Before we advance to the consideration of the achievements of the +Benedictine order, we wish to call attention to a circumstance which +has seldom, if ever, been dwelt upon by historians, and which will +assist us in estimating the influence of monachism upon the embryo +civilization of Europe. + +It is a remarkable fact that two great and renowned phases of life +existed in the world parallel to each other, and went out by natural +decay just at the same period: chivalry and monasticism. The latter +was of elder birth, but as in the reign of Henry VIII. England saw the +last of monasticism, so amid some laughter, mingled with a little +forced seriousness, did she see the man who was overturning that old +system vainly endeavoring to revive the worn-out paraphernalia of +chivalry. The jousts and tournaments of Henry's time were the sudden +flashing up of that once brilliant life, before its utter extinction. +Both had been great things in the world--both had done great things, +and both have left traces of their influence upon modern society and +modern refinement which have not yet been obliterated, and perhaps +never will be. It may then be interesting and instructive if we were +to endeavor to compare the value of each by the work it did in the +world. The origin of monasticism we have already traced; that of +chivalry requires a few comments. Those who go to novels and romances +for their history, have a notion that chivalry existed only in the +thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, the periods chosen +for the incidents of those very highly colored romances which belong +to that order of writing. There is also a notion that it sprang out of +the Crusades, which, instead of being its origin, were rather the +result of the system itself. The real origin of chivalry may be fairly +traced to that period when the great empire of the West was broken up +and subdivided by the barbarians of the North. Upon the ruins of that +empire chivalry arose naturally. The feudal system was introduced, +each petty state had a certain number of vassals, commanded by +different chiefs, on whose estates they lived, and to whom they swore +fealty in return for their subsistence; these again looked up to the +king as head. + +By-and-bye, as the new form of life fell into working order, it became +evident that these chiefs, with their vassals, were a power in +themselves, and by combination might interfere with, if not overthrow, +the authority of the king himself. Their continued quarrels amongst +themselves were the only protection the king had against them, but +gradually that ceased, and a time came when there was no occupation +for the superfluous valor of the country; retainers lay about +castleyards in all the mischief of idleness, drunken and clamorous; +the kings not yet firmly seated on their thrones looked about for some +current into which they might divert this dangerous spirit. The +condition of things in the states themselves was bad enough; the laws +were feebly administered; it was vain for injured innocence to appeal +against the violence of power; the sword was the only lawgiver, and +strength the only opinion. Women were violated with impunity, houses +burned, herds stolen, and even blood shed without any possibility of +redress for the injured. This state of things was the foundation of +chivalry. {164} Instinctively led, or insidiously directed to it, +strong men began to take upon themselves the honor of redressing +grievances, the injured woman found an armed liberator springing up in +her defence, captives were rescued by superior force, injuries +avenged, and the whole system--by the encouragement of the petty kings +who saw in this rising feeling a vent for the idle valor they so much +dreaded--soon consolidated itself, was embellished and made attractive +by the charm of gallantry, and the rewards accorded to the successful +by the fair ladies who graced the courts. Things went on well, and +that dangerous spirit which threatened to overturn royalty now became +its greatest ornament. In process of time it again outgrew its work, +and with all the advantages of organization and flatteries of success, +it once more became the tenor of the crowned heads of Europe. At this +crisis, however, an event occurred which, in all probability, though +it drained Europe of half her manhood, saved her from centuries of +bloodshed and anarchy; that event was the banishment of the Christians +and the taking of Jerusalem by the Saracens. Here was a grand field +for the display of chivalry. Priestly influence was brought to bear +upon the impetuous spirits of these chevaliers, religious fervor was +aroused, and the element of religious enthusiasm infused into the +whole organization; fair ladies bound the cross upon the breasts of +their champions, and bid them go and fight under the banners of the +Mother of God. The whole continent fired up under the preaching of +Peter the Hermit; all the rampant floating chivalry of Europe was +aroused, flocked to the standards of the church, and banded themselves +together in favor of this Holy War; whilst the Goth, the Vandal, and +the Lombard, sitting on their tottering thrones, encouraged by every +means in their power this diversion of the prowess they had so much +dreaded, and began to see in the troubles of Eastern Christianity a +fitting point upon which to concentrate the fighting material of +Europe out of their way until their own position was more thoroughly +consolidated. The Crusades, however, came to an end in time, and +Europe was once more deluged with bands of warriors who came trooping +home from Eastern climes changed with new ideas, new traditions, and +filled with martial ardor. But now the Goth, the Vandal, and the +Lombard had made their position secure, and the knights and chieftains +fell back naturally upon their old pursuit of chivalry, took up arms +once more in defence of the weak and injured against the strong and +oppressive. That valor which had fought foot to foot with the swarthy +Saracen, had braved the pestilence of Eastern climes and the horrors +of Eastern dungeons, soon enlisted itself in the more peaceable lists +of the joust and tournament, and went forth under the inspiration of a +mistress's love-knot to do that work which we material moderns consign +to the office of a magistrate and the arena of a quarter sessions. + +It was in this later age of chivalry, when the religious element had +blended with it, and it was dignified with the traditions of religious +championship, that the deeds were supposed to be done which form the +subject of those wonderful romances;--that was more properly the +perfection of the institution; its origin lay, as we have seen, much +further back. + +As regards the difference between the work and influence of chivalry +and monasticism, it is the same which always must exist between the +physical and the moral--the one was a material and the other was a +spiritual force. The orders of chivalry included all the physical +strength of the country, its active material; but the monastery +included all its spiritual power and thinking material. Chivalry was +the instrument by which mighty deeds were done, but the intellect +which guided, directed, and in {165} fact used that instrument was +developed and matured in the seclusion of the cloister. By the +adoption of a stringent code of honor as regards the plighted word, +and a gallant consideration toward the vanquished and weak, chivalry +did much toward the refinement of social intercommunication and +assuaging the atrocities of warfare. By the adoption, also, of a +gentle bearing and respectful demeanor toward the opposite sex, it +elevated woman from the obscurity in which she lay, and placed her in +a position where she could exercise her softening influence upon the +rude customs of a half-formed society; but we must not forget that the +gallantry of chivalry was, after all, but a glossing over with the +splendors of heroism the excrescences of a gross licentiousness--a +licentiousness which mounted to its crisis in the polished gallantry +of the court of Louis XIV. Monasticism did more for woman than +chivalry. It was all very well for _preux chevaliers_ to go out and +fight for the honor of a woman's name whom they had never seen; but we +find that when they were brought into contact with woman they behaved +with like ruthless violence to her whatever her station may have +been--no matter whether she was the pretty daughter of the herdsman, +or the wife of some neighboring baron, she was seized by violence, +carried off to some remote fortress, violated and abandoned. +Monasticism did something better, it provided her when she was no +longer safe, either in the house of her father or her husband, with an +impregnable shelter against the licentious pursuit of these _preux +chevaliers_; it gave her a position in the church equal to their own; +she might become the prioress or the lady abbess of her convent; she +was no longer the sport and victim of chivalrous licentiousness, but a +pure and spotless handmaiden of the Most High--a fellow-servant in the +church, where she was honored with equal position and rewarded with +equal dignities--a far better thing this than chivalry, which broke +skulls in honor of her name, whilst it openly violated the sanctity of +her person. It may be summed up in a sentence. Monasticism worked long +and silently at the foundation and superstructure of society, whilst +chivalry labored at its decoration. + +When we mention the fact that the history of the mere literary +achievements of the Benedictine order fills four large quarto volumes, +printed in double columns, it will be readily understood how +impossible it is to give anything like an idea of its general work in +the world in the space of a short summary. That book, written by +Zeigelbauer, and called "Historia Rei Literariae Ordinis Sancti +Benedicti," contains a short biography of every monk belonging to that +order who had distinguished himself in the realms of literature, +science, and art. Then comes Don Johannes Mabillon with his ponderous +work, "Acta Sanctorum Ordinis Sancti Benedicti." These two authorities +gave a minute history of that marvellous institution, of whose glories +we can only offer a faint outline. + +The Benedictines, after the death of their founder, steadily +prospered, and as they prospered, sent out missionaries to preach the +truth amongst the nations then plunged in the depths of paganism. It +has been estimated that they were the means of converting upwards of +thirty countries and provinces to the Christian faith. They were the +first to overturn the altars of the heathen deities in the north of +Europe; they carried the cross into Gaul, into Saxony and Belgium; +they placed that cross between the abject misery of serfdom and the +cruelty of feudal violation; between the beasts of burden and the +beasts of prey--they proclaimed the common kinship of humanity in +Christ the Elder Brother. + +Strange to say, some of its most distinguished missionaries were +natives of our own country. It was a {166} Scottish monk, St. Ribanus, +who first preached the gospel in Franconia--it was an English monk, +St. Wilfred, who did the same in Friesland and Holland in the year +683, but with little success--it was an Englishman, St. Swibert, who +carried the cross to Saxony, and it was from the lips of another +Englishman, St. Ulfred, that Sweden first heard the gospel--it was an +Englishman and a Devonshire man, St. Boniface, who laid aside his +mitre, put on his monk's dress, converted Germany to the truth, and +then fell a victim to the fury of the heathen Frieslanders, who +slaughtered him in cold blood. Four Benedictine monks carried the +light of truth into Denmark, Sweden, and Gothland, sent there in the +ninth century by the Emperor Ludovicus Pius. Gascony, Hungary, +Lithuania, Russia, Pomerania, are all emblazoned on their banners as +victories won by them in the fight of faith; and it was to the +devotion of five martyr monks, who fell in the work, that Poland +traces the foundation of her church. + +It is a remarkable fact in the history of Christianity, that in its +earliest stage--the first phase of its existence--its tendency was to +elevate peasants to the dignity of apostles, but in its second stage +it reversed its operations and brought kings from their thrones to the +seclusion of the cloister--humbled the great ones of the earth to the +dust of penitential humility. Up to the fourth century Christianity +was a terrible struggle against principalities and powers: then a time +came when principalities and powers humbled themselves at the foot of +that cross whose followers they had so cruelly persecuted. The +innumerable martyrdoms of the first four centuries of its career were +followed by a long succession of' royal humiliations, for, during the +sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth centuries, in addition to what took +place as regards other orders, no less than ten emperors and twenty +kings resigned their crowns and became monks of the Benedictine order +alone. Amongst this band of great ones the most conspicuous are the +Emperors Anastasius, Theodosius, Michael, Theophilus, and Ludovicus +Pius. Amongst the kings are Sigismund of Burgundy, Cassimir of Poland, +Bamba of Spain, Childeric and Theodoric of France, Sigisbert of +Northumberland, Ina of the West Saxons, Veremunde of Castille, Pepin +of Italy, and Pipin of Acquitaine. Adding to these their subsequent +acquisitions, the Benedictines claim up to the 14th. century the honor +of enrolling amongst their number twenty emperors and forty-seven +kings: twenty sons of emperors and forty-eight sons of kings--amongst +whom were Drogus, Pipin, and Hugh, sons of Charlemagne; Lothair and +Carlomen, sons of Charles; and Fredericq, son of Louis III. of France. +As nuns of their order they have had no less than ten empresses and +fifty queens, including the Empresses Zoa Euphrosyne, St. Cunegunda, +Agnes, Augusta, and Constantina; the Queens Batilda of France, Elfreda +of Northumberland, Sexburga of Kent, Ethelberga of the West Saxons, +Ethelreda of Mercia, Ferasia of Toledo, Maud of England. In the year +1290 the Empress Elizabeth took the veil with her daughters Agnes, +queen of Hungary, and the Countess Cueba; also Anne, queen of Poland, +and Cecily, her daughter. In the wake of these crowned heads follow +more than one hundred princesses, daughters of kings and emperors. +Five Benedictine nuns have attained literary distinction--Rosinda, St. +Elizabeth, St. Hildegardis, whose works were approved of by the +Council of Treves, St. Hiltrudis, and St. Metilda. + +For the space of 239 years 1 month and 26 days the Benedictines +governed the church in the shape of 48 popes chosen from their order, +most prominent among whom was Gregory the Great, through whose means +the rule was introduced into England. Four of these pontiffs came from +the original {167} monastery of Monte Cassino, and three of them +quitted the throne and resumed the monastic life--Constantine II., +Christopher I., and Gregory XII. Two hundred cardinals had been monks +in their cloisters--they produced 7,000 archbishops, 15,000 bishops, +fifteen of whom took off their mitres, resumed their monks' frock, and +died in seclusion; 15,000 abbots; 4,000 saints. They established in +different countries altogether 87,000 monasteries, which sent out into +the world upwards of 15,700 monks, all of whom attained distinction as +authors of books or scientific inventors. Rabanus established the +first school in Germany. Alcuin founded the University of Paris, where +30,000 students were educated at one time, and whence issued, to the +honor of England, St. Thomas à Becket, Robert of Melun, Robert White, +made cardinal by Celestine II., Nicholas Broakspear, the only +Englishman ever made Pope, who filled the chair under the title of +Adrian IV., and John of Salisbury, whose writings give us the best +description of the learning both of the university and the times. +Theodore and Adrian, two Benedictine monks, revived the University of +Oxford, which Bede, another of the order, considerably advanced. It +was in the obscurity of a Benedictine monastery that the musical scale +or gamut--the very alphabet of the greatest refinement of modern +life--was invented, and Guido d'Arezzo, who wrested this secret from +the realms of sound, was the first to found a school of music. +Sylvester invented the organ, and Dionysius Exiguus perfected the +ecclesiastical computation. + +England in the early periods of her history contributed upwards of a +hundred sons to this band of immortals, the most distinguished of whom +we will just enumerate--St. Cuthbert, bishop of Lindisfarne, whose +life Bede has written, and whose "Ordinationes" and "De Vita +Monastica" have reached to our times. St. Benedict Biscop, the founder +of the monasteries of St. Peter and St. Paul, at Wearmouth and Jarrow, +a nobleman by birth, and a man of extraordinary learning and ability, +to whom England owes the training of the father of her ecclesiastical +history, the Venerable Bede. St. Aldhelm, nephew of King Ina, St. +Wilfrid, St Brithwald, a monk of Glastonbury, elevated to the dignity +of Archbishop of Canterbury, which he held over thirty-seven years. +His works which have come down to us are a "Life of St. Egwin, bishop +of Worcester," and the "Origin of the Monastery of Evesham." Tatwin, +who succeeded him in the archbishopric. Bede the Venerable, who was +skilled in all the learning of the times, and; in addition to Latin +and Greek, was versed in Hebrew; he wrote an immense number of works, +many of which are lost, but the best known are the greater portion of +the "Saxon Chronicle," which was continued after his death as a +national record; and his "Ecclesiastical History," which gives to +England a more compendious and valuable account of her early church +than has fallen to the lot of any other nation. He was also one of the +earliest translators of the Scriptures, and oven on his death-bed +dictated to a scribe almost up to the final moment; when the last +struggle came upon him he had reached as far as the words, "But what +are they among so many," in the sixth chapter of St. John's Gospel, +and the ninth verse. St. Boniface, already alluded to as the apostle +of Germany, was a native of Devonshire. He was made Archbishop of +Mentz, but being possessed with an earnest longing to convert the +heathen Frieslanders, he retired from his archbishopric, and putting +on his monk's dress took with him no other treasure than a book he was +very fond of reading, called "De Bono Mortis," went amongst these +people, who cruelly beat him to death in the year 755; and the book +stained with his blood {168} was cherished as a sacred relic long +after. Alcuin, whom we have already mentioned as the founder of the +University of Paris, was a Yorkshireman, and was educated under Bede. +He lived to become the friend of Charlemagne, and next to his +venerable master was the greatest scholar and divine in Europe; he +died about the year 790. John Asser, a native of Pembrokeshire, is +another of these worthies. It is supposed that Alfred endowed Oxford +with professors, and settled stipends upon them, under his influence, +he being invited to the court of that monarch for his great learning. +He wrote a "Commentary" upon Boethius de Consolatione Philosophiae, +the "Life of King Alfred," and the "Annals of Great Britain." St. +Dunstan, a monk of Glastonbury, the best known of all these great +Englishmen, died Archbishop of Canterbury; but as we shall have much +to say of him hereafter we pass on to St. Ethelwold, his pupil, also a +monk at Glastonbury, distinguished for his learning and piety, for +which he was made abbot of the Monastery of Abingdon, where he died in +the year 984. Ingulphus, a native of London, was made Abbot of +Croyland, in Lincolnshire, in the year 1075. A history of the abbey +over which he presided has been attributed to him, but its +authenticity has been gravely disputed. Alfric, a noted grammarian. +Florence, of Worcester, was another great annalist, who in his +"Chronicon ex Chronici" brings the history down to the year 1119, that +in which he died; his book is chiefly valuable as a key to the "Saxon +Chronicle." William, the renowned monk of Malmesbury, the most elegant +of all the monastic Latinists, was born about the time of the Norman +Conquest. His history consists of two parts, the "Gesta Regum +Anglorum," in five books, including the period between the arrival of +the Saxons and the year 1120. The "Historia Novella," in three books, +brings it down to the year 1142. He ranks next to Bede as an historic +writer, most of the others being mere compilers and selectors from +extant chronicles. He also wrote a work on the history of the English +bishops, called "De Gestis Pontificum Anglorum," in which he speaks +out fearlessly and without sparing: also a treatise on the antiquity +of Glastonbury Abbey, "De Antiquitate Glastoniensis Ecclesiae;" his +style is most interesting, and he is supposed to have written +impartially, separating the improbable from the real, and gives us +what can readily be appreciated as a fair and real picture of the +state of things, more especially of the influence and policy of the +Norman court, and the opening of the struggle between the two races. +Eadmer was another contemporaneous celebrity with William of +Malmesbury; he was the author of a history of his own times, called +"Historia Novorum sive Sui Secula," which is spoken of very highly by +William of Malmesbury; it contains the reigns of William the Conqueror +and Rufus, and a portion of that of Henry I., embracing a period +extending from 1066 to 1122. Matthew Paris, another historian who +lived about the year 1259, closes our selection from the long list of +British worthies who were members of the Benedictine order. + +When we reflect that all the other monastic systems, not only of the +past, but even of the present day, are but modifications of this same +rule, and that it emanated from the brain, and is the embodiment of +the genius of the solitary hermit of Monte Cassino, we are lost in +astonishment at the magnitude of the results which have sprung from so +simple an origin. That St. Benedict had any presentiment of the future +glory of his order, there is no sign in his rule or his life. He was a +great and good man, and he produced that comprehensive rule simply for +the guidance of his own immediate followers, without a thought beyond. +But it was blessed, {169} and grew and prospered mightily in the +world. He has been called the Moses of a favored people; and the +comparison is not inapt, for he lead his order on up to the very +borders of the promised country, and after his death, which, like that +of Moses, took place within sight of their goal, they fought their way +through the hostile wilds of barbarism, until those men who had +conquered the ancient civilizations of Europe lay at their feet, bound +in the fetters of spiritual subjection to the cross of Christ. The +wild races of Scandinavia came pouring down upon southern Europe in +one vast march of extermination, slaying and destroying as they +advanced, sending before them the terror of that doom which might be +seen in the desolation which lay behind them; but they fell, +vanquished by the power of the army of God, who sallied forth in turn +to reconquer the world, and fighting not with the weapons of fire and +sword, but, like Christian soldiers, girt about with truth, and having +on the breastplate of righteousness, they subdued these wild races, +who had crushed the conquerors of the earth, and rested not until they +had stormed the stronghold, and planted the cross triumphantly upon +the citadel of an ancient paganism. Time rolled on, and the gloom of a +long age of darkness fell upon a world whose glory lay buried under +Roman ruins. Science had gone, literature had vanished, art had flown, +and men groped about in vain in that dense darkness for one ray of +hope to cheer them in their sorrow. The castle of the powerful baron +rose gloomily above them, and with spacious moat, dense walls, and +battlemented towers, frowned ominously upon the world which lay abject +at its feet. In slavery men were born, and in slavery they lived. They +pandered to the licentiousness and violence of him who held their +lives in his hands, and fed them only to fight and fail at his +bidding. But far away from the castle there arose another building, +massive, solid, and strong, not frowning with battlemented towers, nor +isolated by broad moats; but with open gates, and a hearty welcome to +all comers, stood the monastery, where lay the hope of humanity, as in +a safe asylum. Behind its walls was the church, and clustered around +it the dwelling-places of those who had left the world, and devoted +their lives to the service of that church, and the salvation of their +souls. Far and near in its vicinity the land bore witness to assiduous +culture and diligent care, bearing on its fertile bosom the harvest +hope of those who had labored, which the heavens watered, the sun +smiled upon, and the winds played over, until the heart of man +rejoiced, and all nature was big with the promise of increase. This +was the refuge to which religion and art had fled. In the quiet +seclusion of its cloisters science labored at its problems and +perpetuated its results, uncheered by applause and stimulated only by +the pure love of the pursuit. Art toiled in the church, and whole +generations of busy fingers worked patiently at the decoration of the +temple of the Most High. The pale, thoughtful monk, upon whose brow +genius had set her mark, wandered into the calm retirement of the +library, threw back his cowl, buried himself in the study of +philosophy, history, or divinity, and transferred his thoughts to +vellum, which was to moulder and waste in darkness and obscurity, like +himself in his lonely monk's grave, and be read only when the spot +where he labored should be a heap of ruins, and his very name a +controversy amongst scholars. + +We should never lose sight of this truth, that in this building, when +the world was given up to violence and darkness, was garnered up the +hope of humanity; and these men who dwelt there in contemplation and +obscurity were its faithful guardians--and this was more particularly +the case with that great order whose foundation we {170} have been +examining. The Benedictines were the depositaries of learning and the +arts; they gathered books together, and reproduced them in the silence +of their cells, and they preserved in this way not only the volumes of +sacred writ, but many of the works of classic lore. They started +Gothic architecture--that matchless union of nature with art--they +alone had the secrets of chemistry and medical science; they invented +many colors; they were the first architects, artists, glass-stainers, +carvers, and mosaic workers in mediaeval times. They were the original +illuminators of manuscripts, and the first transcribers of books; in +fine, they were the writers, thinkers, and workers of a dark age, who +wrote for no applause, thought with no encouragement, and worked for +no reward. Their power, too, waxed mighty; kings trembled before their +denunciations of tyranny, and in the hour of danger fled to their +altars for safety; and it was an English king who made a pilgrimage to +their shrines, and prostrate at the feet of five Benedictine monks, +bared his back, and submitted himself to be scourged as a penance to +his crimes. + +Nearly fourteen hundred years have rolled by since the great man who +founded this noble order died; and he who in after years compiled the +"Saxon Chronicle" has recorded it in a simple sentence, which, amongst +the many records of that document, we may at least believe, and with +which we will conclude the chapter--"This year St. Benedict the Abbot, +father of all monks, went to heaven." + +------ + +From The Month. + +SAINTS OF THE DESERT, + +BY THE REV. J. H. NEWMAN, D.D. + + + +1. Some old men came to Abbot Antony, who, to try their spirits, +proposed to them a difficult passage of Scripture. + +As each in turn did his best to explain it, Antony said: "You have not +hit it." + +Till Abbot Joseph said: "I give it up." + +Then cried Antony: "_He_ has hit it; for he owns he does not know it." + + +2. When the Abbot Arsenius was at the point of death, his brethren +noted that he wept. They said then: "Is it so? art thou too afraid, O +father?" + +He answered: "It is so; and the fear that is now upon me has been with +me ever since I became a monk." + +And so he went to sleep. + + +3. Abbot Pastor said: "We cannot keep out bad thoughts, as we cannot +stop the wind rushing through the door; but we can resist them when +they come." + + + +4. Abbot Besarion said, when he was dying: "A monk ought to be all +eye, as the cherubim and seraphim." + + + +5. They asked Abbot Macarius how they ought to pray. + +The old man made answer: "No need to be voluble in prayer; but stretch +forth thy hands frequently, and say, 'Lord, as thou wilt, and as thou +knowest, have mercy on me.' And if war is coming on, say, 'Help!' And +he who himself knoweth what is expedient for thee, will show thee +mercy." + + + +6. On a festival, when the monks were at table, one cried out to the +servers, "_I_ eat nothing dressed, so bring me some salt." + +Blessed Theodore made reply: "My brother, better were it to have even +secretly eaten flesh in thy cell than thus loudly to have refused it." + + + +7. An old man said: "A monk's cell is that golden Babylonian furnace +in which the Three Children found the Son of God." + +------ + +{171} + + +[ORIGINAL] + +CHRISTINE: + +A TROUBADOUR'S SONG, + +IN FIVE CANTOS. + +BY GEORGE H. MILES. [Footnote 34] + + [Footnote 34: Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year + 1886, by Lawrence Kehoe, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court + of the United States for the Southern District of New York.] + +(Continued) + + + +THE THIRD SONG. + +I. + + + Fronting the vine-clad Hermitage,-- + Its hoary turrets mossed with age, + Its walls with flowers and grass o'ergrown,-- + A ruined Castle, throned so high + Its battlements invade the sky, + Looks down upon the rushing Rhone. + From its tall summits you may see + The sunward slopes of Côte Rotie + With its red harvest's revelry; + While eastward, midway to the Alpine snows, + Soar the sad cloisters of the Grande Chartreuse. + + And here, 'tis said, to hide his shame, + The thrice accursed Pilate came; + And here the very rock is shown. + Where, racked and riven with remorse, + Mad with the memory of the Cross, + He sprang and perished in the Rhone. + 'Tis said that certain of his race + Made this tall peak their dwelling place. + And built them there this castle keep + To mark the spot of Pilate's leap. + +{172} + + Full many the tale of terror told + At eve, with changing cheek, + By maiden fair and stripling bold, + Of these dark keepers of the height + And, most of all, of the Wizard Knight, + The Knight of Pilate's Peak. + His was a name of terror known + And feared through all Provence; + Men breathed it in an undertone. + With quailing eye askance, + Till the good Dauphin of Vienne, + And Miolan's ancient Lord, + One midnight stormed the robber den + And gave them to the sword; + All save the Wizard Knight, who rose + In a flame-wreath from his dazzled foes; + All save a child, with golden hair. + Whom the Lord of Miolan deigned to spare + In ruth to womanhood, + And she, alas, is the maiden fair + Who wept in the walnut wood. + + But who is he, with step of fate, + Goes gloomily through the castle gate + In me morning's virgin prime? + Why scattereth he with frenzied hand + The fierce flame of that burning brand, + Chaunting an ancient rhyme? + The eagle, scared from her blazing nest, + Whirls with a scream round his sable crest. + What muttereth he with demon smile. + Shaking his mailed hand the while + Toward the Chateau of La Sône, + Where champing steed and bannered tent + Gave token of goodly tournament, + And the Golden Dolphin shone? + "Woe to the last of the Dauphin's line, + When the eagle shrieks and the red lights shine + Bound the towers of Pilate's Peak! + Burn, beacon, burn!"--and as he spoke + From the ruined towers curled the pillared smoke, + As the light flame leapt from the ancient oak + And answered the eagle's shriek. + Man and horse down the hillside sprang + And a voice through the startled forest rang-- + "I ride, I ride to win my bride. + Ho, Eblis! to thy servants side; + Thou hast sworn no foe + Shall lay me low + Till the dead in arms against me ride." + +{173} + + +II. + + Deliciously, deliciously + Cometh the dancing dawn, + Christine, Christine comes with it, + Leading in the morn. + Beautiful pair! + So cometh the fawn + Before the deer. + Christine is in her bower + Beside the swift Isère + Weaving a white flower + With her dark brown hair. + Never, O never, + Wandering river. + Though flowing for ever, + E'er shalt thou mirror + Maiden so fair! + + Hail to thee, hail to thee, + Beautiful one; + Maiden to match thee, + On earth there is none. + And there is none to tell + How beautiful thou art: + Though oft the first Rudel + Has made the Princes start, + When he has strung his harp and sung + The Lily of Provence, + Till the high halls have rung + With clash of lifted lance + Vowed to the young + Christine of France. + + Ah, true that he might paint + The blooming of thy cheek. + The blue vein's tender streak + On marble temple faint; + Lips in whose repose + Ruby weddeth rose. + Lips that parted show + Ambushed pearl below: + Or he may catch the subtle glow + Of smiles as rare as sweet, + May whisper of the drifted snow + Where throat and bosom meet. + And of the dark brown braids that flow + So grandly to thy feet. + Ah, true that he may sing + Thy wondrous mien. + +{174} + + Stately as befits a queen, + Yet light and lithe and all awing + As becometh Queen of air + Who glideth unstepping everywhere. + And he might number e'en + The charms that haunt the drapery-- + Charms that, ever changing, cluster + Round thy milk-white mantle's lustre,-- + Maiden mantle that is part of thee. + Maiden mantle that doth circle thee + With the snows of virgin grace; + Halo-like around thee wreathing, + Spirit-like about thee breathing + The glory of thy face. + + But these dark eyes, Christine? + Peace, poet, peace, + Cease, minstrel, cease! + But these dear eyes, Christine? + Mute, O mute + Be voice and lute! + O dear dark eyes that seem to dwell + With holiest things invisible, + Who may read your oracle? + Earnest eyes that seem to rove + Empyrean heights above, + Yet aglow with human love. + Who may speak your spell? + Dear dark eyes that beam and bless, + In whose luminous caress + Nature weareth bridal dress,-- + Eyes of voiceless Prophetess, + Your meanings who may tell! + O there is none! + Peace, poet, peace. + Cease, minstrel, cease, + For there is none! + O eyes of fire without desire, + O stars that lead the sun! + But minstrel cease, + Peace, poet, peace. + Tame Troubadour be still; + Voice and lute + Alike be mute, + It passeth all your skill! + + Sooth thou art fair, + O ladye dear. + Yet one may see + The shadow of the east in thee; + +{175} + + Tinting to a riper flush + The faint vermilion of thy blush; + Deepening in thy dark brown hair + Till sunshine sleeps in starlight there. + For she had scarce seen summers ten, + When erst the Hermit's call + Sent all true Knights from bower and hall + Against the Saracen. + Young, motherless, and passing fair, + The Dauphin durst not leave her there, + Within his castle lone, + To kinsman's cold or casual care, + Not such as were his own: + And so the sweet Provençal maid + Shared with her sire the first Crusade. + And you may hear her oft, + In accents strangely soft. + Still singing of the rose's bloom + In Sharon,--of the long sunset + That gilds lamenting Olivet, + Of eglantines that grace the gloom + Of sad Gethsemane; + And of a young Knight ever seen + In evening walks along the green + That fringes feeble Siloë. + + Young, beautiful, and passing fair-- + The ancient Dauphin's only heir, + The fairest flower of France,-- + Knights by sea and Knights by land + Came to claim the fair white hand, + With sigh and suppliant lance; + And many a shield + Displayed afield + The Lily of Provence. + Ladye love of prince and bard + Yet to one young Savoyard + Swerveless faith she gave-- + To the young knight ever seen + When moonlight wandered o'er the green + That gleams o'er Siloë's wave. + And he, blest boy, where lingers he? + For the Dauphin hath given slow consent + That, after a joyous tournament, + The stately spousals shall be. + + Christine is in her bower + That blooms by the swift Isère, + Twining a white flower + With her dark brown hair. + +{176} + + The skies of Provence + Are bright with her glance, + And nature's matin organ floods + The world with music from the myriad throats + Of the winged Troubadours, whose joyous notes + Brighten the rolling requiem of the woods. + With melody, flowers, and light + Hath the maiden come to play, + As fragile, fair, and bright + And lovelier than they? + O no, she has come to her bower + That blooms by the dark Isère + For the bridegroom who named the first hour + Of day-dawn to meet her there: + But the bridal morn on the hills is born + And the bridegroom is not here. + Hie thee hither, Savoyard, + On such an errand youth rides hard. + Never knight so dutiful + Maiden failed so beautiful: + And she in such sweet need, + And he so bold and true!-- + She will watch by the long green avenue + Till it quakes to the tramp of his steed; + Till it echoes the neigh of the gallant Grey + Spurred to the top of his speed. + + In the dark, green, lonely avenue + The Ladye her love-watch keepeth, + Listening so close that she can hear + The very dripping of the dew + Stirred by the worm as it creepeth; + Straining her ear + For her lover's coming + Till his steed seems near + In the bee's far humming. + She stands in the silent avenue, + Her back to a cypress tree; + O Savoyard once bold and true, + Late bridegroom, where canst thou be? + Hark! o'er the bridge that spans the river + There cometh a clattering tread, + Never was shaft from mortal quiver + Ever so swiftly sped. + Onward the sound, + Bound after, bound, + Leapeth along the tremulous ground. + +{177} + + From the nodding forest darting. + Leaves, like water, round them parting. + Up the long green avenue, + Horse and horseman buret in view. + Marry, what ails the bridegroom gay + That he strideth a coal black steed, + Why cometh he not on the gallant Grey + That never yet failed him at need? + Gone is the white plume, that clouded his crest, + And the love-scarf that lightly lay over his breast; + Dark is his shield as the raven's wing + To the funeral banquet hurrying. + Came ever knight in such sad array + On the merry morn of his bridal day? + The Ladye trembles, and well she may; + Saints, you would think him a fiend astray. + A plunge, a pause, and, fast beside her. + Stand the sable horse and rider. + Alas, Christine, this shape of wrath + In Palestine once crossed thy path; + His arm around thy waist, I trow, + To bear thee to his saddle-bow. + But thy Savoyard was there. + In time to save, tho' not to smite, + For the demon fled into the night + From Miolan's matchless heir. + Alas, Christine, that lance lies low-- + Lies low on oaken bier! + + Low bent the Wizard, till his plume + O'ershadowed her like falling doom: + She feels the cold casque touch her ear, + She hears the whisper, hollow, clear,-- + "From Acre's strand, from Holy Land, + O'er mountain crag, through desert sand, + By land, by sea, I come for thee. + And mine ere sunset shalt thou be! + Dost know me, girl?" + The visor raises-- + God, 'tis the Knight of Pilate's Peak! + As if in wildered dream she gazes, + Gazing as one who strives to shriek. + She cannot fly, or speak, or stir, + For that face of horror glares, at her + Like a phantom fresh from hell. + She gave no answer, she made no moan; + Mute as a statue overthrown. + Her fair face cold as carved stone, + Swooning the maiden fell. + +{178} + + The sun has climbed the golden hills + And danceth down with the mountain rills. + Over the meadow the swift beams run + Lifting the flowers, one by one, + Sipping their chalices dry as they pass, + And kissing the beads from the bending grass. + The Dauphin's chateau, grand and grey, + Glows merrily in the risen day; + His castle that seemeth ancient as earth, + Lights up like an old man in his mirth. + Through the forest old, the sunbeams bold + Their glittering revel keep, + Till, in arrowy gold, on the chequered wold + In glancing lines they sleep. + And one sweet beam hath found its way + To the violet bank where the Ladye lay. + O radiant touch! perchance so shone + The hand that woke the widow's son. + + She sighs, she stirs; the death-swoon breaks; + Life slowly fires those pallid lips; + And feebly, painfully, she wakes, + Struggling through that dark eclipse. + Breathing fresh of Alpine snows, + Breathing sweets of summer rose. + Murmuring songs of soft repose, + The south wind on her bosom blows: + But she heeds it not, she hears it not; + Fast she sits with steady stare. + The dew-drops heavy on her hair, + Her fingers clasped in dumb despair, + Frozen to the spot: + While o'er her fierce and fixed as fate, + The fiend on his spectral war-horse sate. + A horrible smile through the visor broke, + And, quoth he, + "I but watched till my Ladye woke. + Get thee a flagon of Shiraz wine, + For the lips must be red that answer mine!" + Cleaving the woods, like the wind he went. + His face o'er his shoulder backward bent, + Crying thrice--"We shall meet at the Tournament!" + + Clasping the cypress overhead, + Christine rose from her fragrant bed. + And a prayer to Mother Mary sped. + Hold not those gleaming skies for her + The same unfailing Comforter? + And those two white winged cherubim, + She once had seen, when Christmas hymn + Chimed with the midnight mass, + Scattering light through the chapel dim, + Alive in me stained glass-- + +{179} + + What fiend could harm a hair of her. + While those arching-wings took care of her? + And our Ladye, Maid divine, + Mother round whose marble shrine + She wreathed the rose of Palestine + So many sinless years, + Will not heaven's maiden-mother Queen + Regard her daughter's tears! + Yes!--through the forest stepping slow, + Tranquil mistress of her woe, + Goeth the calm Christine; + And but for yonder spot of snow + Upon each temple, none may know + How stem a storm hath been. + For never dawned a brighter day, + And the Ladye smileth on her way, + Greeting the blue-eyed morn at play + With earth in her spangled green. + A single cloud + Stole like a shroud + Forth from the fading mists that hid + The crest of each Alpine pyramid; + Unmovingly it lingers over + The mountain castle of her lover; + While over Pilate's Peak + Hangs the grey pall of the sullen smoke, + Leaps the lithe flame of the ancient oak + And the eagle soars with a shriek. + Full well she knew the curse was near. + But that heart of hers had done with fear. + By St. Antoine, not steadier stands + Mont Blanc's white head in winter's whirl + Than that calm, fearless, smiling girl + With her bare brow upturned and firmly folded hands. + + Back to her bower so fair + Christine her way, is wending; + Over the dark Isère + Silently she's bending, + Thus communing with the stream. + As one who whispers in a dream: + "Waters that at sunset ran + Round the Mount of Miolan; + Stream, that binds my love to me, + Whisper where that lover be; + Wavelets mine, what evil things + Mingle with your murmurings; + Tell me, ere ye glide away. + Wherefore doth the bridegroom stay? + Hath the fiend of Pilate's Peak + Met him, stayed him, slain him--speak! + +{180} + + Speak the worst a Bride may know, + God hath armed my soul for woe; + Touching heaven, the virgin snow + Is firmer than the rock below. + Lies my love upon his bier, + Answer, answer, dark Isère! + Hark, to the low voice of the river + Singing '_Thy love is lost for ever!_' + Weep with all thy icy fountains, + "Weep, ye cold, uncaring mountains, + I have not a tea! + Stream, that parts my love from me, + Bear this bridal rose with thee; + Bear it to the happy hearted, + Christine and all the flowers have parted!" + + They are coming from the castle, + A bevy of bright-eyed girls, + Some with their long locks braided, + Some with loose golden curls. + Merrily 'mid the meadows + They win their wilful way; + Winding through sun and shadow, + Rivulets at play. + Brows with white rosebuds blowing, + Necks with white pearl entwined. + Gowns whose white folds imprison + Wafts of the wandering wind. + The boughs of the charmèd woodland + Sing to the vision sweet. + The daisies that crouch in the clover + Nod to their twinkling feet. + They see Christine by the river, + And, deeming the bridegroom near, + They wave her a dewy rose-wreath + Fresh plucked for her dark brown hair. + Hand in hand tripping to meet her, + Birdlike they carol their joy. + Wedding soft Provençal numbers + To a dulcet old strain of Savoy. + +{181} + +THE GREETING. + + Sister, standing at Love's golden gate. + Life's second door-- + Fleet the maidentime is flying. + Friendship fast in love is dying, + Bridal fate doth separate + Friends evermore. + + Pilgrim seeking with thy sandalled feet + The land of bliss; + Sire and sister tearless leaving, + To thy beckoning palmer cleaving-- + Truant sweet, once more repeat + Our parting kiss. + + Wanderer filling for enchanted isle + Thy dimpling sail; + Whither drifted, all uncaring. + So with faithful helmsman faring, + Stay and smile with us, awhile, + Before the gale. + + Playmate, hark! for all that once was ours + Soon rings the knell: + Glade and thicket, glen and heather, + Whisper sacredly together; + Queen of ours, the very flowers + Sigh forth farewell. + + Christine looked up, and smiling stood + Among the choral sisterhood: + But some who sprang to greet her, stayed + Tiptoe, with the speech unsaid; + And, each the other, none knew why. + Questioned with quick, wondering eye. + One by one, their smiles have flown. + No lip is laughing but her own; + And hers, the frozen smile that wears + The glittering of unshed tears. + "Ye nave sung for me, I will sing for ye, + My sisters fond and fair." + And she bent her head till the chaplet fell + Adown in the deep Isère. + + +THE REPLY. + + Bring me no rose-wreath now: + But come when sunset's first tears fall. + When night-birds from the mountain call-- + Then bind my brow, + + Roses and lilies white-- + But tarry till the glow-worms trail + Their gold-work o'er the spangled veil + Of falling night + +{182} + + Twine not your garland fair + Till I have fallen fast asleep; + Then to my silent pillow creep + And leave it there-- + + There in the chapel yard!-- + Come with twilight's earliest hush, + Just as day's last purple flush + Forsakes the sward. + + Stop where the white cross stands. + You'll find me in my wedding suit, + Lying motionless and mute, + With folded hands. + + Tenderly to my side: + The bridegroom's form you may not see + In the dim eve, but he will be + Fast by his bride. + + Soft with your chaplet move. + And lightly lay it on my head: + Be sure you wake not with rude tread + My jealous love. + + Kiss me, then quick away; + And leave us, in unwatched repose, + With the lily and the rose + Waiting for day! + + + But hark! the cry of the clamorous horn + Breaks the bright stillness of the morn. + From moated wall, from festal hall + The banners beckon, the bugles call, + Already flames, in the lists unrolled + O'er the Dauphin's tent, the Dolphin gold. + A hundred knights in armor glancing. + Hurry afield with pennons dancing, + Each with a vow to splinter a lance + For Christine, the Lily of Provence. + "Haste!" cried Christine; + "Sisters, we tarry late. + Let not the tourney wait + For its Queen!" + And, toward the castle gate, + They take their silent way along the green. + + + +TO BE CONTINUED + + +------ + +{183} + + + +From The Literary Workman. + +JENIFER'S PRAYER. + +BY OLIVER CRANE. + +IN THREE PARTS. + + + +PART II. + +Mary Lorimer returned in safety to Beremouth under Horace Erskine's +care, welcomed as may be supposed by the adopted father and her +mother. Not that "Mother Mary," as Lady Greystock in the old Claudia +Brewer days used to call her, could ever welcome Horace. She had never +liked him; she had always felt that there was some unknown wrong about +his seeking and his leaving Claudia; she had been glad that a long +absence abroad had kept him from them while her darling Mary had been +growing up; and it was with a spasm of fear that she heard of his +spending that autumn at her sister's. And yet she had consented to his +bringing Mary home. Yes, she had consented, for Mr. Brewer in his +overflowing hospitality had asked him to come to them--had regretted +that they had seen so little of him of late years--and had himself +suggested that he should come when Mary returned. + +Nine years does a great deal; it may even pay people's debts +sometimes. But it had not paid Horace Erskine's debts: on the +contrary, it had added to them with all the bewildering peculiarities +that belong to calculations of interests and compound interests. He +had got to waiting for another man's death. How many have had to +become in heart death-dealers in this way! It was known that he would +be his uncle's heir, and his uncle added to what he supposed Horace +possessed a good sum yearly; making the man rich as he thought, and +causing occasionally a slight passing regret that Horace was so +saving. "He might do so much more if he liked on his good income," the +elder Mr. Erskine would say. But he did not know of the many sums for +ever paying to keep things quiet till death, the great paymaster, +should walk in and demand stern rights of himself, the elder, and pass +on the gold that we all must leave behind to the nephew, the younger +one. + +But in the nine years that had passed since the coward took his +revenge on a brave woman by doing that which killed her husband, great +things had happened to pretty Minnie Lorimer. The "county people" had +been after her--those same old families who had flouted her mother, +and prophesied eternal poverty to her poor pet baby--fatherless, too! +a fact that finished the story of their faults with a note of peculiar +infamy. + +That a man of good family should marry without money, become the +father of a lovely child, and _die_--that the mother should go back to +that old poverty-stricken home where that stiff-looking maid-servant +looked so steadily into the faces of all who stood and asked +admittance--that they should pretend to be happy!--altogether, it was +really too bad. + +Why did not Mrs. Lorimer, widow, go out as a governess? Who was to +bring up that unfortunate child on a paltry one hundred a year? Of +course {184} she begged for help. Of course they were supported by Mr. +Erskines's charity. A pretty humiliation of Lorimer's friends and +relations! + +Altogether, the whole of the great Lansdowne Lorimer connection had +pronounced that to have that young widow and her daughter belonging to +them was a trial very hard to bear. They had not done talking when +Mary made that quiet walk to church--no one but her mother and Jenifer +being in the secret--and reappeared in the county after a few months' +absence as mistress of Beremouth. Mr. Brewer had counted his money, +and had told the world what it amounted to. And this time he never +apologized, he only confessed himself a person scarcely deserving of +respect, because he had done so little good with the mammon of +unrighteousness. But Mary now would tell him how to manage. He did +perhaps take a little to the humble line. He hoped the world would +forget and forgive his former shortcomings; such conduct would +assuredly not now be persevered in; and that resolution was fulfilled +without any doubt. The splendors of Beremouth were something to talk +about, and the range of duties involved in a large hospitality were +admirably performed. + +Old Lady Caroline, whose pianoforte survived in Mrs. Morier's house at +Marston, considered the matter without using quite as many words as +her neighbors. "That man will be giving money to Lorimer's child." She +was quite right. He had already invested five thousand pounds for +Minnie. Lady Caroline (what an odd pride hers was!) went to Beremouth, +and got upon business matter with "Mother Mary." + +She would give that child five thousand pounds in her will if Mr. +Brewer would not give her anything. Alas! it was already given. Mr. +Brewer used to count among his faults that, with him, it was too much +a word and a blow, especially when a good action was in question, and +this curious unusual fault he had decidedly committed in the case of +Minnie Lorimer. The money was hers safe enough, invested in the hands +of trustees. "Safe enough," said Mr. Brewer exultingly; and then, +looking with a saddened air on Lady Caroline, he added, gravely, that +it couldn't be helped! "The man's a saint or a fool, I can't tell +which," was Lady Caroline's very cute remark. "The most unselfish +idiot that ever lived. Does Mary like him, or laugh at him, I wonder?" + +But Lady Caroline cultivated Mr. Brewer's acquaintance. Not in an evil +way, but because she had been brought up to _use_ the world, and to +slave all mankind who would consent to such persecution. Not wickedly, +I repeat, but with a fixed intention she cultivated Mr. Brewer, and +she got money out of him. + +Mr. Brewer still made experiments with ten pounds. He helped Lady +Caroline in her many charities, as long as her charities were confined +to food and clothing, so much a week to the poor, and getting good +nursing for the sick. But once Lady Caroline used that charity purse +for purposes of "souping"--it has become an English word, so I do not +stop to explain it--and then Mr. Brewer scolded her. Nobody had ever +disputed any point with Lady Caroline. But Mr. Brewer explained, with +a most unexpected lucidity, how it would be _right_ for him to make +her a Catholic, and yet _wrong_ for her to try her notions of +conversion on him. + +Lady Caroline kept up the quarrel for two years. She upbraided him for +his neglect, on his own principles, of Claudia. She abused him for the +different conduct pursued about his son. Mr. Brewer confessed his +faults and stood by his rights at the same time. Two whole years Lady +Caroline quarrelled, and Mr. Brewer never left the field. And +afterward, some time after, when Lady Caroline was in her last +illness, she said: "I believe that man Brewer may be right after all." +When she was dead young Mary Lorimer had double the sum that had {185} +been originally offered, and Freddy her largest diamond ring. + +But another thing had to come out of all this. Mrs. Brewer became a +Catholic; and that fact had made her recall her daughter to her +side--that fact had made Horace Erskine say, at the inn at Hull, that +he dreaded for the girl he, spoke to the influence of the home and the +people she was going to--that fact had brought that passion of tears +to Mary Lorimer's eyes, and had made her feel so angrily that he had +taken an advantage of her. + +Here, then, we are back again to the time at which we began the story. +Mary got home and was welcomed. + +The day after their arrival, if we leave Beremouth and its people, and +go into Marston to Mrs. Morier, "old Mrs. Morier" they called her now, +we shall see Jenifer walk into the pleasant upstairs drawing-room, +where the china glittered on comer-shelves, and large jars stood under +the long inlaid table, and say to her mistress: "Eleanor is come, if +you please, ma'am." + +Mrs. Morier looked up from her knitting. She had been sitting by the +window, and the beautiful old lady looked like a picture, as Jenifer +often declared, as she turned the face shadowed by fine lace toward +her servant with a sweet, gentle air, and smiling said, "And so you +want to go to Clayton--and Eleanor is to stay till you come back?" +"Yes, ma'am--it's the anniversary." "Go, then," said the gentle lady. +"And you must not leave me out of your prayers, my good Jenifer; for +you may be sure that I respect and value them." "I'll be back in good +time," said Jenifer; and the door closed, and Mrs. Morier continued +her knitting. + +Soon she saw from the window that incomparable Jenifer. Her brown +light stuff gown, the black velvet trimming looking what Jenifer +called _rich_ upon the same. Buttons as big as pennies all the way +down the front--the good black shawl with the handsome border that +had been Mr. Brewer's own present to her on the occasion of his +wedding; the fine straw bonnet and spotless white ribbon--the crowning +glory of the black lace veil--oh, Jenifer was _somebody_, I can tell +you, at Marston; and Jenifer looked it. + +It was with nothing short of a loving smile that Mrs. Morier watched +her servant. Servant indeed, but true, tried, and trusty friend also; +and when the woman was out of sight, and Mrs. Morier turned her +thoughts to Jenifer's prayer, and what little she knew of it, she +sighed--the sigh came from deep down, and the sigh was lengthened, and +her whole thoughts seemed to rest upon it--it was breathed out, at +last, and when it died away Mrs. Morier sat doing nothing in peaceful +contemplation till the door opened, and she whom we have heard called +Eleanor came in with inquiries as to the proper time for tea. + +I think that this Eleanor was perhaps about eight-and-twenty years of +age. She was strikingly beautiful. Perhaps few people have ever seen +anything more faultlessly handsome than this young woman's form and +face. She looked younger than she was. The perfectly smooth brow and +the extraordinary fair complexion made her look young. No one would +have thought, when looking at Eleanor, that she had ever _worked_. If +the finest and loveliest gentlewoman in the world had chosen to put on +a lilac cotton gown, and a white checked muslin apron, and bring up +Mrs. Morier's early tea, she would perhaps have looked a little like +Eleanor; provided her new employment had not endowed her with a +momentary awkwardness. But admiration, when looking at this woman, was +a little checked by a sort of atmosphere of pain--or perhaps it was +only patience--that surrounded the beautiful face, and showed in every +gesture and movement, and rested on the whole being, as it were. + +{186} + +Eleanor suffered. And it was the pain of the mind and heart, not of +the body--no one who had sufficient sensibility to see what I have +described could ever doubt that the inner woman, not the outer fleshly +form of beauty, suffered; and that the woe, whatever it was, had +written _patience_ on that too placid brow. + +"And are they all well at Dr. Rankin's?" "Very well, ma'am, I believe. +I saw Lady Greystock in her own rooms an hour before I came away. I +said that I was coming here, and she said"--Eleanor smiled--"Lady +Greystock said, ma'am, 'My duty to grandmamma Morier--mind you give +the message right.'" + +"Ah," said Mrs. Morier, "Lady Greystock is wonderfully well." "There +is nothing the matter with her, ma'am." "Except that she never goes to +Beremouth." What made the faint carnation mount to Eleanor's +face?--what made the woman pause to collect herself before she +spoke?--"Oh, ma'am, she is right not to try herself. She'll go there +one day." "I suppose you like being at Dr. Rankin's?" "Very much. My +place of wardrobe-woman is not hard, but it is responsible. It suits +me well. And Mrs. Rankin is very good to me. And I am near Lady +Greystock." "How fond you are of her!" "There is not anything I would +not do for her," said the woman with animation. "I hope, indeed Dr. +Rankin tells me to believe, that I have had a great deal to do with +Lady Greystock's cure. She has treated me like a sister; and I can +never feel for any one what I feel for her." "Lady Greystock always +speaks of you in a truly affectionate way. She says you have known +better days." "_Different_ days; I don't say _better_. I have nothing +to wish for. Ever since the time that Lady Greystock determined on +staying at Blagden, I have been quite happy." "You came just as she +came." "Only two months after." "And did you like her from the first?" +"Oh, Mrs. Morier, you know she was very ill when she came. I never +thought of love, but of every care and every attention that one woman +could show to another. Had it been life for life, I am sure she might +have had _my_ life--that was all that I _then_ thought. But when she +recovered and loved me for what I had done for her, then it was love +for love. Lady Greystock gave me a new life, and I will serve her as +long as I may for gratitude, and as a thanksgiving." + +When Eleanor was gone, her pleasant manner, her beauty, the music of +her voice, and the indescribable grace that belonged to her remained +with Mrs. Morier as a pleasant memory, and dwelling on it, she +lingered over her early tea, and ate of hashed mutton, making +meditation on how Eleanor had got to be Jenifer's great friend; and +whether their both being Catholics was enough to account for it. + +This while Jenifer walked on toward Clayton. She stood at last on the +top of a wide table-land, and looked from the short grass where the +wild thyme grew like green velvet, and the chamomile gave forth +fragrance as you trod it under foot, down a rugged precipice into the +little seaport that sheltered in the cove below. The roofs of the +strange, dirty, tumble-down houses were packed thickly below her. The +nature of the precipitous cliff was to lie in terraces, and here and +there goats and donkeys among the branching fern gave a picturesque +variety to the scene, and made the practical Jenifer say to herself +that Clayton Cove was not "that altogether abominable" when seen to +the best advantage on the afternoon of a rich autumn day. A zigzag +path, rather difficult to get upon on account of the steepness of the +broken edge and the rolling stones, led from Jenifer's feet down to +the terraces; short cuts of steps and sliding stones led from terrace +to terrace, and these paths ended, as it appeared to the eye, in a +chimney-top that sent up a volume of white smoke, and a {187} pleasant +scent of wood and burning turf. By the side of the house that owned +the chimney, which was whitewashed carefully, and had white blinds +inside the green painted wood-work of small sash windows, appeared +another roof, long, high, narrow, with a cross on the eastern gable, +and that was the Catholic chapel--the house Father Daniels lived in; +and after a moment's pause down the path went Jenifer with all the +speed that a proper respect for her personal safety permitted. When +the woman got to the last terrace, she opened a wicket gate, and was +in a sunny garden, still among slopes and terraces, and loaded with +flowers. Common flowers no doubt, but who ever saw Father Daniels's +Canterbury bells and forgot them? There, safe in the bottom walk, +wide, and paved with pebbles from the beach, Jenifer turned not to the +right where the trellised back-door invited, but to the left, where +the west door of the chapel stood open--and she walked in. There was +no one there. She knelt down. After a while she rose, and kneeling +before the image of our Lady, said softly: "Mother, she had no mother! +Eleven years this day since that marriage by God's priest, and at his +holy altar--eleven years this day since that marriage which the laws +of the men of this country deny and deride. Mother, she had no mother! +Oh, mighty Mother! forget neither of them. Remember her for her +trouble, and him for his sin." Not for vengeance but for salvation, +she might have added; but Jenifer had never been accustomed to explain +her prayers. Then she knelt before the adorable Presence on the altar, +and her prayer was very brief--"My life, and all that is in it!"--was +it a vain repetition that she said it again and again? Again and +again, as she looked back and thought of what _it had been_; as she +thought of that which _it was_; and knew of the future that, blessed +by our Lady's prayers, she should take it, whatever it might be, as +the will of God. And so she said it; by so doing offering _herself_. +One great thing had colored all her life; had, to her, been _life_-- +_her_ life; she, with that great shadow on the past, with the weight +of the cross on the present, with the fear of unknown ill on the +future, gathered together all prayer, all hope, all fear, and gave it +to God in those words of offering that were, on her lips, an earnest +prayer; the prayer of submission, of offering, of faith--"_My life, +and all that is in it_." + +Jenifer could tell out her wishes to the Mother of God, and had told +them, in the words she had used, but it was this woman's way to have +no wishes when she knelt before God himself. "My life, and all that is +in it;" that was Jenifer's prayer. + +After a time she left the chapel, putting pieces of money, many, into +the church box, and went into the house. She knew Mrs. Moore, the +priest's housekeeper, very well. She was shown into Father Daniels's +sitting-room. He was a venerable man of full seventy years of age, and +as she entered he put down the tools with which he was carving the +ornaments of a wooden altar, and said, "You are later than your note +promised. I have therefore been working by daylight, which I don't +often do." She looked at the work. It seemed to her to be very +beautiful. "It is fine and teak-wood," said Father Daniels; "part of a +wreck. They brought it to me for the church. We hope to get up a +little mariner's chapel on the south side of the church before long, +and I am getting ready the altar as far as I can with my own hands. +'Mary, star of the sea'--that will be our dedication. The faith +spreads here. Mistress Jenifer; and I hope we are a little better than +we used to be." And Father Daniels crossed himself and thanked God for +his grace that had blessed that wild little spot, and made many +Christians there. {188} Jenifer smiled, as the holy man spoke in a +playful tone, and she said, "It is the anniversary, father." "Of +Eleanor's marriage. Yes. I remembered her at mass. Has she heard +anything of him?" "Yes, father; she has heard his real name, she +thinks. She has always suspected, from the time that she first began +to suspect evil, that she had never known him by his real name--she +never believed his name to be Henry Evelyn, as he said when he married +her." + +"And what is his real name?" + +"Horace Erskine," said Jenifer. + +"What!" exclaimed Father Daniels, with an unusual tone of alarm in his +voice. "The man who was talked of for Lady Greystock before she +married--the nephew of Mrs. Brewer's sister's husband!" "Yes, sir." +"Is she sure?" "No. She has not seen him. But she has traced him, she +thinks. Corny Nugent, who is her second cousin, and knew them both +when the marriage took place, went as a servant to the elder Mr. +Erskine, and knew Henry Evelyn, as they called him in Ireland, when he +came back from abroad. He _thought_ he knew him. Then Horace Erskine, +finding he was an Irishman, would joke him about his religion, and how +he was the only Catholic in the house, and how he was obliged to walk +five miles to mass. Time was when Mr. Erskine, the uncle, would not +have kept a Catholic servant. But since Mr. and Mrs. Brewer married, +he has been less bigoted. He took Corny Nugent in London. It was just +a one season's engagement. But when they were to return to Scotland +they proposed to keep him on, and he stayed. After a little Horace +Erskine asked him about Ireland; and even if he knew such and such +places; and then he came by degrees to the very place--the very +people--to his own knowledge of them. Corny gave crafty answers. But +he disliked the sight of the man, and the positions he put him into. +So he left. He left three months ago. And he found out Eleanor's +direction, and told her that surely--surely and certainly--her +husband, Henry Evelyn, was no other than his late master's nephew, who +had been trying to marry more than one, only always some unlooked-for +and unaccountable thing had happened to prevent it. Our Lady be +praised, for her prayers have kept off that last woe--I make no +doubt--thank God!" + +"How many years is it since they married?" "Eleven, to-day. I keep the +anniversary. He is older than he looks. He is thirty-two, this year, +if he did not lie about his age, as well as everything else. He told +Father Power he was of age. He said, too--God forgive him--that he was +a Catholic." + +"But when I followed Father Power at Rathcoyle," said the priest, +"there was no register of the marriage. I was sent for on the +afternoon of the marriage day. I found Father Power in a dying state. +He was an old man, and had long been infirm. The marriage was not +entered. It was known to have taken place. Your niece and her husband +were gone. I walked out that evening to your brother's farm. He knew +nothing of the marriage. He had received a note to say that Eleanor +was gone with her husband, and that they would hear from them when +they got to England. Why Father Power, who was a saintly man, married +them, I do not know. It was unlawful for him to marry a Catholic and a +Protestant. If your sister went through no other marriage, she has no +claim on her Protestant husband. If she could prove that he passed +himself off as a Catholic, she might have some ground against +him--but, can she?" + +"No, sir; on the contrary, she knew that she was marrying a +Protestant; she had hopes of converting him; she learnt from {189} +himself, afterward, that he had deceived the priest. She had said to +him that she would many him if Father Power consented. He came back +and said that the consent had been given. He promised to marry her in +Dublin conformably to the license he had got there--or there he had +lived the proper time for getting one, so he declared. But I have +ceased to believe anything he said. Then my brother wrote the girl a +dreadful letter to the direction in Liverpool that she had sent to +him. Then, after some months, she wrote to me at Marston. She was +deserted, and left in the Isle of Man. She supported herself there for +more than a year. I told Mr. Brewer that I knew a sad story of the +daughter of a friend, and one of her letters, saying her last gold was +changed into silvery and that she was too ill and worn oat to win +more, was so dreadful, that I feared for her mind. So Mr. Brewer went +to Dr. Rankin, and got her taken in as a patient, at first, and when +she got well she was kept on as wardrobe-woman. She had got a tender +heart; when she heard of Lady Greystock's trial, she took to her. Dr. +Rankin says he could never have cured Lady Greystock so perfectly nor +so quickly, but for Eleanor." + +"That is curious," said Father Daniels, musingly. "Have you been in +Ireland since the girl left it with her husband?" + +"I never was there in my life. My mother was Irish, and she lived as a +servant in England. She married an Englishman, and she had two +daughters, my sister--Eleanor's mother--and myself. My mother went +back to Ireland a year after her husband's death, on a visit, and she +left my sister and me with my father's family. She married in Ireland +almost directly, and married well, a man with a good property, a +farmer. She died, and left one son. My sister and I were four and five +years older than this half-brother of ours. Then time wore on and my +sister Ellen went to Ireland, and she married there, and the fever +came to the place where they lived, and carried them both off, and she +left me a legacy--my niece Eleanor--oh, sir I with such a holy letter +of recommendation from her death-bed. Poor sister! Poor, holy soul! +Our half-brother asked to have Eleanor to stay with him when she knew +enough to be useful on the farm. He was a good Christian, and I let +him take the girl. She was very pretty, people said, and I wished her +to marry soon. Then there came--sent, he said, by a great rich English +nobleman--a man who called himself a gardener, or something of that +sort. He lodged close by; he made friends with my brother. He was +often off after rare bog-plants, and seemed to lead a busy if an easy +life. He would go to mass with them. But they knew he was a +Protestant. Eleanor knew that her uncle would not consent to her +marrying a Protestant. But, poor child, she gave her heart away to the +gentleman in disguise. He had had friends there--a fishing party. Sir, +he never intended honorably; but they were married by the priest, and +he got over the holy man, whom everybody loved and honored, with his +falseness, as he had got over the true-hearted and trusting woman whom +he had planned to desert." + +"Well," said Father Daniels, "you know I succeeded this priest for a +short time at Rathcoyle. He died on that wedding day. I never +understood how it all happened. I left a record to save Eleanor's +honor; but she has no legal claim on her husband--it ought not to have +been done." Jenifer shrank beneath the plainness of that truth--"_My +life, and all that is in it,_" her heart said, sinking, as it were, at +the sorrow that had come on the girl whom her sister had left to her +with her dying breath. + +"She ought not to have trusted a man who was a Protestant, and not +willing to marry her in the only way that is legal by the Irish +marriage-law." "_My life, and all that is in it._" {190} So hopelessly +fell on her heart every word that the priest spoke, that, but for that +offering of all things to God, poor Jenifer could scarcely have borne +her trial. + +"And if this Henry Evelyn should turn out to be Horace Erskine, why, +he will marry some unhappy woman some time, of course, and the law of +the land will give him one wife, and by the law of God another woman +will claim him. Oh, if people would but obey holy church, and not try +to live under laws of their own inventing." "_My life, and all that is +in it!_" Again, only that could have made Jenifer bear the trials that +were presented to her. + +"And if gossip spoke truth he was very near marrying Lady Greystock +once--Mr. Brewer, himself, thought it was going to be." One more great +act of submission--"_My life, and all that is in it!_"--came forth +from Jenifer's heart. She loved Mr. Brewer, with a faithful sort of +worship--if such a trial as that had come on him through her +trouble!--_that_ was over; _that_ had been turned aside; but the +thought gave rise to a question, even as she thanked God for the +averted woe. + +'"Is it Eleanor's duty to find out if Henry Evelyn and Horace Erskine +are one?" "Yes," said the priest "Yes; it is. It is everybody's duty +to prevent mischief. It is her duty, as far as lies in her power, to +prevent sin." + +"And if it proves true--that which Corny Nugent says, what then?" + +"Be content for the present. It is a very difficult case to act in." + +Poor Jenifer felt the priest to be sadly wanting in sympathy--she +turned again to him who knows all and feels all, and she offered up +the disappointment that _would_ grow up in her heart--"_My life, and +all that is in it!_" + +She turned to go; and then Father Daniels spoke so kindly, so +solemnly, with such a depth of sympathy in the tone of his voice--"God +bless you, my child;" and the sign of the cross seemed to bless her +sensibly. "Thank you, father!" And, without lifting her eyes, she left +the room and the house; and still saying that prayer that had grown to +be her strength and her help, she went up the steep rugged path to the +spreading down; and then she turned round and looked on the great sea +heaving, lazily under the sunset rays, that painted it in the far +distance with gold and red, and a silvery light, till it touched the +ruby-colored sky, and received each separate ray of glory on its +breast just where earth and heaven seemed to meet--just where you +could fancy another world looking into the depths of the great sea +that flowed up into its gates. It seemed to do Jenifer good. The whole +scene was so glorious, and the glory was so far-spreading--all the +world seemed to rest around her bathed in warm light and basking in +the smile of heaven. She stood still and said again, in a sweet soft +voice: "_My life, and all that is in it!_" + +Her great dread that day when Mr. Brewer had told her to put him and +his into her prayer, had been lest the punishment of sin should come +on the man who had deserted her dear girl, and lest that sin's effect +in a heart-broken disease should fall on the girl herself. + +When Mr. Brewer said, "Put me and mine into that prayer, Jenifer," the +thought had risen that she would tell him of Eleanor. She had told +him, and he had helped her. But she had never thought that, by acting +on the impulse, the two women whose hearts Horace Erskine had crushed, +as a wilful child breaks his playthings when he has got tired or out +of temper, had been brought together under one roof, and made to love +each other. Yet so it had been. The woman who could do nothing but +pray _had_ prayed; and a thing had been done which no human +contrivance could have effected. And as Jenifer stood gazing on the +heavens that grew brighter and brighter, and on the water that +reflected every glory, and seemed to bask with a living motion in the +great magnificence that was poured upon it, she recollected how great +a pain had been {191} spared her; she thought how terrible it would +have been if Claudia Brewer had married Horace Erskine--Horace +Erskine, the husband of the deserted Eleanor; and she gave thanks to +God. + +Now she drew her shawl tighter round her, and walked briskly on. She +got across the down, and over a stone stile in the fence that was its +boundary from the road. She turned toward Marston, and walked fast--it +was almost getting cold after that glorious sunset, and she increased +her pace and went on rapidly. She soon saw a carriage in the road +before her, driving slowly, and meeting her. When it came near enough +to recognize her, the lady who drove let her ponies go, and then +pulled up at Jenifer's side. "Now, Mistress Jenifer," said Lady +Greystock, looking bright and beautiful in the black hat, and long +streaming black feather, that people wore in those days, "here am I to +drive you home. I knew where you were going. Eleanor tells me her +secrets. Do you know that? This is an anniversary; and you give gifts +and say prayers. Are you comfortable? I am going to drive fast to +please the ponies; they like it, you know." And very true did Lady +Greystock's words seem; for the little creatures given their heads +went off at a pace that had in it every evidence of perfect good will. +"I came to drive you back, and to pick up Eleanor, and drive her to +Blagden after I had delivered you up safely to grandmamma Morier. +Mother Mary came to see me this afternoon. You had better go and see +Minnie soon. Jenifer"--Jenifer looked up surprised at a strange tone +in Lady Greystock's voice---"Jenifer," speaking very low, "if you can +pray for my father and his wife, and all he loves, pray now. It would +be hard for a man to be trapped by the greatness of his own good +heart." + +"Is there anything wrong, my dear?" Jenifer spoke softly, and just as +she had been used to speak to the Claudia Brewer of old days. + +"I can't say more," Lady Greystock replied; "here we are at Marston." +Then she talked of common things; and told James, the man-servant, to +drive the horses up and down the street while she bade Mrs. Morier +"Good night." And they went into the house, and half an hour after +Lady Greystock and Eleanor had got into the pony carriage, and were +driving away. The quiet street was empty once more. The little +excitement made by Lady Greystock and her ponies subsided. Good-byes +were spoken, and the quiet of night settled down on the streets and +houses of Marston. + +Jenifer had wondered over Lady Greystock's words; and comforted +herself, and stilled her fears, and set her guesses all at rest by +those few long-used powerful words--"_My life, and all that is in +it!_" She offered life, and gave up its work and its trials to God; +and Jenifer, too, was at rest then. + +But at Clayton things were not quite in the same peaceful state as in +that little old-fashioned inland town. Clayton was very busy; and +among the busy ones, though busy in his own way, was Father Daniels. + +That morning a messenger had brought him a packet from Mrs. Brewer; +for "Mother Mary" since becoming a Catholic had wanted advice, and +wanted strength, and she had sought and found what she wanted, and now +she had sent to the same source for further help. As soon as Jenifer +was gone, Father Daniels put away his teak-wood and his carving tools, +and packed up his drawings and his pencils. He was a man of great +neatness, and his accuracy in all business, and his fruitful +recollection of every living soul's wants, as far as they had ever +been made known to him, were charming points of his character-- +points, that is, natural gifts, that the great charity which belonged +to his priesthood adorned and made meritorious. {192} While he +"tidied away his things," as his housekeeper Mrs. Moore used to say, +bethought and he prayed--his mind foresaw great possible woe; he knew, +with the knowledge that is made up of faith and experience united, +that some things seem plainly to know no other master than prayer. +People are prayed out of troubles that no other power can touch. Every +now and then this fact seems to be imprinted in legible characters on +some particular woe, actual or threatened; and though Father Daniels, +like a holy priest, prayed always and habitually, he yet felt, as we +have said, with respect to the peculiar entanglements that the letter +from Mrs. Brewer in the morning and the revelation made by Jenifer in +the afternoon seemed to threaten. So, when he again sat down, it was +with Mrs. Brewer's letter before him on the table, and a lamp lighted, +and "the magnifiers," to quote Mrs. Moore again, put on to make the +deciphering of Mrs. Erskine's handwriting as easy as possible. Mrs. +Brewer's was larger, blacker, plainer--and her note was short. It only +said: "Read my sister's letter, which I have just received. It seems +so hard to give up the child; it would be much harder to see her less +happy than she has always been at home. I don't like Horace Erskine. +It is as if I was kept from liking him. I really have no reason for my +prejudice against him. Come and see me if you can, and send or bring +back the letter." Having put this aside. Father Daniels opened Mrs. +Erskine's letter. It must be given just as it was written to the +reader: + + DEAREST MARY: + + "You must guess how dreadful your becoming a Catholic is to us. I + cannot conceive why, when you had been happy so long--these thirteen + years--you should do this unaccountable thing now. There must have + been some strange influence exercised over you by Mr. Brewer. I + feared how it might be when, nine years ago, your boy was born, and + you gave him up so weakly. However, I think you will see plainly + that you have quite forfeited a mother's rights over Mary. She is + seventeen, and will not have a happy home with you now. Poor child, + she would turn Catholic to please you, and for peace sake, perhaps. + But you cannot _wish_ such a misery for her. She will, I suppose, + soon be the only Protestant in your house. I can't help blaming old + Lady Caroline, even after her death; for she certainly brought the + spirit of controversy into Beremouth, and stirred up Mr. Brewer to + think of his rights. Now, I write to propose what is simply an act + of justice on your part, though really, I must say, an act of great + grace on the part of my husband. Horace is in love with Mary. As to + the fancy he was supposed to have for Claudia, I _know_ that _that_ + was only a fancy. He was taken with her wilful, spoilt-child + ways--you certainly did not train her properly--and he wanted her + money. Of course as you had been married four years without + children, he did not suspect anything about Freddy. It was an + entanglement well got rid of; and Claudia wanted no comforting, that + was plain enough. But it is different now. Horace _is_ in love + _now_. And if Mary is not made a Catholic by Mr. Brewer and you and + old Jenifer, she will say, 'Yes,' like a good child. We are + _extremely_ fond of her. And Mr. Erskine generously offers to make a + very handsome settlement on her. I consider a marriage, and a very + speedy one, with Horace the best thing; now that you have, by your + own act, made her home so homeless to her. I am sure you ought to be + very thankful for so obviously good an arrangement of difficulties. + Let me hear from you as soon as Horace arrives. He is going to speak + to you directly. + "Your affectionate sister, + "Lucia Erskine. + + "P.S.--As Mr. Brewer has always said that, Mary being his adopted + child, he should pay her on her marriage the full interest of the + money which will be hers at twenty-one, {193} of course Horace + expects that, as we do. Lady Caroline's ten thousand, Mr. Brewer's + five thousand, and the hundred a year for which her father insured + his life, and which I find that you give to her, will, with Horace's + means, make a good income; and to this Mr. Erskine will, as Mary is + my niece, add very liberally. I cannot suppose that you can think of + objecting. L. E." + +Father Daniels read this letter over very carefully. Then he placed +it, with Mrs. Brewer's note, in his pocket-book, and immediately +putting on his hat, and taking his stick, he walked into the kitchen. + +"Where's your husband?" to Mrs. Moore. + +"Mark is only just outside, sir." + +"I shall be back soon. Tell him to saddle the cob." One of Mr. +Brewer's experiments had been to give Father Daniels a horse, and to +endow the horse with fifty pounds a year, for tax, keep, house-rent, +physic, saddles, shoes, clothing, and general attendance. It was, we +May say as we pass on, an experiment which answered to perfection. The +cob's turnpikes alone remained as a grievance in Mr. Brewer's mind. He +rather cherished the grievance. Somehow it did him good. It certainly +deprived him of all feeling of merit. All thought of his own +generosity was extinguished beneath the weight of a truth that could +not be denied--"that cob is a never-ending expense to Father Daniels!" +However, this time, without a thought of the never-ending turnpike's +tax, the cob was ordered; being late, much to Mr. and Mrs. Moore's +surprise; and Father Daniels walked briskly out of the garden, down +the village seaport, past the coal-wharves, where everything looked +black and dismal, and so pursued his way on the top of the low edge of +the cliff, to a few tidy-looking houses half a mile from Clayton, +which were railed in from the turfy cliff-side, and had painted on +their ends, "Good bathing here." The houses were in a row. He knocked +at the centre one, and it was opened by a man of generally a seafaring +cast. "Mr. Dawson in?" "Yes, your reverence. His reverence, Father +Dawson, is in the parlor;" and into the parlor walked Father Daniels. +It was a short visit made to ascertain if his invalid friend could say +mass for him the next morning at a later hour than usual--the hour for +the parish mass, in fact; and to tell him why. They were dear friends +and mutual advisers. They now talked over Mrs. Erskine's letter. + +"There can be no reason in the world why Miss Lorimer should not marry +Horace Erskine if she likes him, provided he is not Henry Evelyn. He +stands charged with being Henry Evelyn, and of being the doer of Henry +Evelyn's deeds. You must tell Mrs. Brewer. It is better never to tell +suspicions, if you can, instead, tell facts. In so serious a matter +you may be obliged to tell suspicions, just to keep mischief away at +the beginning. Eleanor must see the man. As to claiming him, that's +useless. She acted the unwise woman's part, and she most bear the +unwise woman's recompense. He'll find somebody to marry him, no doubt; +but no woman ought to do it; no marriage of his can be right in God's +sight. So the course in the present instance is plain enough." Yes, it +was plain enough; so Father Daniels walked back to Clayton and mounted +the cob, and rode away through the soft sweet night air, and got to +Beremouth just after ten o'clock. + +"I am come to say mass for you to-morrow," he said to Mr. Brewer, who +met him in the hall. "No, I won't go into the drawing-room. I won't +see any one to-night. I am going straight to the chapel." + +{194} + +"Ring for night prayers then in five minutes, will you?" said Mr. +Brewer. And Father Daniels, saying "Yes," walked on through the hall, +and up the great stair-case to his own room and the chapel, which, +were side by side. In five minutes the chapel bell was rung by the +priest. Mrs. Brewer looked toward her daughter. "Mary must do as she +likes;" said Mr. Brewer, in his open honest way driving his wife +before him out of the room. There stood Horace Erskine. It was as if +all in a moment the time for the great choice had come. They were at +the door--the girl stood still. They were gone, they were crossing the +hall; she could hear Mr. Brewer's shoes on the carpet--not too late +for her to follow. Her light step will catch theirs--they may go a +little further still before the very last moment comes. Her mother or +Horace? How dearly she loved her mother, how her child's heart went +after her, all trust and love--and Horace, _did_ she love him?--love +him well enough to stay _there--there_ and _then_, at a moment that +would weigh so very heavily in the scale of good and evil, right or +wrong? If he had not been there she might have stayed, if she stayed +now that he was there, should she not stay with him--more, leave her +mother and stay with him? Thought is quick. She stood by the table; +she looked toward the door, she listened--Horace held out his +hand--"With me, Mary--with _me_!" And she was gone. Gone even while he +spoke, across the hall, up the stairs and at that chapel door just as +this last of the servants, without knowing, closed it on her. Then +Mary went to her own room just at the head of the great stair-case, +and opened the doors softly, and knelt down, keeping it open, letting +the stair-case lamp stray into the darkness just enough to show her +where she was. There she knelt till the night prayers were over, and +when Mr. Brewer passed her door, she came out, a little glad to show +them that she had not been staying down stairs with Horace. He smiled, +and put his hand inside her arm and stopped her from going down. "My +dear child," he said, "I have had the great blessing of my life given +to me in the conversion of your mother. If God's great grace, for the +sake of his own blessed mother, should fall on you, you will not +quench it, my darling. Meanwhile, I shall never have a better time +than _this_ time to say, that I feel more than ever a father to you. +That if you will go on treating me with the childlike candor and trust +that I have loved to see in you, you will make me happier than you can +ever guess at, dear child." And then he kissed her, and Minnie eased +her heart by a few sobs and tears, and her head rested on his +shoulder, and she thanked him for his love. Then Father Daniels came +out of the chapel, and advanced to where they stood. Mary had long +known the holy man. He saw how it was in an instant. "Welcome home, +Mary; you see I come soon. And now--when I am saying mass to-morrow, +stay quietly in your own room, and pray to be taught to love God. Give +yourself to him. Don't trouble about questions. His you are. Rest on +the thought--and we will wait on what may come of it. I shall remember +you at mass to-morrow. Good-night. God bless you." + +"I can't come down again. My eyes are red," said Mary, to Mr. Brewer, +when they were again alone. And he laughed at her. "I'll send mamma +up," he said. And Mary went into her room. But she had taken no part +_against_ her mother; so her heart said, and congratulated itself. She +had not left her, and stayed with Horace. She had had those few words +with her step-father. That was over, and very happily too. She had +seen Father Daniels again. It was getting speedily like the old +things, and the old times, before the long visit to Scotland, where +Horace Erskine was the sun of her {195} new world. Somehow she felt +that he was losing power every moment--also she felt, a little +resentfully, that there had been things said or thought, or +insinuated, about the dear home she was loving so well, which were +unjust, untrue, unkind; nay, more, cruel, shameful!--and so wrong to +unite _her_ to such ideas; to make her a party to such thoughts. In +the midst of her resentment, her mother came in. "Nobody ever was so +charming looking," was the first thought. "How young she looks--how +much younger and handsomer than Aunt Erskine. What a warm loving +atmosphere this house always had, and _has_." The last word with the +emphasis of a perfect conviction. "And so you have made your eyes red +on papa's coat--and I had to wipe the tears off with my +pocket-handkerchief. Oh, you darling, I am sure Horace Erskine thought +we had beaten you!" Then kisses, and laughter; not quite without a tear +or two on both, sides, however. "Now, my darling, Horace has told us +his love story--and so he is very fond of you?" "Mamma, mamma, I love +you better than all the earth." Kisses, laughter, and just one or two +tears, all over again. + +"My darling child, you have been some months away from us--do you +think you can quite tell your own mind on a question which is +life-long in its results? I mean, that the thing that is pleasant in +one place may not be so altogether delightful in another. I should +like you to decide so great a question while in the full enjoyment of +your own rights _here_. This is your _home_. _This_ is what you will +have to exchange for something else when you marry. You are very young +to marry--not eighteen, remember. Whenever you decide that question, I +should like you to decide it on your own ground, and by your own +mother's side." + +"I wonder whether you know how wise you are?" was the question that +came in answer. "Do you know, mother, that I cried like a baby at +Hull, because I felt all you have said, and even a little more, and +thought he was unkind to press me. You know Aunt Erskine had told me; +and Horace, too, in a way--and he said at Hull he dreaded the +influence of this place, and--and--" "But there is nothing for _you_ +to dread. This home is yours; and its influence is good; and all the +love you command here is your safety." Mrs. Brewer spoke boldly, and +quite with the spirit of heroism. She was standing up for her rights. +But Mr. Brewer stood at the door. "The lover wants to smoke in the +park in the moonlight. Some information just to direct his thoughts, +you little witch," for his step-child had tried to stop his mouth with +a kiss-- + +"Papa, I am so happy. I won't, because I can't, plan to leave +everything I love best in the world just as I come back to it." "But +you must give Erskine some kind of an answer. The poor fellow is +really very much in earnest. Come and see him." "No, I won't," said +Mary, very much as the wilful Claudia might have uttered the words. +But Mary was thinking that there was a great contrast between the +genial benevolence she had come to, and the indescribable _something_ +which was _not_ benevolence in which she had lived ever since her +mother had become a Catholic. Mr. Brewer almost started. "I mean, +papa, that I must live here unmolested at least one month before I can +find out whether I am not always going to love _you_ best of all +mankind. Don't you think you could send Horace off to Scotland again +immediately?" "Bless the child! Think of the letters that have +passed--you read them, or knew of them?" "_Knew_ of them," said Mary, +nodding her head confidentially, and looking extremely naughty. "Well; +and I asked him here!" "Yes; I know that." "And you now tell me to +send him away! {196} My dear!" exclaimed Mr. Brewer, looking +appealingly at his wife. "Dearest, you must tell Mr. Erskine that Mary +really would like to be left quiet for awhile. Say so now; and +to-morrow you can suggest his going soon, and returning in a few +weeks." "And to-morrow I can have a cold and lie in bed. Can't I?" +said Mary. But now they ceased talking, and heard Horace Erskine go +out of the door to the portico. "There! he's gone. And I am sure I can +smell a cigar--and I could hate smoking, couldn't I?" Mother and +father now scolded the saucy child, and condemned her to solitude and +sleep. And when they were gone the girl put her head out of the open +window, and gazed across the spreading park, so peaceful in its +far-stretching flat, just roughened in places by the fern that had +begun to get brown under the hot sun; and then she listened to the +sound of the wind that came up in earnest whispers from the woody +corners, and the far-off forests of oak. The sound rose and fell like +waves, and the silence between those low outpourings of mysterious +sound was loaded with solemnity. + +Do the whispering woods praise him; and are their prayers in the tall +trees? She was full of fancies that night. But the words Father +Daniels had said to her seemed to her to come again on the +night-breeze, and then she was quiet and still. And yet--and +yet--though she _tried_ to forget, and _tried_ to keep her mind at +peace, the spirit within would rise from its rest, and say that she +had left an atmosphere of evil speaking and uncharitableness; that +malice and harsh judgment had been hard at work, and all to poison +_home_, and to win her from it. + +And while she was trying to still these troublings of the mind, Mr. +Brewer, by her mother's side, was reading for the first time Mrs. +Erskine's letter, which Father Daniels had returned. "My dear, my +dear," said Mr. Brewer, "a very improper letter. I think Mary is a +very extraordinary girl not to have been prejudiced against me. I +shall always feel grateful to her. And as to this letter, which I call +a very painful letter, don't you think we had better burn it?" And so, +by the assistance of a lighted taper, Mr. Brewer cleared that evil +thing out of his path for ever. + +"Eleanor," said Lady Greystock, "how lovely this evening is. The moon +is full, and how glorious! Shall we drive by a roundabout way to +Blagden? James," speaking to the man who occupied the seat behind, +"how far is it out of our way if we go through the drive in Beremouth +Park, and come out by the West Lodge into the Blagden turnpike road?" +"It will be two miles further, my lady. But the road is very good, and +the carriage will run very light over the gravelled road in the park." +"Then we'll go." So on getting to the bottom of the street in which +Mrs. Morier lived, Lady Greystock took the road to Beremouth; and the +ponies seemed to enjoy the change, and the whole world, except those +three who were passing so pleasantly through a portion of it, seemed +to sleep beneath the face of that great moon, wearing, as all full +moons do, a sweet grave look of watching on its face. + +"Isn't it glorious? Isn't it grand, this great expanse and this +perfect calm? Ah, there goes a bat; and a droning beetle on the wing +just makes one know what silence we are passing through. How pure the +air feels. Oh, what blessings we have in life--how many more than we +know of. I think of that in the still evenings often. Do you, +Eleanor?" + +"Yes, Lady Greystock." But Eleanor spoke in a very calm, +business-like, convinced sort of manner; not the least infected by the +tears of tenderness and the poetical feeling that Lady Greystock had +betrayed. + +{197} + +"Yes, Lady Greystock And when in great moments"--"Great moments! I +like that," said Claudia--"when I have those thoughts I think of +you." "Of me?" "Yes. And I am profoundly struck by the goodness of +God, who endowed the great interest of my life with so powerful an +attraction for me. I must have either liked or disliked you. I am so +glad to love you." + +"Eleanor, I wish you would tell me the story of your life." They had +passed through the lodge gates now, and were driving through Beremouth +Park. "You were not always what you are now." + +"You will know it one day," said Eleanor, softly. "Oh, see how the +moon comes out from behind that great fleecy cloud; just in time to +light us as we pass through the shadows which these grand oaks cast. +What lines of silver light lie on the road before us. It is a treat to +be out in such a place on such a night as this. Stay, stay, Lady +Greystock. What is that?" + +Lady Greystock pulled up suddenly, and standing full in the moonlight, +on the turf at the side of the carriage, was a tall, strong-built man. +He took off his cap with a respectful air, and said, "I beg pardon. I +did not intend to stop you. But if you will allow me I will ask your +servant a question." He addressed Lady Greystock, and did not seem to +look at Eleanor, though she was nearest to him. Eleanor had suddenly +pulled a veil over her face; but Lady Greystock had taken hers from +her hat, and her uncovered face was turned toward the man with the +moonlight full upon it. He said to the servant, "Can you tell me where +a person called Eleanor Evelyn is to be found? Mrs. Evelyn she is +probably called. I want to know where she is." Before James, who had +long known the person by his mistress's side as Mrs. Evelyn, could +speak, or recover from his very natural surprise, Eleanor herself +spoke. "Yes," she said, "Mrs. Evelyn lives not far from Marston. I +should advise you to call on Mrs. Jenifer Stanton, who lives at +Marston with Mrs. Morier. She will tell you about her." "She who lives +with Madam Morier, of course?" said the man. "Yes; the same." +"Goodnight." + +"Good night," said Lady Greystock in answer, and obeying Eleanor's +whispered "Drive on," she let the ponies, longing for their stable, +break into their own rapid pace, and, soon out of the shadows, they +were in the light--the broad, calm, silent light--once more. + + + + +TO BE CONTINUED + +------ + +{198} + + +Translated from Le Correspondant + +A PRETENDED DERVISH IN TURKESTAN. [Footnote 35] + +BY ÉMILE JONVEAUX + + [Footnote 35: "Herman Vambéry's Travels In Central Asia." Original + German edition. Leipzic: Brockhaus,1865. Paris: Xavier. French + translation by M. Forgues. Paris: Hachette.] + + +A brilliant imagination, a sparkling and ready wit, an indomitable +energy, the happy gift of seeing and painting man and things in a +lively manner, such are the qualities which we remark at first in the +new explorer of central Asia. But he is not only a bold traveller, a +delightful story-teller, full of spirit and originality, we must +recognize also in him a learned orientalist, an eminent ethnologist +and linguist. + +Born in 1832, in a small Hungarian town, he began at an early age to +study with passion the different dialects of Europe and Asia, +endeavoring to discover the relations between the idioms of the East +and West. Observing the strong affinity which exists between the +Hungarian and the Turco-Tartaric dialects, and resolved to return to +the cradle of the Altaic tongues, he went to Constantinople and +frequented the schools and libraries with an assiduity which in a few +years made of him a true effendi. But the nearer he approached the +desired end, the greater was his thirst for knowledge. Turkey began to +appear to his eyes only the vestibule of the Orient; he resolved to go +on, and to seek even in the depths of Asia the original roots of the +idioms and races of Europe. [Footnote 36] In vain his friends +represented to him the fatigues and perils of such a tour. Infirm as +he was (a wound had made him lame), could he endure a long march over +those plains of sand where he would be obliged to fight against the +terror of tempest, the tortures of thirst--where, in fine, he might +encounter death under a thousand forms? and then, how was he to force +his way among those savage and fanatic tribes, who are afraid of +travellers; and who a few years before had destroyed Moorcraft, +Conolly, and Stoddart? Nothing could shake the resolution of Vambéry; +he felt strong enough to brave suffering, and as to the dangers which +threatened him from man, his bold and inventive spirit would furnish +him the means to avert them in calling to his assistance their very +superstitions. Was he not as well versed in the knowledge of the Koran +and the customs of Islam as the most devout disciple of the Prophet? +He would disguise himself in the costume of a pilgrim dervish, and so +would go through Asia, distributing everywhere benedictions, but +making secretly his scientific studies and remarks. His foreign +physiognomy might, it is true, raise against him some obstacles. But +he counted on his happy star, and, above all, on his presence of mind, +to succeed at last. These difficulties were renewed often in the +course of his adventurous tour; more than once the suspicious look of +some powerful tyrant was fixed upon him as if to say: "Your features +betray you; you are a European!" The extraordinary coolness, the +ingenious expedients to which Vambéry had recourse in these +emergencies, give to the story of his travels an interest which +novelists and dramatists might envy. To this powerful charm, the work +of which we give a rapid sketch unites the merit of containing {199} +the most valuable notes on the social and political relations, the +manners and character, of the races which inhabit Central Asia. + + + + + + [Footnote 36: The linguistic and ethnographical studies form a + separate volume, which the author proposes to publish very soon.] + + +I. + +It was early in July, 1862, that Vambéry, leaving Tabriz, began his +long and perilous journey. Persia, at this period of the year, does +not offer the enchanting spectacle which the enthusiastic descriptions +of poets lead us to imagine. This boasted country displays only to the +eye a heaven of fire, burning and desert plains, through the midst of +which sometimes advances slowly a caravan covered with dust, exhausted +by fatigue and heat. After a monotonous and painful march of fifteen +days, our traveller sees at last rising from the horizon the outlines +of a number of domes, half lost in a bluish fog. This is Teheran, the +celestial city, the seat of sovereignty, as the natives pompously call +it. + +It was not easy to penetrate into this noble city; a compact crowd +filled the streets, asses, camels, mules laden with straw, barley, and +other marketable articles jostled each other in the strangest +confusion. "Take care! Take care!" vociferated the passers-by; each +one pressed, pushed, and blows of sticks and even of sabres were +distributed with surprising liberality. Vambéry succeeded in getting +safe and sound out of this tumult; he repaired to the summer residence +of the Turkish ambassador, where all the effendis were assembled under +a magnificent silken tent. Haydar Effendi, who represented the sultan +at the court of the Shah, had known the Hungarian traveller in +Constantinople; he received him most cordially, and very soon the +guests, gathered round a splendid banquet, began to call up souvenirs +of Stamboul, of the Bosphorus, and their delightful landscapes, so +different from the arid plains of Persia. + +The contrast of character is not less noticeable between the two +nations who divide the supremacy of the Mohammedan world. The Ottoman, +in consequence of his close relations with the West, is more and more +penetrated by European manners and civilization, and gains by this +contact an incontestable superiority. The Persian preserves more the +primitive type of the Orientals, his mind is more poetic, his +intelligence more prompt, his courtesy more refined; but proud of an +antiquity which loses itself in the night of time, he is deeply +hostile to our sciences and arts, of which he does not comprehend the +importance. Some choice spirits, indeed, have endeavored to rejuvenate +the worm-eaten institutions of Persia, and to lead their country in +the way of progress. The pressing solicitations of the minister +Ferrukh Khan engaged, some years ago, several nations of Europe, +Belgium, Prussia, Italy, to send ambassadors in the hope of forming +political and commercial relations with Iran; but their efforts were +checked, Persia not being ripe for this regeneration. + +Thanks to the generous hospitality of Haydar Effendi, Vambéry was +rested from his fatigues. Impatient to continue his journey, he wished +to take immediately the road to Herat; his friends dissuaded him from +it, because the hostilities just declared between the sultan of this +province and the sovereign of the Afghans rendered communications +impossible. The northern route was quite as impracticable; it would +have been necessary to cross during the winter months the vast deserts +of central Asia. The traveller was forced to await a more favorable +season. To remove gradually the obstacles which prevented the +realization of his plan, he began immediately to draw around him the +dervishes who every year pass through Teheran on their way to Turkey. +These pilgrims or hadjis never fail to address themselves to the +Ottoman embassy, for they are all _Sunnites_ and {200} recognize the +emperor of Constantinople as their spiritual head; Persia, on the +contrary, belongs to the sect of the _Shiites_, who may be called the +Protestants of Islam, with so profound a horror have they inspired the +faithful believers of Khiva, Bokhara, Samarcande, etc. Vambéry, who +proposed to visit all these fanatic states, had then adopted the +character of a pious and zealous Sunnite. Very soon it was noised +abroad among the pilgrims that Reschid Effendi (_nom de guerre_ of our +traveller) treated the dervishes as brothers, and that he was no doubt +himself a dervish in disguise. + +In the morning of the 20th of March, 1862, four hadjis presented +themselves before him whom they regarded as the devoted protector of +their sect. They came to complain of Persian officials who, on their +return from Mecca, had imposed upon them an abusive tax long since +abolished. "We do not demand the money of his excellency the +ambassador," said he who appeared to be the chief; "the only object of +our prayers is, that in future the Sunnites may be able to visit the +holy places without being forced to endure the exactions of the +infidel Shiites." Surprised at the disinterestedness of this language, +Vambéry considered more attentively the austere countenances of his +guests. In spite of their miserable clothing, a native nobility +discovered itself in them; their words were frank, their looks +intelligent. The little caravan of which they made a part, composed in +all of twenty-four persons, was returning to Bokhara. The resolution +of the European was immediately taken; he said to the pilgrims that +for a long time he had had an extreme desire to visit Turkestan, this +hearth of Islamite piety, this holy land which contained the tombs of +so many saints. "Obedient to this sentiment," said he, "I have quitted +Turkey; for many months I have awaited in Persia a favorable +opportunity, and I thank God that have at last found companions with +whom I may be able to continue my journey and accomplish my purpose." + +The Tartars were at first much astonished. How could an effendi, +accustomed to a life of luxury, resolve to encounter so many dangers, +to endure so many trials? The ardent faith of the pretended Sunnite +was hardly efficient to explain this prodigy, so the dervishes felt +themselves bound to enlighten him on the sad consequences to which +this excess of zeal might expose him. "We shall travel," they said, +"for whole weeks without encountering a single dwelling, without +finding the least rivulet where we can quench our thirst. More than +that, we shall run the risk of perishing by the robbers who infest the +desert, or of being swallowed up alive by tempests of sand. Reflect +again, seigneur effendi, we would not be the cause of your death." +These words were not without their effect, but, after coming so far, +Vambéry was not easily discouraged. "I know," said he to the pilgrims, +"that this world is an inn where we sojourn for some days, and from +which we soon depart to give place to new travellers. I pity those +restless spirits who, not content with having thought of the present, +embrace in their solicitude a long future. Take me with you, my +friends; I am weary of this kingdom of error, and I long to leave it." + +Perceiving in him so firm a resolve, the chiefs of the caravan +received the pretended Reschid as a travelling companion. A fraternal +embrace ratified this engagement, and the European felt not without +some repugnance the contact of these ragged garments which long use +had impregnated with a thousand offensive odors. + +Following the advice of one of the dervishes, Hadji Bilal, who +entertained a particular friendship for him, the traveller cut his +hair, adopted the Bokhariot costume, and the better to play the part +of a pilgrim, an enemy of all worldly superfluity, he left behind his +bedding, his linen, everything, in {201} short, which in the eyes of +the Tartars had the least appearance of refinement or luxury. Some +days after, he rejoined his companions in the caravansery where the +hadjis had promised to meet him. There Vambéry ascertained, to his +great surprise, that the miserable garments which had disgusted him so +much were the state robes of the dervishes; their travelling dress was +composed of numerous rags, arranged in the most picturesque manner and +fastened at the waist by a fragment of rope. Hadji Bilal, raising his +arms in the air, pronounced the prayer of departure, to which all the +assistants responded by the sacramental _amen_, placing the hand upon +the beard. + +Vambéry quitted Teheran not without sadness and misgiving. In this +city, placed on the frontiers of civilization, he had found devoted +friends; now, in the company of strangers, he was about to face at +once the perils of the desert and those, more to be feared, which +threatened him from the cruelty of the inhabitants of the cities. He +was roused from these reflections by joyous ballads sung by many of +the pilgrims, others related the adventures of their wandering life or +boasted of the charms of their native country, the fertile gardens of +Mergolan and Khokand. Sometimes their patriotic and religious +enthusiasm led them to intone verses from the Koran, in which Vambéry +never failed to join with a zeal which did honor to the strength of +his lungs. He had then the satisfaction of observing the dervishes +look at one another and say, in an undertone, that Hadji Rescind was a +true believer, who, without doubt, thanks to the good examples before +his eyes, would soon walk in the steps of the saints. + +At the end of five days the pilgrims reached the mountain of +Mazendran, the western slope of which extends its base to the Caspian +sea. Here the sterility of the country yields to the freshest, the +richest vegetation; splendid forests, prairies covered with thick +grass, extend themselves everywhere before the charmed eye of the +traveller, and from time to time the murmur of a waterfall delights +his ear. The sight of this smiling country drove away all the sad +presentiments which had possessed the soul of Vambéry; mounted upon a +gently-treading mule, he arrives full of confidence at Karatèpe, where +he is to embark upon the Caspian sea. There an Afghan of high birth, +whom the pretended Reschid had met upon his journey, and who knew the +consideration which he enjoyed at the Ottoman embassy, offered him the +hospitality of his house. The news of the arrival of pilgrims had +collected a great number of visitors; squatted along the walls of the +houses, they fixed upon Vambéry looks of mingled distrust and +curiosity. "He is not a dervish," said some, "you can see that by his +features and complexion." "The hadjis," replied others, "pretend that +he is a near relation of the Turkish ambassador." All then, shaking +their heads with a mysterious air, said in an undertone, "Only Allah +can know what this foreigner is after." During this time, Vambéry +pretended to be plunged in a profound meditation; in which as a +Protestant, he committed a grave imprudence, for the Orientals, liars +and hypocrites themselves, cannot believe in frankness, and always +infer the contrary of whatever is told them. These suspicions, +moreover, had nearly frustrated at the outset the bold designs of the +European. The captain of the Afghan ship, employed in provisioning the +Russian garrison, had consented for a small sum to take all the hadjis +in his ship across the arm of the sea which divides Karatèpe from +Ashourada. But learning the reports which were in circulation +regarding our traveller, he refused to permit him to embark; "his +attachment for the Russians not allowing him," he said, "to facilitate +the secret designs of an emissary of Turkey." In vain Hadji Bilal, +Hadji Salih, and others of the caravan endeavored to change his {202} +resolution. All was useless, and Vambéry was doubting whether he +should not be forced to retrace his steps, when his companions +generously declared that they would not proceed without him. + +Toward evening, the dervishes learned that a Turcoman named Yakaub +proposed from a religious motive, and without desiring any recompense, +to take them in his boat. The motive of this unexpected kindness was +very soon discovered. Yakaub, having drawn Vambéry apart, confessed to +him in an embarrassed tone, which contrasted singularly with his wild +and energetic physiognomy, that he nourished a profound and hopeless +passion for a young girl of his tribe; a Jew, a renowned magician who +resided at Karatèpe, had promised to prepare an infallible talisman if +the unhappy lover were able to procure for him thirty drops of essence +of rose direct from Mecca. "You hadjis," added the Tartar, casting +down his eyes, "never quit the holy places without bringing away some +perfume; and as you are the youngest of the caravan, I hope that you +will comprehend my vexation better than the others, and that you will +help me." The companions of Vambéry had in fact several bottles of the +essence, of which they gave a part to the Turkoman, and this precious +gift threw the son of the desert into a genuine ecstasy. + +The voyagers passed two days on a _kèseboy_ a boat provided with a +mast and two unequal sails, which the Tartars use for the transport of +cargoes. It was almost night when Yakaub cast anchor before Ashourada, +the most southerly of the Russian possessions in Asia. The czar +maintains constantly on this coast steamers charged with repressing +the depredations of the Turkomen, which formerly inspired terror +throughout the province. All natives before approaching the port of +Ashourada must be provided with a regular passport, and must submit to +the inspection of the Russian functionaries. This visit caused Vambéry +some alarm; would not the sight of his features, a little too +European, provoke from the Russian agent an indiscreet exclamation of +surprise? and would not his incognito be betrayed? Happily, on the day +of their arrival Easter was celebrated in the Greek Church, and, on +account of this solemnity, the examination was a mere formality. The +pilgrims continued their voyage, and landed the next day at +Gomushtèpe, a distance of only three leagues from Ashourada. + + + +II. + +The hadjis were received by a chief named Khandjan, to whom they had +letters of recommendation. The noble Turkoman was a man of about forty +years; his fine figure, his dress of an austere simplicity, the long +beard which fell upon his breast, gave him a dignified and imposing +air. He advanced toward his guests, embraced them several times, and +led the way to his tent. The news of the arrival of dervishes had +already spread among the inhabitants; men, women, and children threw +themselves before the pilgrims, disputing with one another the honor +of touching their garments, believing that they thus obtained a share +in the merits of these saintly personages. "These first scenes of +Asiatic life," says Vambéry, "astonished me so much that I was +constantly doubting whether I should first examine the singular +construction of their tents of felt, or admire the beauty of the +women, enveloped in their long silken tunics, or yield to the desire +manifested by the arms and hands extended toward me. Strange +spectacle! Young and old, without distinction of sex or rank, pressed +eagerly round these hadjis covered yet with the holy dust of Mecca. +Fancy my amazement when I saw women of great beauty, and even young +girls, rush through the crowd to embrace me. These demonstrations of +sympathy and respect, however, became fatiguing when we {203} arrived +at the tent of the chief _ishan_ (priest), where our little caravan +assembled. Then began a singular contest. Each one solicited as a +precious boon the right of receiving under his tent the poor +strangers. I had heard of the boasted hospitality of the nomad tribes +of Asia, but I never could have imagined the extent of it. Khandjan +put an end to the dispute by himself distributing among the +inhabitants his coveted guests. He reserved only Hadji Bilal and +myself, who were considered the chiefs of the caravan, and we followed +him to his _ooa_ (tent)." + +A comfortable supper, of boiled fish and curdled milk, awaited the two +pilgrims. The touching kindness with which he had been received, the +comfort by which he was surrounded, filled Vambéry with a joy which +accorded ill with the gravity of his assumed character of dervish. His +friend Hadji Bilal felt bound to advise him upon this subject. "You +have remarked already," said he, "that my companions and I distribute +_fatiha_ (blessings) to every one. You must follow our example. I know +it is not the custom in _Roum_ (Turkey), but the Turkomen expect it +and desire it. You will excite great surprise if, giving yourself out +for a dervish, you do not take completely the character of one. You +know the formula of this blessing; you must, then, put on a serious +face and bestow your benedictions. You can add to them _nefes_ (holy +breathings) when you are called to the sick; but do not forget to +extend at the same time your hand, for every one knows that the +dervishes subsist by the piety of the faithful, and they never leave a +tent without receiving some little present." + +The Hungarian traveller profited so well by the advice of Hadji Bilal +that, five days after his arrival at Gomushtèpe, a crowd of believers +and sick people besieged him from the moment that he rose, soliciting, +one his blessing, another his sacred breathing, a third the talisman +that was to cure him. Thanks to the complaisance and marvellous tact +which characterized him, Vambéry henceforth identified himself +completely with the venerable personage of Hadji Reschid, and never +during a period of two years escaped him the smallest gesture or word +which could possibly betray him. His reputation for sanctity increased +every day, and procured for him numerous offerings, which he received +with a truly Mussulman gravity. This increasing confidence permitted +the European to form with the Turkomen frequent intimacies, of which +he profited to study the social relations of these tribes, to discover +the innumerable ramifications of which they are composed, and to form +an exact idea of the bonds which unite elements in appearance so +heterogeneous and confused. But he was obliged to exercise great +prudence; a dervish, wholly preoccupied with heavenly things, never +ought to ask the smallest question in regard to affairs purely +worldly. Fortunately, the Tartars, so terrible and so impetuous, when +they have completed their forays, pass the remainder of their time in +absolute idleness, and then they amuse themselves with interminable +political and moral discussions. Vambéry, dropping his beads with an +exterior of pious revery, lent an attentive ear to all these +conversations, of which he never lost the slightest detail. + +One thing which surprised him among the Turkomen was to see that if +all are too proud to obey, no one seems ambitious to command. "We are +a people without a head," they say; "and we wish no head. Every one is +king in our country," Yet, notwithstanding the absence of all +restraint, of all authority, these savage robbers, the terror of their +neighbors, live together amicably, and we find among them fewer +robberies and murders, and more morality than among the majority of +the Asiatic people. {204} This is explained by the action of an +all-powerful law, which exercises over the inhabitants of the desert +more empire than religion itself; we speak of the _Deb_, that is to +say, the custom, the traditions. An invisible sovereign, obeyed +everywhere, it sanctions robbery and slavery, and all the +prescriptions of Islam fall to the ground before it. "How," asked +Vambéry one day of a Tartar famous for his robberies and his great +piety, "how can you sell your Sunnite brother, when the Prophet has +said expressly: Every Mussulman is free?" "Bah!" he replied, "the +Koran, this book of God, is more precious than a man, and yet you buy +and sell it; Joseph, the son of Jacob, was a prophet, and yet they +sold him, and was he ever the worse for it?" The influence of Deb +extends throughout central Asia; in converting themselves to the +worship of Mohammed, the nomad tribes have taken only the exterior +form; they adored formerly the sun, the fire, and other natural +phenomena--they personify them to-day under the name of Allah. + +Many ancient and singular customs are found everywhere in central +Asia; marriage is accompanied by characteristic rites. The young girl, +in her rich bridal costume, bravely bestrides a furious courser, whom +she urges to his utmost speed; with one hand she holds the rein, with +the other she presses to her bosom a lamb just killed, which the +bridegroom, mounted also on a fast horse, endeavors to take from her. +All the young people of the tribe take a part in the eager pursuit, +and the sandy desert then becomes the theatre of this fantastic +contest. + +The ceremonies prescribed for funerals are not less singular. When a +member of a Turkoman family dies, the mourners come every day for an +entire year, at the hour when the deceased expired, to utter sobs and +cries, in which the relations are bound to join. This custom seems to +prove that the Tartars, superior in this respect to civilized people, +consecrate to their dead a remembrance more profound and more durable; +but, in fact, one must abate a little of this praise; the tears and +prolonged mourning are only a matter of form, and Vambéry often could +hardly suppress a smile when he saw the head of the family tranquilly +smoking his pipe or enjoying his repast, interrupting himself now and +then to join the noisy lamentations of the choir. It is the same with +the ladies; they cry, they weep in the most lugubrious fashion, +without ceasing to turn the wheel or rock the cradle. But what then? +is not human nature the same everywhere, and do the Turkoman ladies +differ so much from our inconsolable widows, to whom, as La Fontaine +says with good-natured malice, "mourning very soon becomes an +ornament." + +Vambéry, venerated as one of the elect of the prophet, often passed +his evenings among these Tartar families. Then, surrounded by a large +audience, the troubadour, accompanying himself upon the guitar, +chanted the poetry of Koroghi, of Aman Mollah, or more frequency of +Makhdumkuli, the Ossian of the desert, whom his compatriots regard as +a demigod. This holy personage, who had never studied in the colleges +of Bokhara, received the gift of all science by a divine inspiration. +He was one day transported in a dream to Mecca, in presence of the +Prophet and of the first caliphs. Seized with respect and fear at the +sight of this august assembly, he prostrated himself, and, throwing +around him a timid look, perceived Omar, the patron of the Turkomen, +who, with a benevolent air, signed him to approach. He received then +the benediction of the Prophet, a light blow on the forehead, which +awakened him. From this moment a celestial poesy flowed from his lips; +he composed heroic hymns which the Tartars regard to-day as the most +beautiful productions of the human mind. + +{205} + +About this time, a mollah having undertaken a trip to Atabeg and the +Göklen, our traveller seized the occasion to examine the Greek ruins +which perpetuate among these savage people the remembrance of the +conquests of Alexander. He recognized the wall built by the Macedonian +hero to oppose a barrier to the menacing stream of the desert tribes. +The legend of the Turkomen shows how the oriental imagination clothes +the events of history with poetic and religious fiction. Alexander, +they say, was a profoundly religious Mussulman; and as the saints +exercise all power over the invisible world, he commanded the spirits +of darkness, and it was by his order that the genii built the sacred +wall. + +Notwithstanding the generous hospitality of Khandjan, Vambéry began to +get tired of his residence at Gomushtèpe. The continual raids of the +Turkomen peopled their tents with a crowd of Persian slaves, whose +tortures revolted any one who had a spark of humanity. These unhappy +beings, surprised for the most part in a nocturnal attack, were +dragged from their families, and loaded with heavy chains which +betrayed the slightest movement and hindered every attempt at flight. +Khandjan himself possessed two young Iranians of eighteen and twenty +years, and, singularly enough, this man, so good and so hospitable, +overwhelmed these young men with injuries and insults on the slightest +pretext. Our traveller could not, without betraying himself, manifest +the least compassion for these poor slaves. Notwithstanding, the pity +which they sometimes surprised in his looks induced them to address +him. They begged him to write to their relatives, imploring them to +sell cattle, gardens, and dwellings in order to release them from this +frightful captivity; for the Turkomen often maltreat their prisoners +merely in the hope of obtaining a great ransom for them. + +Vambéry then learned with joy that the khan of Khiva, for whom the +physicians had prescribed the use of buffalo's milk, had sent his +chief of caravans to Gomushtèpe to buy two pair of these animals, in +order to have them acclimated in his own country. To join an officer +who knew the invisible paths of the desert better than the most +experienced guides, was an unexpected good fortune for the pilgrims, +and Vambéry urged Hadji Bilal to improve so good an opportunity; but +Hadji Bilal was surprised at the impatience of his friend, and +remarked that it was extremely childish. "It is of no use to be in a +hurry," said he; "you will remain on the banks of the Gorghen until +destiny shall decree that you quench your thirst at another river, and +it is impossible to tell when the will of Allah will be manifested." +This answer was not particularly satisfactory to Vambéry; but he could +not attempt the desert alone; he was forced then to submit to the +oriental slowness of his companions. + +The little caravan was to return to Etrek, the capital of a tribe of +warriors, to wait until the chief of caravans should join it. One of +the most renowned chiefs of this tribe came just at this time to +Gomushtèpe. His name was Kulkhan-_le-Pir_ (chief). His sombre and wild +physiognomy, little calculated to inspire confidence, never brightened +at the sight of the pious pilgrims; nevertheless, out of regard for +Khandjan, he consented to take the hadjis under his protection, +recommending to them to be ready to start with him in two days, for he +awaited in order to return to his tent at Etrek only the arrival of +his son, who had gone on a raid. Kulkhan spoke of this expedition with +the paternal pride which makes the heart of a European beat in +learning that his son has covered himself with glory on the field of +battle. Some hours later, the young man, followed by seven Turkomen, +appeared on the banks of the Gorghen. A great crowd had gathered, and +admiration was painted upon every face when the proud cavaliers threw +themselves with their {206} prey, ten magnificent horses, into the +midst of the river, which they crossed swimming. They landed +immediately, and even Vambéry, in spite of the contempt with which +these acts of pillage inspired him, could not take his eyes from these +bold warriors, who, in their short riding-habit, the chest covered +with their abundant curling hair, gaily laid down their arms. + +About noon the next day the traveller quitted Gomushtèpe, and was +escorted for a considerable distance by Khandjan, who wished to fulfil +punctually all the duties of hospitality. It was not without heartfelt +regret that he parted from this devoted host, from whom he had +received so many marks of interest. The pilgrims travelled toward the +north-east; their road, which led them from the coast, was bordered by +many mounds raised by the Turkomen in memory of their illustrious +dead. When a warrior dies, every man of his tribe is bound to throw at +least seven shovelsful of earth upon his grave. So these mausoleums +often appear like little hills. This custom must be very ancient among +the Asiatics; the Huns brought it into Europe, and we find traces of +it to-day in Hungary. Half a league from Gomushtèpe the little caravan +reached magnificent prairies, the herbage of which, knee-high, exhaled +a delicious fragrance. But these blessings of nature are thrown away +upon the Turkomen, who, wholly occupied in robbery and pillage, never +dream of enriching themselves by peaceful, pastoral occupations. +"Alas!" thought our European, "what charming villages might shelter +themselves in this fertile and beautiful country. When will the busy +hum of life replace the silence of death which broods over these +regions?" + +Approaching Etrek, the landscape suddenly changes. This lonely verdure +is exchanged for the salt lands of the desert, whose rank odor and +repulsive appearance seem to warn the traveller of the sufferings +which await him in these immense solitudes. Little by little Vambéry +felt the ground become soft under foot; his camel slipped, buried +himself at each step, and gave such evident signs of intending to +throw him in the mud, that he thought it prudent to dismount without +waiting for a more pressing invitation. After tramping an hour and a +half in the mire the pilgrims reached Kara Sengher (black wall), where +rose the tent of their host, Kulkhan-le-Pir. The district of Etrek is, +to the populations of Mazendran and Taberistan, a by-word of terror +and malediction. "May you be carried to Etrek," is the most terrible +imprecation which fury can extort from a Persian. One cannot pass +before the tents of the Turkomen of Etrek without seeing the unhappy +Iranian slaves, wasted by fatigue and privations, and bent under the +weight of their chains. But the nomad tribes of Tartary offer a +singular mixture of vice and virtue, of justice and lawlessness, of +benevolence and cruelty. Vambéry, in his character of dervish, made +frequent visits among the Tartars. He always returned loaded with +presents and penetrated with gratitude for their charitable +hospitality. To this sentiment succeeded a profound horror at the +barbarous treatment inflicted upon their slaves. At Gomushtèpe such a +spectacle had already revolted him; and yet this city, compared to +Etrek, might be considered the _Ultima Thule_ of humanity and +civilization. + +One day, returning to his dwelling, Vambéry met one of the slaves of +Kulkhan, who, in a piteous tone, begged him to give him to drink. This +unfortunate being had labored ever since morning in a field of melons, +exposed to the heat of a burning sun, without any other food than salt +fish, and without a drop of water to quench his thirst. The sight of +this poor sufferer, and of the cheers which ran down over his thick +black beard, made Vambéry forget the danger {207} to which an +imprudent compassion might expose himself. He gave his bottle to the +slave, who drank eagerly and fled, not without having passionately +thanked his benefactor. + +Another time the European and Hadji Bilal called on a rich Tartar, +who, learning that Vambéry was a disciple of the Grand Turk, cried, +with great glee, "I will show you a spectacle which will delight you; +we know how well the Russians and the Turks agree, and I will show you +one o£ your enemies in chains." He then called a poor Muscovite slave, +whose pallid features and expression of profound sadness touched +Vambéry to the heart. "Go and kiss the feet of this effendi," said the +Turkoman to the prisoner. The poor fellow was about to obey, but our +traveller stopped him by a gesture, saying that he had that morning +begun a great purification and that he did not wish to be defiled by +the touch of an infidel. + +At last a messenger came to inform the pilgrims that the chief of +caravans was about to leave, and that he would meet them at noon the +next day on the shore opposite Etrek. The hadjis therefore began their +journey, escorted by Kulkhan-le-Pir, who, thanks to the introduction +of Kulkhan, neglected nothing for the security of his guests. Now, as +these districts are infested by brigands and very dangerous for +caravans, the protection of this _graybeard_ was very useful to the +travellers. Kulkhan was, in fact, the spiritual guide and grand +high-priest of these fierce robbers; he united to a character +naturally ferocious a consummate hypocrisy which made him a curious +type of the desert chiefs. One ought to have heard this renowned +bandit, who had ruined so many families, explaining to his assembled +disciples the rites prescribed for purifications, and telling them how +a good Mussulman ought to cut his moustache, etc. A sort of pious +ecstasy, a perfect serenity, the fruit of a good conscience, was +visible meanwhile upon the countenances of these men, as if they +already enjoyed a foretaste of the delight of Mohammed's paradise. + +The chief of caravans now joined the pilgrims. Vambéry desired very +much to win the good graces of so important a man, and was, therefore, +much alarmed when he saw that this dignitary, who had received the +other pilgrims with marks of great respect, treated him with great +coldness. Hadji Bilal eagerly undertook the defence of his friend. +"All this," he cried angrily, "is no doubt the work of that miserable +Mehemmed, who, even while we were in Etrek, tried to make us believe +that our Hadji Reschid, so holy and so learned in the Koran, was a +European in disguise! The Lord, pardon my sins!" This was the favorite +exclamation of the good dervish in his moments of greatest agitation. +"Be patient," he added, addressing his companion, "once arrived at +Khiva, I will set this opium-eater right." Mehemmed was an Afghan +merchant, born at Kandahar, who had frequently met Europeans. He +thought he discovered in Vambéry a secret agent travelling, no doubt, +with great treasure, and he hoped, by frightening him, to extort from +him considerable sums; but the European was too cunning to be taken in +this trap, and he found a secure protection in his reputation for +sanctity and in the generous friendship of Hadji Bilal. + +This incident had no immediate consequences. The chief of caravans, +who was now chief of the united caravans, ordered each pilgrim +carefully to fill his bottle, for they would travel now many days +without meeting any spring. Vambéry followed the example of his +companions, but with a negligent air which Hadji Salih thought himself +bound to reprove. "You do not know yet," said he, "that in the desert +each drop of water becomes a drop of life. The thirsty traveller +watches over his bottle as a miser over his treasure; it is as +precious to him as his eye-sight." + +They travelled the whole day over a sandy soil, at times slightly +undulating, but where it was impossible to discover the least trace of +a path. The sun alone indicated their course, and during the night the +_kervanbashi_ (chief of caravans) guided himself by the polar star, +called by the Turkomen the iron pin, because it is motionless. +Gradually the sand gave place to a hard and flinty soil, on which +through the silent night resounded the foot-fall of the camels. At +day-break the caravan stopped to take some hours of rest, and +presently Vambéry perceived the kervanbashi engaged eagerly in +conversation with Hadji Bilal and Hadji Salih, the subject of which +their looks, constantly directed toward him, sufficiently indicated. +He pretended not to observe it, and occupied himself with renewed +earnestness in turning over the pages of the Koran. Some moments after +his friends came to him, and said "his foreign features excited the +distrust of the kervanbashi, for this man had already incurred the +anger of the king because he had some years before conducted to Khiva +a European, whom this single journey had enabled to put down on paper +with diabolical art all the peculiarities of the country, and he never +should be able to save his head if he committed another such blunder. +It is with great difficulty," added the dervishes, "that we have +persuaded him to take you with us, and he has made it a condition, +first, that you shall consent to be searched, and secondly, that you +will swear, by the tomb of the Prophet, that you will not carry about +you secretly a _wooden pen_ as these detestable Europeans always do." + +These words, we may imagine, were not very agreeable to Vambéry, but +he had too much self-control to permit his agitation to be seen. +Pretending to be very angry, he turned toward Hadji Salih, and, loud +enough to be heard by the chief of caravans, replied, "Hadji, you have +seen me in Teheran, and you know who I am; say to the kervanbashi that +an honest man ought not to listen to the gossip of an infidel." This +pretended indignation produced the desired effect; no one afterward +expressed a doubt in regard to the pilgrim. Vambéry could not resolve +to keep his promise, and, whatever it might have cost him to deceive +his friends, he continued to make in secret some rapid notes. "Let one +imagine," says he, to excuse himself, "the latter disappointment of a +traveller who arriving at last, after long efforts and great peril, +before a spring for which he has eagerly sighed, finds himself +forbidden to moisten his parched lips." + +The caravan advanced slowly through the desert; in compassion for the +camels, who suffered much from the sand, upon which they could hardly +walk, the pilgrims dismounted when the road became very bad. These +forced marches were a severe trial to Vambéry on account of his +lameness; but he endeavored to forget, his fatigue and to take a part +in the noisy conversations of his companions. The nephew of the +kervanbashi, a Turkoman of Khiva, entertained a particular affection +for him; full of respect for his character as dervish, and won by the +benevolence of his looks, he took great pleasure in talking to him of +his _tent_, the only manner in which the prescriptions of the Prophet +permitted him to speak of the young wife whom he had left at home. +Separated for a whole year from the object of his tenderness, Khali +Mallah appealed to the science of the pretended hadji to pierce the +veil which absence had placed between himself and his family. Vambéry +gravely took the Koran, pronounced some cabalistic words, closed his +eyes, and opened the book precisely at a passage in which women are +spoken of. He interpreted the sacred text so as to draw from it an +oracle sufficiently vague, at which the young Tartar was transported +with joy. + +On the 27th of May the travellers reached the table-lands of +Korentaghi, a chain of mountains surrounded by vast valleys, to the +west of which extend ruins probably of Greek origin. {209} The nomads +who inhabit this district came in crowds to visit the caravan, and for +some hours the encampment had the appearance of a bazaar. The +merchants and drovers who accompanied the kervanbashi concluded +important bargains with the natives, mostly on credit; but Vambéry was +surprised to see the debtor, instead of giving the note as a guarantee +to the creditor, tranquilly put it in his own pocket. Our European +could not refrain from speaking of this, and he received from one of +the merchants this answer of a patriarchal simplicity: "What should I +do with the paper? it would not do me any good; but the debtor +requires it in order to remind him of the amount of the debt and of +the time when it is to be paid." + +Two days after a dark blue cloud appeared in the horizon toward the +north; this was Petit-Balkan, the elevation, the picturesque +landscapes, and the rich mineral resources of which are celebrated in +all Turkoman poetry. The travellers passed along the chain of +mountains, perceiving here and there green and fertile prairies, and +yet the profound solitude of these beautiful valleys filled the soul +with a vague sadness. Beyond commences the Great Desert, where the +traveller marches for many weeks without finding a drop of water to +quench his thirst, or a tree to shelter him from the rays of the sun. +In winter the cold is intense, in summer the heat; but the two seasons +present an equal danger, and frequent tempests swallow up whole +caravans under drifts of snow or whirlwinds of sand. + +"In proportion," says Vambéry, "as the outlines of Balkan disappear +from the horizon, the limitless desert shows itself, terrible and +majestic. I had often thought that imagination and enthusiasm enter +largely into the profound impression produced by the sight of these +immense solitudes. I deceived myself. In my own beloved country I have +often seen vast plains of sand; in Persia I have crossed the salt +desert; but how different were my feelings to-day! It is not +imagination, it is nature herself who lights the sacred torch of +inspiration. The interminable hills of sand, the utter absence of +life, the frightful calm of death, the purple tints of the sun at his +rising and setting, all warn us that we are in the Great Desert, all +fill our souls with an inexpressible emotion." + +After travelling many days, the provision of water beginning to be +exhausted, Vambéry knew for the first time the horrible tortures of +thirst. "Alas!" he thought, "saving and blessed water, the most +precious of all the elements, how little have I known your value! what +would I not give at this moment for a few drops of your divine +substance!" The unfortunate traveller had lost his appetite, he +experienced an excessive prostration, a devouring fire consumed his +veins, he sank upon the ground in a state of complete exhaustion. +Suddenly he heard resound the magic words, "Water! water!" He looked +up and saw the kervanbashi distribute to each of his companions two +glasses of the precious liquid. The good Turkoman had the habit +whenever he crossed the desert of hiding a certain quantity of water, +which he distributed to the members of his caravan when their +sufferings became intolerable. This unexpected succor revived the +strength of Vambéry, and he acknowledged the justice of the Tartar +proverb: "The drop of water given in the desert to the traveller dying +of thirst, effaces a hundred, years of sin." + +The next day numerous tracks of gazelles and wild asses announced to +the travellers that springs were to be found in the neighborhood; +thither they hastened to fill their bottles, and, relieved now from +all anxiety lest water should fail them before their arrival at Khiva, +they gave themselves up to transports of joyful enthusiasm. Toward +evening they reached the table-land of Kaflankir, an island {210} of +verdure in the midst of a sea of sand. Its fertile soil, covered with +luxuriant vegetation, gives asylum to a great number of animals; two +deep trenches surround this oasis, which the Turkomen say are ancient +branches of the Oxus. The caravan, instead of going directly to Khiva, +made a circuit to avoid a tribe of marauders; the first of June it +arrived within sight of the great Tartar city, which, with its domes, +its minarets, its smiling gardens, the luxuriant vegetation which +surrounds it, appeared to the travellers, worn by the monotony of the +desert, an epitome of the delights of nature and of civilization. + + + +III. + +On entering the city their admiration was somewhat lessened. Khiva is +composed of three or four thousand houses, constructed of earth, +scattered about in all directions and surrounded by a wall, also of +clay, ten feet high. But at every step the pious Khivites offered them +bread and dried fruits, begging their blessing. For a long time Khiva +had not received within its walls so great a number of hadjis; every +face expressed astonishment and admiration, and on all sides resounded +acclamations of welcome. Entering into the bazaar, Hadji Bilal intoned +a sacred canticle, in which his companions joined; the voice of +Vambéry predominated; and his emotion was very great when he saw the +surrounding crowd rush toward him, to kiss his hands, his feet covered +with dust, and even the rags which composed his dress. + +According to the usage of the country, the travellers returned +immediately to the caravan which served as custom-house. The principal +_mehrum_ (royal chamberlain) fulfilled the functions of director; +hardly had he addressed the usual questions to the kervanbashi when +the miserable Afghan before spoken of, furious at having been thwarted +in his avaricious designs, advancing, cried in a tone of raillery: "We +have brought to Khiva three interesting quadrupeds, and a biped who is +not less so." The first part of the expression, of course, alluded to +the buffaloes which had been brought from Gomushtèpe; the second was +pointed at Vambéry. Instantly all eyes were fixed upon him, and he +could distinguish among the murmurs of the crowd the words: "Spy, +European, Russian." Imagine his agitation! The khan of Khiva, a cruel +fanatic, had the reputation of reducing to slavery or destroying by +horrible tortures all suspected strangers. In this emergency Vambéry +was not intimidated; often he had considered the possible consequences +of his bold enterprise, and looked death in the face. + +The mehrum, lifting his brows, considered the foreign countenance of +the unknown, and rudely ordered him to approach. Vambéry was about to +reply when Hadji Bilal, who did not know what was going on, eagerly +entered to introduce his friend to the Khivite officer; the exterior +of the Turkoman dervish inspired so much confidence that suspicions +were instantly changed into respectful excuses. + +This peril avoided, Vambéry could not deny that his European features +raised in his way every moment new difficulties; he must have a +powerful protector always ready to defend him. He presently remembered +that an important man, named Shukrullah Bay, who had been for ten +years ambassador to the sultan from the khan of Khiva, must know +Constantinople and every official of that city. Vambéry thought he +should find in this dignitary the support which he desired, and he +repaired the same day to the _medusse_ (college) of Mohammed Emin +Khan, where he resided. Informed that an effendi, recently arrived +from Stamboul, wished to see him, the ex-minister immediately +appeared. His surprise, already very great, was not diminished when he +saw enter a mendicant covered with {211} rags and frightfully +disfigured; but after exchanging a few words with his strange visitor, +his distrust vanished; he addressed him question after question +regarding his friends whom he had left at Constantinople, and, from +the mere pleasure of hearing him speak of them, he forgot to raise a +doubt regarding the supposed quality of the traveller. "In the name of +God, my dear effendi," said he at last, "how could you quit such a +paradise as Stamboul to come into our frightful country?" The +pretended Reschid sighed deeply. "Ah, pir!" he replied, putting a hand +upon his eyes in sign of obedience. Shukrullah was too good a +Mussulman not to understand these words; he was persuaded that his +guest belonged to some order of dervishes, and had been charged by his +_pir_ (spiritual chief) with some mission which a disciple was bound +to accomplish even at the peril of his life. Without asking any +farther explanations, he merely inquired the name of the order to +which Vambéry was attached. Vambéry mentioned the Nakish bendi, +[Footnote 37] implying that Bokhara was the end of his pilgrimage, and +he retired, leaving the Khivite minister marvelling at his learning, +his wit, his sanctity, and his extensive acquaintance. + + [Footnote 37: A celebrated order which originated in Bokhara, where + its principal establishment still exists.] + +The khan, hearing of the arrival of a Turk, the first who had ever +come from Constantinople to Khiva, sent in all haste a _yasoul_ +(officer of the court) to give the European a small present and inform +him that the _hazret_ (sovereign) would give him audience the same +evening, for he greatly desired to receive the blessing of a dervish +born in the holy land. Our voyager, therefore, accompanied by +Shukrullah Bay, who made it a point to present him, repaired to the +palace of the formidable monarch. We will leave Vambéry to relate +himself this curious interview: + +"It was the hour of public audience, and the principal entrance and +halls of the palace were filled with petitioners of every rank, sex, +and age. The crowd respectfully made way at our approach, and my ear +was agreeably tickled when I heard the women say to each other: 'See +the holy dervish from Constantinople; he comes to bless our khan, and +may Allah hear his prayer!' Shukrullah Bay had taken care to make it +known that I was very intimate with the highest dignitaries in +Stamboul, and that nothing should be omitted to render my reception +most solemn. After waiting a few moments, two yasouls came to take me +by the arm, and, with the most profound demonstrations of respect, +conducted me in the presence of Seid Mehemmed Khan. + +"The prince was seated upon a sort of platform, his left arm resting +upon a velvet cushion, his right hand holding a golden sceptre. +According to the prescribed ceremonial, I raised my two hands, a +gesture which was immediately imitated by the khan and others present; +then I recited a verse from the Koran, followed by a prayer much used +beginning with the words: '_Allahuma Rabbina_.' I concluded with an +_amen_, which I pronounced with a resounding voice, holding my beard +with both hands. '_Kaboul bolgay!_' (may thy prayer be heard), +responded in unison all the assistants. Then I approached the +sovereign and exchanged with him the _mousafeha_, [Footnote 38] after +which I retired a few steps. The khan addressed me several questions +regarding the object of my journey, and my impressions in crossing the +Great Desert. + + [Footnote 38: Salute prescribed by the Koran, during which the right + and left hand of each party are placed flatly one upon the other. ] + +"'My sufferings have been great,' I replied, 'but my reward is greater +yet, since I am permitted to behold the splendor of your glorious +majesty. I return thanks to Allah for this favor, and I see in it a +good omen for the rest of my pilgrimage.' + +{212} + +"The king, evidently flattered, asked how long I proposed to remain at +Khiva, and if I were provided with the necessary funds for pursuing my +journey. + +"'My intention,' I replied, 'is to visit before my departure the tombs +of the saints who repose in the vicinity of Khiva. As to the means of +pursuing my journey, I give myself no anxiety. We dervishes occupy +ourselves very little with such trifles. The sacred breathing which I +have received from the chief of my order suffices, moreover, to +sustain me four or five days without any other nourishment; therefore +the only prayer which I address to heaven is that your majesty may +live a hundred and twenty years.' + +"My words had gained the good graces of the khan; he offered me twenty +ducats, and promised to make me a present of an ass. I declined the +first of these presents, because poverty is the necessary attribute of +a dervish; but I accepted the animal with gratitude, not without +piously remarking that the precept of the Prophet requires that a +white ass should be used for pilgrimages. The king assured me that I +should have one of this color, and he put an end to the interview, +begging me to accept at least during my short residence in his capital +two _tenghe_ (1 franc 50 centimes) a day for my maintenance. + +"I retired joyfully, receiving at every step the respectful homage of +the crowd, and regained my own dwelling. Once alone, I uttered a sigh +of satisfaction, thinking of the danger which I had incurred, and the +happy manner in which I had escaped it. This dissolute khan, savage +and brutal tyrant, had treated me with unexampled kindness; I was now +free from all fear, and at liberty to go where I liked. During the +entire evening, the audience of the khan was present to my mind; I saw +again the Asiatic despot, with his pallid countenance, his eyes deeply +sunk in the orbits, his beard sprinkled with white, his white lips and +trembling voice. So, I thought, Providence has permitted that +fanaticism itself should serve as a bit to this suspicious and cruel +tyrant." + +It was soon understood in Khiva that the dervish of Constantinople was +in great favor with the khan, therefore the notables of the city +delayed not to overwhelm him with visits and invitations; the +_oulemas_ especially, anxious to enlighten themselves with his light, +asked him a thousand questions regarding various religious +observances. Vambéry, repressing his impatience, was obliged to spend +whole hours instructing these fervent disciples on the manner of +washing the feet, the hands, the face; explaining to them how, not to +violate any precept, the true believers ought to sit down, to rise, to +walk, sleep, etc. The pretended pilgrim, who was supposed to be a +native of Stamboul, venerated seat of religion, passed for an +infallible oracle, for the sultan of Constantinople and the grandees +of his court are regarded at Khiva as the most accomplished observers +of the law. They there represent the Turkish emperor as _coiffé_ in a +turban at least fifty or sixty yards long, wrapped in a long trailing +robe, and wearing a beard which falls to the girdle. To inform the +Khivites that this prince dresses like a European, and has his clothes +cut by Dusautoy, would only excite their pious indignation; any one +who would attempt to disabuse them on these points would pass for an +impostor, and would only risk his own life. Vambéry was obliged to +answer the most ridiculous questions: one wished to know if in the +whole world there was any city to be compared to Khiva; another, if +the meals of the grand sultan were sent to him every day from Mecca, +and if it only took one minute for them to come from the Kaaba to the +palace at Constantinople. What would these pious enthusiasts say if +they could know with what honor _Chateau-Lafitte and Chateau-Margeaux_ +figure upon the table of the actual successor of the Prophet? + +{213} + +The convent which gave asylum to the pilgrims served also as a public +square; it contained a mosque, the court of which, ornamented with a +piece of water surrounded with beautiful trees, was the favorite +lounge of all the idle people in town. The women came there to fill +the heavy jugs which they afterward carried to their dwellings. More +than one of these recalled to the European the daughters of his dear +Hungary; he took great pleasure in watching them, and never refused +them his blessing, his powder of life, or even his sacred breathing, +which had the power of curing all infirmities. On these occasions, the +sick person squatted upon the threshold of the door, the pretended +dervish, moving his lips as if in prayer, extended a hand over the +patient, then he breathed three times upon her and uttered a profound +sigh. Very often the innocent creatures fancied that they had +experienced immediate relief, so great is the power of the +imagination! + +During the time that Vambéry was at Khiva, a fair had assembled there +from twenty leagues round all the rich natives. Most of these came to +the markets not so much to buy and sell as to gratify that love of +display so inveterate among the Orientals; their purchases were often +limited to a few needles or similar trifles; but it was an excellent +occasion to parade their beautiful horses, to display their richest +clothes and their finest weapons. Khiva, moreover, is the centre of an +active commerce; beside the fruits, which enjoy great renown, and are +exported to Persia, Turkey, Russia, and China, the stalls of the fair +contain excellent manufactured articles. Beside the _urgendi +tchapani_, a kind of dressing robe made of woollen or silken stuffs of +two colors, are displayed the linens of Tash-hauz, the bronzes of +Khiva, muslins, calicoes, cloth, sugar, iron sent by Russia to be +exchanged for cotton, silk, and furs, which the caravans deliver in +the spring at the markets of Orenbourg, and in the autumn at those of +Astrakan. The transactions with Bokhara are equally important: they +export thither robes and linens, and receive in exchange tea, spices, +paper, and fancy articles. + +Vambéry, divided between the friendship of Hadji Bilal and his daily +increasing intimacy with Shukrullah Bay, led a very agreeable life at +Khiva. Unhappily this calm was troubled by the secret intrigues of the +mehter (minister of the interior), who was a personal enemy of the +Khivite ambassador. He persuaded the khan that our traveller was a +secret agent of the sultan of Bokhara, and Seid Mehemmed resolved to +have a second interview with the would-be dervish, and submit him to a +strict examination. Vambéry, exhausted by the extreme heat, was taking +a siesta in his cell when he was warned by a messenger to report +himself to the sovereign. Surprised at this unexpected order, he +departed with some anxiety. In order to reach the palace he was +obliged to cross the grand square, where were assembled all the +prisoners taken in a recent war against the neighboring tribe of the +Tchandors, and the sight of these unfortunate beings impressed him +most painfully. The khan in company with the mehter awaited his +arrival; he overwhelmed him with artful questions, and said that, +knowing how thoroughly versed he was in the worldly sciences, he +should like very much to see him write some lines after the manner of +Stamboul. The necessary materials having been brought, Vambéry wrote +the following epistle, when, under pompous flowers of rhetoric, he +slipped in a bit of raillery pointed at the mehter, who was extremely +vain of his own beautiful writing: + +{214} + + "Most majestic, powerful, terrible, and formidable monarch and + sovereign: + + "Inundated with the royal favor, the poorest and most humble of your + servants has, until this day, consecrated little time to the study + of penmanship, for he remembers the Arab proverb: 'Those who have a + beautiful handwriting have ordinarily very little wit.' But he knows + also the Persian adage: 'Every defect which pleases a king becomes a + virtue.' This is why he ventures respectfully to present these + lines." + +The khan, charmed with the pompous eloquence of our traveller, made +him sit beside him, offered him tea and bread, and had with him a long +political conversation, the subject of which had been agreed upon +beforehand. In his quality of dervish, the adroit European maintained +an austere silence. Seid Mehemmed drew from him with great difficulty +some sententious phrases, which offered not the slightest pretext to +the malicious designs of the mehter. + +On leaving the royal audience, a yasoul conducted Vambéry to the +treasurer to receive his daily allowance. He was obliged to cross a +vast court, where a horrible spectacle awaited him. Three hundred +Tchandors, covered with rags and wasted by hunger till they looked +like living skeletons, were expecting the sentence which was to decide +their fate. The younger ones, chained one to another by iron collars, +were to be sold as slaves or given as presents to the favorites of the +king. More cruel punishments were reserved for those whose age caused +them to be considered as chiefs. While some of them were conducted to +the block upon which already many heads had fallen, eight of these +unhappy old men were thrown upon the ground while the executioner tore +out their eyes. It is impossible to enter upon the frightful details +of these barbarous punishments. Arriving at the office of the +treasurer, Vambéry found him singularly occupied in sorting silken +vestments of dazzling colors, covered with large golden embroidery. +These were the _khilat_, or robes of honor, which were to be sent to +the camp to recompense the services of the warriors; they were +designated as robes of four, twelve, twenty, or forty heads. This +singular mode of distinguishing them, which the designs upon the +tissue in no way explained, having excited the curiosity of Vambéry, +he inquired the reason. "What!" was the reply, "have you never seen +similar ones in Turkey? In that case, come to-morrow to assist at the +distribution of these glorious emblems. The most beautiful of these +vestments are intended for those soldiers who have brought forty +enemies' heads, the most simple for those who have furnished only +four." In spite of the horror which this custom inspired, the European +could not without exciting suspicion refuse the invitation thus +extended to him. Accordingly, the next morning he saw arrive in the +principal square of Khiva a hundred cavaliers covered with dust; each +one of them led at least one prisoner fastened to the pommel of the +saddle, or to the tail of his horse; women and children bound in the +same manner making a part of the booty. Beside, all the soldiers +carried behind them large bags filled with heads cut off from the +vanquished. They delivered the captives to the officer in charge, and +then emptied their bags, rolling out the contents upon the ground with +as much indifference as if they had been potatoes. These noble +warriors received in exchange an attestation of their great exploits, +and this billet would give them a right after a few days to a +pecuniary recompense. + +These barbarous customs are not peculiar to Khiva; they are found in +all central Asia. Tradition, law, and religion agree in sanctioning +them. During the first years of his reign, the khan of Khiva, wishing +to display his zeal for the Mussulman faith, proceeded with the utmost +rigor not only against the heretic Tchandors, but also against his own +subjects who were found guilty of the least infraction of the +commandments of the Prophet. The oulemas endeavored to moderate the +too ardent piety of the king; but, notwithstanding their intervention, +not a day passes without {215} some person admitted to audience of the +khan being dragged from the palace, after hearing the words, +equivalent to his death-warrant: "_Alib barin!_" (take him away). + +Notwithstanding the cruelties by which Khiva is disgraced, it was in +this city that Vambéry passed, under the costume of a dervish, the +most agreeable days of his journey. Whenever he appeared in public +places he was surrounded by a crowd of the faithful, who heaped +presents upon him. Thus, though he never accepted considerable sums, +and though he shared the offerings of the pious believers with his +brethren the hadjis, his situation was much improved; he was provided +with a well-lined purse, and a vigorous ass; in short, he was +perfectly equipped for his journey. His companions were very anxious +to arrive at Bokhara, fearing that the heat might render it +impracticable to cross the desert, and they urged Vambéry to terminate +his preparations for departure. Before quitting Khiva our European +wished to bid adieu to the excellent protector to whose hospitable +reception he owed so much. + +"I was deeply moved," he says, "to hear the arguments which the good +Shukrullah Bay employed to dissuade me from my enterprise. He painted +Bokhara under the most gloomy colors, the distrustful and hypocritical +emir, hostile to all strangers, and who had even treacherously put to +death a Turk sent to him by Reschid Pacha. The anxiety of this worthy +old man, so convinced at first of the reality of my sacred character, +surprised me extremely. I began to think that he had penetrated the +secret of my disguise, and perhaps divined who I was. Accustomed to +European ideas, Shukrullah Bay understood our ardor for scientific +researches, for in his youth he had passed many years in St. +Petersburg, and often also, during his residence in Constantinople, he +had formed affectionate intimacies with Europeans. Was it on this +account that he had manifested so warm a friendship for me? In parting +from him I saw a tear glisten in his eye; who can tell what sentiment +caused it to flow?" + +Vambéry gave the khan a last benediction. The prince recommended to +him on his return from Samarcande to pass through his capital, for he +wished to send with the pilgrim a representative, charged to receive +at Constantinople the investiture which the masters of Khiva wish to +obtain from every new sultan. This was by no means the plan of our +traveller. "_Kismet_," he replied, with his habitual presence of mind; +a word altogether in the spirit of his character, and which signifies +that one commits a grave sin when one counts upon the future. + +------ + +{216} + +From Aubrey De Vere's May Carols. + +MATER DIVINAE GRATIAE. + + + The gifts a mother showers each day + Upon her softly-clamorous brood: + The gifts they value but for play,-- + The graver gifts of clothes and food,-- + + Whence come they but from him who sows + With harder hand, and reaps, the soil; + The merit of his laboring brows, + The guerdon of his manly toil? + + From him the grace: through her it stands + Adjusted, meted, and applied; + And ever, passing through her hands, + Enriched it seems, and beautified. + + Love's mirror doubles love's caress: + Love's echo to love's voice is true:-- + Their sire the children love not less + Because they clasp a mother too. + +------ + + As children when, with heavy tread, + Men sad of face, unseen before, + Have borne away their mother dead-- + So stand the nations thine no more. + + From room to room those children roam, + Heart-stricken by the unwonted black: + Their house no longer seems their home: + They search; yet know not what they lack. + + Years pass: self-will and passion strike + Their roots more deeply day by day; + Old servants weep; and "how unlike" + Is all the tender neighbors say. + + And yet at moments, like a dream, + A mother's image o'er them flits: + Like hers their eyes a moment beam; + The voice grows soft; the brow unknits. + + Such, Mary, are the realms once thine, + That know no more thy golden reign. + Bold forth from heaven thy Babe divine! + O make thine orphans thine again! + +------ + +{217} + + +From The Month + + +PAMPHLETS ON THE EIRENICON. + + +The appearance of a work such as the "Eirenicon," from the pen of one +in so conspicuous a position as Dr. Pusey, was sure to attract general +attention, and to call forth a great number of comments and answers +more or less favorable to it or severe upon it. It gives an occasion +for, and indeed invites, the frankest discussion of a very wide range +of most important questions; and in doing so it has rendered a great +service to the cause of truth. Many of these questions are of that +kind which those whom the "Eirenicon" itself may be supposed more +particularly to represent have been in the habit of avoiding, at all +events in public, although their own ecclesiastical position depended +entirely upon them. It is a very great gain that these should now be +opened for discussion, at the invitation of one who has long passed as +a leader among Anglicans. Moreover, a book which handles so many +subjects and contains so many assertions has naturally raised +questions as to itself which require consideration. It is a +comparatively easy matter to look on it as a simple overture for +peace, or to speculate on the possibility of that "union by means of +explanations" which Dr. Pusey tells us is his dearest wish. Even here +we are directly met by the necessity of further investigations. Dr. +Pusey puts a certain face on the Thirty-nine Articles, and on Catholic +doctrines and statements with regard to the questions to which those +Articles refer. Is he right in his representation either of the +definitions of his own communion or of the support which those +definitions may receive from authorities external to it? Is it true +that the "Catholic" interpretation is the legitimate sense of the +Articles? Is it true that that interpretation is supported by Roman +and Greek authorities? Is there no statement, for instance, in the +Council of Trent about justification to which any in the Anglican +communion can object? It must be quite obvious that a great number of +sanguine assertions such as these require examination in detail; and +surely no one can complain if they are not admitted on Dr. Pusey's +word. Then again, unfortunately, he was not content with painting his +own communion in his own colors; he must needs give a description of +the Catholic system also. He has told us--and we are both willing and +bound to believe him--that he has not drawn this sketch in a hostile +spirit; perhaps he will some day acknowledge--which is much more to +the point--that he has drawn it in great and lamentable ignorance, the +consciousness of which ought to have deterred him from attempting it. +Surely there are some enterprises which are usually undertaken by none +but the dullest or the most presumptuous of men. Such an enterprise is +that of giving an account of a practical system which influences and +forms the hearts and minds of thousands of our fellow-creatures, when +we have ourselves lived all our days as entire strangers to it. If it +be something simply in the natural order, such as the polity or the +customs of a foreign nation, we do not feel so much surprise at the +blunders made by the {218} writer who undertakes to describe them, as +at his temerity in making the attempt. This is, of coarse, enhanced +greatly in proportion as we ascend into the higher spheres of the +spiritual and supernatural life. It is strange enough to see any +sensible man writing as if he could fairly characterize the devotional +sentiments and religious thoughts of men of a different belief; but it +becomes something more than strange when this venturesome critic +proceeds not only to characterize, but to condemn and to denounce in +the strongest language that which he might in all reason and modesty +have supposed himself, at least, not quite able fully to comprehend; +and this at the very time that he is proposing peace. + +We are not, however, here concerned with this more painful view of the +subject. We are only pointing out that the elaborate chapter of +accusation against the Catholic Church which Dr. Pusey has drawn up +could not fail to be received with great indignation on the part of +Catholics, and that the overtures which accompany it cannot be fairly +dealt with until it has been thoroughly sifted by criticism as well as +by controversy. How can we explain a "system" which we deny to exist? +Of course, no Catholic will acknowledge Dr. Pusey's representation as +anything but a monstrous caricature. Of course, also, the chief heads +of accusation can be easily dealt with one by one, and positive +statements given as to what is really taught, thought, and felt by +Catholics with regard to them. But this leaves the book untouched. How +came these charges to be made? What grounds has Dr. Pusey for +asserting that to be true which we all know to be so false? Does he +quote rightly? Has he understood the books he cites, where he has read +them? And has he read them through? Are the authors whom he gives as +fair specimens of Catholic teaching acknowledged as writers of credit, +or are some of them even on the Index? Has he ever understood the +Catholic doctrines on which he is severe, such as the immaculate +conception and the papal infallibility, or the meaning of the Catholic +authorities whom he seems to set in some sort of opposition to others, +such as Bossuet and the bishops, whose answers he quotes from the +"Pareri?" It is true that questions like this are to some extent +personal; but Dr. Pusey makes it necessary to ask them, and he is the +one person in the world who ought to wish that they should be +thoroughly handled. We cannot believe that he approves of the tactics +of some Anglican critics, who speak as if the ark of their sanctuary +were rudely touched when it is said that he can be mistaken or +ignorant about anything. He has never shown any lack of controversial +courage. Up to the present time we are not aware of a single +publication of any note from the Catholic side of the question which +has not exposed some one or two distinct and important errors of fact, +quotation, historical statement, or some grave misconception of +doctrine on his part; and this, it is to be observed, has hitherto +only been done incidentally by writers who have not addressed +themselves to the systematic examination of the "Eirenicon" as a work +of learning. + +Lastly, this miscellaneous work has occasioned a call which, also, we +are glad to feel sure, will be adequately answered; a call for calm +and learned statements from Catholic theologians on some of the chief +controversial questions touched on by Dr. Pusey. What is the real +unity of the church? What is the true doctrine of her infallibility +and of that of the Roman Pontiff? and how are the commonly alleged +(though so often refuted) objections--as, for instance, that about +what Dr. Pusey calls _formal heresy_ of Liberius--to the met? What is +really meant by the immaculate conception, and what was in truth the +history of the late definition? {219} These, and a few more +important matters--such as the doctrine of transubstantiation, and the +historical truth as to the cases of Meletius and the African +churches--will be treated at length in the forthcoming volume of +essays announced under the title of "Peace through the Truth." The +case of the Anglican ordinations has been incidentally raised by Dr. +Pusey; but it will be natural for Catholic critics to wait for a +volume on the subject which has been announced by Mr. F. G. Lee. As +far as the alleged sanction of those ordinations by Cardinal Pole is +concerned, Dr. Pusey does not seem inclined to raise the question +again. + +We have thus a tolerably large promise of work for theological writers +and readers; and it cannot but be looked on as a good sign that so +strong an impulse to controversial activity should have been given by +one who has not hitherto been fond of inviting attention to the +difficulties of his own position. It is but natural that the more +solid and erudite works called forth by the "Eirenicon" should be the +last to appear; and any one who has read but a few pages of that work +will understand the difficulty which its writer has imposed on any +conscientious critic by a frequently loose way of quoting, and an +occasional habit of giving no authority at all for statements that +certainly require more proof than a bare assertion. But we have +already the beginning of a most valuable collection of publications by +men of the highest position, dealing either with detached portions of +Dr. Pusey's work or in a summary way with its general plan; and some +service has been done by letters in the papers, such as those of Canon +Estcourt and Mr. Rhodes. Father Gallwey's "Sermon" has been widely +circulated; Canon Oakeley has given us an interesting pamphlet on the +"Leading Topics of the Eirenicon;" Dr. Newman has written a letter to +its author, and is understood to be preparing a second; and his grace +the Archbishop of Westminster has dealt with several of Dr. Pusey's +assertions in his "Pastoral Letter on the Reunion of Christendom." We +propose now to deal shortly with some of these publications, which, +though they belong to the earlier and more incidental stage of the +controversy, are of the highest value in themselves and on account of +the position of their authors. [Footnote 39] + + [Footnote 39: We have found it impossible to deal with so important + and authoritative a è as his Grace's "Letter" in our present paper.] + +We must first, however, speak of a work put forth by Dr. Pusey as a +sequel or a companion to the "Eirenicon." This is a republication +(with leave of the author) of the celebrated Tract 90, preceded by an +historical preface from Dr Pusey's own pen, and followed by a letter +of Mr. Keble on "Catholic Subscription to the Articles," which was +widely circulated, though not published, in 1861. Of the tract itself +we need not, of course, speak. Dr. Pusey's preface, however, is open +to one or two obvious remarks. It is remarkable for the manner in +which he identifies himself with the Mr. Newman of the day, though it +appears that the proof of the tract in question was submitted to Mr. +Keble, and its publication urged by him, while Dr. Pusey himself was +only made aware of its existence by the clamor with which it was +received. Then, again, the remarkable difference of view between Dr. +Pusey and Mr. Newman as to the "Catholic" interpretation of the +Articles forces itself again upon our notice. From the tract itself +all through, and its explanations by its author at the time and since, +it is perfectly clear that nothing more was meant by it than to claim +such latitude of interpretation of the Thirty-nine Articles as would +admit the "Catholic" sense on equal terms, as it were, with the +anti-Catholic; and the same view is urged by Mr. Keble in his letter. +The writer of the tract supposes that the Anglican formularies were +drawn {220} up with designed ambiguity, in order to catch Catholic +subscriptions. He compares the tactics adopted by the framers of the +Articles to those which were followed by M. Thiers: "A French +minister, desirous of war, nevertheless, as a matter of policy, draws +up his state papers in such moderate language that his successor, who +is for peace, can act up to them without compromising his own +principles. . . . The Protestant confession was drawn up with the +purpose of including Catholics; and Catholics now will not be +excluded. What was an economy in the reformers is a protection to us" +(Tract 90, conclusion). This is a plain common-sense view of the +matter, and is abundantly supported by history. But it obviously +leaves a stain on the Anglican establishment, which will appear of +vital or of trifling importance according to the different views under +which that community is regarded. If it is looked upon as a political +and national organization, it was no doubt a stroke of prudence so to +frame the formularies as to include both sides. If it is considered as +a church of Christ, it can hardly be anything but discreditable that +it should thus compromise divine truth. But Dr. Pusey's view of the +"Catholic interpretation," as expressed both in his present preface +and in the "Eirenicon," claims for it the exclusive title of the +natural and legitimate sense. It may seem almost incredible that any +one should maintain this; but so it is. Dr. Pusey thus speaks of the +"Protestant" interpretations: "We had all been educated in a +traditional system, which had practically imported into the Articles a +good many principles _which were not contained in them nor suggested +by them;_ yet which were habitually identified with them. . . . . We +proposed no system to ourselves, but laid aside piece by piece the +system of ultra-Protestant interpretation, which had incrusted round +the Articles. This doubtless appeared in our writings from time to +time; but the expositions to which we were accustomed, and which were +to our minds the genuine expositions of the Articles, had never before +been brought into one focus, as they were in Tract 90. . . . Newman +explained that it was written solely against this system of +interpretation, which brought meanings into the Articles, not out of +them, and also why he wrote it at all" (Pref., v.-vii.) Yet the words +of Mr. Newman's explanation, which are quoted immediately after this +last passage, distinctly contradict the interpretation of the tract +put forward by Dr. Pusey. Mr. Newman says that the Anglican Church, as +well as the Roman, in his opinion, has a "traditionary system beyond +and beside the letter of its formularies. . . . . And this +traditionary system not only inculcates what I cannot conceive +(receive?), but would exclude any difference of belief from itself. +_To this exclusive modern system_ I desire to oppose myself; and it is +as doing this, doubtless, that I am incurring the censure of the four +gentlemen who have come before the public. _I want certain points to +be left open which they would close._. . . In thus maintaining that +we have open questions, or, as I have expressed it in the tract, +'ambiguous formularies,' I observe, first, that I am introducing no +novelty." He then gives an instance which shows that the principle is +admitted. Again, he says: "The tract is grounded on the belief that +the Articles _need_ not be so closed as the received methods of +teaching closes them, and _ought_ not to be for the sake of many +persons" (Letter to Dr. Jelf, quoted by Dr. Pusey, p. vii.) + +It is obvious that the interpretations contained in the tract, however +admissible on the hypothesis of their author, become little less than +extravagant when they are considered in the light in which Dr. Pusey +now puts them forward; and it is but fair to Dr. Newman and others to +point out the change. Moreover, it is not {221} impossible that this +republication of the tract, together with the avowals made in the +"Eirenicon" as to the interpretation of the Articles, may be +considered as a kind of challenge thrown out on the part of Dr. Pusey +and his followers to the authorities of the establishment and the +parties within it that are most opposed to "Catholic" opinions. It may +be considered fairly enough that if this "claim to hold all Roman +doctrine"--as far as those well-used words apply to it--is allowed to +pass unnoticed, the position of the "Anglo-Catholic" clergy in the +establishment will be made as secure as silent toleration on the part +of authorities can make it. [Footnote 40] Be it so by all means; but +let it be understood that the claim now made is quite different from +that made by Mr. Newman in 1841; and that if it enjoys immunity from +censure, on account of the far greater latitude now allowed in the +establishment to extreme opinions of every color except one, it has +still to free itself from the charge of being one of the most +grotesque contortions of language that has ever been seriously +advocated as permissible by reasonable men. One of the Articles, for +instance--to take the case adduced by Canon Oakeley--says that +"transubstantiation (or the change of the substance of the bread and +wine) in the Supper of the Lord cannot be proved by Holy Writ; but is +repugnant to the plain words of Scripture, overthroweth the nature of +a sacrament, and hath given occasion to many superstitions." On the +other hand, let us place the Tridentine Canon: "If any one saith that +in the sacred and holy sacrament of the eucharist the substance of the +bread and wine remains conjointly with the body and blood of our Lord +Jesus Christ, and denieth that wonderful and singular conversion of +the whole substance of the bread into the body, and of the whole +substance of the wine into the blood--the species only of the bread +and wine remaining--which conversion the Catholic Church most aptly +calls transubstantiation, let him be anathema." (Sess. xiii.) Not only +does Dr. Pusey assert that there is a sense in which the two +statements are compatible, but he maintains that such an +interpretation is the one single obvious grammatical and legitimate +interpretation of the words of the Anglican Article. We can only +imagine one process of reasoning by which this conclusion can be +maintained; and we have little doubt that if Dr. Pusey's argument were +drawn out it would come to this. The Articles must mean "Catholic" +doctrine, whether they seem to do so or not, because the Anglican +Church is a true and orthodox portion of the Catholic Church. And a +part of the proof that she is such a portion consists in the fact that +her formularies signify Catholic doctrine! + + [Footnote 40: Canon Oakeley, in the pamphlet of which we shall + presently speak, says of Dr. Pusey's interpretation: "Dr. Pusey's + avowal, moreover, not merely involves the acceptance of that + interpretation of the Thirty-nine Articles for which Mr. Newman was + censured by nearly every bishop of the establishment, but goes + beyond that interpretation in a Catholic direction, inasmuch as it + comprehends the doctrine of transubstantiation, which Mr. Newman, I + believe, never thought to be included within the terms of the + Articles. It also goes beyond Mr. Newman's argument in his tract, + _in that it supports the Catholic sense of the Articles to be their + obvious and only true sense._ Instead of being merely one of the + senses which are compatible with honest subscription. And here I + must say, in passing, that I think Dr. Pusey somewhat unfair on Mr. + Ward in attributing to him the unpopularity of Tract 90, since, in + extending the interpretation of the tract to our doctrine of the + blessed eucharist. Dr. Pusey is in fact adopting Mr. Ward's + Construction of the Articles, and not Mr. Newman's" (p, 6).] + +The other noticeable feature in Dr. Pusey's preface is an attempt to +throw the blame of the undoubted unpopularity of Tract 90 upon Mr. +Ward rather than on the tract itself. Mr. Ward was probably at one +time the best-abused person of all the followers of the tractarian +movement; and if powerful reasoning, keen logic, unflinching openness, +and courageous honesty are enough to make a person merit wholesale +abuse, Mr. Ward certainly deserved it. But to attribute the +unpopularity of No. 90 to him is simply to forget dates and distort +facts. {222} In 1841, when the clamor against No. 90 was at its +height, Mr. Ward, though well known in Oxford for his decided opinions +and thorough honesty in avowing them, and though highly influential +(as he could not fail to be) over those who came within his reach, was +hardly known in the country at large. Dr. Pusey's mistake has been +pointed out by Canon Oakeley in the appendix to his pamphlet, of which +we shall speak presently. He observes that the word "non-natural"--of +which he gives a very plain and simple explanation, which quite +vindicates it from the interpretation commonly put upon it--was not +used till the appearance of "The Ideal of a Christian Church" in 1844. + +Canon Oakeley's pamphlet, like everything that he writes, is graceful +and courteous, lucid and cogent; and it ought to have all the greater +weight with Dr. Pusey from the evident disinclination of the author to +think or speak with severity. In fact, Dr. Pusey has already +[Footnote 41] had occasion to correct an over-sanguine conclusion as +to his own position which had been formed by Canon Oakeley in +consequence of certain explanations which he addressed to a Catholic +paper. + + [Footnote 41: In his second letter to the "Weekly Register."] + +We think that the fullest credit should be given to Dr. Pusey for +these explanations; but they must not be allowed to counterbalance +assertions which he has never withdrawn, and seems never to have meant +to withdraw. He has only negatively declared something about the +intention he had in making them. He says they were not meant to hurt +Catholics; he does not say that they were not meant to frighten +Anglicans. We refer, of course, to the large number of pages which he +has devoted to attacks on what he chooses to consider as the practical +system of Catholicism, chiefly with regard to the _cultus_ of our +Blessed Lady, and which no Catholic can read without intense +indignation. He has heaped up a number of extracts from books of very +little authority, and put forward as characteristics of the Catholic +system the pious contemplations of individuals, as well as tenets +which have been actually condemned. The charge is urged with all the +recklessness of an advocate, with eager rhetoric rather than calm +argument, with all the looseness of insinuation and inaccuracy of +quotation which mark the productions of a heated partizan. [Footnote +42] + + [Footnote 42: A writer in the current number of "Macmillan's + Magazine" (Feb., 1866) observes: "We could scarcely transcribe all + that is here set forth without offending the religious taste of our + readers, and appearing to gloat over the degradation of a church + which, amidst all its aberrations and after all ita crimes, is a + part of Christendom. We may reasonably hope, also, that there is + something to be said upon the other side: for, without casting any + suspicion upon Dr. Pusey's honesty, we must remember that he is + personally under a strong temptation to scare the wavering members + of his party from defection to the Church of Rome" (p. 277). This is + the opinion of an intensely anti-Catholic writer; and it would be + easy to quote scores of similar criticisms. A letter from Oxford, in + the "London Review" of February 3, says: "It seems a gentle irony, + certainly, to call a book an 'Eirenicon' which most mercilessly + exposes the errors, perversions, and tendencies of those whom it + proposes to conciliate. A great portion of the book might have been + written by the most distinguished Papophobe--we will not say Dr. + Cumming, for the style does not remind us of his publications." The + writer in "Macmillan" adds an observation on another point which is + well worthy of Dr. Pusey's consideration: "Dr. Pusey's argument, + both against Mariolatry and Papal infallibility, _appeals to + principles essentially rationalistic_, which are capable, as we + conceive, of being turned with fatal effect against himself" (p. + 230).] + +No part of his book shows more earnestness than this. Such being the +case, it seems to us very strange that any one should expect Catholics +to be satisfied with a simple assurance from Dr. Pusey that "nothing +was further from my wish than to write anything which should be +painful to those in your communion." [Footnote 43] + + [Footnote 43: Dr. Pusey to the "Weekly Register," Nov. 25, 1865.] + +We suppose that if some one were to write a pamphlet of a hundred +pages full of the hardest and most vulgar insinuations against +something that Dr. Pusey holds dear and sacred, his opinion of it +would hardly be changed by the assurance, unaccompanied by a single +retraction, "I never meant to hurt your feelings." He would naturally +ask in what sort of atmosphere such a person had lived, to be able to +think that such things _could_ be said without being "painful." He +disclaims {223} all desire to "prescribe to Italians and Spaniards +what they shall hold, or how they shall express their pious opinions." +But he is not speaking of Spaniards or Italians only in many of the +most offensive passages of his work. He says, for instance, that it +"is a practical question, affecting our whole eternity: What shall I +do to be saved? The practical answer to the Roman Catholic seems to me +to be, Go to Mary, and you will be saved; in our dear Lord's own words +it is, Come unto me; in our own belief it is, Go to Jesus, and you +will be saved" (p. 182). Can anything be more shocking than the +contrast insinuated here? Or, again, when he says in another place, +"One sees not where there shall be any pause or bound, short of that +bold conception, 'that every prayer, both of individuals and of the +church, should be addressed to St. Mary?'" Dr. Pusey must be perfectly +aware of the effect of words like these from him upon the mass of his +readers. It is certainly no sufficient _withdrawal_ of them to write a +letter to a Catholic newspaper, of limited circulation, saying that he +"never thought of imputing to any of the writers whom he quoted that +they took from our Lord any of the love which they gave to his +mother." Whatever he may think about the writers themselves, he +certainly asserts in the face of the world that they teach others to +do this. He asserts that there is a "system" in the Catholic Church, +of which this is the effect. If he "had no thought of criticising holy +men who held it," he still will not take Catholic explanations of +their words, which show that they did _not_ hold it; and his own words +imply, or at all events admit of, a reservation, that such is the +tendency of the system, from which certain individuals escape in +consequence of their holiness. Now, it is this assertion about the +system of the church which offends Catholics. They care little about +their own "feelings;" they resent false charges against the church all +the more when they proceed from one who professes to be nearer to them +than others, and to be a lover of peace, and who might easily have +satisfied himself that his accusations were groundless. People have +not complained of Dr. Pusey's intention in saying these things, but of +his having said them. They willingly accept his statement as to his +intention; but misrepresentations retain their mischievous character +till they have been formally withdrawn, whatever may have been the +temper in which they have been put forward. + +It is, moreover, obvious that this, which to ordinary eyes is the +prominent feature in Dr. Pusey's volume, must be taken into account in +all conclusions concerning the present state of mind among Anglicans +that are founded upon the reception which the "Eirenicon" has met with +among them. We think that there are but few among them, as there are +certainly very few among Catholics, who attach much practical +importance to the vague and dreamy ideas about corporate union by +means of mutual explanations which are put forward in other parts of +the work. It is perfectly clear that Dr. Pusey's account of the +Articles would be repudiated at once by all the Anglican authorities; +and equally clear that the points to which he still objects, such as +the papal infallibility and the dogma of the immaculate conception, +are among those which can never be conceded on the side of the church. +The proposals for union are not, therefore, generally looked upon as +matters for practical consideration; though, as Dr. Newman has +remarked, they may hereafter lead to results of the highest +importance. What has struck the Anglican public in the book is its +attack on Catholicism, which has, no doubt, surprised Protestants as +much as Catholics by its violence. We say, therefore, that to consider +Dr. Pusey's unrebuked declaration about the possibility of union as a +great sign of progress among Anglicans, without {224} taking into +consideration the other features of the work which he has put forth, +is to ignore the most essential circumstances of the case. Canon +Oakeley compares the outcry with which similar declarations were once +received on Mr. Ward's part and his own with the indifference and +absence of opposition now evinced toward Dr. Pusey. It is true that +the cases are in some respects parallel; but there is this vital +difference, that neither Mr. Ward nor Canon Oakeley accompanied their +declarations as to Roman doctrine with virulent abuse of Roman +practice; and we may feel pretty certain that the "Ideal of a +Christian Church" would never have been made the ground of an +academical condemnation of its author if it had contained the hundred +pages on the _cultus_ of the Blessed Virgin on which Dr. Pusey has +expended so much care, and which he has adorned with so much apparent +erudition. Englishmen judge roughly, and in the main fairly; and they +will look on the proposals for union as an amiable eccentricity in a +writer who has pandered so lovingly to their favorite prejudices. + +Canon Oakeley has drawn out very clearly another very important +qualification, which must modify our feelings of joy at the apparent +progress of Anglicans in general toward greater tolerance of Catholic +opinions among themselves. He has shown that this seemingly good sign +is in reality only an indication of increasing indifference to +doctrine of every kind. It is the reflection on the broad mirror of +public opinion of the uniformly latitudinarian tendency of the +authorities of the establishment, as evinced in the succession of +judicial decisions of which we have all heard so much. It is not +wonderful that Puseyism should share in this universal indulgence. We +have also to thank Canon Oakeley for a calm and forcible vindication +of the Catholic devotion to our Blessed Lady, which has been made the +subject of so violent an attack by Dr. Pusey--perhaps more in the form +of an apology than was necessary--and for some very sensible remarks +on the dream of "corporate union." + +There is one writer in England whose words on this subject will be +listened to with almost equal interest by Catholics and Protestants. +The conflict passes into a new phase with the appearance of Dr. Newman +upon the scene. It is "the great Achilles moving to the war." The +gleam of well-worn armor flashes on the eye, and the attention of both +armies is riveted on him as he lifts his spear. He cannot mutter his +favorite motto: + +[Greek text] + +for it is but lately that he struck down and kicked off the field a +swaggering bully from the opposite ranks hardly worthy of his steel. +It is different now. He will begin in Homeric fashion with a +complimentary harangue to the champion on the other side; but then +will come the time for blows--blows of immense force, dealt out with a +gentle affectionateness which enhances their effect tenfold. Dr. +Newman begins by a generous tribute to Dr. Pusey himself, and to those +whom he may be supposed to influence. No one can speak more strongly +on the paramount rights of conscience, which is not to be stifled for +the sake of making a path easy or removing a wearisome difficulty. Dr. +Pusey is allowed to have every right to mention the conditions on +which he proposes union, though Dr. Newman does not agree with them, +and thinks that he would himself not hold to them; he has also the +right to state what it is that he objects to, as requiring +explanation, in the Catholic system. But then the tone changes, and +business begins. Dr. Newman tells his old friend in the plainest way +that "there is much both in the matter and manner of his volume +calculated to wound those who love him well, but truth more;" and he +points out the {225} glaring inconsistency of "professing to be +composing an Irenicon while treating Catholics as foes;" and +characterizes, in his happy way, the proceeding of Dr. Pusey as +"discharging an olive branch as from a catapult." The hundred pages on +the subject of the Blessed Virgin which are contained in the +"Eirenicon" are so palpably "one-sided" that no one can venture to +deny it. Few have characterized them in stronger terms than Dr. +Newman. "What could an Exeter Hall orator, what could a Scotch +commentator on the Apocalypse, do more for his own side of the +controversy by the picture he drew of us?" Further on he pointedly +reminds Dr. Pusey that he all the time knew better. After a proof from +the fathers as to the doctrine in question, he says, "You know what +the fathers assert; but if so, have you not, my dear friend, been +unjust to yourself in your recent volume, and made far too much of the +differences which exist between Anglicans and us on this particular +point? It is the office of an Irenicon to smooth difficulties" (p. +83); and again, "As you revere the fathers, so you revere the Greek +Church; and here again we have a witness in our behalf, _of which you +must be aware as fully as we are_, and of which you must really mean +to give us the benefit" (p. 95); and again, "Then I think you have not +always made your quotations with that consideration and kindness which +is your rule" (p. 111). The calm gentleness of the language will +certainly not conceal from Dr. Pusey the gravity and severity of the +rebuke thus administered. Moreover, Dr. Newman has complaints of his +own to urge. With the most questionable taste Dr. Pusey has actually +brought "to life one of" Dr. Newman's "own strong sayings, in 1841, +about idolatry;" he has at least been understood to father upon him +the well-known saying, that "the establishment is the great bulwark +against infidelity in this land;" he has used some words from Dr. +Newman's notes to St. Athanasius in a collection of passages from the +fathers, the apparent purpose of which is to defend some Anglican +doctrine about the sufficiency of Holy Scripture against a supposed +Catholic contradiction. Dr. Newman also most clearly distinguishes his +own intention in publishing Tract 90 from that of Dr. Pusey in its +recent republication. + +The introduction to the letter before us concludes with a passage of +singular interest, in which Dr. Newman vindicates the right of a +convert to speak freely about the system of the church to which he has +submitted. We must confess that we hardly understood the passages in +Dr. Pusey's work, to which reference is here made, as denying the +right of free comment to a convert, in the sense in which Dr. Newman +affirms it. Dr. Pusey has a standard and measure of his own (external +to the Anglican establishment), by which he criticises, approves, or +condemns this or that feature in it; and he distinctly contemplates at +least the possibility of his being driven to quit it by its formal +adoption of heresy. Certainly, to submit to the Catholic Church, and +yet retain the right of measuring her in such a way by an external +standard, would be a contradiction in terms. But this does not touch +the right of a convert either to choose freely, according to his own +tastes and leanings, among those varieties of devotion and practice +which the church expressly leaves to his choice, or to express his +opinion on such subjects (so that it be done with charity), or on any +other matters which fall within the wide and recognized range of open +questions. If Dr. Pusey meant to deny this right, he will be convinced +by the frank use made of it by Dr. Newman in the passage before us. No +one, certainly, will assail _him_ as unorthodox; yet he takes his +stand openly on one particular side with regard to some of the moot +questions of the day, as to which certainly a large {226} number of +English Catholics will be as ready to say that they do not altogether +agree with him as to acknowledge that he has a perfect right to the +opinions which he expresses. Perhaps we should rather say that they +will profess their admiration for the authors whom he so far at least +disavows as to question their right to be treated in controversy as +the legitimate and exclusive representatives of English Catholicism; +for we need not understand Dr. Newman's words about the late Father +Faber and the editor of the "Dublin Review" as meaning more than this; +and his point, as against Dr. Pusey, is fully secured by the +indisputable fact that those distinguished men have never considered +themselves, or let others consider them, as such representatives. + +The greater part, however, of Dr. Newman's present letter is given to +an exquisite defence of Catholic doctrine and devotion as regards our +Blessed Lady. Its power and beauty are so great as to fill us with +inexpressible sadness at the thought that Dr. Newman has written +comparatively so little on similar subjects since he has been a +Catholic. This short and very condensed sketch on one particular point +has given him an opportunity of exercising, on however limited a +scale, those powers as to which he is simply unrivalled. There is the +keen penetration of the sense of Scripture, and of the relation +between different and distinct parts of the Holy Volume. After putting +forward the patristic view of our Blessed Lady as the second Eve, Dr. +Newman has occasion to defend that interpretation of the vision of the +woman in the Apocalypse which understands it of her. This has given +him occasion to explain how it is that this interpretation may be the +true one, although there is no great amount of positive testimony for +it in the fathers, and to refute from the general principles of +scriptural language that which looks upon the image as simply a +personification of the church. This passage is a real and great gain +in scriptural interpretation. Then, again, here is the masterly and +discriminating erudition, not dealing with the fathers as an +ill-arranged and incoherent mass of authorities, but giving to each +witness his due place and weight, pointing out what parts of the +church and what apostolical tradition he represents, and blending the +different sufferages into one harmonious statement. History is brought +in to trace the gradual development of devotion on points as to which +doctrine, on the other hand, was always uniform; and to give a natural +and simple explanation of the chronological order in which the heart, +as it were, of the church seems to have mastered the different +portions of the wonderful deposit which the apostles sowed in her +mind. The effect of Dr. Newman's explanation of the comparatively +later growth of certain devotions, which in themselves might have been +expected to precede others, is not only to remove the apparent +difficulty, but to make every other view appear more difficult than +that which he gives. Equally beautiful and convincing is his +explanation in the appendix of the historical account which may be +given of the strange sayings of certain fathers as to our Blessed Lady +having possibly fallen into faults of infirmity. Some most accurate +and delicate tests for the discernment of a real tradition are here +given, as well as reasons for the apparent absence of such a tradition +in a special case. Dr. Newman is one of the few writers who show us, +first, that they thoroughly understand a difficulty or an objection; +then, that they can make it even stronger; and then, that they can not +only say something against it, or crush it, but even unravel it, and +show that it was to be expected. In every one of these respects Dr. +Pusey is his exact contrary. Then again, Dr. Newman brings together a +series of passages from the fathers of the "undivided church"--to use +the now term invented, we believe, by Mr. Keble--of which, of course, +{227} Dr. Pusey was aware, but of which he has said nothing in his +"Eirenicon." These testify amply not only to the doctrine but to the +devotion of the fourth and fifth centuries as to our Blessed Lady. He +is, of course, sparing of quotations in a work like the present; but +he crowns his argument from authority by a number of passages not from +popular books of devotion among the Greeks, but from their liturgies +and authoritative formularies--on which Dr. Pusey would have founded +a strong argument to the effect that our Lady is elevated to the place +of our Lord, if he had been able to find them in circulation among +Catholics. In fact, a number of formal Greek devotions end with the +words, "through the Theotocos," instead of "per Dominum nostrum Jesum +Christum." The contrast between the cogency and appositeness of every +word of Dr. Newman's few quotations (almost universally given at +length), and the utter illusiveness and bewildering misapplication of +the clouds upon clouds of citations paraded in Dr. Pusey's volume, is +wonderfully striking. Nor, again, is the difference less great between +the two when a personal remark has to be made. Dr. Newman has no hard +words for any one. He does not shrink from pointing out faults, as we +have already said. He tells Dr. Pusey plainly enough that he does not +think that he even understands what the immaculate conception means; +and when he speaks of Anglicans being ignorant of the Catholic +doctrine of original sin, he seems carefully to omit exempting Dr. +Pusey from the general statement. He says again pointedly, "He who +charges us with making Mary a divinity is thereby denying the divinity +of Jesus. _Such a man does not know what divinity is._" He complains +of the unfairness--of which, we are sorry to say, Dr. Pusey seems +habitually guilty--of taking a strong and apparently objectionable +passage from an author who, either in the immediate context or +elsewhere, has qualified it by other statements, which any one but a +partizan writer would feel bound to take into consideration and to +place by its side, without giving the reader any intimation that such +qualifications exist. "When, then, my dear Pusey, you read anything +extravagant in praise of our Lady, is it not charitable to ask, even +while you condemn it in itself, Did the author write nothing else?" +(p. 101). He refuses to receive Dr. Pusey's collection of strong +passages as a fair representation of the minds of the authors from +whom they are quoted. He speaks of their "literal and absolute sense, +as any Protestant would naturally take them, and as the writers +doubtless did not use them" (p. 118). And again: "I know nothing of +the originals, and cannot believe that they have meant what you say" +(p. 120). But with all this strong and decisive language, which we may +be sure is the very gentlest that he can use, and implies an estimate +of the "Eirenicon" by no means in accordance with that of its +admirers, he is so uniformly calm and affectionate in manner that we +cannot but hope that Dr. Pusey and others who think with him will be +won over to think more seriously of the extreme gravity of their step +in casting forth upon the world of English readers so extremely +intemperate an accusation against the Catholic Church as that which +they have put in circulation. Nor can we abandon the hope that they +will listen to Dr. Newman's clear and unanswerable statement of the +doctrine of the fathers as to our Blessed Lady, and see how truly he +has pointed to the flaws and defects in their own thoughts with regard +to her. They will certainly be hardly able to deny that they have +misunderstood not only the immaculate conception, against which they +have talked so loudly, but even, it may be, original sin itself; nor +do we think that it can be questioned that he has put his finger upon +the fundamental error--not to say heresy---to which all their low +conceptions as to the Blessed Mother of God {228} are to be assigned +as their ultimate cause. Dr. Pusey, as Dr. Newman remarks, seems to +have no idea that our Blessed Lady had any other part or position in +the incarnation than as its _physical instrument_--much the same part, +as it were, that Juda or David may have had. The fathers, on the +contrary, from the very first, speak of her "as an intelligent, +responsible cause of our Lord's taking flesh;" "her faith and +obedience being accessories to the incarnation, and gaining it as her +reward" (p. 38). Dr. Newman insists on this vital and all-important +difference more than once, and seems to consider it the explanation of +the strange blindness of these students of antiquity. If they can once +gain a new and more Catholic idea as to that which is the foundation +alike of our Blessed Lady's greatness and the devotion of the church +to her--and certainly they must be very blind or very obstinate not to +see the reasons for such an idea in Dr. Newman's pages--then the +"Eirenicon" will have produced incidentally a far greater blessing to +themselves and others than if its strange interpretation of the +Anglican Articles had been allowed as legitimate in England, and there +had been half a score of Du Pins in France ready to enter into +negotiations with the Archbishop of Canterbury on the basis of its +propositions. These good men have in fact been living and teaching and +studying the fathers with one of the great seminal facts, so to speak, +of Christianity absent from their minds or entirely undeveloped in +them. "It was the creation of a new idea and a new sympathy, a new +faith and worship, when the holy apostles announced that God had +become incarnate; we a supreme love and devotion to him became +possible, which seemed hopeless before that revelation. _But beside +this, a second range of thoughts was opened on mankind, unknown +before, and unlike any other, as soon as it was understood that that +incarnate God had a mother. The second idea is perfectly distinct from +the former--the one does not interfere with the other."_ We conceive +that these words will fall strangely on the ears of Dr. Pusey, though +they might not perhaps do so on those of the author of the "Christian +Year" and the "Lyra Innocentium;" and if they do so, after the +incontestable proof which Dr. Newman has adduced from the early +fathers of their view of the position of our Blessed Lady in the +economy of the incarnation, it will only remain for Dr. Pusey either +to confute that proof or to acknowledge that he has been reasoning on +that great mystery without the guidance of the church, deaf to the +teaching of the fathers, and that he has incurred the usual fate of +men who so reason. May the prayers of the Blessed Mother, against +whose honor he has raised his voice so harshly, save him from closing +his eyes still more firmly! + +It appears to be one of the characteristics of Dr. Newman to look at +particular questions and phases of opinion with regard to a wider and +more comprehensive range of thought than other men. Possibly his +retired position favors this habit of mind; but it is, of course, far +more naturally to be attributed to a loftier intellectual stature and +a wider knowledge of history than others possess. Such a man is +eminently fitted for a controversy like the present, in which the word +peace has been blurted forth in so uncouth a manner, while yet it is +not the less the expression of the real and powerful longings of a +thousand hearts. It is a most unpromising overture, but it is an +overture nevertheless. Dr. Newman is not only fitted to deal with it +on account of his tender and large sympathies, and of the affectionate +solicitude with which he has always treated his former friends; he is +able also not indeed to go to the very verge of Catholic doctrine for +their sakes, or to encourage delusive hopes of a compromise which +would patch up rather than unite, but to speak with calm {229} +accuracy, looking on his own times as a philosophical historian of the +church may look at them by-and-bye, and point out what may be +accidental, transient, local, in the features of the religion of the +present day. No one can be less inclined to exaggerate, for instance, +the differences between English and Italian devotion; and we have +seldom felt ourselves in a more Italian atmosphere, out of Italy, than +in the oratory at Edgbaston. But he is not afraid of giving full +weight to national differences of character, nor of avowing himself a +hearty Englishman. In the same way, without going into the question of +fact as to alleged extravagances--which, after all, is of no real +cogency in the argument--he is ready to admit that there may be such, +and puts forward a simple common-sense argument to show that such may +be expected in the living working of energetic ideas generally, and +especially of such ideas in matters of religion, which acts on the +affections. This is the true philosophical answer; and it by no means +excludes other answers that might be given to particular charges, +which might be proved to be false in fact, or to apply to matters so +grave as that the church would never be allowed to permit the alleged +corruption. + +Dr. Newman never shrinks from allowing the full force of any principle +that he has laid down. Thus, he has distinguished between faith as to +our Blessed Lady's position in the kingdom of her Son and the devotion +to her founded upon that faith. The faith may have been from the +beginning, and actually was so, as he proves from the early fathers; +but the full devotion may not all at once have been developed; or +again, it may have been checked in particular countries at a +particular time, and so make no show in the writings of some fathers +of that age, in consequence of the baneful influence of a prevalent +heresy which cut at the faith itself. This, which is really almost +self-evident, enables him not only to explain the passages in St. +Chrysostom and St. Basil which are sometimes objected to, but to grant +that there are no certain traces of _devotion_, strictly so called, to +our Blessed Lady in the writings of others beside these. There need +not be, according to his principles. It must be remembered that all +these statements admit of great development and explanation; they are +germs of thought, and are only put forward most concisely in Dr. +Newman's present letter. It is more to our present purpose to observe +how ready he is to look through the cloud of charges, great and small, +which Dr. Pusey has blown in the face of Catholics, and to discern in +the book of his old friend a new and important turning-point in the +Anglican controversy. He thinks that the indignation of Catholics has +led them in consequence to misconceive Dr. Pusey, so as not, it would +seem, to give him credit for really pacific intentions. We think that +no one has denied--what, indeed, it does not become a critic to +question--the reality of a purpose distinctly avowed; but at the same +time we must repeat that it has never been denied by Dr. Pusey, nor do +we think it ever can be denied, that the book was written with a clear +and distinct intention so to represent Catholicism as to deter people +from submitting to it except on certain terms pointed out by the +author. Possibly Dr. Newman only means that Catholics have been more +alienated by Dr. Pusey's most unhandsome attack than attracted by his +professions of friendship; and certainly never was a friendly +expostulation, never was an earnest request for explanation on certain +points which appear to be difficulties in the way of a much-desired +union, proposed in a way less calculated to conciliate. Dr. Newman, +therefore, neither wonders nor complains at the strong feeling with +which the "Eirenicon" has been received; but he looks beyond the +present moment, and, recalling the former phases of opinion as to +{230} Catholicism which have prevailed among Anglicans, he sees in Dr. +Pusey's proceeding nothing less than the putting "the whole argument +between you and us on a new footing"--a footing which may really and +profitably be used by those who desire peace. No English Catholic but +will most heartily rejoice in this statement of Dr. Newman; and surely +one of our first feelings must be that of thankfulness that he is +among us at a time like this, and that circumstances will give him a +more patient hearing and a more ready acceptance, on the part of those +whose souls may be staked on the issue of this controversy, than he +might otherwise meet with. From him, at least, Anglicans will hear no +extreme or novel doctrine; him, at least, they will never accuse of +not loving everything that is English. He, if any one, may convince +them that no true child of the "undivided church" would be found at +the present day outside the communion of the Holy See; that the church +is the same now as she ever was, and as she ever will be; that she can +never compromise with her enemies, though she yearns with unutterable +love to take back every wanderer to her heart. + +Experience has happily shown that the great Shepherd of souls leads +men on in a way they neither discern nor desire, when they have once +set themselves to wish and pray for greater light; and that prophecies +of ill and suspicions of sinister purposes, which have not lacked +ample foundation, have yet been often defeated in the indulgent +dispensations of grace. Nor, indeed, at the present time, are all the +signs of the sky evil. In its most disagreeable and inexcusable +features the "Eirenicon" is not, we are convinced, a fair +representation of the mind of a great number who might commonly be +supposed to sympathize with its author. He has put himself for the +moment at their head; and they are, of course, slow to repudiate his +assistance; but we do not believe that the earnest men who publish so +many Catholic devotions, and who, however mistakenly, attempt to +reproduce in their own churches the external honors paid by Catholics +to him whom they also think that they have with them, would willingly +make themselves responsible for the hundred pages with which Dr. +Newman's present pamphlet is engaged. The advance toward Catholicism +among the Anglicans has, in fact, left Dr. Pusey some way behind other +and younger men. Even as to himself, he is hardly further away than +others have been who are now within the church. + +Only it must not be forgotten that the largest and most charitable +thoughts as to the meaning and intentions of individuals, and the most +hopeful anticipations as to the ultimate result of their movements, do +not exhaust the duties imposed upon Catholic writers at the present +moment. Let us see ever so much of good in demonstrations such as +this, and believe that there is a still greater amount of good which +we do not see. We may forbear to press men harshly, to point out +baldly the inconsistencies of their position; we may put up with the +rudeness of the language in which they propose peace. They may be +haughty and ungenerous now; but this is not much to bear for the sake +of that unity which those who know it love better than those who are +strangers to it. Let us be ready, as far as persons are concerned, to +be tender in exposing faults even wanton, and misconceptions which, as +we think, common industry and fairness might have obviated. For Dr. +Pusey himself we can wish no severer punishment than that he should be +able some day to look upon his own work with the eyes of a Catholic. +He has himself shown us, by the use which he has made of old +expressions of Dr. Newman and others, who have long since repudiated +them, that the retraction of charges against the Catholic Church by +their authors does not prevent {231} others from repeating them. We +are sorry to say--what we still believe will be acknowledged as true +by all who have been at the pains--pains not taken by some who have +written on this subject--of not merely considering the animus and +motives of Dr. Pusey, but of examining his book in detail, and taking +its measure as a work of erudition and controversy--that, unattractive +in style, rambling, incoherent, vague, and intentionally "loose" as it +is, it has one great quality, however unintentional--that of being a +perfect storehouse of misrepresentation. We speak simply as critics, +and we disclaim all attempts to account for the phenomenon. It +contains an almost unparalleled number of misstatements of every kind +and degree. Its author's reputation will give weight and currency to +these. Though never perhaps likely to be a popular book, it will still +take its place in Protestant libraries, and will be much used in +future controversies. No one can tell how often we shall have certain +extraordinary statements about the sanctification of the Blessed +Virgin, her active and passive conception, the protest of the Greek +Church against the doctrine, Bellarmine's assertion about general +councils, transubstantiation, extreme unction, and the like, brought +up against us; and the erroneous conclusions founded upon them cannot +be neglected by the defenders of Catholic truth. It is, therefore, +essential not that Dr. Pusey should be attacked in an unkindly spirit, +but that his book should be handled critically, and, as far as may be, +whatever it contains of misstatement, misquotation, unfair insinuation +and conclusion catalogued and exposed. It must be remembered that +there is a great demand for the materials of anti-Catholic +controversy. Dr. Pusey does not subscribe to the societies which +mostly hold their meetings in Exeter Hall in the month of May; but he +might well be made a life-governor of all of them in consideration of +this book. It will be used by the zealots who try to win the poor +peasants of Connaught to apostasy by means of food and clothing, and +by the more decorous "Anglo-Continentals," who are just now rubbing +their hands at the prospects of infidelity in Italy. Alas! it not only +teems with snares for the learned and conscientious, but it is full of +small insinuations for the ignobler herd of paid agents and +lecturers--"what the poorer people believe in Rome," what Catholic +churches are called in south India, what Cardinal Wiseman is reported +to have said of Archbishop Affré, "who died in recovering his people +at the barricades." These things may be passed by as simply faults of +taste; but the pretensions of the book to learning, and its historical +and doctrinal statements, cannot be admitted without sifting. Dr. +Pusey has imposed an unwelcome task on Catholic critics. At the very +time that they would be conciliating his followers, they are forced to +attack him. It has seemed to us indeed that ordinary care in examining +authorities, an attention to the common-sense rule that strangers +cannot understand a system from without, the use of the many means at +his disposal of ascertaining the Catholic meaning of Catholic +language, more self-restraint in assertion, in urging arguments that +appeared telling and conclusions that were welcome to himself, and +somewhat less of confidence in his own attainments as a theologian, +would have spared those who wish him well this painful undertaking at +a time when they would gladly say no word that may sound harsh to his +ears. But, after all, truth is more precious than peace, and peace can +only be had through the truth; and we can cordially return to Dr. +Pusey the assurance which he himself has proffered to Catholics, that +those engaged in the ungrateful task of subjecting his volume to the +analysis of criticism have no intention whatever of wounding his +feelings. + +------ +{232} + + +[ORIGINAL.] + +CURIOSITIES OF ANIMAL LIFE. + + +There is an old aphorism which says that "all life comes from an +egg"--_omne vivum ex ovo_; but this, like a good many other old +aphorisms, is only a convenient and attractive way of stating a +falsehood. It is very true that almost all animals, from man down to +the mollusk, pass through the egg stage at an early period of their +existence; but we purpose to show our readers in this article that +there are others which appear to be sometimes exempted from the common +lot of their kind, and which indeed come into the world in such +curious fashions that we may almost say of them, in the words of +Topsey, that they "never were born; 'spect they _growed_." + +To begin with, what is an egg? According to the popular idea, it is an +oval-shaped body, consisting of a hard, thin shell inclosing a whitish +substance called the albumen, within which is a yellowish matter +called the yolk; it is the embryo form of the young of birds and some +other animals, which finally emerge from the shell after the egg has +been acted upon for some time by the heat of the parent's body. Now +this definition may do well enough as a loose description of the more +familiar varieties of eggs, but it will not do for all. It will +perhaps surprise the unscientific reader to be told that every animal +whatever produces eggs. A "mare's nest" is the popular expression of a +myth, an absurdity; but _mare's eggs_ are no myths; they are just as +real as hen's eggs; only we never see them, because they are hatched +in the parent's body before the young colt is brought forth. The same +is true of the eggs of all the other quadrupeds and of viviparous +animals in general. + +An egg, therefore, like the seed of a plant, is the germ from which +the embryo is developed. It may have a shell, or it may not; it may be +comparatively large, like birds' eggs, or it may be so small as to be +with difficulty discerned by the naked eye. When it is first formed it +is simply an aggregation of fluid matter, very minute in size, and +exceedingly simple in structure. By degrees this fluid is transformed +into the small particles or granules which form the yolk; the yolk +shapes itself into a multitude of _cells_--little microscopic bodies +consisting of an external membrane, or cell-wall, and of an inner +nucleus, which may be either solid or fluid; and in due process of +time a number of cells combine and form a living being. The albumen, +or "white," is, like the shell, an accessory. It performs important +functions in the development of the young from the germ, but we will +not stop to explain them here; the true egg is the yolk. In the lowest +forms of animal life the egg is a mere cell, with a light spot in one +part of it, and the creature which is developed from it is almost as +simple in structure as the egg itself. + +The ordinary mode of reproduction, as we have already said, is by the +formation of an egg in the body of the parent, from which the young +may be hatched either before or after they are brought into the world. +But there are certain of the lower orders of animals which sometimes +multiply and {233} perpetuate their kind in other ways also. Professor +Henry James Clark, of Harvard University, has lately published an +interesting treatise [Footnote 44] on animal development, in which +he gives some curious instances of the phenomena to which we refer. We +have drawn a good deal of what we have just said about the structure +of eggs from his valuable work, and we purpose now to follow him in +his remarks upon the processes of reproduction by what is called +_budding_ and _division_. + + [Footnote 44: "Mind in Nature; or, The Origin of Life and the Mode + of Development of Animals." 8vo. New York: D. Appleton & Co.] + +Let us look first at that exceedingly beautiful and wonderful animal +commonly called the sea anemone, on account of the delicate fringed +flower so much loved by poets. You may often find it on our coasts +contracted into a lump of gelatinous substance looking like +whitish-brown jelly; [Footnote 45] watch it for a while, and you +will see the body rise slightly, while a delicate crown of tentacles, +or feelers, steals out at the top. The jelly-like mass continues to +increase in height, and the wreath of tentacles gradually expands. +Soon you will perceive that this graceful fringe surrounds a wide +opening; this is the animal's mouth. When expanded to its full size +the anemone is about three or four inches in height. The body consists +of a cylindrical gelatinous bag, the bottom of which is flat and +slightly spreading at the margin. The upper edge of this bag is turned +in, so as to form a sack within a sack; this is the stomach. The whole +summit of the body is crowned by the soft plumy fringes which give it +such a remarkable resemblance to a flower. At the base it has a set of +powerful muscles, by which it attaches itself to rocks and shells so +firmly that it can hardly be removed without injury. Another set of +muscles enables it to contract itself almost instantaneously into a +shapeless lump. It is extremely sensitive, not only shrinking from the +slightest touch, but even drawing in its tentacles if so much as a +dark cloud passes over it. Anemones may be found, say the authors of +"Sea-side Studies," "in any small pools about the rocks which are +flooded by the tide at high water. Their favorite haunts, however, +where they occur in greatest quantity, are more difficult to reach; +but the curious in such matters will be well rewarded, even at the +risk of wet feet and a slippery scramble over rocks covered with damp +sea-weed, by a glimpse into their more crowded abodes. Such a grotto +is to be found on the rocks of East Point at Nahant. It can only be +reached at low tide, and then one is obliged to creep on hands and +knees to its entrance in order to see through its entire length; but +its whole interior is studded with these animals, and as they are of +various hues, pink, brown, orange, purple, or pure white, the effect +is like that of brightly-colored mosaics set in the roof and walls. +When the sun strikes through from the opposite extremity of this +grotto, which is open at both ends, lighting up its living +mosaic-work, and showing the play of the soft fringes whenever the +animals are open, it would be difficult to find any artificial grotto +to compare with it in beauty. There is another of the same kind on +Saunders's ledge, formed by a large boulder resting on two rocky +ledges, leaving a little cave beneath, lined in the same way with +variously-colored sea anemones, so closely studded over its walls that +the surface of the rock is completely hidden. They are, however, to be +found in larger or smaller clusters, or scattered singly, in any rocky +fissures overhung by sea-weed and accessible to the tide at high +water." + + [Footnote 45: "Sea-side Studies in Natural History." By Elizabeth + Alexander Agassiz. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1865.] + +Mr. Gosse, in his "History of British Sea Anemones and Corals," +mentions the existence of a singular connection between a certain +variety of these animals and a species of hermit crab that lives in +the deserted {234} shell of a mollusk. An anemone is always found +attached to the shell which the crab inhabits, and is so placed that +its fringed month comes just below the mouth of the crab. Whatever +food comes within reach of either animal can, therefore, be shared in +common. The crab is so far from objecting to this community of goods +that he seems unhappy without his companion. Though he is a hermit, he +is not exempt from the common lot of housekeepers; he submits every +now and then to the trouble of _moving-day_. + +Mr. Gosse observed one in the act of changing houses. No sooner had he +taken possession of the new shell than he began removing the anemone +from the old one, running his claw under it to separate it from the +shell, and then bringing it to the new house, where, having placed it +in its customary position, he held it down until it had attached +itself, and now and then pressed it closer, or gave it a pat to hasten +the process. In another instance, observed by Mr. Holdsworth, the +crab, after vainly trying for more than an hour to remove his +companion anemone, deserted his new quarters and went back to the old, +rather than submit to a separation. + +The anemone, for all that it is so delicate and graceful in +appearance, is a gluttonous little beast, eats raw meat in the +aquarium, and when upon its native coast sucks mussels and cockles out +of their shells. Queer compound of plant and animal in appearance, its +natural kingdom seems still more doubtful than ever if we watch it +while it is undergoing certain processes of reproduction. It does +indeed generally produce its young by maternal gestation; eggs are +formed in the cavity that surrounds its stomach, and at the proper +time the young swim out of the parent's mouth. But it has other modes +of propagation, one of which is almost exactly like the process of +raising plants from suckers. Very often you may see, growing out of +the lower part of the body of the anemone, and as a general thing near +the edge of the basal disc by which it attaches itself to the shell or +rock, little rounded protuberances, like buds; well, they are +buds--the buds of young anemones. In a short time six small tentacles +make their appearance on the top of each bud. A minute oblong aperture +opens in the midst of them. A digestive cavity is formed. The curious +internal structure of the animal (which we have not space here to +describe) is gradually developed. The bud becomes elongated and +enlarged every way. The tentacles multiply; the small aperture grows +into a mouth; and finally the young anemone drops off from its parent +and floats away to shift for itself. Professor Clark has seen as many +as twenty thus detach themselves in the course of a single month. This +is the process of generation by _budding_ or _gemmation_, of which we +spoke on a previous page. + +But we have not yet exhausted the list of wonders displayed by this +extraordinary plant-animal. We have seen that it has at least two ways +of being born; what will our readers say when we assure them that it +has not only two but _four?_ The remaining two both come under the +head of what is called _voluntary self-division_. One of them is +strikingly like the propagation of plants by cuttings. Little pieces +break off from the anemone at the base and float away. For a long time +they give no sign of life; but when they have recovered, so to speak, +from the shock of separation, they begin to shoot out their tentacles +and grow up into perfect individuals. The fourth method of generation +is still more wonderful. Now and then you find an anemone whose upper +disc is contracted in a peculiar manner at opposite sides. The +contraction increases until the disc loses its circular form and +presents the shape of the figure 8. The two halves of the 8 next +separate, and you {235} have an anemone with two mouths, each +surrounded by its own set of tentacles. Then the processes of +constriction and separation continue all down the body of the animal +from summit to base, and the result is two perfect anemones, each +complete in its organization. It is well that the lower orders of +creatures have none of the laws of inheritance and primo-geniture that +bother mankind, or such irregular methods of coming into the world +might breed a great deal of trouble among them. Here, for instance, +you have two anemones, which we will call A and B, formed by the +splitting asunder of a single individual; what relation are they to +each other? Are they brother and sister or parent and child? And if +the latter, how is any one to decide which is the parent? Then suppose +A raises offspring in the usual way from eggs, what relation are these +young to B? Are they sisters, or nieces, or grandchildren? + +Let us now look at another animal, the stentor, or trumpet-animalcule. +This is a minute infusorian, very common in ponds and ditches, where +it forms colonies on the stems of water-weeds or submerged sticks and +stones. Some of the varieties have a deep blue color, and a settlement +of them looks very much like a patch of blue mould. The stentor is +shaped like a little tube, about one-sixteenth of an inch in length, +spread out at the upper end like a trumpet, and tapering at the lower +almost to a point. When it has fixed upon a place of abode, it +constructs a domicile, consisting of a gelatinous sheath, perhaps half +as high as itself. It lives inside this sheath, with its smaller +extremity attached to the bottom of it, and its wide, funnel-shaped +end projecting above the top. When disturbed it retreats into the +house and shrinks into a globular mass. The disc of the trumpet end is +not perfectly regular; on one side the edge turns inward so as to form +a notch, and curls upon itself in a spiral form. Within this spiral is +the mouth, and a long funnel-shaped throat reaches from it to the +digestive cavity. Opposite the mouth there is a globular cavity, from +which a tube extends to the lower extremity of the body. The cavity +seems to perform the functions of a heart, and the tube takes the +place of veins and arteries. Once in three-quarters of a minute this +heart-like organ contracts and forces the fluid which it contains into +the tube; the latter in its turn, after expanding very sensibly to +receive the flow, contracts and returns it to the heart. + +The stentor propagates by budding, like the anemone. The first change +that takes place is a division of this contractile vesicle into two +distinct organs at about mid-height of the body, the lower portion +developing a globular cavity like the upper one. Soon after this a +shallow pit opens in the side of the stentor, in a line with the new +vesicle. This pit is the future mouth. A throat or oesophagus is next +fashioned; and all being ready for the accommodation of the new animal +the process of division begins, and goes on so rapidly that it is all +done in about two hours. + +A still more curious animal, in some respects, than either of those we +have just mentioned is the hydra, one of the simplest of the +zoophytes. To all intents and purposes it is nothing but a narrow +sack, about half an inch in length, open at one end, where the mouth +is situated, and attaching itself by the other to pond-lilies, +duck-weeds, or stones on the margins of lakes. Around the mouth it has +from five to eight slender tentacles, which are used as feelers and +for the purpose of seizing the food. What it does with its food after +it has swallowed it is, strange as the statement may sound, a question +to which naturalists have not yet found a satisfactory answer; for the +hydra has no digestive organs, and its stomach is merely a pouch +formed by the folding in of the outer skin. It has no glands, no +mucous membrane, no appliances of any sort for the performance of the +chemical process {236} which we call digestion. You may turn a hydra +inside out and it will get along just as well as it did before, and +swallow its prey with just as good an appetite. The French naturalist +Trembley was the first to notice this remarkable fact. With the blunt +end of a small needle he pushed the bottom of the sack through the +body and out at the mouth, just as you would invert a stocking. He +found that the animal righted itself as soon as it was left alone; so +he repeated the operation, and this time made use of persuasion, in +the form of a bristle run crosswise through the body, to induce the +victim to remain inside out. In the course of a few days its interior +and exterior departments were thoroughly reorganized, and it ate as if +nothing had happened. Trembley next undertook to engraft one +individual upon another! For this purpose he crammed the tail of one +deep down into the cavity of another, and, in order to hold them in +their position, stuck a bristle through both. What was his surprise to +find them, some hours afterward, still spitted upon the bristle, but +hanging _side by side_ instead of one within the other! How they had +got into such a position he could not imagine. He arranged another +pair, and on watching them the mystery was solved. The inner one first +drew up its tail and pushed it out through the hole in the outer one's +side where the bristle entered. Then it pulled its head out after the +tail, and sliding along the spit completely freed itself from its +companion. This it repeated as often as the experiment was tried in +that way. It then occurred to M. Trembley that if the inner hydra were +turned inside out, so as to bring the stomachs of the two animals in +contact, union would take place more readily; and so it proved. The +little creatures seemed much pleased with the arrangement, and made no +attempt to escape. In a short time they were united as one body, and +enjoyed their food in common. + +It was perhaps only natural to expect that animals which care so +little about their individuality that two specimens can be turned into +one, would be equally ready to multiply themselves by the simple +process of being cut to pieces. In other words, you may make one hydra +out of two, or two out of one, just as you please. M. Trembley divided +them in every conceivable manner. He cut them in two, and, instead of +dying, one half shot out a new head and the other developed a new +tail. He sliced them into thin rings, and each slice swam away, got +itself a set of tentacles, and grew into a perfectly formed +individual. He split them into thin longitudinal strips, and each +strip reproduced what was wanting to give it a complete body. Some he +split only part way down from the mouth, and the result was a hydra, +like the fabled monster, with many heads. The famous cat with nine +lives is nothing to these little zoophytes. They seem sublimely +indifferent not only to the most fearful wounds, but even to disease +and, we are tempted to add, decomposition itself. A part of the body +decays, and the hydra simply drops it off, like a worn-out garment, +and lives on as if it had lost nothing. + +If it can do all this, we need not wonder that it can reproduce its +kind by budding. Indeed, after we have seen a living creature split +itself up into a dozen distinct individuals any other process of +generation must seem tame by comparison. At certain seasons of the +year very few hydras can be found which have not one, two, or three +young ones growing out of their bodies. The budding begins in the form +of a simple bulging from the side of the parent, something like a +wart. This is gradually elongated, and after a time tentacles sprout +from the free end, and a mouth is formed. The young is now in a +condition to seek its own prey. Its independence is finally +accomplished by a constriction of the base of the new body at the +point where it is attached to the old stock, until finally it cuts +itself off. Before {237} this separation takes place, however, it has +often begun to reproduce its own young, and so we sometimes see a +large colony of hydras all connected together, like minute branching +waterweed. + +After all, you may say, it is not so very wonderful that a simple +animal like the hydra, which has no intestines, and scarcely any +special organs whatever, should be able to reproduce its lost parts, +or to multiply itself by the simple processes of growth and subsequent +division. Well, then, let us take a more complex creature, and we have +a remarkable example at hand in a certain marine worm called +_myrianida fasciata_. It is an inch or two in length, tapering off +gradually from the head. The body is marked with numerous rings or +joints, attached to which are oar-like appendages, serving not only as +instruments of propulsion but also as gills, or breathing organs. An +intestine extends from the head in a direct course to the posterior. +Blood-vessels are arranged about it like a net-work, and connect with +similar vessels in the gills. It has an organ which serves the purpose +of a heart, a nervous cord swollen at every joint into knots or +ganglions, and, in the head, one principal ganglion, which may be +considered as the brain. Its reproductive organs are situated only in +the posterior rings, and are located there in reference to the +peculiar mode of generation which we are about to describe. The young +worm begins to grow immediately in front of the parent's tail, that is +to say, between the last joint or ring and the next before the last, +and is formed by the successive growth of new rings. Before it is old +enough to be cast off another appears between its anterior end and the +next joint of the old stock; and so on until we have six worms at +once, all strung together behind the parent, and hanging, so to speak, +from one another's tails. They drop off separately, in the order of +their age. Now in this case, you will observe, there must be a +division of several organs--the intestine, the blood-vessels, and the +nervous cord; and each of the six young must develop a heart, a brain, +and a pair of eyes. An odd result of their method of growth (the first +one being formed, you will remember, not behind the parent but +_between_ her last two rings) is that the eldest offspring +appropriates the tail of his mother, while his five brothers and +sisters have to find tails of their own. We are here tempted to +indulge in a curious speculation: this first born produces its young +in the same way itself was produced, and passes on its inherited tail +to the next generation. The eldest born of that generation bequeaths +it to the next, and so on. What becomes of that ancestral tail in the +course of years? Does it at last wear out and drop off? Does the worm +that bears it die after a time without leaving any children? Or is it +possible that the process of entail has been going on without +interruption ever since the year one of the world, and that there may +be a _myrianida fasciata_ now living with a tail as old as creation? +Not very probable, certainly; but if any solution has been offered of +the great tail problem, we do not happen to have heard of it. + +Professor Clark also tried various experiments upon the common flat +worm, or _planaria_, which may be found so readily in our ponds, +creeping over stones and aquatic plants, and is so easily recognized +by its opaque white color, and the liver-colored ramifications of its +intestine. He cut the creature in two, and immediately after the +operation the halves crawled away as if nothing had happened; the +anterior part preceding an ideal tail, and the posterior one following +an equally imaginary head and brain. He watched the pieces from day to +day, and found that each reproduced its missing half by a slow process +of budding and growth. This _planaria_ may be cut into several pieces, +and each will reproduce what is requisite to complete the mangled +organism. If the tail of a lizard be broken off, a {238} new one will +grow; and crabs, lobsters, spiders, etc., are known to replace their +amputated limbs. The instances we now and then meet with of what are +called _monsters_--two-headed dogs, calves with six legs, and, more +rarely, even double-headed human beings, are examples of the +phenomenon of budding--which is very common, by the way, among fishes; +and there is an animalcule called the _amoeba_ which shows a more +remarkable tenacity of life than any of the other creatures we have +mentioned, since you may divide and subdivide it until it is +physically impossible to reduce it to particles any smaller, and yet +each piece will live. + + + +The discovery that animals may originate in so many ways independent +of maternal gestation naturally suggests the inquiry whether further +researches may not develop still other methods of reproduction, in +which the new-born creature shall have no connection whatever with any +previously existing individual. Thus we are brought back to the +question which was thought to have been settled long ago, whether +generation ever takes place spontaneously, as Aristotle and the old +physicists supposed it did. Later naturalists, following the Italian, +Redi, utterly rejected the supposition; but within the present century +it has found many reputable supporters, and Professor Clark is one of +them. When organic matter decays, numbers of _infusoria_, or +microscopic plants and animals, arise in it. Where do they come from? +Do the disorganized particles, set free by the process of +decomposition, combine into new forms, which are then endowed with +life by the direct action of Almighty power; or is the decaying +substance merely the _nest_ in which minute eggs or seeds, borne +thither upon the air, or dropped by insects, find conditions suitable +for their development in the ordinary natural way? The question is not +easily answered. Many of these germs are so excessively minute as to +defy detection. Some of the infusoria are no larger than the +twenty-four-thousandth of an inch in diameter, and it is estimated +that a drop of water might contain five hundred millions of them. It +is obvious that the germs of such little creatures must be invisible +even with the best microscope. The problem can only be solved by +placing a portion of the decomposing matter under such conditions that +any germs it may contain shall infallibly be killed and that none can +possibly reach it; then, if infusoria appear, we shall know that they +have been generated spontaneously. The great difficulty is in securing +these conditions. For the development of the living forms we require +both water and air. How are we to be certain that there are no living +germs in the organic matter before we begin the experiment? that there +are none in the water? that none are brought by the air? The action of +heat has been relied upon for the destruction of germs in the organic +matter and the water, and it has been sought to purify the air from +them by passing it through sulphuric add; but experience has shown +that sulphuric add does not kill the germs; so of course experiments +performed in that way prove nothing. Professor Clark quotes a series +of very delicate experiments tried by Professor Jeffries Wyman, of +Harvard University, which seem to us to come nearer to proving +spontaneous generation than any others with which we are acquainted. +He proceeded in three different methods, as follows: + +1. The organic matter, consisting of a solution of beef or mutton +juice (or, in a few instances, vegetable matter), was placed in a +flask fitted with a cork through which passed a glass tube. The cork +was pushed deeply into the mouth of the flask, and the space above it +was filled with an adhesive cement, composed of resin, wax, and +varnish. The tube was drawn to a narrow neck a little way above the +cork, and bent at right angles, and {239} the end of it inserted in an +iron tube, where it was secured by a cement of plaster of Paris. The +rest of the iron tube was filled with wires, leaving only very narrow +passages between them. The solution in the flask was then boiled--in +some cases as long as two hours--in order to kill any germs which +might be enclosed, and to expel the air. The iron tube and wires at +the same time were heated to redness. When the boiling had continued +long enough the heat was withdrawn from beneath the flask, and the +steam was allowed slowly to condense. As it did so, air flowed in +between the red-hot wires, which had been kept at a temperature high +enough, it was supposed, to destroy any germs in the air that passed +through them. The flask was then hermetically sealed by fusing the +glass tube with the blow-pipe. When opened, several days afterward, it +was found to contain animal life. + +2. A similar solution was placed in a flask the neck of which, instead +of being supplied with a cork and tube, was drawn out and bent at +right angles, and then fitted to the iron tube containing wires. The +experiment was performed as by method No. 1, and with the same result. + +3. That there might be no suspicion of imperfectly sealed joints, a +solution was put into a flask with a narrow neck, and the neck itself +was then closed by fusing the glass. The whole flask was then immersed +in boiling water. At the expiration of a few days living infusoria +were found in two instances out of four. + +Now these experiments undoubtedly prove that generation sometimes +occurs spontaneously, provided it be true, as Professor Clark assumes, +that there was no imperfection in the closing of the flasks (which we +see no reason to doubt), and that the infusorial germs are destroyed +by boiling. We confess that it is hard to believe they could have +survived such a heat as was applied to them in these cases; but is it +certain that they could not? A writer in an English review a few years +ago, whom we believe to have been Mr. G. H. Lewes, announced that he +had boiled certain germs _an hour and three-quarters_, and yet they +remained perfectly unaltered. At most, therefore, we can regard +spontaneous generation as a probable phenomenon. + +Whether spontaneous generation, if it occurs at all, occurs by the +formation of an egg from which the animalcule is hatched, or by the +immediate formation of the adult, Professor Clark does not attempt to +say; but the French naturalist M. Pouchet, who is one of the foremost +advocates of the theory, holds that an egg is produced first. If this +is true we shall have a striking correlative to the proposition with +which we began this paper: not only can living creatures be developed +where no egg has been deposited, but eggs can be produced where there +is no animal to lay them. _Omne ovum e vivo_ will be no more true than +_Omne vivum ex ovo._ + +------ + +{240} + + +From Chambers's Journal + +POOR AND RICH. + + In a shattered old garret scarce roofed from the sky, + Near a window that shakes as the wind hurries by, + Without curtain to hinder the golden sun's shine, + Which reminds me of riches that never were mine-- + I recline on a chair that is broken and old. + And enwrap my chilled limbs--now so aged and cold-- + 'Neath a shabby old coat, with the buttons all torn. + While I think of my youth that Time's footprints have worn. + And remember the comrades who've one and all fled, + And the dreams and the hopes that are dead with the dead. + + But the cracked plastered walls are emblazoned and bright + With the dear blessed beams of the day's welcome light. + My old coat's a king's robe, my old chair is a throne, + And my thoughts are my courtiers that no king could own; + For the truths that they tell, as they whisper to me, + Are the echoes of pleasures that once used to be, + The glad throbbings of hearts that have now ceased to feel, + And the treasures of passions which Time cannot steal; + So, although I know well that my life is near spent, + Though I'll die without sorrow, I live with content. + + Though my children's soft voices no music now lend; + Without wife's sweet embraces, or glance of a friend; + Yet my soul sees them still, as it peoples the air + With the spirits who crowd round my broken old chair. + If no wealth I have hoarded to trouble mine ease, + I admit that I doted on gems rich as these; + And when death snatched the casket that held each fair prize, + It flew to my heart where it happily lies; + So, 'tis there that the utt'rings of love now are said + By those dear ones, whom all but myself fancy dead. + + So, though fetid the air of my poor room may be. + It still has all the odors of Eden for me. + For my Eve wanders here, and my cherubs here sing, + As though tempting my spirit like theirs to take wing. + Though my pillow be hard, where so well could I rest + As on that on which Amy's fair head has been pressed? + So let riches and honor feed Mammon's vain heart, + From my shattered old lodging I'll not wish to part; + And no coat shall I need save the one I've long worn. + Till the last thread be snapped, and the last rent be torn. + +------ + +{241} + + +From The Lamp. + +ALL-HALLOW EVE; +OR, THE TEST OF FUTURITY. + + +BY ROBERT CURTIS. + + +[CONCLUSION.] + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +While the above exploits were being performed by Jamesy Doyle and the +police, a sad scene indeed was being enacted at the bridge. Winny +Cavana, whose bonds had been loosed, had rushed to where Emon lay with +his head in his father's lap, while the two policemen, Cotter and +Donovan, moved up with their prisoner. They not only handcuffed him, +but had tied his legs together, and threw him on the side of the road, +"to wait their convenience," while they rendered any assistance they +could to the wounded man. + +The father had succeeded in stanching the blood, which at first had +poured freely from the wound. With the assistance of one of the +police, while the other was tying the prisoner, he had drawn his son +up into a sitting posture and leaned him against the bank at the side +of the road, and got his arm round him to sustain him. He was not shot +dead; but was evidently very badly wounded. He was now, however, +recovering strength and consciousness, as the blood ceased to flow. + +"Open your eyes, Emon dear, if you are not dead, and look at your own +Winny," she said; "your mad Winny Cavana, who brought you here to be +murdered! Open your eyes, Emon, if you are not dead! I don't ask you +to speak." + +Emon not only opened his eyes, but turned his face and looked upon +her. Oh, the ghastly smile he tried to hide! + +"Don't speak, Emon; but tell me with your eyes that you are not dying. +No, no, Emon--Emon-a-knock! demon as he is, he could not murder you. +Heaven would not permit so much wickedness!" + +Emon looked at her again. A faint but beautiful smile--beautiful now, +for the color had returned to his cheeks--beamed upon his lips as he +shook his head. + +"Yes, yes, he has murdered him," sobbed the distracted father; "and I +pity you, Winny Cavana, as I hope you will pity his poor mother; to +say nothing of myself." + +"No, no, do not say so! He will not die, he _shall_ not die!" And she +pressed her burning that's to his marble forehead. It was smooth as +alabaster, cold as ice. + +"Win--ny Ca--va-na, good-by," he faintly breathed in her ear. "My +days, my hours, my very moments are numbered. I feel death trembling +in every vein, in every nerve. I could--could--have--lived for +you--Winny; but even--to--die for you--is--a blessing, +because--successful. One last request--Winny, my best beloved, is +--all--I have--to ask; spare me--a spot in Rathcash--chapel-yard, in +the space allotted to--the--Cavanas. I feel some wonderful strength +given me just now. It is a special mercy that I may speak with you +before I go. But, Winny, my own precious, dearest love, do not deceive +yourself. If I reach home to receive my mother's blessing before I +die, it is the most--" and he leaned his head against his father's +breast. + +"No more delay!" cried Winny energetically, "Time is too precious to +be lost; bring the cart here, and let us take him home at once, and +send for {242} the doctor. Oh, policeman, one of you is enough to +remain with the prisoner here; do, like a good man, leave your gun and +belts here, and run off across the fields as fast as you can, and +bring Dr. Sweeney to Rathcash house." + +"To Shanvilla," faintly murmured the wounded man; "and bring Father +Farrell." + +"Yes, yes, to Shanvilla, to be sure," repeated Winny; "my selfish +heart had forgotten his poor mother." + +Emon opened his eyes at the word mother, and smiled. It was a smile of +thanks; and he closed them again. + +The policeman had obeyed her request in a moment; and, stripped of ail +incumbrances, he was clearing the hedges, ditches, and drains toward +Dr. Sweeney's. + +They then placed Lennon, as gently as if he were made of wax, into the +cart, his head lying in Winny's lap, and his hand clasped in hers, +while the distracted father led the horse more like an automaton than +a human being. They proceeded at a very gentle pace, for the cart had +no springs, and Winny knew that a jolt might be fatal if the blood +burst forth afresh. The policeman followed with his prisoner at some +distance; and ere long, for the dawn had become clear, he saw his +comrades coming on behind him, a long way off. But there was evidently +a man beside themselves and Jamesy Doyle. He sat down by the side of +the road until they came up. + +How matters stood was then explained to Sergeant Driscoll aside. +Cotter told him he had no hopes that ever Lennon would reach home +alive; that Donovan had gone off across the country for the doctor and +the priest, and his _carabine_ and belts were on the cart. + +"We will take that prisoner from you, Cotter," said Driscoll, "and do +you get on to the cart as fast as you can; you may be of use. I don't +like to bring this villain Murdock in sight of them; you need not say +we have got him at all. We will go on straight to the barrack by the +lower road, and let you go up to Lennon's with the cart. But see here, +Cotter--do not speak to the wounded man at all, and don't let anybody +else speak to him either. We don't want a word from him; sure we all +saw it as plain as possible." + +Cotter then hastened on, and soon overtook the cart. He merely said, +in explanation of being by himself, that his comrades had come up, and +that he had given his prisoner to them and hastened on to see if he +could be of any use. + +Winny soon suggested a use for the kind-hearted man--to help poor Pat +Lennon into the cart, and to lead the horse. This was done without +stirring hand or foot of the poor sufferer; and the father lay at +Emon's other side scarcely less like death than he was himself. + +When they came to the end of the road which turned to Rathcash and +Shanvilla, Winny, as was natural, could have wished to go to Rathcash. +She knew not how her poor father had been left, or what might be his +fate. She could not put any confidence in the assurance of such +ruffians, that a hair of his head should not be hurt; and did not one +of the villains remain in the house? Yes, Winny, one of them _did +remain_ in the house, but he _did no harm to your father_. + +With all her affection and anxiety on her father's account, Winny +could not choose but to go on to Shanvilla. The less moving poor Emon +got the better, and to get from under his head now and settle him +afresh would be cruel, and might be fatal. Winny, therefore, sat +silent as Cotter turned the horse's head toward Shanvilla, where, ere +another half-hour had added to the increasing light, they had arrived. + +Winny Cavana, who knew what a scene must ensue when they came to the +door, had sent on Cotter to the house; the father again taking his +place at the horse's head. He was to tell Mrs. Lennon that an accident +had happened--no, no, not _that_; but that {243} Emon had been hurt; +and that they were bringing him home quietly for fear of exciting him. + +These precautions were of no use. Mrs. Lennon had waited but for the +word "hurt," which she understood at once as importing something +serious. She rushed from the house like a mad woman, and stood upon +the road gazing up and down. Fortunately Winny had the forethought to +stop the cart out of sight of the house to give Cotter time to execute +his mission, and calm Mrs. Lennon as much as possible. It was a lucky +thought, and Cotter, who was a very intelligent man, was equal to the +emergency. + +As Mrs. Lennon looked round her in doubt, Cotter cried out, "Oh, don't +go that road, Mrs. Lennon, for God's sake!" and he pointed in the +direction in which the cart was not. It was enough; the ruse had +succeeded; and Mrs. Lennon started off at full speed, clapping her +hands and crying out: "Oh! Emon, Emon, have they killed you at last? +have they killed you? Oh! Emon, Emon, my boy, my boy!" And she clapped +her hands, and ran the faster. She was soon out of sight and hearing. + +"Now is your time," said Cotter, running back to the cart; "she is +gone off in another direction, and we'll have him on his bed before +she comes back." + +They then brought the cart to the door, and in the most gentle and +scientific manner lifted poor Emon into the house and laid him on his +bed. + +"God bless you, Winny!" he said, stretching out his hand. "Don't, like +a good girl, stop here now. Return to your poor father, who must be +distracted about you. I'm better and stronger, thank God, and will be +able to see you again before I--" + +"Whist, whist, Emon mavourneen, don't talk that way; you are better, +blessed be God! I must, indeed, go home, Emon, as you say, for my +heart is torn about my poor father. God bless you, Emon, my own Emon!" +And she stooped down and kissed his pale lips. + +Cotter and she then left the house and made all the speed they could +toward Rathcash. They had not gone very far when Cotter heard Mrs. +Lennon coming back along the road, and they saw her turn in toward her +own house. + +Bully-dhu having satisfied himself that nothing further was to be +apprehended from the senseless form of a man upon the kitchen floor, +and finding it impossible to burst open the door where his master was +confined, thought the next best thing that he could do was to bemoan +the state of affairs outside the house, in hope of drawing some help +to the spot. Accordingly he took his post immediately at the +house-door, still determined to be on the safe side, for fear the man +was scheming. Here he set up a long dismal and melancholy howl. + +"My father is dead," said Winny; "there is the Banshee." + +"Not at all, Miss Winny; that is a dog." + +"It is all the same; Bully-dhu would not cry that way for nothing; +there is somebody dead, I'm sure." + +"It is because he knew you were gone, Miss Winny, and he did not know +where to look for you; that's all, you may depend." + +"Thank you, Cotter; the dog might indeed do that same. God grant it is +nothing worse!" + +By this time they were at the door, and Cotter followed Bully-dhu into +the house. Winny, without looking right or left, rushed to her +father's room. She found it locked, but, quickly turning the key, she +burst in. It was now broad daylight, and she saw at a glance her +father stretched upon the bed, still bound hand and foot. She flew to +the table, and taking his razor cut the cords. The poor old man was +quite exhausted from suspense, excitement, and the fruitless physical +efforts he had been making to free himself. + +"Thank God, father!" she exclaimed; "I hope you are not hurt." + +{244} + +"No, dear. Give me a sup of milk, or I will choke." + +Poor Winny, in the ignorance of her past habits, called out to Biddy +to bring her some. + +Biddy answered with a smothered cry from the inner room. Cotter flew +to the door and unlocked it. In another moment he had set her free +from her cords, and she darted across the kitchen to minister to the +old man's wants at Winny's direction. + +Poor Bully-dhu then pointed out to Cotter the share he had taken in +the night's work, and it might almost be said quietly "gave himself +up." At least he showed no disposition to escape. He lay down at the +dead man's head, sweeping the floor with an odd wag of his bushy tail, +rather proud than frightened at what he had done. That it was his +work, Cotter could not for a moment doubt. The man's throat had by +this time turned almost black, and there were the marks of the dog's +teeth sunk deep at each side of the windpipe, where the choking grip +of death had prevailed. + +Cotter then brought a quilt from the room where he had released Biddy +Murtagh, and spread it over the corpse, and was bringing Bully-dhu out +to the yard, when he met Jamesy Doyle at the door. Jamesy took charge +of him at once, and brought him round to the yard, where for the +present he shut him up in his wooden house; but he did not intend to +neglect him. + +Jamesy told Cotter that Sergeant Driscoll and his men had taken their +prisoners safe to the barracks, and desired him to tell Cotter to join +them as soon as soon as possible. + +"I cannot join them yet awhile, Jamesy; we have a corpse in the +house." + +"God's mercy! an' shure it's not the poor ould masther?" said Jamesy. + +"No; I don't know who he is. He must have been one of the +depredators." + +"An' th' ould masther done for him!--God be praised? More power to his +elbow!" + +"No, Jamesy, it was not the old master. It was Bully-dhu that choked +him--see here;" and he turned down the quilt. + +"The divil a word of lie you're tellin', sir; dear me, but he gev' him +the tusks in style. Begorra, Bully, I'll give you my own dinner +to-day, an' tomorrow, an' next day for that. See, Mr. Cotter, how the +Lord overtakes the guilty at wanst, sometimes. Didn't he strike down +Tom Murdock wid lightning, an' he batin' me out a horseback? an I'd +never have cum up wid him only for that." + +Cotter could not help smiling at Jamesy's enthusiasm. + +"What are you laughin' at, Mr. Cotter? Maybe it's what you don't give +in to me; but I tell you I seen the flash of lightning take him down +ov the horse, as plain as the daylight. Where's Miss Winny?" + +"Whist, whist, boy, don't be talking that way. Never heed Miss Winny; +she's with her father. I would not like her to see this dead man here; +don't be talking so loud. Is there any place we could draw him into, +until we find out who he is?" + +"An' _I'd_ like to show him to Miss Winny, for Bully-dhu's sake. Will +I call her?" + +"If you do, I'll stick you with this, Jamesy," said Cotter, getting +angry, and tapping his bayonet with his finger. + +"Begorra, an' that's not the way to get me to do anything, I can tell +you; for I--" + +"Well, there's a good boy, James; you have proved your cell one +tonight; and now for God's sake don't fret poor Miss Winny worse than +what she is already, and it would nearly kill her to see this dead man +here now--it would make her think of some one else dead, +Jamesy--_thigum thu_? + +"_Thau_, begorra--you're right enough." + +{245} + +"Where can we bring him to? is there any outhouse or place?" + +"To be sure there is; there's the barn where I sleep; cum out wid him +at wanst. I'll take him by the heels, an' let you dhraw him along the +floore by his shoulders." + +There was a coolness and intrepidity about all Jamesy's acts and +expressions which surprised Cotter. With all his experience he had +never seen the same in so young a boy--except in a hardened villain; +and he had known Jamesy for the last four years to be the very +contrary. Cotter, however, was not philosopher enough to know that an +excess of principle, and a total want of it, might produce the same +intrepidity of character. + +Cotter took the dead man under the shoulders and drew him along, while +Jamesy took him by the feet and pushed him. + +Neither Winny, nor Biddy, nor the old man knew a word about this part +of the performance. Jamesy saw the propriety of keeping it to himself +for the present. Cotter locked the barn-door and took away the key +with him. He told Jamesy that he would find out from the other +prisoner "who the corpse was," and that he would call again with +instructions in the course of the day. He then hastened to the +barrack, and Jamesy went in to see Miss Winny and the ould masther. +The message which Cotter had sent her by Jamesy was this--"To keep up +her heart, and to hold herself in readiness for a visit from the +resident magistrate before the day was over." + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +It was still very early. The generality of the inhabitants were not +yet up, and Winny sighed at the long sad day which was before her. She +had first made her father tell her how the ruffians had served him, +and after hearing the particulars she detailed everything which had +befallen herself. She described the battle at the bridge, as well as +her sobs would permit her, from the moment that Lennon sprang up from +behind the battlement to their rescue until the fatal arrival of the +police, as she called it, upon the approach of whom "that demon fired +his pistol at my poor Emon as close as I am to you, father." + +"Well, well; Winny, don't lave the blame upon the police; he would +have fired at Lennon whether they cum up or not, for Emon never would +have let go his holt." + +"True enough, father. I do not lay it upon them at all. Emon would +have clung to his horse for miles if he had not shot him down." + +"Beside, Jamesy says the police has him fast enough. Isn't that a +mercy at all events, Winny?" + +"It is only the mercy of revenge, father, God forgive me for the +thought. The law will call it justice." + +"And a just revenge is all fair an' right, Winny. He had no pity on an +innocent boy, an' why should you have pity on a guilty villain?" + +"Pity! No, father, I have no pity for him. But I wish I did not feel +so vengeful." + +"But how did the police hear of it, Winny, or find out which way they +went; an' what brought Jamesy Doyle up with them?" + +"We must ask Jamesy himself about that, father," she said; and she +desired Biddy to call him in, for he was with Bully-dhu. + +Jamesy was soon in attendance again, and they made him sit down, for +with all his pluck he looked weary and fatigued. They then asked him +to tell everything, from the moment he first heard the men smashing +the door. + +Jamesy Doyle's description of the whole thing was short and decisive, +told in his own graphic style, with many "begorras," in spite of +Winny's remonstrances. + +"Begorra, Miss Winny, I tould Bully-dhu what they were up to, an' I +let him in at the hall doore, an' {246} when I seen him tumble the +fust man he met, and stick in his windpipe without so much as a growl, +I knew there was one man wouldn't lave that easy, any way; an' I med +off for the polis as fast as my legs and feet could carry me." + +"And how did--how--did--poor Emon hear of it?" sighed Winny. + +"Arra blur-an-ages, Miss Winny, didn't I cut across by Shanvilla, an' +tould him every haporth? Why, miss, he'd murdher me af I let him lie +there dhramin', an' they carrin' you off, Miss Winny." + +"Oh, Jamesy, why did you not go straight for the police, and never +mind Emon-a-knock?" she said. + +"Ah! Winny dear," said her father, "remember that there was nearly +half-an-hour's battle at the bridge before the police came up; and had +your persecutor that half-hour's law, where and what would you be +now?" + +"I did not care. I would have fought my battle alone against twenty +Tom Murdocks. They might have ill-used me, and then murdered me, but +what of that? Emon-a-knock would live, perhaps to avenge me; but +now--now--oh, father, father! I wish he had murdered me along with +Emon. But, God forgive me, indeed I am very sinful; I forgot you, +father dear. Here, Biddy, get the kettle boiling; we all want a cup of +tea;" and she put her handkerchief to her swimming eyes. + +Jamesy had thrown himself in his clothes on some empty sacks in a +corner of the kitchen, saying, "Miss Winny, I'm tired enough to sleep +anywhere, an' I'll lie down here." + +"Hadn't you better go to your own bed in the barn, Jamesy, where you +can take off your clothes? I am sure you would be more comfortable." + +"No, Miss Winny, I'm sure I would not. Beside, the policeman tuck--" +Jamesy stopped himself. "What the mischief have I been saying?" +thought he. + +"The policeman took what, Jamesy?" said Winny. + +"He tuck the key, miss. He said no one should g'win there till he cum +back." + +"Oh, very well, Jamesy; lie down, and let me throw this quilt over +you. But, God's mercy, if here is not a pool of blood! I wonder what +brought it here? Oh, am I doomed to sec nothing but blood--blood? What +is this, Jamesy, do you know?" + +"I do, miss. It was Bully-dhu that cut one of the men when they cum +in; and no cure for him, Miss Winny!" + +"Why, he must have cut him severely, James; the whole floor is covered +with blood." + +"Cut him, is it? Begorra, Miss Winny, he kilt him out-an-out. I may as +well tell you the thruth at wanst." + +"For heaven's sake, you do not mean to say that he actually killed +him, Jamesy?" + +"That's just what I do mane. Miss Winny, an' I may as well tell you, +for Mr. Cotter will be here by-an-bye with the coroner and a jury to +hould an inquest. Isn't he lyin' there abroad in the barn as stiff as +a crowbar, an' as ugly as if he was bespoke, miss? Didn't I help Mr. +Cotter to carry him out, or rather to dhrag him? for begorra he was as +heavy as if he was made of lead!" + +"Fie, fie, James, you should not talk that way of any poor +fellow-being--for shame!" + +"An' a bad fellow-bein' he was, to cum here to carry you away. Miss +Winny, an' maybe to murdher you in the mountain, or maybe worse. My +blessin' on you, Bully-dhu!" + +Winny was shocked at the cool manner in which Jamesy spoke of such a +frightful occurrence. She was afraid she would never make a Christian +of him. + +Cotter and a comrade soon returned and took charge of the body until +the coroner should arrive. They had served summonses upon twelve or +fourteen of the most respectable neighbors--good men and true. They +had ascertained that the deceased was a man named John Fahy, from the +{247} county of Cavan, a reputed Ribbonman. The cart had belonged to +him, but of course there was no name upon it. The news of the whole +affair had already spread like fire the moment the people began to get +about; and two brothers of Fahy's arrived to claim the body before the +inquest was over. + +Jamesy Doyle was the principal witness "before the fact." His evidence +was like himself all over. Having been sworn by the coroner, he did +not think that sufficient, but began his statement with another oath +of his own--the reader knows by this time what it was. The coroner +checked him, and reminded him that he was already on his solemn oath, +and that light swearing of that kind was very unseemly, and could not +be permitted. He advised him to be cautions. + +Jamesy had sense enough to take his advice, although he seldom took +Winny's upon the same subject. + +"When first I heerd the _rookawn_ I got up, an' dhrew on my clothes, +an' cum round the corner of the house. I seen three men stannin' at +the doore, an' I heerd wan of 'em ordher it to be bruck in. I knew +there was but two women an' wan ould man, the masther, in the house, +an' I knew there was no use in goin' in to be murdhered, an' that I +could be of more use a great dale outside. Bully-dhu was roarin' like +a lion in the back yard, an' couldn't get out. I knew Bully was well +able for wan of 'em, any way, if not for two, an' I let him out an' +brought him to the hall-doore. The minit ever I let him out iv the +yard he was as silent as the grave, an' I knew what that meant. Well, +I brought him to the doore, an' pointed to the deceased, for he was +the first man I seen in from me. Well, without with your lave or by +your lave, Bully had him tumbled on the floore, an' his four big teeth +stuck in his windpipe. 'That'll do,' says I, 'as far as wan of ye +goes, any way;' an' I med off for the police. I wasn' much out about +Bully, your worship, for the man never left that antil Mr. Cotter an' +I helped him out into the barn." + +Cotter was then examined. His evidence was "that he had found the +deceased lying dead on the kitchen floor; that the dog on entering lay +down at his head and put his paw upon his breast, as if pointing out +what he had done." That was all he knew about it. + +The doctor was then examined--surgeon, perhaps, we should call him on +this occasion--and swore "that he had carefully examined the deceased; +that he had been choked; and that the wounds in the throat indicated +that they had been inflicted by the teeth of a large, powerful dog; no +cat nor other animal known in this country could have done it." + +This closed the evidence. The coroner made a short charge to the jury, +and the verdict was "that the deceased, John Fahy, as they believed +him to be, had come by his death by being suffocated _and choked_ by a +large black dog called Bully-dhu, belonging to one Edward Cavana, of +Rathcash, in the parish, etc., etc.; but that inasmuch as he, the said +deceased, was in the act of committing a felony at the time, for +which, if convicted in a court of law, he would have forfeited his +life, they would not recommend the dog to be destroyed." + +The coroner said "he thought this was a very elaborate verdict upon so +simple a case; and disagreed with the jury upon the latter part of the +verdict. The dog could not have known that, and it was evident he was +a ferocious animal, and he thought he ought to be destroyed." + +"He did know it, your honor," vociferated Jamesy Doyle. "Didn't I tell +him, and wasn't it I pointed out the deceased to him, and tould him to +hould him? If it was th' ould masther or myself kilt him, you couldn't +say a haporth to aidher of us, let alone the dog." + +If this was not logic for the coroner, it was for the jury, who +refused to change their verdict. But the {248} tack to the verdict, +exonerating poor Bully-dhu, was almost unnecessary, where he had such +a friend in court as Jamesy Doyle; for he, anticipating some such +attempt, had provided for poor Bully's safety. His first act after +Cotter had left in the morning was to get a chum of his, who lived not +for off, to take the dog in his collar and strap to an uncle's son, a +first cousin of his, about seven miles away, to tell him what had +happened, and to take care of the dog until the thing "blew over," and +that "Miss Winny would never forget it to him." + +Billy Brennan delivered the dog and the message safely; "he'd do more +nor that for Miss Winny;" or for that matter for the dog himself, for +they were great play-fellows in the dry grass of a summer's day. Now +it was a strange fact, and deserves to be recorded for the curious in +such things, that although Bully-dhu had never seen Jamesy's cousin in +his life, and that although he was a surly, distant dog to strangers, +he took up with young Barny Foley the moment he saw him. He never +stirred from his side, and did not appear inclined to leave the place. + +Before the inquest had closed its proceedings the two brothers of the +deceased man adverted to had arrived to take away the dead body. It +was well for poor Bully-dhu, after all, that Jamesy had been so +thoughtful, although it was quite another source of danger he had +apprehended. The two Fahys searched high and low for the dog, one of +them armed secretly with a loaded pistol, but both openly with huge +crab-tree sticks to beat his brains out, in spite of coroner, +magistrate, police, or jury. But they searched in vain. They offered +Jamesy, not knowing the stuff he was made of, a pound-note "to show +them where the big black dog was." His answer, though mute, was just +like him. He put his left thumb to the tip of his nose, his right +thumb to the little finger of the left hand, and began to play the +bagpipes in the air with his fingers. + +They pressed it upon him and he got vexed. + +"Begorra," said be, "af ye cum here to-night after midnight to take +Miss Winny away, I'll show him to you, an' maybe it wouldn't be worth +the coroner's while to go home." + +"He may stay where he is, for that matther," said one of the brothers. +"He'll have work enough tomorrow or next day at Shanvilla;" and they +turned away. + +"Ay, and the hangman from the county of _Cavan_ will have something to +do soon afther," shouted Jamesy after them, who was never at a loss +for an answer. He had the last word here, and it was a sore one. + +As the brothers Fahy failed in their search for Bully, they had +nothing further that they dare vent their grief and indignation upon. +It was no use in bemoaning the matter there amongst unsympathizing +strangers; so they fetched the cart to the barn-door and laid the +corpse into it, covering it with a white sheet which they had brought +for the purpose. + +"Will I lind you a hand, boys?" said Jamesy, as they were struggling +with the weight of the dead man at the barn-door. + +The scowl he got from one of the brothers would have discomfited a boy +less plucky or self-possessed than Jamesy Doyle; but he had not said +it in irony. No one there appeared inclined to give any help, and +Jamesy actually did get under the corpse, and "_helped_ him into the +cart," as he said himself. + +The unfortunate men then left, walking one at each side of their dead +brother. And who is there, except perhaps Jamesy Doyle, who would not +pity them as they rumbled their melancholy way down the boreen to the +road? + +{249} + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +About two hours later in the day "the chief" arrived to "visit the +scene," as he was bound to do before he made his report. + +He was received courteously and with respect by Winny Cavana, who +showed him into the parlor. He considerately began by regretting the +unfortunate and melancholy occurrence which had taken place; but of +course added, the satisfaction it was to him, indeed that it must be +to every one, that the perpetrators had been secured, particularly the +principal mover in the sad event. + +Winny made no remark, and "the chief" then requested her to state in +detail what had occurred from the time the men broke into the house +until the shot was fired which wounded the man. She seemed at first +disinclined to do so; but upon that gentleman explaining that she +would be required to do so on her oath, when the magistrate called to +take her information, she merely sighed, and said: + +"I suppose so; indeed I do not see why I should not." + +She then gave him a plain and succinct account as far as their conduct +to herself was concerned, and referred him to her father and the +servants for the share they had taken toward them. + +He then obtained from old Cavana, Biddy Murtagh, and Jamesy Doyle what +they knew of the transaction; and thus fully primed and loaded for his +report, he left, telling Winny Cavana "the stipendiary magistrate had +left home the day before, but that he would be back the next day; and +she might expect an official visit from him, as he would make +arrangements with him that she should not be brought from her home, +when no doubt the prisoners would be remanded for the doctor's report +of the wounded man." + +The morning after "the chief" had been at Rathcash house, Winny +Cavana, almost immediately after breakfast, told Jamesy Doyle to get +ready and come with her to Shanvilla. She was anxious to ascertain +from personal knowledge how poor Emon was going on. She was distracted +with the contradictory reports which Biddy Murtagh brought in from +time to time from the passers-by upon the road. Winny had little, if +any, hope at all that Edward Lennon would survive. She had been +assured by Father Farrell, in whose truth and experience she placed +the greatest confidence, that it was _impossible_, although he might +linger for a few days. The doctor, too, had pronounced the same solemn +doom. Her thoughts as she hastened toward Shanvilla were full of awe +and _determination_. She had spent the night, the entire night, for +she had never closed an eye, in laying down a broad short map of her +future life, and it was already engraven on her mind. She had been +clever in drawing such things at the school where she had him been +educated, and her thoughts now took that form. + +Her poor father while he lived; herself before and after his death; +the Lennons one and all; Kate Mulvey, Phil M'Dermott, Jamesy Doyle, +Biddy Murtagh, and Bully-dhu were the only spots marked upon the map; +but they were conspicuous, like the capital towns of counties. There +was but one river on the map, and it could be traced by Winny's tears. +It was the great river of "the Past," and rose in the distant +mountains of her memory which hemmed in this map of her fancy. It +flowed first round old Ned and the Lennons, who were bounded by Winny +on the north, south, east, and west. It passed by Kate Mulvey and Phil +M'Dermott, and thence passing by Jamesy Doyle, Biddy Murtagh, and +Bully-dhu, it emptied itself into the Irish ocean of Winny's +affectionate heart. + +Winny knew that she would meet Father Farrell at Emon's bedside; he +scarcely ever left it; and she knew {250} that he would not deceive +her as to his real state. She knew, too, that he would not refuse her +a sincere Christian advice and counsel upon the sudden resolve which +had taken possession of her heart. + +Father Farrell saw her coming from Emon's window, and went to meet her +at the door. They stood in the kitchen alone. The poor father and +mother had been kept out of Emon's room by the priest, and were +bewailing their fate in their own room. + +"I am glad you are come, Winny, dear," said he. "The poor fellow has +not ceased to speak of you and pray for you from the first, when he +does transgress his orders not to speak at all." + +"How is he, oh, how is he, Father Farrell?" + +"Stronger just now, but dying, Winny Cavana. Let nothing tempt you to +deceive yourself. He has been so much stronger for the last hour or so +that I was just going to send my gig for yon. He said it would soothe +his death-bed, which he knows he is on, Winny, to see you and have +your blessing." + +"He shall have my blessing, and I shall claim every right to give it +to him. Father Farrell," she added, solemnly, but with a full, +untrembling tone, "will you marry me to Edward Lennon?" + +The priest almost staggered back from her for a moment. + +"Yes, Father Farrell, you have heard aright, and I solemnly and +sincerely repeat the question. Listen: You must know that never on +this earth will I wed any other. I shall devote myself and the greater +portion of any wealth I may possess to the church for charitable +purposes after Edward Lennon, my future husband--future here and +hereafter--is dead. I wish to call him husband by that precious right +which death will so soon rob me of. Even so, Father Farrell; give me +that right, short though it be. It will enable me legally to provide +for his honest, stout-hearted father and his broken-hearted mother, +without the lying lips of slander doubting the motive. Oh, Father +Farrell, it is the only consolation left me now to hope for, or in +your power to bestow." + +The priest was struck dumb. Her eyes, her breath, pleaded almost more +than her words. + +Father Farrell sat down upon a form. + +"Winny Cavana," he said, "do not press me--that is, I mean, do not +hurry me. The matter admits of serious consideration, and may not be +altogether so unreasonable or extraordinary as it might at first +appear. But I say that it requires consideration. Walk abroad for a +few minutes and let me think." + +"No, father. You may remain here for a few minutes and think. Let me +go in and see my poor Emon." + +"Yes, yes, you shall; but I must go in along with you, Winny. I can +come out again if I find that more consideration is necessary." + +Winny saw that she had gained her point. They then entered the room, +and Emon cast such a look of gratitude and love upon Winny as calmed +every doubt upon the priest's mind, for he was afraid that Emon +himself would object, and that the scene would injure him. + +Winny was soon at Emon's side, with his hand clasped in hers. + +"You are come, Winny dear, to bid me a final good-by--in this world," +he murmured. "God bless you for your goodness and your love for me!" + +"I am come, Emon dear, to fulfil that love in the presence of heaven, +and with Father Farrell's sanction--am I not, Father Farrell?" + +"I never doubted it, Winny dear." + +"And you shall not doubt it now. You shall die declaring it. Emon-- +Emon, my own Emon-a-knock, I am come to claim the promise you gave me +to make me your wife." + +"Great God, Winny I are you mad?--she not mad. Father Farrell?" + +{251} + +"No, Emon dear, she really is not mad. She will devote herself and her +whole future life to charity and the love of a better world than this. +She can do that not only as well, but better, in some respects, as +your widow than otherwise. I have considered the matter, and I cannot +see that there are any just reasons to deny her request." + +"Then I shall die happy, though it be this very night. But oh, Winny, +Winny, think of what you are about; time will soften your grief, and +you may yet be happy with ano--" + +"Stop, Emon dear--not another word; for here, before heaven and Father +Farrell, I swear never shall I marry any one in this world but you. +Here, Father Farrell, begin; here is a ring you gave me yourself, +Emon, and although not a wedding-ring it will do very well--we will +make one of it." + +Father Farrell then brought in Emon's father and mother, and married +Winny Cavana to the dying man. + +She stooped down and kissed his pallid lips. Big drops of sweat burst +out upon his forehead, and Father Farrell saw that the last moment was +at hand. Winny held his hand between both hers, and said, "Emon, you +are now mine--mine by divine right, and I resign you to the Lord." And +she looked up to heaven through the roof, while the big tears rolled +down her pale cheeks. + +"Winny," said Emon, in a solemn but distinct voice, "I now die happy. +For this I have lived, and for this I die. I cannot count on even +hours now; my moments are numbered. I feel death trembling round my +heart. But you have calmed its approach, Winny dear. Your love and +devotion at a moment like this is the happiest pang that softens my +passage to the grave. I can now claim a right to what you promised me +as a favor--my portion of your space in Rathcash chapel-yard. God +bless you, Winny dear!--Good-by--my--wife!" + +Yes, Emon had lived and had died for the love of her who was _now his +widow_. + +As Emon had ceased to speak, a bright smile broke over his whole +countenance, and he rendered his last sigh into the safe-keeping of +his guardian angel, until the last great day. + +Winny knew that he was dead, though his breath had passed so gently +forth that he might have been only falling asleep. She continued to +hold his hand, and to gaze upon his still features, while Father +Farrell's lips moved in silent prayer, more for the living than the +dead. + +"Come, Winny," he at last said, "you cannot remain here just at +present. Come along with me, and I will bring you in my gig to your +father's house, where I will tell him all myself." + +"Oh, thank you, thank you, Father Farrell," she said, turning +resignedly with him. "Tell poor Pat Lennon what has happened; their +pity for me as a companion in their grief may help to soften their +own. Tell him, of course, Father Farrell, that I shall take all the +arrangements of the funeral upon myself--God help them and me!" + +As they came from the dead man's room they met Pat Lennon in the +kitchen, and Winny, throwing her arms round his neck, caught the big +salt tears which were rolling down his face upon her quivering lips. + +"I have a right to call you father now," she exclaimed. "You have lost +a son, but I will be your daughter," and she kissed him again and +again. + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +On their way to Rathcash, Winny in the first instance told the priest +that "of course her poor husband should be buried in Rathcash +chapel-yard, and, as a matter in which she could not interfere, by +Father Roche." Here she stopped, but the kind-hearted priest took her +up at once. + +{252} + +"Of course, my dear child," he said, "that will be quite right. +Indeed, Winny, I should not wish to be the person so soon to add that +sad ceremony to the still sadder one I was engaged in to-day." + +"Before God or man, Father Farrell, you will never have cause to +regret that act. It was my own choosing after deliberate +consideration, and I was best judge of my own feelings. I _can_ be +happy now. I never _could_ be happy if it were otherwise." + +"God grant it, my love," said the priest. + +"But still, Father Farrell," she continued, "I have something more for +you to do for me. Will you not, like a good man, take all the +arrangement of the funeral upon yourself? I will pay every penny of +the expenses, and let them not be niggardly. Thank God, Father +Farrell, I can do so now without reproach." + +The kind, sympathizing priest engaged to do everything which was +requisite in the most approved of manner. The more he reflected upon +what he had done, the less fault he had to find with himself. There +was a calm, resigned tone about all that Winny now said very different +from what he might have anticipated from his knowledge of her temper +and disposition, had the fatal moment taken place when the shot was +fired, or even subsequently before she became Edward Lennon's wife. +Bitter revenge, he thought, would have seized her soul toward the man +who had deprived her of all hope or source of happiness in this world. +Now the only time she trusted her tongue to speak of him was an +exclamation--"May God forgive him!" + +They soon arrived at Rathcash house, where Father Farrell paid a long +visit to old Ned Cavana. His kindness quite gained upon the old man, +and, before he left, he acquainted him with the facts of his +daughter's position and the death of her husband. + +The old man sat silent for some time after the truth had been made +known to him. Winny stood hoping for a look of encouragement and +forgiveness; but the old man gave it not. At length, with that +impatience habitual to her disposition, she rushed into his arms and +wept upon his breast. + +"Oh, father!" she exclaimed, "I could never be the wife of any man +living after poor Emon's death in defence of my life; ay, more than my +life, of my honor." + +"But oh, Winny, Winny! to sacrifice yourself for a man so near the +grave! There was no hope for him, I heerd." + +"None, father. I was aware of that. Had there been, I should have +waited patiently. I told Father Farrell here my plans, and the same +thing as swore that I would not alter them. He will now tell them to +you, father dear; and I shall lie down for a couple of hours, for +indeed I want rest of both body and mind." + +She then kissed her father again and again, and blessed him, or rather +she prayed God to do so, and went to her room. + +Father Farrell then explained all Winny's views to her distracted +father, observing, as he had been enjoined to do, the tenderest love +and respect for the old man; taking nothing "for granted;" but at the +same time showing the utmost confidence that all matters would still +be arranged for his daughter in the same manner he had often explained +to her to be his intention. "One step she was determined on," Father +Farrell said; "and that was to join a religious sisterhood of charity +in the north. Nothing should ever tempt her to marry." + +"I'll sell this place at wance," said old Ned. "It's not a month since +I had a rattlin' bid for it; but my landlord--and he's member for the +county, you know--tould me with his own lips, that if ever I had a +mind to part with it, he'd give me a hundred pounds more for it than +any one else." + +"That was Winny's wish, Ned; and that you should remove with her to +the north, where she would settle you comfortably, and where she could +{253} see you almost every day in the week." + +"Almost," repeated old Ned, sorrowfully. + +"Well, perhaps every day, Ned, for that matter." + +"Well, Father Farrell, I would not wish to stay here any longer afther +what has happened. I'll sell the place out an' out at wance. I have +nothing to do but to write to my landlord. I could not bear to be +lookin' across at Mick Murdock's afther what tuck place. I think my +poor Winny is right; an' that it was the Lord put it all into her +head. Athen, Father Farrell, maybe it was yourself laid it down for +the little girl?" + +"No, Ned; she laid it all down for me. I was going to reason with her +at first, but she put her hand upon my mouth, and told me to stop; +that nothing should alter her plans. I considered her words, Ned, for +a while, and I gave in; not on account of her determination, but +because I thought she was right. And I think so still; even to the +marrying of Emon on his death-bed." + +"Indeed, Father Farrell, you have aised my mind. Glory be to God that +guided her!" + +"Amen," said the priest. + +Father Farrell had now in the kindest manner dealt with old Ned +Cavana, according to Winny's wishes and instructions; so that it was +an easy matter for Winny herself on that evening, when she had joined +her father after a refreshing sleep, to explain more in detail her +intentions as regarded herself, and her wishes as regarded her +friends--those capitals of counties which were marked on the map of +her imagination. + +Old Ned was like a child in her hands; and no mother ever handled her +first-born babe more fondly than Winny dealt with her poor old father. + +"Ducks an' dhrakes iv it, Winny asthore; ducks an' dhrakes iv it, +Winny dear! Isn't it all your own; what do I want with it, mavrone, +but to see you happy? an' haven't you laid out a plan for both +yourself an' myself that can't be bet, Winny mavoureen?" + +The old man was perfectly satisfied with the map, and studied it so +well that he had it by heart before he went to bed, and could have +told you the boundaries of all Winny's wishes to the breadth of a +hair, as he kissed her for the last time that night. + +I will spare the reader a detail of the melancholy _cortège_ of poor +Emon-a-knock's funeral, which proceeded from Shanvilla to Rathcash +chapel-yard the day but one after. + +Winny had expressed a wish to attend it, but had yielded to the joint +advice of Father Farrell and Father Roche to resist the impulse. + +Emon-a-knock had been well and truly loved in life, and was now +sincerely regretted in death. Father Farrell, at the head of the +procession, was met by Father Roche bare-headed at the chapel-gate of +Rathcash, and the melancholy ceremony was performed amidst the silent +grief of the immense crowd around. Poor Emon's last wish was complied +with, and he now occupied his last resting-place with the Cavanas of +Rathcash. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +It was still about an hour after noon when Winny beheld from the +parlor window at which she stood a very exciting cavalcade upon the +road, slowly approaching the house. At once she became acquainted with +the whole concern. "The chief" had fore-warned her that she might +expect a visit from the magistrate the moment he returned; and her +intelligence at once recognized the addition of the police and +prisoners some distance in rear of the car. + +Winny's heart beat quick and high as she saw them draw nigh and turn +up the lane. It would be mock heroism to say that it did not. She knew +{254} that Tom Murdock, the murderer of her husband, must be one of +the prisoners, but she did not know why they were bringing him +there--for the police had now made the turn. She thought the +magistrate might have spared her that fresh excitement--that renewal +of her hate. But the magistrate was one of those who had anticipated +the law by his sense of justice and his practice. He was one who gave +every one of his majesty's subjects fair play, and it was therefore +his habit to have the accused face to face with the accuser when +informations were taken and read. + +Poor Winny was rather fluttered and disturbed when they entered, +notwithstanding "the chief" had considerately prepared her for the +visit. She did not lose her self-possession, however, so much as to +forget the respect and courtesy due to gentlemen, beside being +officers of the law. She asked them down into the parlor, and +requested of them to be seated. They accepted her civility in silence, +seeing enough in her manner to show them that she was greatly +distressed, and required a little time to compose herself'. She was, +however, the first to speak. + +"I suppose, gentlemen, you are come respecting this sad affair. I told +this gentleman here all I knew about it yesterday." + +"Yes, but matters are still worse today, although there was no hope +even then that they would be better. Of course it will relieve you so +far at once to tell you that we are aware of the position in which you +now stand toward the deceased." + +"Yes, sir. It was with a wish that the world might know it I took the +step I did. I had Father Farrell's approval of it, and my own +parish-priest's as well; but subsequently--" + +"My good girl, we did not come here to question the propriety or +otherwise of either your actions or your motives. Nor do I for one +hesitate to say that I believe both to have been unexceptionable. But +it will be necessary that you should make an information upon oath as +to what took place from the first moment the men came to the door, +until the shot was fired by which Edward Lennon came by his death." + +"I suppose, sir, you must have much better evidence than mine as to +the firing of the shot. I can only swear to the fact of two men having +tied me up and carried me away on a cart, and that there was a third +man on horseback with a mask upon his face; that when we came to Boher +bridge, the deceased Edward Lennon and his father came to our rescue; +that there was a long and distracting struggle at the bridge, which +lasted with very doubtful hopes of success for my deliverance until +Jamesy Doyle, our servant-boy, came up with the police; that the man +on horseback with the mask, whom I verily believe to have been Thomas +Murdock, turned to fly; that the deceased Edward Lennon fastened in +his horse's bridle to prevent him; that a deadly struggle ensued +between them, and that the man on horseback fired at the deceased, who +fell, I may say, dead on the road. The sight left my eyes, sir, and +except that we brought the dying man home on the cart, I know no more +about it of my own knowledge, sir." + +"A very plain, straightforward, honest story as I ever heard," said +the magistrate. "But it will be necessary for you, when upon your +oath, to state whether you know, that is, whether you recognized, the +man on horseback at time." + +"I could not recognize his features, sir, on account of the mask he +wore; but I did recognize his voice as that of Tom Murdock, and I know +his figure and general appearance." + +"That will do now, Mrs. Lennon. I shall only trouble you to repeat +slowly and distinctly what you have already said, so that I can write +it down." + +The magistrate then unlocked his leather writing-case, took out the +necessary forms for informations, and was {255} not long embodying +what Winny had to say in premier shape. + +He then went through the same form with old Ned, with Biddy Murtagh, +and with Jamesy Doyle. + +When the magistrate had all the informations taken and arranged, he +directed Sergeant Driscoll to bring in the prisoners, that he might +read them over and swear the several informants in their presence. +Winny became very nervous and fidgety, and would have left the room, +but the magistrate assured her that it was absolutely necessary that +she should remain, at least while her own informations were being +read. He would read them first, and she might then retire. He +regretted very much that it was necessary, but he would not detain her +more than a couple of minutes at most. + +Tom Murdock and the other prisoner were then brought in; and Winny +having identified the other man, her informations were read in a loud, +distinct voice by the magistrate, and she acknowledged herself bound, +etc, etc. + +"You may now retire, Mrs. Lennon," said the magistrate; and she +hastened to leave the room. + +Tom Murdock stood near the door out of which she must pass, his hands +crossed below his breast in consequence of the handcuffs. He knew that +there was no chance of escape, no hope of an alteration or mitigation +of his doom in this world. Everything was too plain against him. There +were several witnesses to his deed of death, and the damning words by +which it was accompanied, and he knew that the rope must be his end. +Well, he had purchased his revenge, and he was willing to pay for it. +He determined, therefore, to put on the bravado, and glut that revenge +upon his still surviving victim. + +"Emon-a-knock is dead. Miss Cavana," said he, as Winny would have +passed him to the door, her eyes fastened on the ground; "but not +buried yet", he added, with a sardonic smile. "I wish I were free of +these manacles, that I might follow his _remains_ to Shanvilla +chapel-yard." + +"You would go wrong," she calmly reply. "He is indeed dead, but not +buried yet. But he is my dead husband, and will lie with the Cavanas +in the chapel-yard of Rathcash, and rise again with them; and I would +rather be possessed of the inheritance of the six feet of grass upon +his grave than be mistress of Rathcash, and Rathcashmore to boot. +Where will you be buried, Tom Murdock? Within the precincts of--the +jail? To rise with-but no! I shall not condemn beyond the grave; may +God forgive you! I cannot." + +Even Tom Murdock's stony heart was moved. "Winny Cavana, do you think +God can?" he said, turning toward her; but she had passed out of the +door. + +The magistrate then read the informations of the other witnesses, +while Tom Murdock and the other prisoner, stood apparently listening, +though they heard not a word. + +Jamesy Doyle's informations were word for word characteristic of +himself. He insisted upon having the flash of lightning inserted +therein, as an undoubted fact, "if ever he saw one knock a man down in +his life." + +The magistrate and "the chief" had then some conversation with old Ned +and Winny, who had returned at their request to the parlor. It was of +a general character, but still respecting the melancholy occurrence, +or indeed occurrences, the magistrate said, for he had heard of the +death of the man who had been killed by the "watch-dog." Ere they left +they took Jamesy aside upon this subject, as the only person who knew +anything of this part of the business, and the magistrate requested +him to state distinctly what he knew of the transaction. + +Jamesy was _distinct_ enough, as the reader will believe, from the +specimens he has already had of his style of communicating facts. + +"Tell me, my good boy," said the magistrate, "did you _set_ the dog at +{256} the deceased?" laying a strong emphasis on the word. + +"Beghorra, your honor, Bully-dhu didn't want any settin' at all. The +minnit he seen the man inside in the kitchen, he stuck in his thrapple +at wanst. I knew he'd hould him till I come back, an' I med off for +the police." + +"Are you aware, my young champion, that if you set the dog at the +deceased you would be guilty of manslaughter at least, if not murder?" + +"Of murdher, is id? Oh, tare anages, what's this for? Begorra, af that +be law it isn't justice. Didn't they tie th' ould masther neck an' +heels? Didn't they tie Miss Winny and carry her off to murdher her, or +maybe worse? Didn't they tie Biddy Murtagh? and wouldn't they ha' tied +me af they could get hoult of me? an' would you want Bully-dhu to sit +on his boss, lookin' on at all that, your honor?" + +"That may be all true, Jamesy, but I do not think the law would +exonerate you, for all that, if you set the dog at the deceased man." + +"Well, begorra, I pointed at the man, your honor; but I tell you +Bully-dhu wanted no settin' at him at all; af he did I'd have given it +to him; and I think the law would onerate me for that same. See here +now, your honor. Af th' ould masther had a double-barrel gun, an' shot +the two men as dead as mutton that was goin' to tie him up, wouldn't +the law be well plaised wid him? and if I had a pistol, an' shot every +man iv 'em, wouldn't your honor make a chief iv me at least, instead +of sending me to jail? and why wouldn't Bully-dhu, who had on'y a pair +of double-barrel tusks, do his part an' help us? I'm feedin' an' +taichin' that dog, your honor, since he was a whelp, an' he never +disappointed me yet--there now!" + +There was certainly natural logic in all this, which the magistrate, +with all his experience of the law, found it difficult to contradict. +A notion had come into his head at one time that if Jamesy Doyle had +set the dog at John Fahy, he might be guilty of his death, +notwithstanding the said John Fahy had been committing a felony at the +time. But there was no proof that he had set the dog at the man beyond +his own admission, and the question had not been raised. Jamesy was +willing to avow his responsibility, as far as it went, in the most +open and candid manner, and not only that, but to _justify_ it, which +he had indeed done in a most extraordinary, clever manner. Then what +had been his conduct all through? Had it not been that of a +courageous, faithful boy, who had risked his own life in obstructing +the escape of the murderer? and was he not the most material witness +they had--the only one who had never lost sight of the man who had +shot Edward Lennon, until he himself had secured him for the police? +"No, no," reflected the magistrate; "it would be absurd to hold Jamesy +Doyle liable for anything, but the most qualified approbation of his +conduct from first to last." + +"Well, Jamesy," said he, out of these thoughts, "we will take your own +opinion in favor of yourself for the present. There is no doubt of +your being forthcoming at the next assizes?" + +"Begorra, your honor, I'll stick to the ould masther and Miss Winny, +an' I don't think they're likely to lave this." + +"That will do, Jamesy. Come, Mr.----, I think we have taken up almost +enough of these poor people's time. We may be going." + +A word or two about old Mick Murdock ere we close this chapter, as the +reader, not having seen or heard of him for some days, will no doubt +be curious to know what he had been doing, and how he comported +himself during so trying and exciting a scene. + +During the period which Tom had spent in the obscure little +public-house {257} upon the mountain road in the county Cavan, his own +report that, he had gone to the north had done him no service; for the +addition which he had tacked to it, about "going to get married to a +rich young lady," was not believed by a single person for whose +deception it had been spread abroad. That sort of thing had been so +often repeated without fulfilment that people reversed the cry of the +wolf upon the subject. + +There was nothing now for it with those to whom Tom was indebted but +to go to his father, in hopes of some arrangement being made to even +secure them in their money. Several bills of exchange--some overdue, +and some not yet at maturity--with his name across them, were brought +to old Mick for sums varying from ten to fifteen and twenty pounds. +Old Mick quietly pronounced them one and all to be _forgeries_. Tom +and he had had some very sharp words before he went away. He had +called the poor old man a "----old niggard" to his face, and he heard +the words "cannot lost very long," as Tom slapped the door behind him. + +Old Mick would have only fretted at all this had his son returned in a +reasonable time to his home, and, as usual, made promises of +amendment, or had even written to him. It was the first time that ever +a forged acceptance had been presented to him for payment, and Tom's +prolonged absence without any preconcerted object to account for it +weighed heavily upon the old man's heart as to his son's real +character. Tom was all this time, as the reader is aware, planning a +bold stroke to secure Winny Cavana's fortune to pay off these +forgeries. But we have seen with what a miserable result. + +It was impossible to hide the glaring fact of Tom Murdock's +apprehension and committal to jail upon the dreadful charge of murder +from his father. It rang from one end of the parish to the other. But +instead of rushing to meet his son, clapping his hands, and +exclaiming, "Oh! wiristhrue, wiristhrue! what's this for?" poor old +Mick was completely prostrated by the news; and there he lay in his +bed, unable to move hand or foot from the poignancy of his grief and +disgrace. + +If Tom Murdock has broken his poor old father's heart, and he never +rises from that bed, it is only another item in his great account. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +The reader will recollect that the incidents recorded in the two last +chapters took place toward the latter end of June. We will, therefore, +have time, before the assizes come on, to let him know how far Winny's +fancy map was perfected. + +For herself, then, first. She had determined to become a member of a +convent in the north of Ireland, giving up the world with all its +vanities--she knew nothing of its pomps--and devoting her time, her +talents, and whatever money she might finally possess, to religious +and charitable purposes. She had not delayed long after the magistrate +and "the chief" had left, and she had experienced a refreshing sleep, +in taking her father into her confidence to the fullest extent of her +intuitions, not only as regarded herself, but with respect to those +friends whom she had set down upon the map to be provided for. + +"Father," she said, continuing a conversation, "there is no use in +your moving such a thing to me. It is no matter at what time you +project it for me; my mind is made up beyond even the consideration of +the question. I will never marry. Do not, like a dear good father that +you have ever been, move it to me any more." + +"Indeed, Winny, I could not add a word more than I have already sed; +an' if that fails to bring you round, {258} share I'm dumb, Winny +asthore. God's will be done! I'm dumb." + +"It is his will I am seeking, father. What matter if we are the last +of the Cavanas, as you say? Beside, my children would not be Cavanas; +recollect that, father." + +"I know that, Winny jewel; but they'd be of th' ould stock all the +same. Their grandfather would be a Cavana, if he lived to see them." + +"Be thankful for what you have, father dear. There never was a large +clan of a name but some one of them brought grief to it." + +"Ay, Winny asthore; but there is always wan that makes up for it by +their superior goodness. Look at me that never had but the wan, an' +wasn't she, an' isn't she, a threasure to me all the days of my life? +Look at that, Winny." + +"And there is your next-door neighbor, father, never had but the one, +and instead of a treasure, has he not been a curse? Look you at that, +father." + +Old Ned was silent for some moments, and Winny did not wish to +interrupt his thoughts. She hoped he was coming quite round to her way +of thinking with respect to her never "getting married;" and she was +right. + +"Well, Winny asthore," he said, after a pause, "shure you're doin' a +good turn for your sowl hereafther at any rate; an' I'll be led an' +sed by your own sinse of goodness in the matther. For myself, Winny, +wheresomever you go I'll go, where I'll see you sometimes--as often as +you can, Winny. Be my time long or short, I know that you will never +see me worse, if not betther nor what I always was. But it isn't aisy +to lave this place, Winny asthore, where I'm livin' since I was the +hoith of your knee with your grandfather an' your grandmother--God +rest their sowls! There isn't a pebble in the long walk in the garden, +nor a pavin'-stone in the yard, that I couldn't place upon paper +forenent you there this minnit, and tell you the color of them every +wan. There's scarcely a blade of grass in the pasthure-fields that I +couldn't remember where it grows in my dhrames. There isn't a +furze-blossom in the big ditch but what I'd know it out iv the bud it +cum from. There isn't a thrush nor a blackbird about the place but +what I know themselves an' their whistles as well as I know your own +song from Biddy Murtagh's or Jamesy Doyle's. Not a robin-redbreast in +the garden, Winny, that doesn't know me as well as I know you; an' I +could tell you the difference between the very chaffinches--I could, +Winny, I could." + +"I know all that, father dear, and I know it will not be easy to break +up all them happy thoughts in your mind. But then you know, father +dear, I could not stop here looking across at the house where that man +lived. God help me, father, I do not know what to do!" + +Poor old Ned saw that she was distressed, and was sorry he had drawn +such a picture of his former happiness at Rathcash. The recollection +of these little matters had run upon his tongue, but it was not with +any intention of using them as an argument to change Winny's plans. + +"Winny," he said, "I didn't mane to fret you; shure I know what you +say is all thrue. I could not stop here myself no more nor what you +could, Winny, afther what has happened. Dear me, Winny jewel, how soon +you seen through that fellow, an' how glad I am that you didn't give +in to me! But now, Winny asthore, let us quit talking of him, and +listen to what I have to say to you. 'Tis just this. My landlord, who +you know is member for the county, tould me any time I had a mind to +sell my intherest in Rathcash, that he'd give me a hundred pounds more +for it than any one else. I'll write to him tomorrow, plaise God, +about it. You know Jerry Carty? Well, he is afther offerin' me seven +hundred {259} pounds into my fist for my good-will of the place. As +good luck would have it, I did not put any price upon it when my +landlord spoke to me about sellin' it. I can tell him now that I have +a mind to sell it, an' I won't hide the raison aidher. I can let him +know what Carty is willin' to give me for it, an' he's sure to give me +eight hundred pounds. You know, Winny, that your six hundred pounds is +in the bank b'arin' intherest for you, an' what you don't dhraw is +added to it every half year. But that's naidher here nor there, Winny, +for it will be all your own the very moment this place is sould, an', +as I sed before, you may make ducks and dhrakes iv it. Shure I know, +Winny, that'll you never see me want for a haporth while I last, be it +long or short. But, Winny dear, let us live in the wan house; that's +all I ax, mavourneen macree." + +"That will be about fourteen hundred pounds in all, father." + +"A thrifle more nor that, I think, Winny. Maybe you did not know how +much or how little it was, when you laid it out the way you tould me." + +"No, not exactly, father; but I knew I must have been very much within +the mark; I took care of that." + +"Go over it again for me, Winny dear, af it wouldn't be too much +throuble." + +"Not in the least, father. You know I took Kate Mulvey first, and +determined to settle three hundred pounds upon her for a fortune +against 'she meets with some young man,' as the song says. And I +believe, father, Phil M'Dermott, the whitesmith, will be about the +man. He is very fond of Kate, but he would not marry any woman until +he had saved enough of money to set up a house comfortly and decently +upon. Three hundred pounds fortune with Kate will set them up in good +style, and I shall see the best friend I ever had happy. Then, father, +there are the Lennons, my poor dear husband's parents, whom I shall +next consider. Pat Lennon, poor Emon's father, risked his life most +manfully in my defence. Were it not for his resolute attack upon the +two men with the cart, and the obstruction he gave them, they would +have carried me through the pass long before the police and Jamesy +Doyle came up; and the probability is that you would never have seen +your poor Winny again. I purpose purchasing the good-will of that +little farm and house from which the Murphys are about to emigrate, +and settle a small gratuity upon them during their lives." + +"Annuity, I suppose you mane, Winny; but it's no matther. How much +will that take, Winny?" + +"About two hundred pounds, father, including the--what is it you call +it, father?' + +"Annuity, Winny, annuity; I didn't think you were so--" + +"Annuity," she repeated before he had got the other word out, and he +was glad afterward. + +"Well, Winny, that's only five hundred out of somethin' over six." + +"Then I'll give Biddy Murtagh a hundred pounds, and she must live as +cook and house-maid with Kate; and I'll lodge twenty pounds in the +savings-bank for Jamesy Doyle. Perhaps I owe him more than the whole +of them put together." + +"That will be the first duck, Winny." + +"How is that, father?' + +"Why, it's well beyant the six hundred, Winny, which was all you were +goin' upon at first; but you may now begin with whatever we get by the +sale of Rathcash." + +"Well, father, I would only wish to suggest the distribution of that, +for you know I have no call to it, and God grant that it may be a long +day until I have." + +"Faix, an' Winny, af that be so, you've left yourself bare enough. But +don't be talkin' nonsense, child. What would I want with it? Won't +{260} you take care iv me, Winny asthore? an' won't you want the most +iv it where you are agoin? an' didn't you tell me already that you'd +like me to let you give it to the charities of that religious +establishment? Shure, there's no use in my askin' you any more not to +go into it." + +"None indeed, father, for I am resolved upon it. But you shall live in +the town with me, and I can take care of you the same as if I was in +the house with you. There shall be nothing that you can want or wish +for that you shall not have, and no day that it is possible that I +will not see you." + +"What more had I here, Winny, except the crops coming round from the +seed to the harvest, an' the cattle, an' the grass, an' the birds in +the bushes? Dear, oh dear, yes! Hadn't I yourself, Winny asthore, +forenent me at breakust, dinner, an' supper; an' warn't you for ever +talkin' to me of an evenin', with your stitchin' or your knittin' +across your lap; an', Winny jewel, wasn't your light song curling +through the yard, an' the house, afore I was up in the mornin'? But +now--now--Winny--oh, Winny asthore, mavourneen macree! but your poor +old father will miss yourself, no matther how kind your plans may be +for his comfort. Shure, the very knowledge that you were asleep in the +house with me was a blessin'." + +"Father," she said, "God bless you! I will be back with you in a few +minutes--do not fret;" and she left him, and shut herself up in her +room. + +But he did fret; and he was no sooner alone than the big tears burst +uncontrollably forth into a pocket-handkerchief, which he continued to +sop against his face. + +Winny had thrown herself upon her knees at the bedside, and prayed to +God to guide her. Her thoughts and prayers were too dignified and holy +for tears. But they had made a free course to the pinnacle of the +mercy-seat, and she rose with her soul refreshed by the glory which +had responded to her cry for guidance. + +She returned to her father, a radiant smile of anticipated pleasure +playing round her beautiful lips. There was no sign of grief, or even +of emotion, on her cheeks. + +"Father," she said, "I have been seeking guidance from the Almighty in +this matter; and the old saying that 'charity begins at home'--that is +moral charity in this instance--has been suggested to my heart. We +shall not part, father, even temporarily. Where you live, I shall +live. I have been told, father, just now, while upon my knees, that to +do all the good I have projected need not oblige me to join as an +actual member of any charitable or religious society. No, father, I +can carry out all my plans without the necessity of living apart from +you; we will therefore, father dear, still live together. But let us +remove when this place is sold to B----, where the establishment I +have spoken of is situated, and there, with my knitting or my +stitching on my lap before you in the evenings, I can carry on all my +plans in connection with the institution without being an actual +member, which might involve the necessity of my living in the house. +But, father dear, I hope you do not disapprove of any of them, or of +the distribution of the money, so far as I have laid it out." + +It was then quietly and finally arranged between them that as soon as +Rathcash was sold, and the stock and furniture disposed of, they would +remove to B----, in a northern county. They there intended to take a +small house, either in the town or precincts--the latter old Ned +preferred--where Winny could join the Sisters of Charity, at least in +her acts, if not as a resident member. The money was to be disposed of +as Winny had laid out, and legal deeds were to be prepared and +perfected; and poor Winny, notwithstanding the sudden cloud which had +darkened the blue heaven of her {261} life, was to be as happy as the +day was long. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + + +Within a month from the scene between Winny and her father described +above, Rathcash bad been purchased and paid for. There had been "a +great auction" of the stock, crops, and furniture. The house was shut +up, the door locked, and the windows bolted. No smoke curled from the +brick chimneys through the poplars. No sleek dark-red cows stood +swinging their tails and licking their noses, while a fragrant smell +of luscious milk rose through the air. No cock crew, no duck quacked, +no Turkey gobbled, and no goose gabbled. No dog bayed the moon by +night. Bully-dhu was at the flitting. The corn-stands and haggard were +naked and cold, and the grass was beginning to grow before the door. +The whole place seemed solitary and forlorn, awaiting a new tenant, or +whatever plans the proprietor might lay out for its future occupation. +Winny and her father had torn themselves from the spot hallowed to the +old man by years of uninterrupted happiness, and to the young girl by +the memory of a blissful childhood and the first sunshine of the +bright hope which is nearest to a woman's heart, until that fatal +night when vengeful crime broke in and snapt both spells asunder. +Rathcash and Rathcashmore had been a byword in the mouths of young and +old for the nine days limited for the wonder of such things. + +If the goodness of his only child had broken the heart of one old man +from the reflection that her earthly happiness had been hopelessly +blighted, and his fond plans and prospects for her crushed for ever, +the villany and wickedness of another had not been less certain in a +similar result. Old Mick Murdock--ere his son stood before an earthly +tribunal to answer for his crimes--had been summoned before the court +of heaven. + +The assizes came round, "the charge was prepared, the judge was +arrayed--a most _ter_rible show." Old Cavana and his daughter were, as +a matter of course, summoned by the crown for the prosecution, as were +also Pat Lennon, Jamesy Doyle, Biddy Murtagh, and the policemen who +had come to the rescue. + +Old Ned was the first witness, Winny the second, Jamesy Doyle the +third. Then Biddy Murtagh and Pat Lennon, and finally, before the +doctor's medical evidence was given, the policemen who came to the +rescue, particularly he who had seen the shot fired and the man fall. + +This closed the evidence for the Crown. There was no case, there could +be no case, for the prisoner, beyond the futile cross-examination of +the witnesses, by an able and tormenting counsellor, old Bob B----y, +whose experience in this instance was worse than useless. + +The reader need hardly follow on to the result. Tom Murdock was +convicted and sentenced to death; and ere three weeks had elapsed he +had paid the penalty of an ungovernable temper and a revengeful +disposition upon the scaffold. + +Poor Winny had pleaded hard with the counsel for the crown, and even +with the attorney-general himself--who prosecuted in person--that Tom +Murdock might be permitted to plead guilty to the abduction, and be +sentenced to transportation for life. But the attorney-general, who +had all the informations by heart, said that the animus had been +manifest all through, from even prior to the hurling-match, which was +alluded to by the prisoner himself as he fired the shot, and that he +would most certainly arraign the prisoner for the murder. And so he +was found guilty; and Winny, with her heart full of plans of peace and +charity, was obliged to forge the first link in a chain the {262} +succeeding ones of which dragged Tom Murdock to an ignominious grave. + +Old Ned and Winny, accompanied by faithful Bully-dhu, had returned to +B----, where the old man read and loitered about, watching every +figure which approached, hoping to see his angel girl pass on some +mission of holy charity, dressed in her black hood and cape. + +Accompanied by Bully-dhu, he picked up every occurrence in the street, +and compiled them in his memory, to amuse Winny in the evenings, in +return for her descriptions of this or that case of distress which she +had relieved. Thus they told story about, not very unlike tragedy and +farce! + +A sufficient time had now elapsed, not only for the deeds to have been +perfected, but for the provisions which they set forth to have been +carried out. Pat Lennon had already removed to the comfortable cottage +upon the snug little farm which had been purchased for him by Winny, +and the "annuity" she had settled upon him was bearing interest in the +savings-bank at C. O. S. + +Phil M'Dermott was one of the best to do men in that side of the +country, and his wife (if you can guess who she was) was the nicest +and the handsomest he (now that Winny was gone) that you'd meet with +in the congregation of the three chapels within four miles of where +she lived. Jamesy Doyle had been transferred--head, body, and +bones--to the establishment, where he excelled himself in everything +which was good and useful and--_handy_. Many a figary was got from +time to time after him in the forge, filed up bright and nice, and if +he does not "sorely belie" his abilities and aptitude, he will one day +become a "whitesmith" of no mean reputation. + +Biddy Murtagh was to have gone as cook and thorough servant to _Mrs. +M'Dermott;_ but the hundred pounds which had been lodged to her credit +in the bank soon smoothed the way between her and Denis Murrican--a +Shanvilla boy, you will guess--who induced her to become cook, but not +thorough servant, I hope, to himself; so Kate M'Dermott--how strange +it seems not to write 'Kate Mulvey'!--was obliged to get somebody +else. + +Poor Winny, blighted in her own hopes of this world's happiness, had +turned her thoughts to a surer and more abiding source. She had seen +her plans for the happiness of those she loved carried out to a +success almost beyond her hopes. Her poor old father, getting whiter +and whiter as the years rolled on, attained a ripe and good old age, +blessed in the fond society of the only being whom he loved on earth. +Winny herself found too large a field for individual charity and good +to think of joining any society, however estimable, during her +father's lifetime, and was emphatically _the_ Sister of Charity in the +singular number. + +But poor old Ned has long since passed away from this scene of earthly +cares, and sleeps in peace in his own chapel-yard, between _two +tombs_. Long as the journey was, Winny had the courage and +self-control to come with her father's bier, and see his coffin laid +beside that of him who had been so rudely snatched away, and whom she +had so devotedly loved. Poor Bully-dhu was at the funeral, and gazed +into the fresh-made grave in silent, dying grief. When all was over, +and the last green sod slapped down upon the mound, he could nowhere +be found. He had suddenly eluded all observation. But ere a week had +passed by, he was found dead upon his master's grave, after the whole +neighborhood had been terrified by a night of the most dismal howling +which was ever heard. + +Winny returned to the sphere of her usefulness and hope, where for +many years she continued to exercise a course of unselfish charity, +which made many a heart sing for joy. + +{263} + +But she, too, passed away, and was brought home to her last +resting-place in Rathcash chapel-yard, where the three tombs are still +to be seen. Were she now alive she would yet be a comparatively young +woman, not much past sixty-four or sixty-five years of age. But it +pleased God, in his inscrutable ways, to remove her from the circle of +all her bounty and her love. Had it not been so, this tale would not +have yet been written. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +"REQUIEM AETERNAM." + + + Lo! another pilgrim, weary + With his toils, hath reached the goal. + And we lift our "_Miserere_" + For the dear departed soul; + God of pity and of love! + May he reign with thee above! + + By the pleasures he surrendered, + By the cross so meekly borne. + By the heart so early tendered. + By each sharp and secret thorn, + And by every holy deed-- + For our brother's rest we plead! + + 'Mid the throng who rest contented, + Earth to him was but a waste. + And the sweets this life presented, + Were but wormwood to his taste. + Faith had taught him from the first + For the fount of life to thirst + + Faith, the sun that rose to brighten + All his pathway from the font: + Then no phantom e'er could frighten, + Nor the sword of pain or want: + "For," he said, "though pain be strong, + Time shall vanquish it ere long." + + When he spoke of things eternal, + How the transient seemed to fade! + And we saw the goods supernal + Stand revealed without a shade: + "Surely 'twas a spirit spoke," + Was the thought his language woke. + +{264} + + Thought prophetic! _now_ a spirit + Speaketh from the world unseen: + And the faith we, too, inherit + Telleth what the tidings mean: + "Friend and stranger! oh, prepare-- + Make the wedding garment fair." + + Yet our brother's strength was mortal; + Bore he naught of earthly taint? + Did he pass the guarded portal + In the armor of a saint? + Lord of holiness! with dread + On this awful ground we tread. + + He was merciful and tender + To the erring and the weak; + Therefore will thy pity render + Unto him the grace we seek. + Whilst we bring to mercy's fount + Pledges uttered on the Mount. + + He remembered the departed + As we now remember him: + Bright, and true, and simple-hearted. + Till the lamp of life grew dim: + Friend was he of youth and age-- + Now a child--and now a sage. + + If those footsteps unreturning + Leave on earth no lasting trace: + If no kindred heart be yearning + Tearful in his vacant place: + If oblivion be his lot + Here below, we murmur not; + Only let his portion be + Evermore, dear Lord, _with thee!_ + +MARIE. + +Beaver, PA. + +------ + +{265} + + +From The Dublin University Magazine. + + +TINTED SKETCHES IN MADEIRA. + + +CHAPTER I. + +Notwithstanding that Madeira enjoys an imperishable distinction for +its matchless scenery, its sunny skies, and its healthful climate, yet +the character of its inhabitants seems to have been but little +studied, and still less the singular usages and customs which indicate +their nationality. Impressed with the idea that to supply some +information on these particulars might heighten the interest +experienced for the Madeirans as an isolated little community, I have +compiled a few pages descriptive of their social and domestic life, +intending them, however, merely as supplementary to the valuable +information afforded by others. + +Passing over the novel and amusing circumstance of landing at Funchal, +which has already been so often described, I find myself in a +boi-caro, or ox-car, traversing narrow and intricate streets; the +murmur of waters and soft strains of instrumental music saluting my +ear, while a faint perfumed breeze stirs the curtains of my caro. By +some travellers the boi-caro has been likened to the body of a calèche +placed on a sledge, but to me it neither had then, nor has it assumed +since, any other appearance than that of a four-post bed, curtained +with oil-cloth, lined with some bright-colored calico, and having +comfortably cushioned seats. It is made of light, strong timber, +secured on a frame shod with iron. A pair of fat, sleek oxen are yoked +to this odd-looking carriage, while from thongs passed through their +horns bits of carved ivory or bone hang on their foreheads to protect +them from the influence of Malochio or Evil-eye. + +Half an hour brought me to my destination, No.--, Rua San Francisco. +This house in its structure resembles the generality of the better +class of houses in the island, the sleeping-rooms being sacrificed to +the magnificence of the reception-rooms, the vastness of which appears +to mock the ordinary wants of daily life. The walls are pure white, +lined with prints, paintings, and mirrors; the floors are either +covered with oil-cloth or highly polished; and the windows are shaded +by lace curtains and Venetian blinds; the furniture is modern, and of +English manufacture. I have been thus minute because the interiors of +all the superior dwellings have the same general character. I cannot, +however, say the same with regard to the tastes and habits of the +occupants. The British prince-merchant, with his spirit, his +intelligence, and his philanthropy, gives his days to the busy cares +of life, and his evenings to the quiet enjoyments of home; while the +Madeiran gentleman passes his days in luxurious indolence, and his +evenings in crowded rooms. The ladies present an equally strong +contrast, and yet, during one short period in each day, their tastes +and purposes seem to assimilate: when the brief and beautiful +twilight, with its freshness, its odors, and its music, induces even +the exclusive English-women to appear in the shaded balcony, and find +amusement in the passing scenes. + +At this hour the peasantry may be seen returning to their homes in +little parties of four or five, each group being accompanied by a +musician playing on the national instrument, the machêtes, or +guitarette, and singing some plaintive air in which, occasionally, all +join. No sooner has one group passed, than the sweet, soft intonations +of other songsters are heard {266} approaching. Sometimes two or even +more parties will enter the street at the same time, when they at once +take up alternate parts, and that with such perfect taste and harmony +that when the notes begin to die away in the distance the listener's +car is aching with attention. These songs are usually of their own +composition, and are improvised for the occasion. They have but few +national ballads, and of these the subjects are either the +mischief-loving Malochio, or Macham and the unhappy Lady Anna, or the +fable of Madeira's having been cast up by the sea covered with +magnificent forests of cedar, which afterward, catching fire from a +sun-beam, burned for seven years, and then from the heated soil +produced the luxuriant vegetation with which it is now clothed. + +It must not be supposed, however, that the peasantry are of a +melancholy disposition because it is their custom to make choice of +plaintive music to time their footsteps when returning at the close of +a golden day to their homes by the sea or on the rugged mountain +heights. On the contrary, the character of their minds combines all +the variety of the scenes amongst which they were nurtured, though the +leading trait is a desire for the gay and fanciful, whether in dress +or amusement; While they regard neither money nor time in comparison +with the gratification of witnessing the numerous ceremonies and +pageants which every other day fill the streets with richly-dad trains +of ecclesiastics, flashing cavalcades, and troops of youths and +maidens in festive wreaths and gay attire. The season of Lent affords +them almost daily opportunities for the indulgence of this taste. + +At an early hour of the Monday morning in the first week in Lent the +ordinary stillness of the town is interrupted by loud and clamorous +sounds, such as sometimes assail the ear in a European town, at +midnight, when bands of revellers are reeling toward their homes. +Laughter, song, instrumental music, and the unsteady tramp of a crowd +meet the startled ear, suggesting the idea of the proximity of a +disorderly multitude. Opening the window cautiously you look down into +the street, and behold bands of men in masks and habited in every +variety of strange and ridiculous costume. Some few, however, display +both taste and wealth in the choice of their disguises, but the +generality of the crowd in their tawdry attire and hideous masks +appear to have studied only effectual concealment. For some hours +party after party continue to pass through the street, and as they +knock loudly at the doors, and even call on the inhabitants by name, +you discover that a feeling of impatience to have the shops opened and +the ordinary routine of business commenced is common to all, and, if +not gratified, may manifest itself in some open act of aggression. +Slowly and with evident reluctance the houses are opened, while the +curious and amused faces of children and servants may be seen peeping +from the trellised balconies down on the noisy crowd. After a time a +few men in ordinary costume begin to appear in the street, trying to +look unconscious and unsuspicious of any danger, and hurrying forward +with the important pre-occupied air of men of business. But neither +their courage nor cunning avails them anything. A shower of stale eggs +breaking on the stalwart shoulders of one merchant reminds him that +the more grave and English-like is his demeanor, the more is he +regarded as the proper subject for mirth; while a plate of flour +thrown over another would send a dusty miller instead of a dandy +flying into some open door for shelter, followed by the derisive +laughter of the insolent crowd. + +Amazed at such an exhibition of unchecked violence, the stranger +inquires the meaning of the scene, and learns that it is merely the +customary way of celebrating in Funchal the day known as Shrove +Tuesday, the people having from time immemorial {267} enjoyed an +established license to indulge on that day in such rude practical +jokes as are warranted by the usages of all carnival seasons. + +I may here observe that the Madeirans reckon their days from noon to +noon, instead of from midnight to midnight, though their impatience +for frolic and mischief frequently leads them, as on the present +occasion, into the error of beginning the day some hours too soon. +When, however, celebrating religious festivals, or on days set apart +for fasting and invoking of their patron saints--Nossa Senhora do +Monte and Sant Jago Minor--they carefully adhere to the established +rule. + +As the day advances the crowd becomes bolder, and no one, no matter +what his age, rank, or nation, is suffered to pass unmolested. These +coarse carnival jests are continued not only through the day but +through the night, and until noon the next day, when the firing of +cannon from the fort announces the cessation of the privilege of +outraging society with impunity. Although, however, practical joking +is prohibited from that moment until the next anniversary of the same +day, masquerading is allowed from Shrove Tuesday till the week after +Easter, the English being the chief, if not the only, objects for +raillery and ridicule. + +In general the most amicable feelings exist between the Madeirans and +all foreigners, yet the lower classes of the natives appear to derive +the utmost satisfaction in being openly permitted to caricature the +English, and under favor of their privileged disguise to display +John's eccentricities and weaknesses in the most ludicrous light, +while the jealousy of the authorities prohibits on his part the most +distant approach to retaliation. + +As the last echo of the warning gun died away amongst the hills, the +sun's position in the heavens indicated the hour of noon, and +instantly the musical peals of numerous bells came floating to the ear +from every direction, while above their sweet harmonious sounds is +heard the booming of cannon from the vessels anchored in the roads, +and the loud blasts of trumpets from the fort and the barracks. A +stranger might be excused for supposing that the people were about to +renew the carnival, whereas they were only announcing, in conformity +with ecclesiastical law, the commencement of the season of Lent. This +was the first day, or Ash Wednesday, though by our manner of computing +time it was still the noon of Tuesday. At one o'clock the roar of +artillery from the Loo Rock and the shipping was silent, the martial +strains ceased, but the bells at short intervals continued to ring out +their melodious summons, which was responded to by hundreds of persons +in ordinary costume, all moving in the direction of the sé, or +cathedral, in the Praca Constitutionel. Mingling with this decorous +portion of the crowd were many of the most grotesquely attired masques +of the previous day, whose antics and buffoonery, jests and laughter, +formed the oddest contrast to the costume and bearing of the others. + +Meanwhile, by one of those sudden changes so common in tropical +climates, the sky, which a short time before was so blue and serene, +began to show signs of a gathering storm. There was an ominous +stillness in the atmosphere, the dull leaden color overhead was +shedding its gloom everywhere, and I heard voices from the crowd +exclaiming, "Hasten forward there, the rain is coming--hasten!" A few +big drops just then fell with a plashing sound, and in a second or two +afterward down, with a terrific noise, poured the fierce wild rain, +coming on the streets with the noise of a waterfall, while on the +house-tops it fell with a sharp rattle, as if every drop was a +paving-stone. + +In a few moments from the commencement of the rain the people had all +disappeared, the streets had assumed the appearance of rushing +streams, while the three fiumeras traversing the town kept up an {268} +unceasing roar, as the swollen waters rushed plunging toward the sea. + +Formerly these fiumeras were uninclosed, and consequently after heavy +rains the torrents would enlarge their borders, spreading out on every +side and encompassing the town, until it assumed the appearance of +having been built in the midst of waves and currents. Now, however, +walls of strong masonry attest the wisdom and industry of the modern +Madeirans, and between these the rivers flow in shallow musical +streams in summer, or sweep on in deep, sullen floods during the rainy +seasons in spring and autumn. It sometimes, however, happens that, +though the rivers can no longer overleap their boundaries to career +round pillared edifices and lay bare their foundations, or, sweeping +up into their fierce embrace cottages and their inmates, inclosures +and their stalled cattle, hurry with them into the blue depths of the +bay of Funchal, they still, when increased by these mountain torrents, +which on leaving the heights are but whispering streamlets, gathering +depth and strength in their descent, will send boulders of many tons +weight over the high broad walls, followed by giant trees, planks of +timber, and jagged branches, as if from the heaving bosom of the angry +waters rocks and withered boughs are flung off with equal ease. + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +From the period alluded to in the last chapter, namely, the beginning +of Lent, processions and public ceremonies become of such frequent +recurrence that I must either pass over a period of some weeks or fill +a volume in describing them. Believing the former course to be the +wisest, I shall pass on to the fourth Sunday in Lent. From an early +hour in the morning every bell-tower had been awakening the echoes +with its musical clamor, and every hamlet and village had responded to +the summons by sending forth crowds of hardy inhabitants in their best +attire, to join the gaily dressed multitudes thronging through the +narrow, angular streets of Funchal toward the Praca, in which, as I +have said, stands the sé, or cathedral. This building is +quaint-looking and massive, proclaiming the liberality, if not the +taste, of its founders. It is somewhat more than three centuries old, +having been completed in the year 1514, and is only now beginning to +assume that mellow and sombre hue which comports so well with the +character of such piles. By the hour of noon the Praca presented a sea +of human faces. The long seats beneath the shade of trees had been +resigned to the children, while the platform in the centre of the +square, occupied on ordinary occasions by the military bands, now +presented a waving parterre of the smiling and observant faces of +peasant girls, who, notwithstanding their proverbial timidity and +gentleness, had managed to secure that elevated position. Meantime the +balconies were filling fast with the families of the English and +German residents, all intent on seeing the remarkable pageant of the +day known as the "Passo." + +Having obtained a front seat in the balcony of the English +reading-room, I had a full view of the animated and picturesque scene +beneath, the latter feature being heightened by the striking contrasts +exhibited between the costumes of the peasant women and those of the +same grade residing in the town. As one looked at the latter it was +not difficult to imagine they had just come from Europe with the tail +of the fashions. Bonnets, feathers, flowers, ballooned dresses, all +were foreign importations; while the women who had come down from +those cottages on the heights, which, on looking up at, appear like +pensile nests hanging from the crags, wore dresses of masapuja--a +mixture of thread and bright wools manufactured by themselves--small +shawls woven {269} in bright stripes, and on their heads the graceful +looking lenco, or handkerchief, in some showy, becoming color. Others +from the fishing villages wore complete suits of blue cloth, of a +light texture, even to the head-dress, which was the carapuca, or +conical shaped cap, ending in a drooping horn and a golden tassel; +while a few wore cotton dresses, and covered their heads with the +barrettea, a knitted cap in shape like an elongated bowl, and having a +woollen tuft at the top glittering with gold beads. The elder women +covered their shoulders with large bright shawls, while the younger +wore tightly-fitting bodices, fastened with gold buttons, and over +these small capes with pointed collars. All, whether old or young, +wore their dresses full, and sufficiently short to display to +advantage their small and beautifully formed feet. + +In singular contrast with this simplicity of taste in their apparel, +is their desire for a profusion of ornaments. Accordingly, you will +find adorning the persons of the peasant women of Madeira rings and +chains and brooches of intrinsic value and much beauty, such as in +other countries people of wealth assume the exclusive right to wear. +An instance of this ruling passion came under my notice a short time +since, which I may mention here. + +Through a long life of toil and poverty a peasant woman had regularly +laid by, from her scanty earnings, a small sum weekly. Her neighbors +commended her forethought and prudence, not doubting but that the +little hoard so persistently gathered was meant to meet the +necessities of the days when the feeble hands would forget their +cunning. At length the sum amounted to some hundreds of testatoes, or +silver five-pences, and then the poor woman's life-secret was +discovered. With a step buoyant for her years, and a smile which for a +moment brought back the beauty of her youth, she entered a jeweller's +shop, and exchanged the contents of her purse for a pair of costly +earrings. Had she been remonstrated with, she would have betrayed not +only her own but the national feeling on the subject, by saying--"I +lose nothing by the indulgence. At any moment I can find a purchaser +for real jewelry." + +An hour passed, and signs of impatience were becoming visible in the +crowd, when the sounds of distant music caused a sudden and deep +silence. A feeling of awe seemed to have fallen at once on the +multitude, and every bronze-colored face was turned with a reverential +expression toward the street by which it was known the procession +would enter the Praca. Slowly the music drew near, now reaching us in +full strains, then seeming to die away in soft cadences. Meantime the +guns from the forts and shipping renewed their firing, and the bells +swung out their grandest peal. Curiosity was at its height, when the +foremost row of the procession met our view--four men walking abreast, +wearing violet-colored silk cassocks, with round capes reaching to the +girdles, and holding in their hands wax candles of an enormous size. A +long train, habited in the same way, followed these, and then came +four ecclesiastics in black silk gowns and Jesuits' caps, bearing +aloft a large and gorgeous purple banner, in the centre of which were +four letters in gold, "S.Q.P.R," being the initials of a sentence, the +translation of which is, "To the Senate and People of Rome." + +After this followed another long line of men in violet, and then again +four clothed in black, carrying a wax image, large as life, on a +platform, meant to represent the garden of Gethsemane. Round the edge +were artificial trees about a foot and a half in height, having their +foliage and fruit richly gilt. The figure was clothed in a purple +robe, and on the brow was a crown of thorns. It was in a kneeling +position, and the face was bowed so low you could not distinguish the +features, but the attitude {270} gave you the impression that it was +making painful attempts to rise, which the weight of the huge cross on +the shoulders rendered ineffectual. Another train of candle-bearers +followed this, and then, in robes of rich black silk, and having on +their shoulders capes of finest lawn trimmed with costly lace, came +four priests holding up a gorgeous canopy, having curtains of white +silk and silver, which glittered and flashed as the faint breeze, +sweet with the perfume of flowers and fruit-trees, dallied amidst the +rich folds. From the centre of the canopy was suspended a silver dove, +its extended wings overshadowing the head of the bishop, who walked +beneath, robed in his most gorgeous sacerdotal habiliments. Between +his hands he carried the host, and as he passed along thousands of +prostrate forms craved his blessing. Following the canopy were more +men with tapers, and dressed in violet silk; then another purple +banner of even greater expansion than the first; then a lovely train +of little girls dressed to represent angels; then the band playing the +Miserere; and lastly a regiment of Portuguese soldiers. As soon as the +last of the men in violet had entered the cathedral, the door was +closed; the soldiers formed in lines on each side; the band was +silent; and, at the command of an officer, all uncovered their heads, +and stood in an attitude expressive of deep humiliation. This scene +was meant to represent that sorrowful yet glorious one enacted +eighteen centuries ago in the judgment hall of Pontius Pilate. The +little girls remained outside as well as the soldiery. + +The dress of these children was tasteful and picturesque. They wore +violet-color velvet dresses, very short and full, and profusely +covered with silver spangles; white silk stockings and white satin or +kid shoes; rich white and silver wreaths, and bright, filmy, white +wings. + +For an hour the cathedral door was kept closed, the soldiers remaining +all that time with bowed heads, motionless as statues. At length the +door was slowly opened, and one of the men wearing violet, having in +his hand a long wand, at the end of which appeared a small bright +flame, passed out, and proceeded to light up numerous tapers which had +been placed on the front of different houses in the Praca. As soon as +this was done, a command from an officer caused the men to resume +their caps and their upright attitude. Presently the rich, expressive +music of a full band was again heard playing the Miserere, and the +procession passed out between the glittering and bristling lines, its +numbers and its images increased. + +Following close after the garden of Gethsemane, there was now an image +of the Virgin, attired in an ample purple robe and a long blue veil, +worked in silver. The exquisite taste and skill of the Madeiran +ladies, exerted upon the richest materials, had given to this figure a +lifelike appearance far surpassing that which usually distinguishes +other draped statues. Over the clasped hands the velvet seemed rather +to droop than lie in folds, while the expression of the attitude, +which was that of earnest supplication, as if craving sympathy for +some crushing woe, was heightened by the artistic arrangement of the +heavy plaits of the robe. + +The men who carried this image, and those immediately preceding and +following it, wore blue instead of violet cassocks, while the little +angels who had brought up the van of the first procession were now +clustered about the bearers of the image of the Virgin. + +From the cathedral the pageant passed on through the principal streets +into the country, the faint peal of the trumpets occasionally coming +back to the ear, mingled with the silvery sound of the bells, and the +deep boom of the minute-guns. At the foot of the Mount church, +however, various changes were effected. The little girls quietly +separated themselves from the crowd, and, being watched for by anxious +mothers and elder sisters, {271} were carried home. A deputy bishop +took the place of his superior beneath the canopy, other men relieved +the bearers of the banners and images, and other musicians released +those whose attendance had commenced with the dawn. All through the +day you could trace their course, only occasionally losing sight of +them, and all through the night too, by the light of the cedar-wood +torches borne by little boys, in snowy tunics, who had joined the +procession at the foot of the mount. + +To understand how beautiful was the effect of this, you must look with +me on the unique and picturesque town of Funchal, running round the +blue waters of the bay, and rising up into the vineyards and groves +and gardens clothing the encircling hills. A golden light slumbers +over the whole scene, so pure and luminous that we can trace +distinctly every feature in the luxuriant landscape. The white houses +of the town crowned with terrinhas, or turrets, and having hanging +balconies glowing with flowers of rare beauty; the majestic palms +expanding their broad and beautiful heads over high garden walls; the +feathery banana waving gracefully on sunny slopes, where clumps of the +bright pomegranates display their crimson pomp; the shady plane-trees +running in rows along the streets; the snowy quintas or villas on the +hills, becoming fewer and more scattered toward the summit; the +churches and nunneries on higher elevations; and still further up the +white cottages of the peasantry, with their vine-trellised porches and +their gardens of pears, peaches, and apricots; while above and around +all these, forming a sublime amphitheatre as they tower to nearly six +thousand feet above the level of the sea, are the Pico Ruivo and Pico +Grande. A wreath of purple mist lay that day, as it almost always +does, on their topmost peaks, giving now and again glimpses of their +picturesque outline, as, like a soft transparent veil, it was folded +and unfolded by the breeze roaming over the solitudes of scented broom +and heather. Through such scenes, in view of all, moved the long, +glittering pageant just described. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +Everywhere the grave declares its victory--in beautiful Madeira as +elsewhere. An old servant, whose business it was to cut up fire-wood +and carry it into the house, has performed his last earthly duty and +finished life's journey. He dwelt with his mother and sister in a +cottage at the extremity of the garden; and I was only apprised of the +circumstances of his death by hearing loud cries coming up from the +shady walks, and the exclamations: "Alas, my son, my son!" and "Oh, my +brother!" repeated over and over in accents of uncontrollable grief. + +It is customary, as soon as a death occurs in the family of one of the +peasant class, for all the survivors to rush forth into the open air, +and, with cries and lamentations, to call on the dead by every +endearing epithet and implore of them to return once more. The +neighbors being thus made acquainted with what has occurred, gather +round the mourners, and try to steal away the bitterness of their +grief by reminding them that all living shall share the same fate, and +that one by one each shall depart in his turn to make his bed in the +silent chamber of the grave. By such simple consolations--untaught +nature's promptings--they induce the bereaved ones to re-enter the +house and prepare the body for interment. + +The heat of the climate renders hasty burial necessary in Madeira, and +the authorities are strict in enforcing it. From ten to twelve hours +is the longest period allowed by law between death and the grave, and +the very poor seldom permit even so much time to elapse; they merely +wait to ascertain to a certainty that the hand of death has released +the imprisoned {272} soul before they wrap up the body and carry it +with hurrying feet to "breathless darkness and the narrow house." + +In such instances coffins are rarely used, and when they are, they are +hired by the hour. The usual way is to roll the body up tightly in a +sere cloth, then place it in a "death hammock" (which resembles an +unbleached linen sheet, tied at the ends to an iron pole); and hurry +with it to an unhonored grave. + +A few days subsequent to the death of the old servant, the remains of +a little girl were borne past; the sight was so singular I think it +worth describing. + +Moving slowly and solemnly along the street were a number of men, +habited in deep blue home-made cloth, the two foremost of whom carried +a light iron bier, on which lay the body of a little girl, whose brief +period of life numbered not more than five summers. A robe of soft, +clear, snowy muslin enveloped the motionless form like a cloud; on the +tiny feet, crossed in rest at last, were white silk stockings and +white shoes; and her little hands, which must so lately have found +gleeful employment in scattering the fragments of broken toys, were +now meekly folded on her bosom over a bouquet of orange blossoms. A +heavy wreath of the same flowers, mingled with a few leaves of the +allegro campo, encircled her young brow, which, as may be supposed, +wore that lovely, calm expression described by poets as the impress of +"heaven's signet-ring." + +In almost every one of the varied scenes of life orange blossoms are +made use of in Madeira, either as types or emblems. Wreaths of them +grace the bride's young head, as being emblematical of the beauty and +purity of her character; as typical of a grief which shall be ever +fresh, chaplets of them crown the pale brows of the dead. On the +anniversary of a birth-day they are presented to the aged as an +embodiment of the truth that they shall again renew their youth; while +the proud triumphal arch is adorned with their snowy bells, as an +assurance that the occasion for which it was erected shall be held in +ever-enduring remembrance. + +The little child on the rude bier, who looked as fair in her +death-sleep as these fairest of flowers, was being carried to the +cemetery belonging to the resident Roman Catholics, and known as +Laranjeira. There a priest was awaiting its arrival. He was standing +by the open grave, and when the body was laid at his feet he read over +it in Latin a short burial service, placed some grains of dust on the +pulseless bosom, and departed. Being carefully wrapped in a sere doth, +it was then placed in a shallow grave (according to custom) and +lightly covered with three or four inches of earth. + +Laranjeira is situated on the west of the town. Passing up the +Augustias Hill the stranger sees a large, handsome gate near the +empress's hospital; this is the entrance to the graveyard. Inside is a +small flower-garden, tastefully laid out and neatly kept, through +which you pass to the broad stone steps leading to the fine gravel +walk running quite through the cemetery. Another walk, also of +considerable width, leads round it, while several narrower ones, +shaded by hedges of geraniums, roses, and lavender, are cut through it +in different directions. Inclosing the whole is a high wall, studded +with monumental tablets, on some of which praise and grief are +charactered in deep, newly-cut letters, while from many others time +has either obliterated every trace of writing, or the pains and the +heat have washed and bleached them into meaningless, cloudy white +slabs. There are but few monuments or even tombstones of any +pretension, though many of the latter bear English inscriptions. Rows +of cypress trees border the centre walk, and almost every grave in the +inclosure is overshadowed by a weeping willow. + +{273} + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +It was the last week in Lent, and, according to our manner of +computing time, it was eleven o'clock A.M. of the day known as "Holy +Thursday." Reckoning, however, as the Madeirans do, it was the last +hour of that day, and the next would be the first of Good Friday. + +An unusual silence had reigned in the town since the first streaks of +purple light appeared in the east, as if to render more remarkable the +din which at the hour above-named assailed the ears of the inhabitants +of Funchal. Strains of military music filled the air, mingled with the +tolling of bells and the firing of guns, which found a hundred echoes +in the adjoining hills. These sounds were the signals to the people of +Madeira that the time was drawing near when the most imposing +ceremonial of their religion would be celebrated. With the first +trumpet-notes the streets began to fill, every house sending forth its +inmates, whether rich or poor, old or young, either to witness or take +part in the spectacles of the day. As on all like occasions, the +peasantry, in their best attire, poured in with astonishing rapidity; +while crowding in with them were ladies in hammocks, clad in robes of +rainbow hues, and partially concealed from curious eyes by silken +curtains of pink or blue, which were matched in color by the vests of +the bearers, and the ribbons with long floating ends adorning their +broad-brimmed straw hats; and gentlemen on horseback, whom you at once +would recognize as natives by their short stature, their bright vests, +neckties, and hat-ribbons, and their profusion of rich, showy +ornaments. Quietly making their way on foot through this throng were +the English merchants, with their wives and daughters, distinguished +from those by whom they were surrounded by an air of severe reserve +and a studied simplicity of dress. A few handsome wheeled carriages +also appeared on the scene, and one or two of the awkward looking +boi-cars. All were taking the same direction, the Praca da +Constitutionel, and the common object was to gain admission to the +cathedral. At every turn the crowd augmented, and even masquers joined +in considerable numbers--but these latter brought neither jest nor +laughter with their presence; the ceremonies of the day had subdued +even them, causing them to abandon the vacant gaiety appertaining to +their attire for a demeanor more fitting the time and occasion. + +Arrived at the cathedral, each party, no matter how exalted their +rank, encountered a delay in obtaining an entrance. The throng around +the door was great, and it was in vain that the soldiers endeavored to +keep the general crowd at a distance. Trained as the Madeirans are to +habits of deference to both military and ecclesiastical authority, +they become, like other people, audacious and headstrong when +assembled in large multitudes, and, in spite of both church and state, +they now sought an entrance by the exertion of physical force, and +some hundreds succeeded. + +While, however, the struggle and contention at the door remained +unabated, the ceremonial which all were so anxious to witness had been +enacted within. To describe it is needless. The hour when the God-man +poured forth his soul even unto death is a sad and awful memory +familiar to us all. Let us, therefore, look at the scene which the +cathedral presents at two o'clock on that day. + +The windows are boarded up on the outside, and within are covered with +curtains of heavy black cloth. The walls all round are hung with fine +stuff of the same color, concealing the paintings and other ornaments, +and the altar is hidden behind drapery of black velvet with +ghastly-looking borders of silver. Between this gloomy vail and the +cancelli, or railings, you see a magnificent catafalque, and on it +{274} a coffin covered and lined with rich black velvet. A pale, +corpse-like figure, wearing a crown of thorns, lies within, blood +flowing from the wounded brow (or appearing to flow) and from the +hands which lie outside the winding-sheet of snowy linen. Numerous +tapers surround the catafalque, but from some cause they carry such +weak, glimmering flames, that a dim, uncertain light pervades the +immediate precincts of the altar, leaving the rest of the building in +deep shadow. Habited in close-fitting black silk robes, and with heads +bowed down as in unspeakable sorrow, several priests stand round the +coffin, while fitful wails and sobs from the multitude show that the +scene is not without its effect. + +An hour passed thus, and was succeeded by a sudden and dismal silence, +as if the great heart of the multitude had become exhausted with +sorrow, when the melancholy cadences of the Miserere coming down from +the huge organ as if rolling from the clouds, awoke up anew the grief +of the people, and low cries and half-stifled groans mingled freely +with the long-drawn, plaintive notes. Meantime the bishop, habited in +his most simple sacerdotal robes, came from the sacristy and stood at +the foot of the coffin, while four priests raised it from the +catafalque by means of loops of black silk and silver cord. The bishop +then moved forward, the dense crowd opening a lane for him as he +passed slowly round the church, followed by the four priests carrying +the coffin, and by others bearing the dim tapers. As He returned +toward the altar the people's sorrow seemed to increase, and every +head was stretched forward to catch a last glimpse of the coffin, when +just as the procession got within the cancelli a heavy curtain was let +fall, shutting in altar, catafalque, and tapers, and leaving the +cathedral in utter darkness. + +This scene was meant to represent the burial in the tomb of Joseph of +Arimathea, and while the greater portion of the congregation were +weeping aloud, a voice was heard proceeding from the pulpit, and +pronouncing that preliminary sentence to a sermon known as the +"blessing." + +In an instant the sounds of grief were hushed, and the mute audience +seemed to suppress their very breathing while they anxiously listened +to the words of the preacher. + +Spoken in a tongue with which few visitors to the island are +acquainted, the discourse took to the ears of strangers the shape of a +varied murmur, whose tones and cadences played on the very +heart-strings of the auditors, awakening at will feelings of fear, +agony, remorse, and repentance. As he proceeded, the passion and +pathos of his accents increased, and when he ceased to speak a +desolate stillness pervaded the whole multitude. Presently two men +entered from a side door bearing dim tapers, and at the same moment +the great door leading into the Praca was opened, and the congregation +poured like a tide into the open air, while low, soft sighs and +murmurs falling on the ear told of feelings of relief which words were +powerless to express. + +For a moment the throng leaving the church mingled with the multitude +without. The solid mass swayed like a troubled sea, and then quietly +broke up and scattered widely. Men in trade turned their faces +homeward, the business of life being, in their judgment, of more +importance than any further participation in the day's proceedings. +Elderly men and women of the lower classes sought out those houses and +temporary sheds, over the doors of which the four golden letters, +"P.V.A.B.," served the same purpose as the less mysterious British +announcement of "entertainment for man and horse;" while the young +peasants and artisans, forming an immense concourse, went shouting +toward the Mount road, leaving the streets leading to the beach free +from all obstacles, a circumstance of which the more respectable and +even aristocratic {275} portion of the multitude eagerly availed +themselves. Mingling with all parties were ragged-looking vendors of +curiosities, clamorous old beggars, and younger ones whose brilliant, +laughing black eyes contradicted the earnest appeal of the lips. + +Should our taste or curiosity lead us to follow the mob to the Mount +road we behold one of those singular exhibitions which excite almost +to frenzy--a hideous, straw-stuffed figure, or effigy, of Pontius +Pilate, tied on the back of a poor, miserable, lean donkey. Amidst the +wildest shouts and fiercest turmoil this creature is dragged forward, +every one taxing his inventive faculties to discover new indignities, +by which to express his feelings of horror and disgust for the +original. While the tumultuous throng thus parade through the +principal streets of the town, the bay is seen covered by hundreds of +boats, people of almost every nation in Europe reclining beneath their +awnings as they sweep slowly over the blue waves toward the Loo Rock, +or idly glide in front of that well-known point, beneath which on the +sands a gallows had been erected in the morning. + +Some hours passed, however, and there was no occurrence either to +gratify the taste or arouse the attention of the pleasure seekers. The +sun was drawing near the verge of the horizon, and the sea, assuming +the most intense shades of crimson, gold, and purple, differed only +from the magnificent canopy which it mirrored in that it gleamed with +a more wondrous splendor, as if a veil of diamonds floated and +trembled over its broad expanse. Not alone the sea, however, but the +whole landscape was bathed in the rich amber and purple floods of +light which on that evening streamed down from the ever changing +firmament. The sublime mountains of Pico Ruivo and Pico Grande were +crowned with radiance, the graceful hills, with their unnumbered giant +flowers, their gardens and vineyards, their rivulets and waterfalls, +glowed in the lustrous beams, while the brown sands on the +semi-circular beach, reaching from the picturesque basalts of Garajaô +to Ponta da Cruz, glittered as if a shower of diamond sparklets had +fallen on them. + +At length loud and prolonged shouts, mingling with the music of +military bands, were heard approaching from the town, and immediately +after a riotous and excited crowd, amongst which appeared hundreds of +masquers, came pressing forward with extravagant gestures, and driving +before them toward the gallows the ill-used donkey and its foul and +hideous burthen. + +A general movement at once took place among the boats, as the crew of +each sought to obtain the most favorable position for witnessing the +revolting spectacle of hanging the effigy, which was accomplished with +all the appalling ceremonies which might have been deemed necessary, +or which the law might have demanded, had the Governor of the Jews +been there in person. + +The hatred of the exulting mob being at length satiated, the figure +was cut down and cast into the sea, calling forth a last volley of +execration as it rolled and floundered on the long blue swells, or +momentarily sunk out of sight in the troughs, while the ebbing tide +carried it out to the deep. + + +CHAPTER V. + +It may appear strange, perhaps even incredible, that the lower classes +of Madeirans should have leisure, from their humble duties and the +labors required by their daily necessities, to attend at so many +festas and public ceremonies as we shall have occasion to describe, +and to indulge beside in their extravagant fancy for golden ornaments. +But the seeming enigma is easily solved. In the first place, the men +of the peasant class leave home for Demara every year, remaining away, +at high wages, from six to eight months, and then returning with money +sufficient to enable them to indulge {276} their families daring the +remainder of the year in their oriental taste for festas and finery. +Secondly, almost all the manual occupations connected with agriculture +devolve on the women, so that the absence of either husbands, sons, or +brothers neither retards nor diminishes the autumn fruits. Added to +this, they employ themselves during the evening hours, and at other +seasons when out-door labor is either impossible or unnecessary, in +those arts to which female faculties are particularly appropriate. +Nothing can exceed the exquisite beauty of the embroidery on cambric +and lace executed by some of the peasant women, and which comes from +their skilful fingers so perfectly white and pure that it is fit for +the wear of a princess the moment it is freed from the paper on which +the design had been traced, and over which it had been worked. Others, +not possessing such delicate taste as the embroiderers, exert their +ingenuity in knitting shawls, and veils, and pin-cushion covers, in +black or white thread, drawing on their own imaginations for new and +curious patterns; while some few devote their leisure time to netting +black silk shawls and scarfs, for which they also invent the designs. + +The earnings of the women by the sale of these articles to strangers +are considerable, and so completely at their own disposal that they +can independently indulge, whenever opportunities offer, in their +taste for ornament and emotional spectacles. The wear and tear, +however, of such a mode of life deprive them at an early period of +their native beauty, leaving them at twenty-five little more than that +grace and freedom of attitude which they retain to the close of the +longest life. + +The men also have their handicrafts, and the emoluments arising from +their exercise; and those of them who are either too old or too young, +or too indolent, or too sincerely attached to home to seek the toils +of labor and their reward in Demara, employ themselves in making +articles of inlaid wood, such as writing-desks, work-boxes, +paper-cutters, and pen-trays. The designs on many of these give +evidence of refined and skilful taste, while others only indicate a +fantastic ingenuity. The most perfect of these manufactures are +eagerly secured for the Portuguese market by agents, who generally +make an honest estimate of their value, while those of less merit are +set aside till some of the visitors to Madeira proportion their worth +by their own abundant wealth. + +This digression has been so long that, instead of returning now to the +midnight wanderers mentioned at the close of the lost chapter, I shall +request my readers to imagine it ten o'clock A.M. on Saturday morning, +and, consequently, two hours before the commencement of the Sabbath of +the Madeirans. Once more the Praca da Constitutionel is filled with an +eager and picturesque throng--peasants, artisans, aristocrats, +merchants, masqueraders, beggars, and curiosity-venders all mingled +together, and all, either from motives of piety or inquisitiveness, +once more seeking admission to the cathedral, whose fine proportions +and gorgeous ornaments are still veiled in thick darkness. + +By some magic influence the wealthier portion of the multitude have +all obtained entrance, and then, the cathedral being full, the door is +forcibly closed. Directly this occurs the crowd disperse, and while +strangers are still trying to unravel the mystery of such unusual +self-denial, troops of little children and young girls are entering +the Praca dressed in white, wearing silver-tissue wings, snowy festive +wreaths, and carrying on their arms beautiful baskets of cane-work +filled with ranunculuses and lilies. Boys in embroidered tunics and +carrying silver censers follow these, and presently numbers of these +men who had left that the children might take up their proper +positions, now return, having in the meantime provided themselves with +fire-arms and rockets. + +{277} + +While all these changes take place without, preachers are succeeding +each other every half hour in the pulpit within the cathedral. At +length one loud sonorous stroke on a gong, or some other metallic +substance, is heard from the sacristy, announcing the hour of noon, +and then in an instant, as if by magic, the wooden blinds without and +the black curtains within are gone from the windows, the veil which +had concealed the altar disappears, and a blaze of light fills the +edifice, displaying a scene resplendent with gold and gems, tapers and +flowers; while simultaneously with the pouring in of the light, +thrilling and enthusiastic voices singing, "Christ is risen! Christ is +risen!" join the peal which, like a roar of triumph, had burst from +the organ. + +When the multitude have sufficiently recovered the stunning effects of +this scene to separate cause and effect, they perceive that every +pillar and column from pedestal to chapiter is enwreathed with +gorgeous ranunculuses and snowy lilies, mingled with the rich green +leaves of the allegro campo, that crowns and garlands of silver leaves +and artificial dew-drops are scattered profusely, yet with artistic +taste, over the high altar and the various side altars; while pendent +from that masterpiece of art--the sculptured ceiling of native +juniper--are rich chaplets of gold leaves and gems, seeming as if +ready to fall on and crown the heads of the worshippers. + +After a short interval, the bishop, in dazzling robes, wearing his +jewelled mitre, and followed by a train of priests in gorgeous +vestments, is seen standing in front of the high altar, which on this +occasion is covered with a white satin cloth, worked in silver, while +huge candelabras, inlaid with precious stones, gleam in front of the +recesses known as the diaconicum and the prothesis. In the former are +kept the vessels belonging to the altar, and in the other the bread +and wine used at the celebration of the mass. + +A short mass having been performed by priests and choir, the great +door is opened, and the people crowding into the Praca are met by the +little children and young girls strewing flowers over the streets, by +the graceful youths swinging silver censers and filling the ambient +air with light columns of costly incense; by bands playing the most +inspiriting airs; by masquers and others in ordinary costume sending +off rockets and Roman candles, and by hundreds of artisans bearing +fire-arms, the sharp report of which, mingling with the booming of +cannon, the braying of trumpets, and the soft chimes of bells, filled +the air with a most indescribable din. + +In a few moments, however, a cloud overshadows the scene--a cloud +which comes not silently but with a whirring, joyful noise, and with +the beat of fleet pinions. Every one looks up, and behold, there are +the doves--doves in hundreds, sent off by nuns, and monks, and other +devotees, to proclaim in their broad-winged flight the welcome news +that "Christ is risen!" + +Having witnessed all this, and while the joyful excitement is still +unabated, you enter your home, imagining that nothing of the peculiar +usages or customs of a place in which you are a stranger can follow +you there, save the sounds which float in through your shaded windows; +but an agreeable surprise awaits you. The Madeirans are too gentle and +affectionate in their dispositions to forget in a time of such +universal joy even the stranger who may differ from them in religion, +and, accordingly, you find awaiting you a little girl, neatly dressed, +and bearing in her hands a dish covered with a white lace veil. She +has been sent by the nuns, and delivers her present with a suitable +message. + +Uncovering the dish you see a wreath of flowers round the edge, and in +the centre a little lamb made of sugar, lying amidst almond comfits of +{278} every delicate shade of Magenta, blue, and violet. A wreath of +sugar-flowers crowns the head of the lamb, and a similar one graces +its neck. + +With this picturesque gift you may sometimes receive a present of +royal and heavenly bacon. These singularly-named dishes are composed +of eggs and sugar. The first is passed through a hair sieve, falling +in a heap of rings and curls on the dish; the other is made into thick +slices, and lies on the dish drowned in sweet syrup. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY. [Footnote 46] + + [Footnote 46: Prospectus of The Catholic Publication Society. Tract + No. 1, "Indifferentism in Religion and its Remedy." No. 2, "The Plea + of Sincerity." No. 3, "The Forlorn Hope." No. 4, "Prisoner of + Cayonne."] + + +Nothing in the history of the human mind can be more obvious, even to +a superficial observer, than the fact that every age has possessed +intellectual features peculiar to itself, growing out of its own +particular need. Thus we find the mental activity of one period +setting in a strong current toward moral and metaphysical speculation +and of another toward scientific discovery. When one has obtained +predominance, the other has been measurably neglected. + +At the present time, however, the fact is otherwise. The diligence +heretofore manifested in the conquest of special subjects is now +diffused over a greater area; and the energies of the mind, instead of +being concentrated upon the profound and exhaustive knowledge of a few +branches of learning, are directed to the acquisition of a general +knowledge of many. Hence, popular instruction today, to be successful, +must be simplified and condensed, rendered suitable to popular +apprehension and fixed at a point demanding the least amount of mental +labor and promising immediate and tangible results. + +It would need but little argument to show how these conditions of +knowledge have been brought about. The vast development and wonderful +discoveries of science within the last century, the increase of +commercial and mechanical industry, the settlement and growth of +America with its vast resources of wealth, are sufficient to account +for a material change in the intellectual status of Christendom. +Science by increasing the means of human enjoyment has increased the +extent of human wants; these, by the force of habit in one class and +the stimulus of ambition in another, have become in time absolute +necessities. Thus men engage in eager strife to attain what all unite +in esteeming essential to human happiness. + +Now since our nature has moral and intellectual longings--however +subdued by the engrossing occupations of active life--which are still +absolute and imperative, up to a certain point, it would seem that +instruction to suit the exigency of the times must be conveyed in such +a manner and by such means as the opportunities and inclinations of +mankind require. You may easily gain attention to truth by a concise, +simple mode of addressing the intellect, demanding but little time and +not very severe thought, when you cannot secure it by presenting the +subject in a more profound way, by more elaborate proofs or by more +subtle and comprehensive views. If knowledge, therefore, cannot be +imparted in such a way as to suit both the capacity and convenience of +men, it can rarely be communicated at all. {279} What is deemed the +most important pursuit of a man's life is that to which he will pay +the greatest attention. If he cannot attain mental improvement by +means he considers easy and agreeable, the probabilities are that in a +great majority of cases he will neglect it. Here, however, there is +but little difficulty. Whenever a public necessity is fully +recognized, the means of supplying it will not be long wanting. Hence, +we see at the present time every art and science reduced to its +elementary principles and presented to the public mind in plain +rudimentary lessons, so that, while comparatively few are deeply +versed in any one subject, the great mass of thinkers are well +informed in the general outlines of many. + +What has been said with regard to matters more strictly intellectual +may be affirmed with almost equal truth of such as are purely moral. +You may instruct a hundred men in their duty by means of a tract of +ten pages, setting forth incentives to virtue in a cogent argument or +forcible appeal, where you would scarcely be able to obtain a hearing +from one by means of an elaborate essay on ethics, however able or +convincing. Now, it is evident that a duty, carrying all the weight of +deep obligation, rests upon those who have the higher interests of +mankind at heart to provide for them the means of moral and +intellectual improvement; and not only so, but to furnish it in such a +shape as shall be most acceptable and productive of the most hopeful +and lasting results. That such an obligation exists, is apparent from +the general establishment of public and common schools and from the +numerous efforts constantly made to disseminate knowledge among the +masses. The ends here proposed, however, are animated by a sentiment +of general benevolence or political expediency. If, then, we owe to +society the moral and intellectual advancement of the people from +motives of public interest, surely our obligations are not diminished +by those higher considerations which readily suggest themselves to a +religious mind. + +We are now prepared for the question, Are we doing our duty in this +matter? But to bring it nearer home and to address the more immediate +circle of our readers, Are we Catholic Christians doing what we know +to be required of us in the education of our people with sufficient +faithfulness to satisfy an enlightened conscience? Engrossed in more +selfish pursuits, have we not rather neglected this business and +turned it over to others who are only more responsible than ourselves? +We speak to Catholic laymen when we say it is greatly to be feared +that we are not wholly blameless. And here one word as regards the +relative positions of clergy and laity in the church and their mutual +want of co-operation in such things as may fairly come under the +charge of both. + +Every one knows that among all sects of Protestants the laity perform +no inconsiderable amount of labor and share no little responsibility +with the pastor. As teachers and superintendents of Sunday-schools, +leaders of Bible classes, heads of missionary societies and the like, +their influence is much felt and their usefulness highly appreciated +by their co-religionists. Among Catholics, where the priests have +generally three times the ministerial duty of Protestants to perform, +the pastor of a church gets little or no aid from the laity. His +mission may extend over twenty miles of territory, and he is expected +not only to administer the sacraments to both sick and well, but to do +all that is necessary in the religious training of the children. In +fact, the instruction of the young is generally looked upon as +belonging peculiarly to his office. And yet it cannot be denied that +well-disposed laymen of moderate intelligence can at times, acting +under his advice and counsel, very materially assist the overworked +priest without trenching in the least upon his {280} vocation. The +benefit of such assistance could not but be sensibly felt in those +parishes which receive the services of a priest in common with others. +In the more thinly populated districts of our country the want of +priests is a crying necessity, known and felt by every prelate in the +land. It is morally impossible after mass said on Sunday morning, at +two points perhaps fifteen miles apart, that the priest can preach a +sermon and attend to other duties arising from the urgent and +imperative wants of his cure. He cannot administer holy baptism, hear +confessions, visit the sick, bury the dead, say mass, recite his +office, attend to church temporalities (no small affair in some +instances of itself) and yet find time to give the requisite +instruction to his people. + +We can but be aware that regular pulpit instruction is a most +effectual mode of promoting piety and one of which we ought not to be +deprived. We require at least all the agencies for this purpose +enjoyed by others. The people, too, are eager for it. Mark the strict +attention with which Catholic congregations follow every word of the +preacher, and mark, too, the effect of an earnest and appropriate +sermon! It is plainly visible upon the faces of old and young. In +addition to this, the command given in Holy Scripture to preach is +imperative. Are we not, then, bound to more than ordinary exertion to +comply with it? + +Such, unfortunately, is the proneness of men to forget their religious +duties that they require precept upon precept, often renewed and +diligently urged upon their minds. Surrounded by temptation, +forgetfulness of the great practical truths of religion is not strange +in the absence of direct spiritual teaching. The sacraments of the +church, especially the holy sacrifice of the altar, undoubtedly do +much to arrest spiritual decline in the people; but no one will deny +that frequent appeals to the conscience, and judicious instruction in +the principles of Catholic faith and morality, however conveyed to the +understanding, are valuable aids even to the worthy reception of the +sacraments. + +It is to supply the deficiencies here aimed at that this enterprise, +with the hearty approbation of several prelates, has been undertaken, +which, if it shall receive the cordial support of the Catholic public, +will produce results the extent of which is not to be easily foreseen. +Those persons who have attempted the task are actuated with a settled +determination that it shall succeed; and it is not to be believed, in +a matter of so great moment, that they are to be left without the +substantial help of Catholics throughout the country. A society has +been formed, and its work has already begun, styled "The Catholic +Publication Society," to which the attention of our readers was called +in our last number. This society proposes to issue short tracts and +pamphlets conveying that species of instruction required by Catholics +in the most entertaining form, so as to engage the attention, affect +the hearts, and suit the wants of all classes. To none would such a +blessing be more welcome than to the poor, who are in an especial +manner, from their very defencelessness, under our protection. These, +though they may not read themselves, can listen to their children, +taught at school, who can read for them. Thus, in a simple narrative +or dialogue some important practical truths may be impressed upon the +mind which shall do good service in a moment of temptation. It is by +these means that other denominations are instructing their people and +producing an influence on many outside of their own communions. + +The number of Catholics in this country, already large, is constantly +increasing, and unless we do something of the kind here suggested, +others will attempt it in our stead. Religious tracts from Protestant +societies are flying over the country like leaves before the autumn +wind, and it {281} would not be remarkable if our own people were +brought within the range of their influence. + +Beside this, there is another field in which we have not only the +right to work, but which we cannot, or at least ought not to, neglect. +There are thousands of young men in the land of fair education who, +impelled by necessity or ambition, flock to the great commercial +centres. These, careless in matters of religion, having no settled +principles of faith, often called upon to confront great dangers and +temptations, seldom attend any place of worship; or if so, only to +relieve the ennui of Sunday. These are souls to be cared for. They +need instruction upon cardinal points of the Christian faith. They may +have received something akin to it in early youth, but it has been +forgotten. They are difficult to reach, and in no way can access to +them be gained more readily than by the publications of this society. +A few words of earnest advice, a hint as to the end of a vicious +career, or a warning of the uncertainty of life, may excite +reflection, and reflection is the first step toward reformation. + +At a time like the present of vast intellectual activity, when myriads +of books are produced on all subjects embracing every description of +teaching, there must be abroad not only a great mass of error, but a +great number of unstable minds ready to receive it. Men imperfectly +educated, striving to master subjects far beyond their comprehension, +trained to no logical modes of thought, restrained by no respect for +authority, confounding scepticism with freedom of inquiry, are often +led by a dangerous curiosity to examine certain fundamental questions +which lie at the root of all knowledge, and which can only be safely +handled by the most learned and profound. Such is the class of persons +peculiarly to be benefited by Catholic teaching. A theology positive +and satisfying to the soul, that sets wholesome limits to human +knowledge, and is able to give adequate answers to great social and +moral problems, is best adapted to impress minds of this class. The +reading of three pages has before now convinced a man of the error of +his whole philosophical system, and may do it again. + +The spirit of Catholic charity takes in all sorts and conditions of +men. The mission of the church is well defined, and may be summed up +in one word, namely, to convert the world to God; and as every day +brings its blessings upon labors that have been already undertaken to +secure this object, we have reason to hope that new efforts and fresh +zeal, well directed, will produce abundant fruits. + +We cannot close this notice of the Catholic Publication Society +without adverting to one means of usefulness which we think it is +especially fitted to promote. + +Such has been the virulence of hostility to the Catholic religion in +days gone by, such the monstrous credulity and unreasoning prejudice +of its foes, that it is not surprising to find a true knowledge of the +Catholic faith exceedingly rare. Within the last twenty years, +however, a great change has taken place. The general blamelessness of +life in those who honor their religion, fidelity to social and +political duties, and charity toward our enemies, have not been +without precious results. At the present moment religious bigotry can +no longer animate the hatred alike of wise and simple. One who comes +prepared to censure, must come prepared also for the conflict of +truth. Statements, facts, and opinions are closely scrutinized. +Everything is not now taken upon trust. The attitude of controversy +begets caution. Now, what advantages may we not hope to reap from this +one isolated fact? A fair hearing for the true exposition of Catholic +doctrine; not doctrine carefully prepared with exterior show of +fairness and then imputed to us for the purpose of being more easily +{282} destroyed; but of the truths of Christianity as taught by the +church for ages. When we can gain the unprejudiced ear of the world, +truly we may begin to hope for the day of Christian unity. + +To disarm prejudice is of itself a work worthy of special effort. We +can hope to make no great progress in persuading men to listen to the +voice of Christian truth until we can convince them that our teaching +rests upon the basis of sound reason. Those who have been told that to +embrace Catholic doctrine is to surrender at discretion all the powers +of the mind, and even the evidence of the senses, must be undeceived +before they can be expected to make any progress in the impartial +investigation of it. But it is chiefly among Catholics themselves that +we predict the greatest success for this association. Of our own +people there are very many who need that instruction which hitherto we +have not had the adequate means of providing for them. We all feel how +important it is that every Catholic should be thoroughly intelligent +upon all that he is required to believe, and the reasons that exist +for requiring it. In every class of society Catholics are called upon +to render an account of the faith that is in them, to explain the +doctrines and ceremonies of their religion, and when unable to do so, +they both suffer the evil consequences of this ignorance themselves +and, by it, retard the spread of the knowledge of the truth among +those whom the church is equally commissioned to enlighten, guide, and +save. + +We have advocated the aims of the Catholic Publication Society at +greater length than we at first intended, but feel that in +consideration of their importance we have not said too much. It is +impossible to over-estimate the good this society may, with God's +blessing, be made to accomplish. To make it effective, its +organization throughout the United States should be co-extensive with +the church itself. Our work in this country is getting ahead of us. +The religious needs of our people are rapidly increasing. If we are +not up and doing in proper season, we shall find that during our +repose the enemy has been sowing tares among the wheat. The harvest is +great, but the laborers few. Let us all, then, as God gives us grace +to know our duty, take this matter earnestly to heart, and let us not +suffer under the reproach of denying to our fellow-Christians all the +spiritual food they are willing to receive. + +What is here proposed is truly a missionary work. Efforts of this kind +can only be successful by zealous labor and generous support; and we +sincerely hope, as the plan by which funds are to be raised becomes +generally known, the Catholic public will not deny liberal aid to so +worthy a cause. Almost every one can lend a helping hand. It will be +seen by reference to the Society's Prospectus that the sum of five +dollars constitutes a member for one year. Parents could hardly +gratify their children more than by subscribing for them. It gives +young folks the idea that they amount to something in this world when +they find their own names enrolled on the books of a religious +society. The sum of thirty dollars constitutes a member for five years +and of fifty dollars a life member. Patrons of one hundred and five +hundred dollars will not be wanting amongst so many generous and +appreciative Catholics as there are in the country. A number of these +last have already come forward in the city of New York, and subscribed +that amount to constitute a fund to enable the society to accomplish +its missionary work, and we are sure that this call will elicit a +similar ready response from many in other cities and towns who wait +only to know what to do for the advancement of their holy faith in +order to do it. Your parish priest is willing to spend and be spent in +your service. Show your gratitude by making him a member of one of the +above classes. He will accept it from you as a beautiful testimonial +of {283} your esteem and respect. It has also been suggested by an +eminent prelate and patron of the society that it would greatly +promote its success if a clergyman should be appointed in each diocese +by the ecclesiastical authority, to take charge of the society's +interests, and to act as its agent. + +We trust as the enterprise becomes more extensively known that +generous hearts will be found to feel a voluntary interest in this +work and prompted to aid it without further solicitation. Let it not +be forgotten that one of the objects of this society is to supply +religious reading to the inmates of hospitals, almshouses, asylums, +and prisons--a class of persons whose spiritual welfare requires to be +specially looked after. Benevolence has no more sacred field than +among this unfortunate class; and we hope that those who have so often +proved themselves worthy of their faith by relieving the physical +wants of their fellow-creatures, will not be found indifferent to the +spiritual. In short, what we desire of our fellow-Catholics is, that +an interest in this matter should become general throughout the +country; and that each one should assist as he is able, either alone +or in conjunction with his neighbors. Several prelates have already +become patrons of this society, and the venerable Archbishop of +Baltimore has honored it by contributing the first tract. + +While treating of the practical part of this subject, we desire to say +that priests residing in the remote parts of the country can be +furnished with the society's publications on precisely the same terms +as those living near at hand. They will be supplied at prices _never +exceeding cost_, postage prepaid. All Catholics, in every section of +our land, have an equal interest in its success. + +Upon the co-operation of the clergy we, of course, confidently rely. +To aid them in their arduous duties is one of the objects of the +society. It will be a most powerful auxiliary to the priesthood in +spreading instruction among our own people and the truths of the +Catholic faith among all classes of our community. If they should ask +us what we would have them do, we reply--"Reflect upon the immense +importance of this enterprise to the souls of men; and, when you have +comprehended what a vast work of usefulness lies before this society, +your own intelligence and good dispositions will best suggest the +manner in which you can most successfully lend your aid." + +------ + +NEW PUBLICATIONS. + + +THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND A PORTION OF CHRIST'S ONE HOLY +CATHOLIC CHURCH, AND A MEANS OF RESTORING VISIBLE UNITY. +An Eirenicon, in a Letter to the Author of "The Christian Year." By E. +B. Pusey, D.D., Regius Professor of Hebrew and Canon of Christ Church, +Oxford. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1866. (Reprint from the English +edition.) + +Dr. Pusey's "Eirenicon" has been extensively commented on by the +Catholic press both in England and on the Continent. Some of his +critics have regarded it with favorable eyes, as a sign of approach +toward the Catholic Church, and others with marked hostility, as an +evidence of determined opposition. We concur with the former class +most decidedly. The most remarkable of all the answers it has called +forth is that of Dr. Newman, republished in our April number, and +since then issued in a separate form, with all the notes, by Mr. +Kehoe. Dr. Newman confines himself to one point, however--the defence +of the {284} Catholic doctrine concerning the Blessed Virgin. The +"Dublin Review" has given a very able criticism on the portion which +relates to the attitude of the Church of England. An admirable article +has also appeared in the learned Jesuit periodical, "Etudes +Religieuses," published at Paris, which is especially valuable for its +exposition of the doctrinal authority of the Holy See. As a general +answer to Dr. Pusey's specific proposals concerning the way of +reconciliation with Rome, we consider P. Lockhart's article, in the +"Weekly Register," as the most judicious and satisfactory. The +following letter, from Dr. Pusey to the editor, shows how he himself +appreciated this answer: + +LETTER FROM DR. PUSEY +ON HIS HOPES OF REUNION. + + TO THE EDITOR OF THE WEEKLY REGISTER: + CHRIST CHURCH, OXFORD, NOV. 22, 1865. + + Sir: I thank you, with all my heart, for your kind-hearted and + appreciative review of my "Eirenicon." I am thankful that you have + brought out the main drift and objects of it, what, in my mind, + underlies the whole, to show that, in my conviction, there is no + insurmountable obstacle to the union of (you will forgive the terms, + though you must reject them) the Roman, Greek, and Anglican + communions. I have long been convinced that there is nothing in the + Council of Trent which could not be explained satisfactorily to us, + if it were explained _authoritatively--i.e._ by the Roman Church + itself, not by individual theologians only. This involves the + conviction, on my side, that there is nothing in our Articles which + cannot be explained rightly, as not contradicting any things held to + be _de fide_ in the Roman Church. The great body of the faith is + held alike by both; in those subjects referred to in our Art. XXII. + I believe (to use the language of a very eminent Italian nobleman) + "your [our] _maximum_ and our [your] _minimum_ might be found to + harmonize." In regard to details of explanation, it was not my + office, as being a priest only, invested with no authority, to draw + them out. But I wished to indicate their possibility. You are + relatively under the same circumstances. But I believe that the hope + which you have held out, that the authorities in the Roman communion + _might_ hold that "a reunion on the principles of Bossuet would be + better than a perpetual schism," will unlock many a pent-up + longing--pent-up on the ground of the apparent hopelessness that + Rome would accord to the English Church any terms which it could + accept. + + May I add, that nothing was further from my wish than to write + anything which should be painful to those in your communion? A + defence, indeed, of necessity, involves some blame; since, in a + quarrel, the blame must be wholly on the one side or on the other, + or divided; and a defence implies that it is not wholly on the side + defended. But having smoothed down, as I believe honestly, every + difficulty I could, to my own people, I thought that it would not be + right toward them not to state where I conceive the real difficulty to + lie. Nor could your authorities meet our difficulties unless they knew + them. You will think it superfluous that I desired that none of this + system, which is now matter of "pious opinion," should, like the + doctrine of the immaculate conception be made _de fide_. But, in the + view of a hoped-for reunion, everything which you do affects us. Let + me say, too, that I did not write as a reformer, but on the + defensive. It is not for us to prescribe to Italians or Spaniards + what they shall hold, or how they shall express their pious + opinions. All which we wish is to have it made certain by authority + that we should not, in case of reunion, be obliged to hold them + ourselves. Least of all did I think of imputing to any of the + writers whom I quoted that they "took from our Lord any of the love + which they gave to his mother." I was intent only on describing the + system which I believe is the great obstacle to reunion. I had not + the least thought of criticising holy men who held it. + + As it is of moment that I should not be misunderstood by my own + people, let me add that I have not intended to express any opinion + about a visible head of the church. _We readily acknowledge the + primary of the Bishop of Rome; the bearings of that primacy upon + other local churches we believe to be a matter of ecclesiastical, + not of divine law; but neither is there anything in the supremacy in + itself to which we should object._ Our only fear is that it should, + through the appointment of one bishop, involve the reception of that + practical _quasi_--authoritative system which is, I believe, alike + the cause and (forgive me) the justification in our eyes of our + remaining apart. + + But, although I intended to be on the defensive, I thank you most + warmly for that tenderness which enabled you to see my aim and + objects throughout a long and necessarily miscellaneous work. And I + believe that the way in which you have treated this our _bonâtell + you fide_ "endeavor to find a basis for reunion, on the principle + debated between Archbishop Wake and the Gallican divines two + centuries ago," will, by rekindling hope, give a strong {285} + impulse toward that reunion. Despair is still. If hope is revived in + the English mind that Christendom may again be united, rekindled + hope will ascend in the more fervent prayer to him who "maketh men + to be of one mind in an house," and our prayers will not return + unheard for want of love. Your obedient servant, + + E. B. PUSEY. + + +This letter, with others which have appeared from time to time, and +the whole course of Dr. Pusey's conduct, prove, in our estimation, +that he is acting with sincere good faith and goodwill toward the +Catholic Church. The long list of objections and charges which his +book contains, and which has irritated some Catholics so much, proves +only that Dr. Pusey's mind is troubled and bewildered, but not that +his heart is malevolent. The doctor is a very learned man, and a very +deep thinker, but in the mystic or contemplative order. He is not +either rapid or clear in his intellectual conceptions, nor is he +precise and methodical in the arrangement of the subject of which he +treats. He represents the best school of English evangelical and +scriptural divines, with the addition of extremely high-church +doctrines. No one can question his devout and deeply religious spirit, +the extraordinary purity and goodness of his life, or the zeal and +ability with which he has labored for fifty years to propagate several +of the most fundamental Catholic dogmas. His essay on baptismal +regeneration is the most thorough and exhaustive one in our language, +and we have never met with anything equal to it in any other. It has +had an incalculable influence over the theological mind of the +Episcopalian communion in England and America, in laying the +foundation of a right belief in sacramental grace, and thus preparing +the way for the reception of the entire Catholic system. The same may +be said, in part, respecting the doctrine of the real presence, the +authority of tradition, and other points. We look on him as a kind of +_avant courier_ not only of high-churchmen, but of orthodox +Protestants generally, laboring his way with difficulty through +thickets and morasses back to the Catholic Church, by dint of study, +meditation, and prayer. That he has come so near, bringing with him +the sympathy of so large a number, is a sign that an extraordinary +grace of the Holy Spirit is drawing the most widely separated members +of the Christian family back to unity and integrity of faith and +communion. We request our readers to take note of the fact that Dr. +Pusey, boldly and without censure, maintains that the articles of his +church can and ought to be explained in conformity with the decrees of +the Council of Trent. He proposes these decrees as the basis of +reconciliation. That there should still remain certain difficulties, +prepossessions, and misconceptions in his mind, is not strange; and +while these exist as a bar to a complete and cordial reception of the +entire Catholic system, there is no other way for him to do but to +state them as strongly as possible, so as to bring them under +discussion. There are only two of these difficulties which are +formidable. One relates to the office of the Blessed Virgin as Mother +of the Incarnate Word and Queen of Saints; the other, to that of the +Pope as Vicar of Christ and supreme Bishop of the Catholic Church. A +critical notice gives no opportunity for discussing such great and +grave questions, which demand an elaborate volume. The prelates and +theologians of the church will no doubt give them the full and ample +treatment which they deserve. We simply note the fact that the whole +ground of discussion is reduced in fact, by Dr. Pusey, to the nature +and extent of the Papal supremacy, on which depends the definition of +the body actually constituting the _Ecclesia Docens_ or teaching +church, and the dogmatic value of the decisions made by the Roman +Church with the concurrence of the bishops in her communion. It is +evident that the concession of the supremacy claimed by the Roman +Church involves the admission of all the dogmatic decisions of the +councils ratified by the popes as ecumenical, from the Eighth Council +to the Council of Trent; together with the dogmatic definition of the +immaculate conception, and the condemnations of heretical propositions +which have issued from the Holy See and are universally acknowledged +and enforced by all bishops in her communion. There is but one point, +therefore, really in controversy with the party of Dr. Pusey, as there +is but one with the so-called Greek Church, viz.: the Papal supremacy. + +It will be noticed by every attentive reader that Dr. Pusey partially +admits {286} this doctrine already, and shows himself open to argument +on the subject. On the other great question, respecting the +prerogatives of the Blessed Virgin Mary, he appears to show himself +also disposed to listen to explanations tending to remove his +misconceptions. In a letter to Dr. Wordsworth, published in the +"Weekly Register," of Jan. 27, Dr. Pusey says: + + "In regard to 'the immaculate conception,' . . . I may, however, + take this opportunity of saying that I understand that Roman divines + hold that all which is defined is, that the soul of the Blessed + Virgin was infused pure into her body, and was preserved from both + guilt and taint of original sin for those merits of our Lord, by + whom she was redeemed, and that nothing is defined as to 'active + conception,' i.e., that of her body. In this case, the words, 'in + primo instanti conceptionis suae,' must be used in a different sense + from that in which St. Thomas uses it of our Lord. The + immaculateness of the conception would then differ in degree, not in + kind, from that of Jeremiah, who was sanctified in his mother's + womb." + +It must be borne in mind that Dr. Pusey finds no fault with the +language of the Latin or Greek missals and breviaries respecting the +Blessed Virgin. Let the quotations from the Greek books in the notes +to Dr. Newman's letter be carefully examined, and it will be seen that +they fully sustain the common Catholic belief and practice. We have +been ourselves fully acquainted with the doctrine and practice of the +children of St. Alphonsus Liguori, who are considered as having +carried devotion to the Blessed Virgin to the greatest extreme. We +can, therefore, give our testimony that there is nothing in it which +is not identical in principle with the prescribed devotions of the +missal and breviary. The notion of there being a substitution of the +Blessed Virgin for Christ, or an overshadowing of the supreme worship +and love of God, anywhere in the Catholic Church, is a mere chimaera, +a spectral illusion of an alarmed imagination. We know what St. +Bernard, St. Alphonsus, and other approved writers have said. There is +nothing there beyond the language of St. Ephrem, the fathers of +Ephesus, the Greek liturgies, the _Salve Regina, Regina Coeli, Ave +Domina_, and litany of Loretto. + +The array of quotations which Dr. Pusey has made from Catholic writers +will be found, on critical examination, to contain nothing formidable. +One of the works from which he quotes, that of Oswald, was placed on +the Index in 1855, and retracted by the author. Some of the other +passages are from works of a highly imaginative character, and contain +figurative or poetic expressions easily susceptible of an erroneous +sense when read by persons not intimately acquainted with the Catholic +religion. We think with Dr. Newman, with the late Archbishop Kenrick, +and with many other wise and holy men, that it is very ill-judged to +adopt such phraseology when it is sure to beget bewilderment and +misunderstanding. We have more need to teach the solid dogmas of faith +than to propagate pious opinions, and cultivate exotic, hot-house +flowers of piety. Dr. Newman has done more to establish a solid +devotion to the Blessed Virgin, by his brief theological essay, than +all the fanciful and rhetorical rhapsodies ever penned. We can forgave +Dr. Pusey for getting bewildered in perusing such a quantity of +poetry, accustomed as he is to Hebrew and other dry studies; but we +regret that he has displayed such an assortment of obscure and dark +sayings to bewilder others. We acquit him cheerfully of all blame for +it, but we nevertheless cannot help giving our deliberate judgment +that he has put forth one of the most mischievous books, to ordinary +and imperfectly informed minds, that has ever proceeded from the +English press. We cannot by any means recommend it to general perusal, +but those who do read it will do well to take its statements, on many +points, with great caution. We will conclude our remarks upon it with +noting some of its serious, albeit unintentional, misstatements: + +1. The correspondence between Archbishop Wake and Du Pin was not a +_bonâ fide_ negotiation between that prelate and orthodox Gallicans, +but with Jansenists, in view of a coalition against the Roman Church. + +2. There is no proof of any ratification ever having been made by Rome +of any ordinations according to the Anglican ordinal. + +3. It is a mistake to say that extreme unction is given only to those +whose life is despaired of. It may be given {287} in all cases where a +probable danger of death is feared. + +4. It is not admitted by Catholic writers that Russia was converted by +missionaries separated from the communion of the Roman Church. + +5. It is a mistake to suppose that the prelates of the United States +gave no response to the Holy See respecting the definition of the +immaculate conception. The question was discussed in a full council, +and the judgment of' the prelates was transmitted to Rome in favor of +the definition. The Blessed Virgin, under the title of the Immaculate +Conception, was proclaimed, by a decree of the prelates, the patroness +of the Church of the United States, and the Sunday within the octave +of the feast has been made one of the principal solemnities of the +year. + +Finally, a complete misconception of the whole question respecting +Papal infallibility and its limits underlies and vitiates all the +statements of the book on that subject. There is no dissension or +doubt existing in the Catholic episcopate in regard to any definition +of faith, or any doctrinal decisions whose acceptance is exacted by +the Holy See under pain of censure. The Pope and the bishops, as the +infallible _Ecclesia Docens_, are a unit. What one teaches and +requires to be believed, all teach alike. The unity of faith in the +episcopate was never so palpable a fact as it is at the present +moment. So far as relates to disciplinary authority over doctrinal +matters, the Roman Church is recognized in universal Catholic law as +the court of ultimate appeal, and all questions respecting the +interpretation of the definitions of the Council of Trent, which are +the great standard of orthodoxy, were expressly reserved to it by the +bull of confirmation, with the assent of the council itself, and by +the decree _De Recipiendis_, etc. There is no possibility, therefore, +of negotiating with the Catholic Church, or any portion of it, for +reconciliation, except through the head of the church. The conditions +of reconciliation are plain and distinct, and they will never be +modified so far as relates to doctrine or essential discipline. +Explanation, courtesy, benignant interpretation, full liberty in +regard to mere theological opinions, will be cheerfully accorded; but +no more. + +It is vain to expect any propositions for reconciliation to come from +the hierarchy of the Protestant Episcopal Church of England or +America. We advise those who desire the reunion of Christendom to +consider, carefully, the claims of the Roman Church, and if they are +convinced of their validity to effect their own personal union with +the mother and mistress of churches. If they are not, we do not wish +them to come to us, either singly or in a body. Those who really +become Catholics will desire to become members of the Catholic Church +as she is, and not of a reformed body, conglomerated from the +Catholic, Russian, and Anglican churches, and will not thank us to +concede an iota of principle. Strict, dogmatic unity, and +unconditional submission to the supreme authority of the See of Peter, +is the only condition of union in ecclesiastical fellowship. The +Greeks themselves have exacted that the question of dogma should be +settled first, before any propositions of intercommunion with +Anglicans can be entertained; so that the hope of obtaining +recognition from them, with the question of dogma left open, has been +overthrown. Our other Protestant brethren have embroiled themselves +worse than ever over their projects for an anti-Catholic union of +sects. There is not the faintest chance of any reunion of Christians +except by a return to the centre of unity. + +We are glad to see that Dr. Pusey has been passing some time with +Catholic bishops in France, and that there is a probability of his +going to Rome to confer with the Holy Father. We trust the learned and +venerable doctor will do so, and that he will find his doubts and +perplexities settled at the Seat of Truth, the chair of the Prince of +the Apostles, whence all unity takes its rise. + + +NOTES ON DOCTRINAL AND SPIRITUAL SUBJECTS. +By the late Frederick William Faber, D.D., etc. Vol. I. Mysteries and +Festivals. London; Richardson & Son, 1866. New York: Lawrence Kehoe. + +Father Faber was a man of cultivated mind, rich imagination, high +poetic gifts, exuberant sensibility, and ardent devotion. His life was +rich in good works and his death deeply regretted. In a literary point +of view we consider his poetry as the best portion {288} of the +products of his fertile mind and pen. His spiritual works, however, +have attained a great popularity and a wide circulation, and no doubt +have done and will do great good to that large class who love and +require instructions deeply imbued with sentiment and emotion. The +present volume consists of sketches of instructions never finished, +and is intended as an aid in preparing sermons or conferences on +spiritual subjects. We are glad to see that F. Faber's life is in +preparation, and shall await its publication with interest. If well +done, it cannot fail to be one of the most attractive of biographies. +The life and writings of F. Faber are well suited to please and +benefit a large class of Protestants as well as Catholics. We have +heard not only Episcopalians and Unitarians speak in warm terms of the +pleasure they take in his books, but even an aged and venerable +Presbyterian clergyman recite his poetry with enthusiasm. We do not +consider his works to be beyond criticism, and, for those who are able +to bear it, we regard the more solid and plain food of F. Augustine +Baker and Father Lallemant as more wholesome. But every one has his +own proper gift, and that of Father Faber was evidently to make +spiritual doctrine sweet and palatable to a vast number of persons who +would not receive it except through the avenue of sensibility. His +works are a wilderness of flowers and foliage; nevertheless they +contain a doctrine which is substantially sound and useful, and their +general aim and tendency is to establish solid, practical piety and +virtue. The volume before us is replete with thoughts and conceptions +redolent with all the peculiar vividness and brilliancy of the +author's style, and exhibiting also extensive and profound knowledge +of theology. We con recommend it to clergymen who wish for a treasury +of choice materials wherewith to enrich and enliven their discourses, +as a more complete and suggestive manual than any we have in the +English language, and one which may be used to great advantage if used +judiciously. It would be a very unsafe experiment, however, to attempt +a close imitation of F. Faber's style, especially for young and +inexperienced preachers, who might meet the fate of Icarus attempting +to fly with waxen wings. We cannot, therefore, unreservedly recommend +this volume as containing the best _models_ for imitation, but only in +a qualified sense as extremely suggestive and quickening to thought +and sentiment, and thus furnishing the materials and ornaments for +discourses planned and constructed in a plainer and more sober style. +We think it likely to become a great favorite with a large class of +clergymen, especially those who are anxious to make their sermons as +attractive as possible, and well fitted to be of great service to them +in the way we have indicated. + + +THE GRAHAMES. By Mrs. Trafford +Whitehead. American News Company. 1 volume 12mo, pp. 382. + +This is a commonplace, _fashionable_ novel, written in an inflated +style. Its sentiment is weak, its pathos twaddle, and its tone and +morality low and reprehensible. We hope none of our young people will +read it; but if they do that they will not imitate the heroine who +finds it her _mission_ to stay in a gentleman's house, in the capacity +of governess to a namby-pamby child, after she has discovered that the +lady is cold as ice, and the gentleman, whose eyes she cannot +understand, has _accidentally_ betrayed his penchant for herself. + +The lady, as in duty bound, dies, and the governess, of course, +marries the gentleman. + + +CHRISTUS JUDEX: A Traveller's Tale. +By Edward Roth. 12mo, pp. 78. Philadelphia: F. Leypoldt. 1864. + +This is a piece of composition full of beauty and marked by the most +refined taste. There is a chaste elegance, too, about the typography +and binding which is highly creditable to the publisher. It is just +such a book as one wishes to find to present as a gift to a friend. We +heartily recommend it to all our readers. + + [Transcriber's note: This section was printed in small type; many + words are merely guesses.] + +BOOKS RECEIVED. + +From D. Appleton & Co., New York: The Temporal Mission of the Holy +Ghost; or Reason and Revelation, by Henry Edward, Archbishop of +Westminster 12mo, pp. 274. + +F. W. Christ???, New York: Victor Hugo's Les Travalileurs de las Mer. +Edition special pour les Etats-Unis. + +P. O'Shea, New York: Nos. 23, 24 and 25 of Darras' History of the +Church. + +Brophy & Burch, Washington, D.C: Argument in the Supreme Court of +United States of America, by Alexander J. P. Careschi[?], in the case +of the Rev. Mr. Cummings, plaintiff in error, vs. the state of +Missouri, defendant in error. + +{289} + + +THE CATHOLIC WORLD. + + +VOL. III., NO. 15.--JUNE, 1866. + + +[ORIGINAL] + + +PROBLEMS OF THE AGE. + + +III. + +THE BELIEF IN GOD IS THE FIRST ARTICLE OF A RELIGIOUS CREED. + +The first article of the Christian Creed is "Credo in Deum"--"I +believe in God." The Christian child receives this originally by +instruction before it attains the complete use of reason, and believes +it by a natural faith in the word of those who teach it. Afterward it +attains to a clearer and more distinct conception of its meaning and +truth. This conception, however, is still furnished to it by Christian +theology, and by theology itself is referred back to a revelation +whose beginning is coeval with the human race. The fact just stated in +regard to the belief of the Christian child is also true in regard to +the belief of mankind universally. Wherever the idea of God, as +exhibited by pure, theistic philosophy, is contained in the common +belief of the people, it is held as a portion of some religious system +purporting to be derived from revelation. It is learned from the +instruction of religious teachers, and transmitted by a sacred +tradition. We do not attain to the conception of God by the +spontaneous, unaided evolution of it in our individual reason. Those +nations which remain in the state of infancy, through a lack of the +civilizing and instructing power, do not attain to that conception. +The only way in which pure, theistic conceptions have ever been +communicated to any considerable number of persons previously +destitute of them, has been by the instruction of those who already +possessed them. + +This tradition goes back to the original creation of the race. Mankind +was originally constituted by the Almighty in a state of civilized and +enlightened society, fully furnished with that sacred treasure which +tradition diffuses universally, and which constitutes {290} the +inherited capital on which all the precious gain and increase in +science, civilization, and every kind of intellectual and moral +wealth, are based. It is in this way that the conception of God, which +the founders of the human race received by immediate revelation, has +been preserved and transmitted by universal tradition. In the pure and +legitimate line of descent it has come down uncorrupted through the +line of patriarchs and prophets to Jesus Christ, who has promulgated +it anew in such a manner as to secure its inviolable preservation to +the end of time. Indirectly, and subject to various changes and +corruptions, it has descended through human language and law, through +civilization and science, through Gentile literature and mythology, +and through philosophy. Directly or indirectly, all the conceptions of +mankind respecting God, whether perfect or imperfect, crude or mature, +have been transmitted by tradition from the original and primitive +revelation made to the founders of the race. + +The universal utterance of mankind is, and always has been, "Credo in +Deum." This is a common credence, possessed by the race from the +beginning, which the individual mind receives and acquiesces in with +more or less of intelligent belief and understanding, but never +totally eradicates from among its conceptions. It is a credence +perfectly enunciated in that divine revelation which the Christian +church possesses in its integrity, and communicates in the most +complete and explicit manner to all those who receive her +instructions. + +Here may easily arise a misunderstanding. Some one will say: "You +appear to resolve all our knowledge of God into an act of faith in a +revelation handed down from the past. But the very conception of +revelation implies the previous conception of God, who makes the +revelation. Faith in a revealed doctrine is based on the veracity of +God, who reveals it. But in order that one may be able to make this +act of faith, he must previously know that God is, and that he is +veracious. Thus, we must believe that God is veracious because it is +revealed, and believe this revealed doctrine that he is veracious +because of his veracity. This is a vicious circle, and gives no basis +whatever for rational belief." + +This objection has really been anticipated and obviated in the +preceding chapter. A full understanding of the answer to it will +require a careful reading of the present chapter entire, and perhaps +of the greater part of the succeeding ones. Just now, we simply reply +to the objector that we do not, as he imagines, resolve the evidence +of God's existence, and of other rational truths, into a tradition or +revelation. We hold firmly that these truths are provable by reason. +In speaking of revelation or tradition as our instructor in the +doctrine of God, what is meant is this: The correct and complete +formula, the divine word, or infallible speech, expressing in the +sensible signs of human language the explicit conception of that +divine idea which is constitutive of the soul's very rational +existence,--this _formula_ has been handed down by tradition from the +origin of the race. We do not propose this tradition as a mere +exterior authority to which the mind must submit blindly, from which +it must derive its rational activity, or in which it must locate its +criterion of rational certitude. We admit the obligation of proving +that this tradition is universal and divine. So far as the doctrines +it proposes are within the sphere of reason, we hold that reason +receives them because they are self-evident, or capable of being +deduced from that which is self-evident. Thus, for instance, in +proposing the veracity of God as the ground of faith in his +revelation, it is proposed as a truth evident by the light of reason. +Reason, however, is indebted to the instruction which comes by +tradition for that clear and distinct statement of the being and +attributes {291} of God, including his infinite and eternal veracity, +which brings the mind to a reflective consciousness of its own +primitive idea. + +This may be illustrated by a comparison of the exterior word or +revelation with that interior word or revelation which creates the +soul and gives it the natural light of reason. The word of God spoken +in the creative act creates the rational soul, and affirms to it his +being and the existence of creatures, including that of the soul +itself. This is a revelation. All natural knowledge is a revelation +from God. Our belief in the reality of the outward world, and of our +own existence, is resolved into a belief in the reality of the +creative act of God, or of that spoken word by which he creates the +world. We see no difficulty here, because we see that the word of God, +in this case, enlightens the soul to see the truth of that which it +declares to it. We need not find any more difficulty in the case of +the exterior word. When this exterior, word declares plainly to an +ignorant mind the nature and attributes of God, and the obligation of +believing and obeying the truth revealed by him, this word also +enlightens that mind to perceive the truth of what it declares. It +illuminates the soul to see more distinctly the truths that are within +the sphere of reason by direct, rational perception; and to see +indirectly and indistinctly those truths which are above reason, in +the self-evident truth of God's veracity, and in the analogies and +correspondences which exist between these truths and those which are +directly apprehended by reason. + +This is anticipating what is to be treated of expressly hereafter. We +trust it is now plain that we do not profess to derive the idea of God +in the human race, and in each individual mind, from a mere outward +tradition, or to prove its reality from a mere authoritative dictum of +revelation. What we really intend to do is, to exhibit the conception +of God contained in Christian theology, for the purpose of showing its +objective truth and reality by a rational method. In the first place, +we wish to bring out the conception itself as clearly as possible; to +describe a circle in language vast and perfect enough to include all +that is intelligible to human reason respecting God and his +perfections. In the second place, to review the different methods of +proving to reason the objective reality of this conception. And +finally, to propose what we believe to be the best and most complete +method of presenting to the reflective consciousness of the soul the +certitude of its positive judgment, affirming the being of God. +[Footnote 47] + + [Footnote 47: In the actual treatment of the subject, this order has + been changed for the sake of convenience.] + +A great task, certainly! Some may regard it as on evidence of +presumption to undertake it. Truly, if one should propose the +conception of the being of the infinite God as a mere hypothesis; +criticising and condemning the arguments of great men respecting it as +illogical and unsuccessful attempts to prove it; professing to have +discovered or invented some new process of demonstrating the problem, +and thus pretend to make that certain which has hitherto been doubtful +or probable, it would argue the height of arrogance and presumption. +We do not, however, propose any such thing. The idea of God +constitutes the very existence and life of the human soul. The +conception of God, more or less perfectly explicated, is the +possession of the human race universal, and in its completely +explicated form it is the possession of the church universal of all +ages. It is the treasure of universal theology and philosophy, handed +down by an universal and inviolable tradition not of mere dead words +and logical forms, but of the living thought and belief of all the +sages and saints of the earth. The truth that {292} God is, and is +infinitely perfect in his attributes, is the infallible and +irreversible judgment of the reason of mankind, whether naturally or +supernaturally enlightened. All that an individual can do is to +attempt to gain a distinct apprehension and a correct verbal +expression of the self-luminous idea which shines in all philosophy, +but especially in Christian Catholic philosophy. It is a mistake, +then, to consider an argument respecting the being of God as a mere +logical process, conducting from some known premises to an unknown +conclusion; a process in which any incorrectness in analysis or +deduction vitiates the result and leaves the unsolved problem to the +efforts of some new candidate for the honor of first discovering the +solution. The reflex conceptions of that infallible affirmation of God +to the soul which constitutes its rational existence must be +substantially correct. This is especially the case where revelation +furnishes a perfect and infallible outward expression of that inward +conception which the reflective reason is laboring to acquire. +Therefore we consider that there is a real agreement among all +theistic and Christian philosophers. All have true intellectual +conceptions of the idea of God. Yet there may be some of these +conceptions which, though true, are confused. Again, in the multiplied +reflex action of the mind upon itself and its own judgments and +conceptions, there may be some imperfections in the analysis or +critical examination of the component parts of the idea, in the +synthesis or construction of these component parts into an ideal +formula, and in the language by which verbal expression is given to +the conceptions of the mind. What is to be aimed at is, to obtain +intellectual conceptions which are clear and adequate to the idea, and +a verbal expression which is also clear and adequate to the mental +conception. In this direction lies the true path of progress in +Christian philosophy. It is a continual effort to apprehend more +clearly and adequately in the intelligence the conceptions given to +our reflective reason by revelation, and to express these conceptions +more clearly and intelligibly in language. Hence, so far as the +doctrine of God is concerned, philosophy can only strive after +formulas which express adequately the conception existing in every +mind which has brought the idea of God into reflective consciousness. +If this be true relatively to the common mind, it must be so much more +relatively to the instructed philosophic mind of the world, especially +the instructed theological mind of the church, where philosophy and +theology are developed in a scientific form. The individual may +reflect on that part of theology which his own intelligence has +appropriated and assimilated to itself, and may possibly advance +science by his reflections. But he cannot possibly cut himself off +from the intellectual tradition and the continuity of intellectual +life by which his reason lives and acts, without perpetrating +intellectual suicide. We despise and reject, therefore, all philosophy +or theology which severs itself from the great vital current and +pulsation of traditional wisdom and science. We despise also that +which merely repeats what it has learned, unless it has first made an +intelligent judgment that this is, in regard to whatever matter is +under discussion, the ultimatum that human reason can attain. One may +do some good by repeating and explaining to others what are, for him, +the last and most perfect words of wisdom which he has found in +studying the works of the great and wise teachers of men. This gives +him no claim to be honored as an original thinker or writer. He +diffuses but he does not advance science. It is better to do this than +to fall into error and folly, or at least to waste time and paper, by +vainly striving after originality for its own sake, or from a silly +motive of {293} vain-glory. Or one may really advance science by +original and valuable thoughts which are an elaboration of the truth +that has hitherto remained in a crude form; by a better analysis or +synthesis of common, universal conceptions; if nothing more, at least +by a better verbal expression and a more distinct and intelligible +method of exposition. For ourselves, we are satisfied to explain and +diffuse that wisdom which we have found in the writings of the +greatest and most profound thinkers, especially those who have created +or embellished Catholic theology. We strike out no new and unknown +path. We do not pretend even to push forward into any unexplored +region in the old one. All that is in this treatise may probably be +found elsewhere, and by many will be recognized as already familiar to +them. Although we do not choose to burden our pages with citations and +references, the reader may rely on it that in the main we follow the +common current of Catholic theology. If we sometimes deviate from it, +we are still, in most instances, following the steps of some one or +more of the giant pioneers who have gone on before, leaving a broad +trail to direct the weaker traveller in the path of science. + +What has just been said is applicable to every subject treated in +these essays. In relation to the special subject now under +consideration, we are very anxious not to seem captious or rash in +criticising the common methods of argument employed by theologians. We +recognize the substantial solidity of the doctrine of God contained in +the best philosophers of all ages, so far as it agrees with +revelation; and the perfect soundness and completeness of the doctrine +as taught by Christian theologians. It is only the form and method +that we intend to criticise, so far as theological doctrine is +concerned; and, so far as relates to the purely human and rational +element of philosophy, only that which is peculiar to individuals, +schools, or periods, and not that which is common and universal. Let +us remember that we are not reasoning as sceptics, and, beginning from +a principle of philosophic doubt, ignoring all knowledge and belief, +and striving to work our way upward to something positive and certain. +Whether we are positively Christian in our belief or not, we are +taking the viewing-point of Christian faith, and making a survey of +the prospect visible to the eye from that point. It presents to us the +completely developed idea of God as always known and always believed +with certitude. What we are to do, then, is to find the most adequate +expression of that which faith has believed and reason been able to +understand during all time respecting God. We stand not alone, in the +ignorance of our isolated, individual minds, to create by a slow and +laborious task the truth and the belief of which our souls feel the +need. We stand in union with the human race, always in possession of +at least the elements of truth. We stand in union with that favored +portion of the human race which has always clearly and distinctly +believed in the absolute truth of the being and infinite perfection of +God, and in a distinct revelation from him. We are about to examine +this universal belief, and these intelligent judgments of cultivated +universal human reason, and to compare them with the principles and +judgments of our own reason. To ascertain what Christian Catholic +faith is, and how it is radicated in an intelligent indubitable +certitude of reason--this is what we are about to attempt; and the +first part of our task is to examine the Christian conception of God, +as expressed in theistic philosophy and Catholic theology. We intend +to prove that it is the original, permits have, constitutive idea of +human reason, brought, into distinct, reflective consciousness; made +intelligible to the understanding, so far as it is not immediately +intelligible in itself, by analogy; and correctly expressed by the +sensible signs of language. + +{294} + + +IV. + +DIFFERENT METHODS OF PROVING THE BEING OF GOD. + +It is evident that we have no direct intellectual vision or beholding +of God. The goal is separated from him by an infinite and impassable +abyss. We cannot now take into account the person of Jesus Christ, or +of any who have been elevated to an intellectual condition different +from that which is proper to our present state on earth. Apart from +such exceptions, the soul even of the highest contemplative never +directly beholds God himself. In the words of St. Augustine; _"Videri +autem divinitas humano visu nullo modo potest; sed eo visu videtur, +quo jam qui vident, non homines sed ultra homines sunt."_ "The +divinity can in no way be seen by human vision: but it is seen by a +vision of such a kind that they who see by it are not men, but are +more than men." [Footnote 48] Neither have we the power to comprehend +the intrinsic necessity of God's being and the intimate reason and +nature of his self-existence. If we had a natural power of seeing God +immediately, we would be naturally beatified, and all error or sin +would be impossible. Moreover, we have not even a formed and developed +conception of God innate to our reason, such as that which the +instructed and educated reason can acquire. For, if we had, it would +be in all minds alike without exception; everywhere and under all +circumstances the same, without any need of previous reflection or +instruction. What, then, is the genesis of our rational conception and +belief of the divine being and attributes? How is it evident that God +really is? + + [Footnote 48: De Trin. lib. ii. c. ii.] + +The arguments employed by philosophers are usually divided into two +classes, those called _à priori_, and those called _à posteriori_. + +An argument _à priori_ is one which deduces a truth from another truth +of a prior and more universal order. Therefore, to prove the being of +God _à priori_ we must go back to a truth either really and in itself +antecedent to his being, or antecedent in the primitive idea of +reason. That is to say, there must be an ideal world of truth +logically antecedent to God, and independent of him; an eternal nature +of things which is in itself necessary, and intelligible to our +reason, before it has any idea of God. Or else, the primitive, +constitutive idea of our reason must be an idea of some abstract being +of this nature which is not God, and which in the real order is not +antecedent to God, but only antecedent to him in the order of human +thought and knowledge. If the first is true, God is not the first +cause, the first principle, the infinite and eternal truth in himself, +the absolute essence, and the immediate object of his own +intelligence. The very conception of God which is sought to be proved +is destroyed and rendered unintelligible. This will appear more +clearly when we come to develop more fully hereafter the idea of God +and his attributes. In the order of real being there is and can be +nothing before God. There is no cause, no principle, no truth, no +intelligible idea more universal than God, and prior to him, from +which his being can be deduced as a consequence. In this sense, then, +an _à priori_ argument for the being of God is impossible. + +If the second alternative is true, that we have a primitive idea of +something in our minds which is before the idea of God, the order of +ideas, of reason, of human thought, is not in harmony with the real +order. We apprehend the unreal and not the real. We see things as they +are not, and not as they are. The reason apprehends the abstract, +ideal universe, the eternal nature of things, the world of necessary +truth, as antecedent to God and independent of him, when it is not so. +If this were so, we could never attain to the true idea of God as +before all things and the principle of all. For reason most develop +{295} according to its primary and constitutive idea and its necessary +law of thought. If in this constitutive idea there is something before +God from which, as a prior principle, a more universal truth, the +being of God is deduced as a consequence and a secondary truth, we +must always look at things in this way, and can never directly behold +the real order of being as it is. Thus we can never attain the true +idea of God while we apprehend any intelligible object of thought as +prior to him who is really prior to all, and must be apprehended as +prior or else falsely apprehended. + +An _à priori_ argument in this sense is, therefore, as impossible as +in the other. + +Let us now examine more particularly some of the so-called _à priori_ +arguments. + +One is an argument from the conceptions, or, as they are commonly +called, the _ideas_, of space and time. It proceeds thus: We have an +idea of infinite space, and of infinite time, as necessary in the +eternal nature of things. Do what we will, we cannot banish these +ideas, or avoid thinking of space and time as necessary and eternal. +Therefore, there is an infinite, eternal being, of whose existence +space and time are the necessary effects. + +This argument dazzles the mind by a certain splendor and overwhelms it +by a certain profundity and vastness of conception, but yet leaves it +confused and overpowered rather than convinced. It will not bear +analysis, as Leibnitz has successfully proved in his letters to Adam +Clarke, who defended it with all the acuteness and ingenuity which his +subtle and penetrating intellect could bring to bear on the question. + +Nothing is, or can be, which is not either God or the creation of God. +Space and time, therefore, are either attributes of God, or created +entities, if they have any being or existence in themselves at all. +They are either identical with the essence of God, or they are +included within the creation and only coeval and co-extensive with it; +that is, bounded by finite and precise limits of succession and +extension. If the former, in perceiving them we perceive God directly. +This is not affirmed by the argument, which asserts that they are +effects of God's being and external to it. If the second, they are not +infinite; the idea of their infinity and necessity is an illusion, and +no argument can be derived from it. It is, beside, impossible to +conceive of space and time as entities, or existing things, distinct +and separate from other existences, and having certain defined limits. +The language used by those who distinguish them both from God and +creation, and call them necessary effects of the being of God, is +simply unintelligible. Their conception of infinite space and time is, +as Leibnitz calls it, a mere idol of the fancy, a phantasm +representing nothing real. There is no intelligible conception of +space and time as distinct both from God and creation. There is no +such thing in the order of reality or of thought as a _necessary_ +effect of God's being, or any effect except that produced by his free +creative act. Into the idea of God nothing enters except God himself. +Supposing that God exists alone without having created, when we think +of God we think of all that can be thought as actual. His being fills +up his own intelligence, of which it is the only and complete object. +Into a true conception of that being our notions of space and time +cannot enter. Nevertheless, in apprehending space and time there must +be some real and intelligible idea which is apprehended. This idea is +the possibility of creation, which in God is necessary and infinite. +By his very essence, God has the power to create, and this power is +unlimited. The idea of a created universe necessarily includes the +idea of its existence in space and time. The possibility of space and +time are, therefore, included in the possibility of creation, and as +no limits can be placed to {296} the one, so none can be placed to the +other. Our apprehension of infinite space and time is an apprehension +of the infinite possibility of creation in God. We apprehend God under +the intuition of the infinite, the necessary, and the eternal. This +intuition of the infinite enters into all our thoughts. And therefore, +however much we may extend our conception of actual duration or +extension in regard to the created universe, we must always think the +possibility of that duration and extension being increased even to +infinity. Ideal space and time is that which we apprehend of real +space and time, with the thought of their possible extension to +infinity included. Real space and time are not entities distinct in +themselves, but relations of succession and co-existence among created +things. As in God alone, as distinct from creation, there is nothing +intelligible but the divine being, so in the creation there is nothing +intelligible but that which God has created. God and the existences +which God has made are all that the mind can think. Take away God and +finite, real things; nothing remains. Think of God as not creating, +and God is the sole object of thought. Add to this the thought of God +creating, and you have finite created entities. But you have nothing +more; and if you fancy there is anything more, such as space and time +in the abstract, you have a phantasm or idol of the imagination, which +is nothing. Real space and time must be relations of existing things, +and ideal space and time the possibility of relations among things +which might be; or they are nothing. Destroy real entities, and you +destroy all real relations. Deny the possibility of real entities, and +you destroy all ideal relations. This answers the puzzling question +sometimes asked, "Can God annihilate space?" He can annihilate real +space by annihilating the real universe from which it is inseparable. +He cannot annihilate ideal space, because it is in himself, as +included in his eternal idea of the possible creation, or of his own +infinite power to create. Our apprehensions of space and time are in +the intelligible and not in the sensible world. The sensible form +which they have results from the universal law that all intelligible +conceptions come to us through the sensible, and represented to us +through sensible signs. They must ultimately terminate in the idea of +God as pure spirit, without extension or successive duration. When we +think of extension in space we imagine a material figure, or an +atmosphere whose circumference we extend further and further in all +directions. When we think of duration in time, we think of a +succession of material or intellectual actions, whose series we extend +backward into the past or forward into the future. But, no matter how +far we carry these processes, a definite and limited extension and +duration is all that we reach. It is impossible that the idea of +infinite space and duration should be actually realized in the order +of finite and created things. The impossibility of placing any limit +to them which shall be final must, therefore, be referred to an idea +beyond all relations of space and time, and truly infinite, which we +imperfectly apprehend by analogy through these relations. This is the +idea of God as having an infinite power to create which is +inexhaustible by any actual creation, however vast. Only in this way +is the idea intelligible, and we must affirm God as real and infinite +being before we can correctly apprehend it. + +It may be said that this is what is really meant by the argument from +space and time. We are willing to admit that it is what these eminent +writers really had in their minds. But it appears to us that they have +expressed it without sufficient clearness and precision, by reason of +the confusion which prevails in modern philosophy, and that it is not +really an _à priori_ argument, since it cannot be made {297} +intelligible without affirming the idea of God as prior to all other +ideas in the order of thought as well as in the order of being. + +Another argument is derived from the possibility of conceiving that +there is a being absolutely perfect. We can conceive that there is a +being possessing all possible perfections. But actual existence is a +perfection. Therefore if we conceive of a being possessing _all_ +perfection, we must conceive of him as having actual existence. + +This amounts merely to saying that actual existence enters into our +conception of God. Where is the proof that that conception is not +merely in our mind? Does the fact that we are able to form a +conception of God prove that God really exists? Some will answer. Yes. +Because it is absurd to suppose that the mind can form an idea greater +than itself, and conceive of a possible order of being greater than +the real order. It is, indeed, absurd; but the absurdity cannot be +shown without at the same time showing the impossibility of finding +any principle of reason prior to the idea of God. Is that which the +reason perceives real being? Then the idea of the infinite is the +affirmation of an infinite being. It is impossible to conceive of a +possible being greater than the real being, because the real being is +directly affirmed as infinite in the idea of reason. The very idea we +are seeking to prove real presents itself as real to the reason before +we can even begin the process of proving it. It is itself prior to +every principle we are looking for as the most ultimate and the most +universal. There cannot be found anything from which we can reason _à +priori_ to that which is itself prior to all. We have began by +affirming our conclusion as the basis of our proof. At the end of our +argument we come back to our starting-point. + +Is that which the reason perceives not real being? What, then, is it? +It will be said that it is an a idea. If so, this _à priori_ argument +proves only that the actual existence of God is conceivable, and that +it cannot be proved that there is no God. It may even make his real +existence appear to be probable, taken in connection with the other +arguments usually employed. At best, however, it leaves the idea of +God always under the form of an hypothesis, and affords no protection +against the corruption of the idea by pantheistic and materialistic +notions. Where is the passage from the abstract to the concrete, from +the mental conception to the objective reality? If our conceptions of +God lie in the order of an abstract world, and it is not the reality +which is the ultimate object of reason, how can we ever obtain +certitude that there is a real world corresponding to that abstract +world which exists in our own mind? Such is the reasoning of modern +materialism which is conducting vast numbers as near to absolute +atheism as the mind by its own nature is able to go. For the class of +men alluded to there are no realities except those of the sensible +world. The spiritual world of dogmatic truth, religious obligation, +and supernatural hopes, is ignored and neglected as merely abstract, +hypothetical, and having at best but a dubious claim on our attention; +one which may with safety and prudence be practically set aside for +the more obvious claims of the present life. The entire falsity of +this whole philosophy of the abstract, and the nullity of all +abstractions considered as self-subsisting objects of thought, will be +more directly shown hereafter. For the present we say no more on this +head, but proceed to consider another form in which the argument from +abstract, _à priori_ principles is presented. + +We have an idea of the good, the beautiful, the true, as being +necessary, universal, and eternal. Therefore there must be a being in +whose mind these ideas exist, or of whom these qualities can be +affirmed. This argument has been answered in answering {298} the +foregoing one, with which it nearly coincides. Are these ideas +abstract, independent of reality, antecedent to the idea of real, +concrete being? Then they are forms of the mind, and leave it without +a direct perception of the existence of a real, concrete being, +infinitely good, beautiful, and true; or rather, the infinite +goodness, beauty, and truth in himself. Are these ideas immediate +affirmations of this real being? Then we have lost again our _a +priori_ principle, by finding that the conclusion is actually prior to +it. Either we affirm the intuition of the concrete, real object, from +which the abstract conception of the good, the beautiful, and the true +is derived, or we can prove only the existence of these conceptions in +the mind, and cannot argue from the conceptions to the reality, or in +any way perceive clearly the existence of the reality in an order +external to our own mind. + +Let us pass now to the argument called _à posteriori_. This is a +method of reasoning exactly the reverse of the former; in which we +proceed from effects to their causes, and from particulars to the +universal. We endeavor to prove the existence of God from certain +facts which cannot be accounted for unless they are regarded as +effects of an absolute first cause. + +We may consider this argument from two distinct points of view. First, +we may take it as an effort to deduce the existence of God from a +great number of facts, as the result of our knowledge of these +particular facts; an effort to prove by experiment and observation an +hypothesis which is proposed as a probable solution of the problem of +the universe. We suppose that we begin without the idea of God. We +acquire the knowledge of particular facts through sensation and +reflection. By noting a great number of facts, and reflecting upon +them, we ascend to general and abstract truths, and as a last result +arrive at the conception of the being of God as the most universal +truth, and the one which is the sum of all probabilities. + +In the second place, we may take this argument as a method of +manifesting the way in which the action of the first cause is shown +forth in the universe. The idea of God is first affirmed, and the due +explication of the facts of the universe is then demonstrated to be +only an explication of the idea of God as first cause. The universe is +shown to be intelligible in its cause, and apart from it to be +unintelligible. Taken in this way the argument is identical with that +which we are about to propose a little later. + +Taken in the former sense, it is not a demonstration of the existence +of God. Suppose that we can begin to reason without the idea of cause, +and we can never establish its necessity by induction. Eliminate the +idea of self-subsisting, necessary, eternal being, and suppose it +unknown, unimagined; we can never rise above the particular, isolated +sensations and perceptions of which we are conscious. If the facts +which are called effects are intelligible in themselves, they imply no +cause, and none can be proved from them. If they are not intelligible +in themselves, they are from the first intelligible only in their +cause, and the idea of cause is ultimate in the mind, antecedent to +all knowledge of particulars, the first premised of every conclusion. +It cannot then be proved as the conclusion of any syllogism; for all +arguments start from it as the primitive idea and first principle of +reason. + +This method of argument belongs to that sceptical system of philosophy +which came in vogue with the theology of Protestantism, and has been +ever since working out its fatal results. It is the principle of +disintegration, doubt, and denial, transferred from the domain of +revealed dogma into the order of rational truths. Kant, the great +master of this philosophy, and one of the principal chiefs of modern +thought, carried out this philosophy to the denial of all possibility +of science, and therefore of all {299} Scientific knowledge of God, +immortality, and moral obligation. Having swept all natural and +revealed truths out of the domain of _pure_ reason, he made a feeble +attempt to establish their authority in the sphere of _practical_ +reason. The individual man and the human race need the belief in God +to keep them in the order required for their well-being. Therefore we +may believe that there is a God. It is needless to say that these +dictates of practical reason are not respected by those who carry out +consistently and boldly the sceptical philosophy. The ravages made by +the principle of scepticism among those who have cast off all +traditional belief in Christianity are obvious to all eyes. But it is +not so generally acknowledged that the same philosophy has had a wide +and baneful influence over Christian theology. Some Christian writers +would avowedly sweep away science to give place to faith, not +reflecting that faith tumbles to the ground when its rational basis is +removed. Others follow the method of a philosophy constructed upon +that method, a method which is altogether unfit to be a medium of the +rational explanation of Christian dogmas. Hence, there is a schism +between theology and philosophy, leaving both these sciences in a +mutilated condition. The manifest inadequacy of the common +philosophical system brings it into contempt, and induces the effort +to transfer the seat of all certitude and all true science to +theology. Theology cannot make the first step without a basis of +rational certitude for faith and for conclusions drawn from premises +which are furnished by faith. Consequently her efforts to walk on air +result to her discredit, and theology falls into contempt. This ends +in adopting Kant's practical reason as the basis of religious belief. +Philosophy and theology, as sciences of the highest order, are +deserted. Religion is defended and explained on the ground of its +probability and its utility. We cannot have science or make our belief +intelligible. It is safe and prudent to follow on in the way the great +majority of the wise and good have walked. Let us do so, and silence +the questionings of the intellect. [Footnote 49] The language of +scepticism! This is the mental disease of our day. Scepticism in +regard to the doctrines of revelation; scepticism in regard to the +dictates of reason! No doubt, if faith had full sway, and no false +philosophy prevailed, theology would be sufficient by itself. For it +contains in solution the true philosophy; and the simple, +unsophisticated Christian intellect will take it up and absorb it +naturally without needing to have it administered in a separate state. +But where the mind has been sophisticated by false philosophy, it +cannot take theology until the antidote of true philosophy has been +given to it. Here is a lack in our English-speaking religious world. +And this lack is, perhaps, the reason why some of the best writers +speak so uncertainly of the rational basis of faith in revealed +truths, and even in the truth of God's existence. While they affirm +the certitude of their own inward belief, yet they acknowledge that +they can only construct an argument which in philosophy is probable. +That is to say, they have not a philosophy in which the ground of +their inward certitude is expressed in a distinct formula, and by +which they can make their readers conscious of a similar ground of +certitude in themselves. They have no philosophy corresponding to +their theology, and therefore, when they address the unbelieving or +doubting world, they are at a loss for a bridge to span the chasm +lying between it and themselves. + + [Footnote 49: These remarks are not levelled against any approved + system of Catholic philosophy, but only against those which are in + vogue in the non-Catholic world, or among certain Catholic writers + of a modern date.] + +There is at present a laudable and {300} encouraging desire manifested +by the leading thinkers and writers of different churches to bring out +the great fundamental truth that God is the author of nature and +revelation, in such a way as to stem the tide of scepticism. Guizot, +who is among the most eminent, if not the very first, of the modern +advocates of orthodox Protestantism, in the programme of a recent work +in defence of revealed religion which he has published, expresses the +opinion that the differences between his own co-religionists and +Catholics are of minor importance compared to the great pending +controversy with modern scepticism. This, with many other indications +of a growing cordiality in earnest Protestants toward Catholics who +are similarly earnest, makes us hope to receive from them as well as +from the members of our own communion a respectful and candid hearing +of what we have to say on this weighty subject. + +And now, having done with the disagreeable task of criticism, we +entreat of our readers, if they have found the preliminary treatment +of the subject we are on abstruse and wearisome, to resume their +courage and push on a little further up the ascent toward the summit +of truth. The traveller, who struggles through thickets and over rocks +toward the top of a mountain is well rewarded by the landscape which +lies below and around him, lighted up by the radiance of the full orb +of day. So, gentle reader, whether you are believer or sceptic, there +is an eminence before us which we can attain, from which the fair +landscape of natural and supernatural truth is visible as far as the +outermost boundaries which fade away into the infinite. We wish to +lead you to this eminence, and to show you this landscape lighted up +with the radiance of the primal source of light, _the idea of God_, +the self-luminous centre of the universe of thought. We wish to show +you this idea of God in its absolute truth and certitude; clearly and +distinctly visible in that horizon which is within the scope of the +naked eye of reason, but whose boundaries are enlarged and its objects +magnified by the aid of that gigantic telescope called faith. + +{301} + +From Once a Week + +A MONTH IN KILKENNY. + +BY W. P. LENNOX. + + +There is little to attract the attention of the traveller between +Dublin and Kilkenny, except the fine range of mountains and the +Curragh of Kildare. The Newmarket of Ireland is a vast, unbroken, +bleak plain, consisting of 4,858 statute acres. It belongs to the +crown, and is appropriate to racing and coursing, the adjacent +proprietors having the privilege of grazing sheep thereon. The ranger +of the Curragh is appointed by the government, and has the entire +charge of this celebrated property. Of the race-meetings that take +place on this spot it is needless to speak, as they are recorded in +the newspapers of the day. Suffice it to say that the arrangements are +well carried out, the prizes considerable, the number of horses that +contend for them great, and the sport first-rate. + +After changing trains at Kilkenny, I reached Parsonstown, where a +carriage awaited me, to convey me to Woodstock, the hospitable seat of +my brother-in-law, the Right Hon. William Tighe, and my sister, Lady +Louisa Tighe. + +Inistioge, anciently called Inis-teoc, is a charmingly situated small +town overlooking the Nore, which is crossed by a picturesque bridge of +ten arches, ornamented on one side with Ionic pilasters. The town is +built in the form of a square, which being planted with lime-trees +gives it the appearance of a foreign town. In the centre of the square +is a small plain pillar, based on a pedestal of stone. This was the +shaft of an ancient stone cross, and bears an inscription to the +memory of David, Baron of Brownsfield, one of the Fitzgerald family, +who died in 1621. The emerald green turf, and the foliage of the +trees, in the square, give it a fresh appearance, and form an +agreeable contrast to the surrounding stone buildings. Inistioge was +once a royal borough, and famed for its religious establishments. It +also possessed a large Augustinian monastery. All that now remains of +it consists of two towers: one of them is incorporated with the parish +church; the other is square at the base and octagonal in the upper +stages. Of Woodstock itself, I will merely say that the house contains +a valuable library, some good paintings; the gardens can find no equal +in the United Kingdom; and the grounds, laid out with every diversity +that wood and water can bestow, are perfectly beautiful. At the back +rises a wooded hill, to the height of 900 feet, the summit crowned +with an ornamental tower; and as the demesne stretches for a +considerable distance along the Nore, there are some magnificent views +of + + "The stubborne Nenvre, whose waters grey, + By fall Kilkenny and Rosseponte bend;" + +which may be described in the words of the poet of the Thames-- + + "Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull: + Strong without rage; without o'erflowing fail." + +One of our first excursions was to Kilkenny, on our way to which city +we stopped at Bennet's Bridge, to {302} witness the humors of a +horse-fair. This small town is famed as having been the place where +the Duke of Ormonde held a review in 1704, and which attracted such +hosts of visitors that an inn-keeper is said to have made as much by +his beds as paid his rent for seven years. I have attended many fairs +in England, Scotland, Wales, France, Holland, Germany, and Canada, but +never did I witness such an extraordinary sight as the one that +presented itself at Bennet's Bridge. The hamlet itself, and its +outskirts, were filled for more than a mile with horses, ponies, and +vehicles, attended by a mass of people consisting of dealers, farmers, +peasants, tramps, and beggars. There might be seen some "artful +dodger" trying to palm off to one less experienced than himself a +spicy-looking thorough-bred nag, whose legs showed evident marks of +many a hard gallop, declaring that for speed the animal was +unequalled, and that there was not a stone wall in the whole county +that could stop him; there might be noticed a gallant colonel of +hussars, attended by his "vet," selecting some clever three-year-olds, +with which to recruit the ranks of her majesty's service. "Bedad, +gineral," exclaims the vendor, "with such a regiment of horses you'd +ride over the whole French cavalry, with Napoleon at the head of it." +"A broth of a boy" may now be pointed out, charging a stone wall, with +a raw-boned brute that never attempts to rise at it, and who, turning +the animal round, and backing him strongly, makes an aperture, at the +same moment singing a snatch of an Irish song, most appropriate for +the occasion--"Brave Oliver Cromwell, he did them so pommel, that he +made a breach in her battlements." Next, a ragged urchin, without +shoes and stockings, with what might be termed "the original shocking +bad hat" and which--on the principle of exchange no robbery--I was +credibly informed he had taken from a field, set up to scare away the +crows. Then there was the usual number of idlers and lookers-on, and +an unusual amount of hallooing, shouting, screaming, and bellowing. + +After devoting an hour to the humors of the fair, we proceeded to view +the remains of the abbey of Jerpoint, which was founded in 1180, by +Donogh, King of Ossory, for Cistercian monks. The monks, on the +arrival of the English, had interest sufficient with King John to get +a confirmation of all the lands bestowed on them by the King of +Ossory; and Edward III., in the thirty-fourth year of his reign, at +the instance of Phillip, then abbot, granted him a confirmation of +former charters. Oliver Grace, the last abbot, surrendered this abbey +on the 18th of March, the 31 Henry VIII. It then possessed about 1,500 +acres of arable and pasture land, three rectories, the altarages and +tithes of thirteen other parishes; all these were granted in the reign +of Philip and Mary to James, Earl of Ormonde, and his heirs male, to +hold _in capite_, at the yearly rent of £49 3s. 9d. It is an +interesting ruin, and well worthy the attention of the antiquarian. +From Jerpoint we proceeded to Kilkenny Castle, the home of the +Ormondes. + +Richard Strongbow, by his marriage with Eva, daughter of Dermot, King +of Leinster, came into possession of a great part of the province of +Leinster. Henry II. confirmed his right, with the reservation of the +maritime ports. On being appointed Lord Justice of Ireland in 1173, he +laid the foundation of a castle in Kilkenny, but it was scarcely +finished when it was demolished by the insurgent Irish. However, +William, Earl Marshal, descended from Strongbow, and also Lord +Justice, in 1195 began a noble pile on a more extensive scale, and on +the ancient site. A great part of this fine castle has survived the +convulsions of this distracted kingdom, and continues at this day a +conspicuous ornament of {303} the city of Kilkenny. A rising ground +was chosen, which on one side has a steep and abrupt descent to the +river Nore, which effectually protects it on that quarter by its rapid +stream; the other sides were secured by ramparts, walls, and towers, +and the entrance is through a lofty gate of marble of the Corinthian +order. Hugh Le DeSpenser, who obtained the castle by marriage, in +September, 1391, conveyed it and its dependencies to James, Earl of +Ormonde. In later days, the castle has been much improved; the +tapestry which adorns the walls of the entrance-hall and staircase +exhibits the history of Decius; it is admirably executed, and the +colors are fresh and lively. The ballroom, which is of great length, +contains a fine collection of portraits, landscapes, and +battle-pieces. + +From the castle we visited the cathedral church of St. Canice, which +is the largest church in Ireland, with the exception of St. Patrick's +and Christ church, Dublin. There are a centre and two lateral aisles. +The roof of the nave is supported by five pillars, and a pilaster of +black marble on each side, upon which are formed five arches. Each +lateral aisle is lighted by four windows below, and the central aisle +by five above; they are in the shape of quatrefoils. The origin of +this beautiful structure is uncertain, but it is conjectured that it +was begun in 1180, when a small church was erected near the round +tower. + +"Hugh Rufus laid the foundation of a noble edifice," say the old +writers, "and Bishop Mapilton, in 1233, and St. Leger, who succeeded +him, completed the fabric." In describing the church of St. Canice, I +cannot refrain from alluding to the extreme politeness of Father +Kavanagh, a Roman Catholic priest, who devoted his time to my party +and myself in pointing out the beauties of this venerable pile. + +The Black Abbey was founded by William, Earl Marshal, about 1225, for +Dominican friars. The founder was interred here in 1231, and three +years after his brother Richard, who was slain in a battle with the +O'Mores and O'Conors on the Curragh of Kildare. Henry VIII. granted +this monastery to the burgesses and commonalty of the city of +Kilkenny. In the time of the elder James it served for a shire-house, +and in 1643 it was repaired, and a chapter of the order held in it. +Its towers are light and elegant, and some of the windows are most +artistically executed. + +St. Mary's church contains some very interesting monuments, among them +one in memory of Sir Richard Shee, dated 1608, with its ten sculptured +figures at the base. There is one also to his brother, Elias Shee, of +whom Holinshed wrote that he was "a pleasant-conceited companion, full +of mirth without gall." On an unpretending tablet of black and white +marble appears the following inscription: + + "FREDERICK GEORGE HOWARD, + SECOND SON OF THE EARL OF CARLISLE + CAPTAIN OF THE 90TH REGIMENT + DIED A.D. 1833, AET. 28. + + "Within this hallowed aisle, mid grief sincere, + Friends, comrades, brothers late young Howard's bier; + Gentle and brave, his country's arms he bore + To Ganges' stream and Ava's hostile shore: + His God through war and shipwreck was his shield, + But stretched him lifeless on the peaceful field. + Thine are the times and ways, all-ruling Lord! + Thy will be done, acknowledged, and adored!" + +The above lines are from the pen of the late Earl of Carlisle, who +never went near Kilkenny without paying a visit to the tomb of his +brother. Poor Howard was killed by leaping out of a curricle, which +was run away with between the barracks at Kilkenny and Newtownbarry, +where his regiment was quartered. Another monument attracted my +attention; it bore an inscription to the memory of Major-General Sir +Denis Pack, recording the military career of this distinguished +soldier. I knew the deceased officer well during the Belgian {304} +campaign, and a thousand recollections sprang up in my mind when I saw +the bust, by Chantrey, of as brave a man as ever served in the British +army. But to return. + +Although the salmon fishing in Ireland has in many rivers sadly +degenerated within a few years, there is still excellent sport to be +had in many of the rivers and lakes. The Nore, which flows through the +county of Kilkenny, would be a first-rate river for salmon and trout +were it not for the number of weirs and the illegal destruction of the +fish by cross-lines and nets. At Mount Juliet, the romantic seat of +Lord Carrick, and Narlands, the river is partially preserved; and +here, as at Dunmore, the property of Lord Ormonde, the angling is +excellent. The general run of salmon flies suits the Nore; they should +be tied with dobbing of pig's wool, and a good deal of peacock in the +wing. For trout, the ordinary run of flies will be found to answer +well. + +Among other fishing localities in Ireland may be mentioned Lough Ree, +a fine sheet of water about twenty miles in extent, studded with +numerous islands, around the shores of which, and on the shoals, trout +abound. The lake of Allua, about ten miles above Macroom, in the +county of Cork, was once famous for trout and salmon, which have of +late years diminished considerably, in consequence of the introduction +of pike, the tyrant of the waters. The lakes of Carvagh, in Kerry, of +Inchiquin, of Currana (near Derrynane), Lough Kittane (four miles from +Killarney), Lough Brin (in Kerry), Lough Atedaun, Lough Gill (in +Sligo), and Lough Erne, are well supplied with trout and salmon; while +the far-famed lakes of Killarney will furnish sport to those who seek +pastime, in addition to the enjoyment of witnessing the most beautiful +and romantic scenery that is to be found in the Emerald Isle. The +rivers, too, abound in fish. Among the best are the Liffey, Laune, +Tolka, Bann, Blackwater (in Cork), Suir, Annar, Nire (a mountain +stream rising in the Waterford mountains), Shannon, Lee, and Killaloe +(remarkable for its eels, as also for the gastronomic skill of the +inhabitants in dressing them). + +I must now turn from the "gentle crafte" to otter-hunting, a sport +still carried on with spirit in Ould Ireland. The mephitic nature of +the otter renders him an easy prey to his pursuers, and his scent is +so strong that a good hound will at once challenge it. The lodging of +this subtle plunderer is called his _kennel_, or _couch_, and his +occasional lodgments and passages to and fro are called his _halts_. +So clever is he as an architect that he constructs his _couches_ at +different heights, so that, let the water rise or fall, he has a dry +tenement. Spring is the best season for otter-hunting, but it is +carried on during the summer in the Emerald Isle; and a day with the +amphibious tyrant of the finny tribe in the river Nore, which I +enjoyed last September, may not be uninteresting. + +At about eleven o'clock on a bright sunny day, with a refreshing +breeze blowing on us from the south-east, we met at Coolmore, the seat +of Mr. P. Connellan. The harriers--belonging to my host, and +consisting of about six couple of handsome, well-sized hounds, about +seventeen inches high--met in a field close to the house, attended by +a whipper-in, admirably mounted. The pack seemed to possess all the +qualifications of good harriers--fine heads, ear-flaps thin, nostrils +open, chests deep, embraced by shoulders broad but light, and wen +thrown back; the fore-legs straight, clean, bony, terminated by round, +ball-like feet, the hind-legs being angular, and the thighs powerful. +The beauty of the day had attracted a large party of both sexes from +the neighborhood, some of whom, and one young lady in particular, +managed a cot so ably, that she drew forth the following complement +{305} from one of the bold peasantry: "Bedad, miss, you'd do honor to +Cleopatra's galley." The principal part of the sportsmen and +sports-women were on foot, although a few were mounted, and among the +fair equestrians was a young lady whose seat and hand were perfect, +and who evidently wished to emulate the prowess of the Thracian +huntress. This modern Harpalyce, combining courage with feminine +deportment, was prepared to fly like the wind across the country, had +an occasion presented itself by the accidental discovery of a fleet +hare. Arrived at the river's side, two Saxons with loaded guns kept a +good lookout for the lurking prey, while the hounds swam across to a +small island, where an otter had been tracked by his _seal_ Shortly a +hound was heard to challenge, but on the approach of the pack the +"goose-footed prowler," having been hunted before, left his couch, and +diving under the water made head up the stream. Now every eye on shore +is intent on watching his _ventings_; his muzzle appears above the +surface for a second; again it disappears; and he can be tracked alone +by the bubbles of air he throws out. The sport is now exciting. One of +the police, armed with a primitive spear, which he had taken from a +river poacher, consisting of a three-pronged fork fixed into the end +of a long pole, is ready to hurl the weapon which has proved so fatal +to many a salmon, should the otter appear in view, while the staunch +hounds are close on the scent. "Have a care there," cries a keen +sportsman to the preserver of the peace. "Don't strike too quickly, or +bedad you may transfix a hound instead of the marauding animal." But +he is not doomed to die so inglorious a death as that caused by a +rusty fork, for before the crude spear is hurled the hounds have +seized him, and, after a desperate struggle, in which many of the +gallant pack were bitten, shake the life out of the captured prey. +While enjoying the sport of the morning, my attention was attracted to +a young lady on the opposite bank of the river, who, wising to join +our party, entered a small cot, and gallantly paddled herself across +the fast-flowing stream. So admirably did this "guardian Naiad of the +strand" guide her fragile bark, that I could not fail to congratulate +her upon her prowess. My compliments, however, fell very short of one +uttered by a ragged boatman, who exclaimed: + +"Ay, and sure, miss, you must be one of the queen's company. Bedad, +miss, you are worthy of taking a cot into the Meditherranean." + +While upon the clever sayings of the Irish, I must give an anecdote +which was told me by Sir John Power, of Kilfane, than whom a finer +sportsman or more hospitable man never existed. It seems that the +complaints made against the vulpine race by owners of poultry are not +confined to England, and upon one occasion a genuine Irishman, "Pat +Driscoll by name," claimed compensation for damage done to a turkey +and duck. This was awarded to him, when a week afterward he waited +upon the owner of Kilfane, and asked him for compensation for "a +beautiful cow killed by that nasty varmen, a fox." "A fox kill a cow!" +said Sir John; "impossible!" "Fait and sure he did," continued Pat. +"I'll tell you how it was. My cow was feeding in the meadow close to +my garden, and was eating a turnip, when up jumped a baste of a fox, +and frightened her so much that bedad the poor creature choked +herself." The good-humored baronet could not fail to be amused at +Driscoll's ready wit, but declined paying for the loss of the animal, +upon which Pat, not at all taken aback, remarked, "Well, Sir John, +it's rather hard upon me; but in future, instead of advertising your +meets at Kilfane or Thomastown, perhaps you will name _Kilmacoy_" +(pronounced "Kilmycow") "as more appropriate to case." + +{306} + +Chapters could be filled with Irish sayings, but space prevents my +giving more than one, which was told to me by a friend in whose +veracity I have perfect confidence. An English gentleman dining in the +house of an Irish lady, was greatly surprised at hearing the Butler +ask, "please, ma'am, will I strip?" "Yes", was the reply; "all the +company arrived." Turning to a neighbor, he inquired the meaning of +the expression, when he found it applied to taking the covers off the +dishes, and was quite foreign to the usual acceptation of the word +"strip." + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +BANNED AND BLESSED. + + "And the Lord God formed man of the slime of the earth; . . . . + Cursed is the earth in thy work. + + "And the word was made flesh and dwelt among us." + + + Bud out, glad earth, in beauty, + Ring out, glad earth, in song; + The funeral pall is lifted + That covered thee so long: + The heavy curse laid on thee + For Eden's primal wrong. + + Long ages gone, the angels + Hailed thee with pure delight. + The blooming of thy day-time. + The radiance of thy night; + And e'en thy Maker named thee + As pleasant in his sight-- + + Soon lost that early joyance, + Brief worn that birth-day crown! + The very stars of heaven + Look sorrowfully down + On fairest flowers withered + Beneath man's sinful frown. + + Blinded, and banned, and broken, + Along thy penance-path. + Thy vesture streamèd over + With the torrents of man's wrath; + Thou treadest through the ether + A thing of shame and scath. + {307} + Lift up thy head, poor mourner, + Shake the ashes from thy brow; + Lay off thine age-worn sackcloth + And wear the purple now: + Amid the starry brethren, + Who honor hath, as thou? + + The dust from off thy bosom + The Maker deigns to wear; + "The word made flesh," in heaven, + Hath given thee such share + No grandeur of thy brethren + With it can hold compare. + + Blest art thou that his footsteps + Along thy pathways trod; + Blest art thou that his pillow + Has been thy grassy sod; + And blest the burial shelter + Thou gavest to thy God. + + And for that little service, + Divine the meed shall be: + When "fervent heat" hath melted + The starry choirs and thee, + The moulded dust of Eden + Shall live eternally. + + "The first-born of all creatures" + Doth wear it on his throne, + The vesture of humanity + By which he claims his own. + How infinite the pardon + That doth thy penance crown! + + GENEVIEVÉ SALES. + March 22, 1806 + +------ + +{308} + +Translated from French. + +L'ABBÉ GERBET. [Footnote 50] + +BY C. A. SAINTE-BEUVE. + + [Footnote 50: "Considérations sur le Dogme Générateur de la Piété + Cathiolique." 4e édition, chez Vaton. 1859] + + +For a long time I have been reserving this subject for some feast-day, +for Corpus Christi or some festival of Mary, feeling that holiness +belongs to it; unction, grace mingled with science, and a reverential +smile. "But why," some of our readers will say,--"why does l'Abbé +Gerbet's name imply all this?" I shall try to show them the reason and +give some idea of one of the most learned, distinguished, and truly +amiable men that the church of France possesses, as well as one of our +best writers; and, without embarking on vexed or doubtful questions, +to delineate for them in soft tints the personality of the man and his +talent. + +But in the first place, that I may connect with its true date this +modest name, which has rather courted oblivion than notoriety, let me +remind my readers that during the Restoration, about the year 1820, +when that regime, at first so unsettled, was beginning to enter into +complete possession of its powers, a movement arose on all sides among +the youthful spirits, ardently impelling them to literary culture and +philosophical ideas. In poetry Lamartine had given the signal of +revival, others gave it in history, others again in philosophy; and +among the young people there sprang up a universal spirit of +emulation, a unanimous determination to begin anew. It seemed as if, +like a fertile land, the French mind, after its compulsory rest of so +many years, were eagerly demanding every kind of cultivation. Yes, in +religion then, in theology, it was the same; a generation had sprung +up full of zeal and animation, who tried, not to renew what is in its +nature immutable, but to rejuvenate the forms of teaching and +demonstration, adapt them to the mental condition of the times, and +make the principle of Catholicity respected even by its opponents. +For, in the words of one of these young Levites in the beginning of +the movement, "to act upon the age, we must understand it." + +I could cite the names of several men who, with shades of difference +known in the ecclesiastical world, had this in common, that they stood +at the head of the studious and intelligent young clergy: M. Gousset, +now cardinal archbishop of Rheims, and standing in the first rank of +theologians; Mgr. Affré, who met his death so gloriously as archbishop +of Paris; M. Douey, the present bishop of Montauban; and M. de +Salinis, bishop of Amiens. But at that time, between the years 1820 +and 1822, one name alone among the clergy offered itself to men of the +world as a candidate for widespread fame. M. de Lamennais in his first +Catholic fame had enforced the attention of all by his "Essay on +Indifference," stirring a thousand thoughts even in the minds of the +astonished clergy. + +And here for the first time we meet l'Abbé Gerbet. He was born in 1798 +{309} at Poligny, in the Jura. After completing his first studies in +his native town, he passed through a course of philosophy in the +academy of Besançon; and in obedience to an instinctive vocation, +which awoke within him at the age of ten years, began his theological +studies in the same city. During the dangers of invasion, in +1814-1815, he went into the mountains to visit a curate, a relation or +friend of his family, and remained there to study. Thither came one +day a young student of the Normal School, Jouffroy, two years his +senior, who in going home to pass his vacation in the village of +Pontets, had paused a moment on the way. Jouffroy, though in the first +flush of youth and learning, and wearing the aureole upon his brow, +did not disdain to enter into discussion with the young provincial +seminarian. He combated the proofs of revelation, and especially +contested the age of the world, relying upon the testimony of the +famous Zodiac of Denderah, so often invoked in those days, and so soon +destroyed. The young seminarian, in the presence of this unknown +monument, could only answer: "Wait." These two young men never met +again, compatriots though they were, and from that day forth +adversaries; but l'Abbé Gerbet and Jouffroy, while carrying on a war, +pen in hand, never failed to do so in the most dignified terms of +controversy, and Jouffroy, whose heart was so good despite his +dogmatic language, always spoke of l'Abbé Gerbet, if I remember +rightly, with feelings of affectionate esteem. + +On arriving in Paris at the close of the year 1818, l'Abbé Gerbet +entered the seminary of Saint-Sulpice, but his health, which was +already delicate, not allowing him to stay there long, he established +himself as a boarder in the House of Foreign Missions, where he +followed the rules of the seminarians. He was ordained priest in 1822 +at the same time with l'Abbé do Salinis, whose inseparable friend he +has always remained. + +A little later he was appointed assistant professor of the Holy +Scriptures in the Theological Faculty of Paris, and went to live in +the Sorbonne. Having no lectures to deliver, he soon began to assist +M. de Salinis, who had been made almoner in the college of Henry lV., +and it was at this time that he first knew M. de Lamennais. + +At twenty-four years of age, l'Abbé Gerbet had given evidence of +remarkable philosophical and literary talent, and had sustained a +Latin thesis with rare elegance in the Sorbonne. By nature he was +endowed with all the gifts of oratory, a sense of rhythmic movement, +measure, and choice of expression, and a graphic power which, in one +word, must become a talent for writing. To these endowments he added +an acute and elevated faculty for dialectics, fertile in distinctions, +which he sometimes took delight in multiplying, but without ever +losing himself among them. In the very beginning of his friendship +with M. de Lamennais, he felt, without perhaps acknowledging it to +himself, that that bold and vigorous genius, who was wont to open new +views and perspectives, as it were by main force, needed the +assistance of an auxiliary pen, more tempered, gentler and firm,--a +talent that could use evidence judiciously, fill up spaces, cover weak +points, and smooth away a look of menace and revolution from what was +simply intended as a broader expression and more accessible +development of Christianity. L'Abbé Gerbet clothed M. de Lamennais' +system as far as possible with the character of persuasion and +conciliation that belonged to it: to soften and graduate its +tendencies was properly the part he filled at this time of his youth. + +Upon this system I shall touch in a few words that will suffice to +explain what I have to say of l'Abbé Gerbet's moral and literary +gifts. Instead of seeking the evidences of Christianity in such and +such texts of Scripture, or in a personal argument {310} addressed to +individual reason, M. de Lamennais maintained that it should, in the +first place, be sought in the universal tradition and historical +testimony of peoples, for he believed that even before the coming of +Jesus Christ and the establishment of Christianity a sort of testimony +was to be traced, confused certainly, but real and concordant, running +through the traditions of ancient races and discernible even in the +presentiments of ancient sages. It seemed to him demonstrable that +among all nations there had been ideas, more or less defined, of the +creation of man, of the fall and promised reparation, of the expiation +or expected redemption--in short, of all that should one day +constitute the treasures of Christian doctrine, and was then only the +scattered and persistent vestige of the primitive revelation. From +this he argued that the lights of ancient sages might be considered as +the dawn of faith, and that without, of course, being classed among +the fathers of the primitive church, Confucius, Zoroaster, Pythagoras, +Heraclitus, Socrates, and Plato should be considered up to a certain +point as preparers for the gospel, and not be numbered among the +accursed. They might almost be called, in the language of the ancient +fathers, primitive Christians--at least they were like so many Magi +travelling more or less directly toward the divine cradle. By this +single view of an anterior Christianity disseminated through the +world, by this voyage, as it were, in search of Catholic truths +floating about the universe, the teaching of theology would have been +wonderfully widened and enlarged, for it necessarily comprised the +history of philosophical ideas. M. de Lamennais' system, which is +especially attractive when developed historically by the pen of l'Abbé +Gerbet, has not since then been recognized by the church. It appeared +to be at least delusive, if not false; but perhaps, even from the +point of view of orthodoxy, it can only merit the reproach of having +claimed to be the sole method, to the exclusion of all others; +combined with other proofs, and presented simply, as a powerful +accessory consideration, I believe that it has never been rejected. + +It may be understood, however, even without entering into the heart of +the matter, that in 1824, when l'Abbé Gerbet, in concert with M. de +Salinis, established a religious monthly magazine, entitled the +"Catholic Memorial," and began to develop his ideas therein with +modesty and moderation, but also with that fresh confidence and ardor +that youth bestows, there was, to speak merely of the external form of +the questions, a something about it that gave the signal for the +struggle of a new spirit against the stationary or backward spirit. +The old-fashioned theologians, whether formalist or rationalistic, who +found themselves attacked, resisted and took scandal at the name of +traditions which were not only Catholic but scholastic and classic. +But in l'Abbé Gerbet they had to deal with a man thoroughly well read +in the writings of the fathers, and possessed of their true +significance. He could bring forward, in his turn, texts drawn from +the fountain-head in support of this freer and more generous method; +among other quotations, he liked to cite this fine passage from +Vincent de Lérius: "Let posterity, thanks to your enlightenment, +rejoice in the _conception_ of that to which antiquity gave respectful +credence without understanding [its full meaning]; but remember to +teach the same things that have been transmitted to you, so that, +while presenting them in a new light, you do not invent new +doctrines." Thus, while maintaining fundamental immutability, he took +pleasure in remarking that, in spite of slight deviations, the order +of scientific explanation has followed a law of progress in the +church, and has been successively developed; a fact which he {311} +demonstrated by the history of Christianity. + +"The Catholic Memorial," in its very infancy, stirred the emulation of +youthful writers in the philosophical camp. It was at first printed at +Lachevardière's, where M. Pierre Leroux was proof-reader, and the +latter, on seeing the success of a magazine devoted to grave subjects, +concluded that a similar organ for the promotion of opinions shared by +himself and his friends might be established with even better results. +In that same year, 1824, "The Globe" began its career, and the two +periodicals often engaged in polemic discussions, like adversaries who +knew and respected each other while they clearly understood the point +of controversy. For the benefit of the curious, I note an article of +M. Gerbet's [Footnote 51] (signed X.) which represents many others, +and is entitled "Concerning the Present State of Doctrines;"--the +objections are especially addressed to MM. Damiron and Jouffroy. It +was the heyday then of this war of ideas. + + [Footnote 51: 1825. Vol. 4th, p. 188. ] + +L'Abbé Gerbet's life has been quite simple and uniform, marked by only +one considerable episode--his connection with l'Abbé de Lamennais, to +whom he lent or rather gave himself for years with an affectionate +devotion which had no term or limit except in the final revolt of that +proud and immoderate spirit. After fulfilling all the duties of a +religious friendship, after having waited and forborne and hoped, +Gerbet withdrew in silence. For a long time he had been all that +Nicole was to Arnauld--a moderator, softening asperities and averting +shocks as far as possible. He never grew weary until there was no +longer room for further effort, and then he returned completely to +himself. These ultra and exclusive methods are unsuited to his nature, +and he hastened to withdraw from them, and to forget what he would +never have allowed to break out and reach such a pass if he had been +acting alone. It needs but a word, but a breath, from the Vatican to +dissipate all that seems cloudy or obscure in l'Abbé Gerbet's +doctrines. His gentle clouds inclose no storm, and, in dispersing, +they reveal a depth of serene sky, lightly veiled here and there, but +pure and delicious. + +I express the feeling that some of his writings leave upon the mind, +and especially the work that has just been reprinted, of which I will +say a few words. "Les Considérations sur le Dogme générateur de la +Piété Catholique," that is to say, Thoughts upon Communion and the +Eucharist, first appeared in 1829. It is, properly speaking, "neither +a dogmatic treatise nor a book of devotion, but something +intermediate." The author begins by an historical research into +general ideas, universally diffused throughout antiquity--ideas of +sacrifice and offering, as well as of the desire and necessity of +communication with an ever-present God, which have served as a +preparation and approach toward the mystery; but, mingled with +historical digressions and delicate or profound doctrinal +distinctions, we meet at every step sweet and beautiful words which +come from the soul and are the effusion of a loving faith. I will +quote a few, almost at hazard, without seeking their connection, for +they give us an insight into the soul of l'Abbé Gerbet. As, for +instance, concerning prayer: + + "Prayer, in its fundamental essence, is but the sincere recognition + of this continual need (of drawing new strength from the source of + life) and an humble desire of constant assistance; it is the + confession of an indigence full of hope." + + "Wherever God places intelligences capable of serving him, there we + find weakness, and there too hope." + +And again: + + "Christianity in its fulness is only a bountiful alms bestowed on + abject poverty." + +{312} + + "Is there not something divine in every benefit?" + + "Charity enters not into the heart of man without combat; for it + meets an eternal adversary there--pride, the first-born of + selfishness, and the father of hatred." + + "The gospel has made, in the full force of the term, a revolution in + the human soul, by changing the relative position of the two + feelings that divide its sway: fear has yielded the empire of the + heart to love." + +L'Abbé Gerbet's book is full of golden words; but when we seek to +detach and isolate them, we see how closely they are woven into the +tissue. + +The aim of the author is to prove that, from a Christian and Catholic +point of view, communion, accepted in its fulness with entire faith, +frequent communion reverently received, is the most certain, +efficacious, and vivid means of charity. In speaking of the excellent +book entitled "The Following of Christ," he says: + + "The asceticism of the middle ages has left an inimitable monument, + which Catholics, Protestants, and philosophers are agreed in + admiring with the most beautiful admiration, that of the heart. It + is wonderful, this little book of mysticism, upon which the genius + of Leibnitz used to ponder, and which roused something like + enthusiasm even in the frigid Fontenelle. No one ever read a page of + the 'Following of Christ,' especially in time of trouble, without + saying as he laid the book down: 'That has done me good.' Setting + the Bible apart, this work is the sovereign friend of the soul. But + whence did the poor solitary who wrote it draw this inexhaustible + love? (for he spoke so effectively only because of his great love.) + He himself tells us the source in every line of his chapters on the + blessed sacrament: the fourth book explains the other three." + +I could multiply quotations of this kind, if they were suited to these +pages, and if it were not better to recommend the book for the +solitary meditation of my readers; I would point out to be remembered +among the most beautiful and consoling pages belonging to our language +and religions literature, all the latter part of Chapter VIII. Nothing +is wanting to make this exquisite little book of l'Abbé Gerbet's more +generally appreciated than it now is but a less frequent combination +of dialectics with the expression of affectionate devotion. Generally +speaking, the tissue of l'Abbé Gerbet's style is too close; when he +has a beautiful thing to say, he does not give it room enough. His +talent is like a sacred wood, too thickly grown;--the temple, +repository, and altar in its depths are surrounded on all sides, and +we can reach them only by footpaths. I suppose that this is because he +has always lived too near his own thoughts, never having had the +opportunity to develop them in public. Feeble health, and a delicate +voice which needs the ear of a friend, have never allowed this rich +talent to unfold itself in teaching or in the pulpit. If at any time +he had been induced to speak in public, he would have been obliged to +clear up, disengage, and enlarge not his views, but the avenues that +lead to them. + +In 1838, being troubled with an affection of the throat, he went to +Rome and, always intending to return home soon, remained there until +1848. It was there that in the leisure moments of a life of devotion +and study, in which, too, the most elevated friendship had its share, +he composed the first two volumes of the work entitled "A Sketch of +Christian Rome," designed to impart to all elevated souls the feeling +and idea of the Eternal City. "The fundamental thought in this book," +he says, "is to concentrate the visible realities of Christian Rome +into a conception and, as it were, a portrait of its spiritual +essence. An excellent interpreter in the way he has chosen for +himself, he goes on to speak of the monuments not with the dry science +of a modern antiquary, {313} or with the _naïf_ enthusiasm of a +believer of the middle ages, but with a reflective admiration which +unites philosophy to piety. + + "The study of Rome in Rome," he says again, "leads us to the living + springs of Christianity. It refreshes all the good feelings of the + heart, and, in this age of storms, sheds a wonderful serenity over + the soul. We must not, of course, attach too much importance to the + charm which we find in certain studies, for books written with + pleasure to one's self run the risk of being written with less + charity. But none the less should we thank the Divine Goodness when + it harmonizes pleasure with duty." + +In these volumes of l'Abbé Gerbet, introductions and dissertations +upon Christian symbolism and church history lead to observations full +of grace or grandeur, and to beautiful and touching pictures. The +Catacombs, which were the cradle and the asylum of Christianity during +the first three centuries, interested him especially, and inspired in +him thoughts of rare elevation. Here are some verses (for l'Abbé +Gerbet is a poet without pretending to be one) which give his first +impressions of them, and show the quality of his soul. The piece is +called "The Song of the Catacombs," and is intended to be sung. +[Footnote 52] + + [Footnote 52: We translate "Le Chant des Catacombes" into prose, + that the noble ideas may be given with literal accuracy. The author + intended it to be sung to the air of "Le Fil de La Vierge" (Scudo). + We give one verse of the original: + + "Hier j'ai visité les grandes Catacombes + Des temps anciens; + J'ai touché de mon front les immortelles tombes + Des vieux Chrétiens: + Et ni l'astre du jour, ni les célestes sphères, + Lettres du feu, + Ne m'avaient mieux fait lire en profonds caractères + Lo nom de Dieu."] + + "Yesterday I visited the great Catacombs of ancient times. I touched + with my brow the immortal tombs of early Christians, and never did + the star of day, nor the celestial spheres with their letters of + fire, teach me more clearly to read in profound characters the name + of God. + + "A black-frocked hermit, with blanched hair, walked on in front-- + old door-keeper of time, old porter of life and death; and we + questioned him about these holy relics of the great fight, as one + listens to a veteran's tales of ancient exploits. + + "A rock served as portico to the funeral vault; and on its fronton + some martyr artist, whose name is known, no doubt, to the angels, + had painted the face of Christ, with the fair hair, and the great + eyes whence streams a ray of deep gentleness like the heavens. + + "Further on, I kissed many a symbol of holy parting upon the tombs. + And the palm, and the lighthouse, and the bird flying to God's + bosom; and Jonas, leaving the whale after three days, with songs, as + we leave this world after three days of trouble called time. + + "Here it was that each one, standing beside his ready-made grave, + like a living spectre, wrestled the fight out, or laid his head down + in expectation! Here, that they might prepare a strong heart + beforehand for the great day of suffering, they tried their graves, + and tasted the first-fruits of death! + + "I sounded with a glance their sacred dust, and felt that the soul + had left a breath of life lingering in these ashes; and that in this + human sand, which weighs so lightly in our hands, lie, awaiting the + great day, germs of the almost god-like forms of eternity. + + "Sacred places, where love knew how to suffer purely for the soul's + good! In questioning you, I felt that its flame could never perish; + for to each being of a day who died to defend the truth, the Being + eternal and true, as the price of time, has given eternity. + + "Here at each step we behold, as it were, a golden throne, and while + treading on tombs we seem to be on Mount Tabor. Go down, go down + into the deep Catacombs, into their lowest recesses--go down, and + your {314} heart shall rise and, looking up from these graves, see + heaven!" + +Beside these verses, which are not found in the volumes of "Christian +Rome," and are only a first utterance, should be placed, as an +original picture full of meaning, his words concerning the slow and +gradual destruction of the human body in the Catacombs. We all know +Bossuet's _mot_ (after Tertullian) in speaking of a human corpse: "It +becomes a something unutterable," he exclaims, "which has no name in +any language." The following admirable page from l'Abbé Gerbet's book +is, as it were, a development and commentary of Bossuet's words. At +this first station of the Catacombs he confines himself to the study +of the nothingness of life: "the work I do not say of death, but of +what comes after death;" the idea of awakening and of future life +follows later. Listen: + + "In your progress you review the various phases of destruction, as + one observes the development of vegetation in a botanic garden from + the imperceptible flower to large trees, rich with sap and crowned + with great blossoms. In a number of sepulchral niches that have been + opened at different periods one can follow, in a manner, step by + step, the successive forms, further and further removed from life, + through which _what is there_ passes before it approaches as closely + as possible to pure nothingness. Look, first, at this skeleton; if + it be well preserved in spite of centuries, it is probably because + the niche where it lies was hollowed out of damp earth. Humidity, + which dissolves all other things, hardens these bones by covering + them with a crust which gives them more consistency than they had + when they were members of a living body. But not the less is this + consistency a progress of destruction; these human bones are turning + to stone. A little further on is a grave where a struggle is going + on between the power that makes the skeleton and the power that + makes dust; the first defends itself, but the second is gaining + ground, though slowly. The combat between life and death that is + taking place in you, and will be over before this combat between one + death and another, is nearly ended. In the sepulchre near by, of all + that was a human frame nothing is left but a sort of cloth of dust, + a little tumbled and unfolded like a small whitish shroud, from + which a head comes out. Look, lastly, at this other niche; there is + evidently nothing there but simple dust, the color of which even is + a little doubtful from its slightly reddish tinge. There, you say, + is the consummation of destruction! Not yet. On looking closely, you + discern a human outline: this little heap, touching one of the + longitudinal extremities of the niche, is the head; these two heaps, + smaller and flatter, placed parallel to each other a little lower + down, are the shoulders; these two are the knees. The long bones are + represented by feeble trails, broken here and there. This last + sketch of man, this vague, rubbed-out form, barely imprinted on an + almost impalpable dust, which is volatile, nearly transparent, and + of a dull, uncertain white, can best give us an idea of what the + ancients called a _shade_. If, in order to see better, you put your + head into the sepulchre, take care; do not move or speak, hold your + breath. That form is frailer than a butterfly's wing, more swift to + vanish than a dewdrop hanging on a blade of grass in the sunshine; a + little air shaken by your hand, a breath, a tone, become here + powerful agents that can destroy in a second what seventeen + centuries, perhaps, of decay have spared. See, you breathed, and the + form has disappeared. So ends the history of man in this world." + +This seems to me quite a beautiful view of death, and one that prompts +the Christian to rise at once to that which is above destruction and +escapes the catacomb--the immortal principle of life, love, sanctity, +and {315} sacrifice. I can only indicate these noble and interesting +considerations to those who are eager to study in material Rome the +higher city and its significance. + +Among l'Abbé Gerbet's writings I will mention only one other, which +is, perhaps, his masterpiece, and is connected with a touching +incident that will be felt most deeply by practically religious +persons, but of which they will not be alone in their appreciation. It +was before the year 1838, previously to the abbé's long residence in +Rome, that he became intimate with the second son of M. de la +Ferronais, former minister of foreign affairs. Young Count Albert de +la Ferronais had married a young Russian lady, Mdlle. d'Alopeus, a +Lutheran in religion, whom he eagerly desired to lead to the faith. He +was dying of consumption at Paris in his twenty-fifth year, and his +end seemed to be drawing near, when the young wife, on the eve of +widowhood, decided to be of her husband's religion; and one night at +twelve o'clock, the hour of Christ's birth, they celebrated in his +room, beside the bed so soon to be a bed of death, the first communion +of one and the last communion of the other. (June 29, 1836.) L'Abbé +Gerbet was the consecrator and consoler in this scene of deep reality +and mournful pathos, but yet so full of holy joy to Christians. It was +the vivid interest of this incomparable and ideal death-bed which +inspired him to write a dialogue between Plato and Fénélon, in which +the latter reveals to the disciple of Socrates all needful knowledge +concerning the other world, and in which he describes, under a +half-lifted veil, a death according to Jesus Christ. + + "O writer of Phaedon, and ever admirable painter of an immortal + death, why was it not given to you to be the witness of the things + which we see with our eyes, hear with our ears, and seize with the + inmost perceptions of the soul, when by a concurrence of + circumstances of God's making, by a rare complication of joy and + agony, the Christian soul, revealed in a new half-light, resembles + those wondrous evenings whose twilight has strange and nameless + tints! What pictures then and what apparitions! Shall I describe one + to you, Plato? Yes, in heaven's name, I will speak. I witnessed it a + few days ago, but at the end of a hundred years I should still call + it a few days. You will not understand the whole of what I tell you, + for I can only speak of these things in the new tongue which + Christianity has made; but still you will understand enough. Know, + then, that of two souls that had waited for each other on earth and + had met," etc. + +Then follows the story, slightly veiled and, as it were, transfigured, +but without hiding the circumstances. "Plato as a Christian would have +spoken thus," said M. de Lamartine of this dialogue, and the eulogium +is only just. + +L'Abbé Gerbet could, no doubt, have written more than one of these +admirable dialogues if he had wished to devote himself to the work, or +if his physical organization had enabled him to labor continuously. He +processes all that is needed to make him the man for Christian +_Tusculanes_. Three times in my life have I had the happiness of +seeing him in places entirely suited to him, and which seemed to make +a natural frame for him: at Juilly, in 1831, in the beautiful shades +that Malebranche used to frequent; in 1839, at Rome, beneath the +arches of solitary cloisters; and yesterday, again, in the episcopal +gardens of Amiens, where he lives, near his friend, M. de Salinis. +Everywhere he is the same. Imagine a slightly stooping figure, pacing +with long, slow steps a peaceful walk, where two can chat comfortably +together on the shady side, and where he often stops to talk. Observe +closely the delicate and affectionate smile, the benign countenance, +in which something reminds us of {316} Fléchier and of Fénélon; listen +to the sagacious words, elevated and fertile in ideas, sometimes +interrupted by fatigue of voice, and by his pausing to take breath; +notice among doctrinal views, and comprehensive definitions that come +to life of themselves and prove their strength upon his lips, those +charming _mots_ and agreeable anecdotes, that talk strewn with +reiniscences and pleasantly adorned with amenity,--and do not ask if +it is any one else--it is he. + +L'Abbé Gerbet has one of those natures which when standing alone are +not sufficient unto themselves, and need a friend; we may say that he +possesses his full strength only when thus leaning. For a long time he +seemed to have found in M. de Lamennais such a friend of firmer will +and purpose; but these strong wills often end, without meaning to do +so, by taking possession of us as a prey, and then casting us like a +slough. True friendship, as La Fontaine understood it, demands more +equality and more consideration. L'Abbé Gerbet has found a tender and +equal friend, quite suited to his beautiful and faithful nature, in M. +de Salinis; to praise one is to win the other's gratitude at once. +Will it be an indiscretion if I enter this charming household and +describe one day there, at least, in its clever and literary +attractions? L'Abbé Gerbet, like Fléchier, whom I have named in +connection with him, has a society talent full of charm, sweetness, +and invention. He himself has forgotten the pretty verses, little +allegorical poems, and couplets appropriate to festivals or occasional +circumstances, which he has scattered here and there, in all the +places where he has lived and the countries he passed through. He is +one of those who can edify without being mournful, and make hours pass +gaily without dissipation. In his long life, into which an evil +thought never glided, and which escaped all turbulent passions, he has +preserved the first joy of a pure and beautiful soul. In him a +discreet spirituality is combined with cheerfulness. I have by me a +pretty little scene in verse which he wrote a few days ago for the +young pupils of the Sacred Heart at Amiens, in which there is a faint +suggestion of Esther, but of Esther enlivened by the neighborhood of +Gresset. The bishop of Amiens always receives them on Sunday evenings, +and they come gladly to his _salon_, where there is no strictness, and +where good society is naturally at home. They play a few games, and +have a lottery, and, in order that no one may draw a blank, l'Abbé +Gerbet makes verses for the loser, who is called, I think, _le nigaud_ +(the ninny). These _nigauds_ of l'Abbé Gerbet are appropriate and full +of wit; he makes them _by obedience_, which saves him, he says, from +all blame and from all thought of ridicule. It is difficult to detach +these trifles from the associations of society that call them forth; +but here is one of the little _impromptus_ made for the use and +consolation "of the losers;" it is called the "Evening Game:" + + "My children, to-day is our Lady's day; + Now tell me, I pray, in her dear name, + Should the hand that this morning a candle clasped, + Hold cards to-night in a childish game? + + I would not with critical words condemn + A pastime the world holds innocent, + Let me but say that its levity + May veil a lesson of deep intent + + Think at the drawing of each card + That every day is an idle game. + If at its close in the treasures of God + There is no prize answering to your name. + + This evening game is an hour well passed + If God be the guardian of your sports; + And the day, closing as it dawned, + Shall rejoin this morning's holy thoughts. + + I startle you all with my grave discourse; + You would laugh and I preach with words austere; + No worldly place this--'tis the bishop's house; + So pardon this sermon, my children dear." + +This is the man who wrote the book upon the eucharist and the dialogue +between Plato and Fénélon, and who had a plan of writing the last +conference of {317} St. Anselm on the soul; this is he whom the French +clergy could oppose with honor to Jouffroy, and whom the most +sympathetic of Protestants could combat only while revering him and +recognizing him as a brother in heart and intelligence. L'Abbé Gerbet +unites to these elevated virtues, which I have merely been able to +glance at, a gentle gaiety, a natural and cultivated charm, which +reminds one even in holiday games of the playfulness of a Rapin, a +Bougeant, a Bonhours. There has been much dispute lately as to the +studies and the degree of literary merit authorized by the clergy; +many officious and clamorous persons have been brought forward, and it +is my desire to notice one who is as distinguished as he is modest. + +For a long time I have said to myself, If we ever have to elect an +ecclesiastic to the French Academy, how well I know who will be my +choice! And what is more, I am quite sure that philosophy in the +person of M. Cousin, religion by the organ of M. de Montalembert, and +poetry by the lips of M. de Lamartine, would not oppose me. + + Monday, Day after the Feast of Assumption, + Aug. 16, 1832. + + [Since the above article was written, the Abbé Gerbet has had + conferred on the episcopal dignity. He died about one year ago.--Ed. + C. W.] + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +OUR NEIGHBOR. + + Set it down gently at the altar rail, + The faithful, aged dust, with honors meet; + Long have we seen that pious face so pale + Bowed meekly at her Saviour's blessed feet. + + These many years her heart was hidden where + Nor moth nor rust nor craft of man could harm; + The blue eyes seldom lifted, save in prayer, + Beamed with her wished for heaven's celestial calm. + + As innocent as childhood's was the face, + Though sorrow oft had touched that tender heart; + Each trouble came as winged by special grace + And resignation saved the wound from smart. + + On bead and crucifix her fingers kept + Until the last, their fond, accustomed hold; + "My Jesus," breathed the lips; the raised eyes slept. + The placid brow, the gentle hand, grew cold. + + The choicely ripening cluster lingering late + Into October on its shriveled vine + Wins mellow juices which in patience wait + Upon those long, long days of deep sunshine. + + Then set it gently at the altar rail, + The faithful, aged dust, with honors meet; + How can we hope if such as she can fail + Before the eternal God's high judgment-seat? + +------ + +{318} + + +From The Literary Workmen + +JENIFER'S PRAYER. + +BY OLIVER CRANE. + +IN THREE PARTS. + + +[CONCLUSION.] + + +PART III. + + +Lady Greystock drove on briskly. They were out of the shadow of the +trees and again on the broad, white gleaming gravelled road that led +to the west lodge, and the turnpike road to Blagden. Not a word was +spoken. On went the ponies, who knew the dark shadows of the elms that +stood at intervals, in groups, two or three together, by the side of +the road, and threw their giant outlines across it, making the +moon-light seem brighter and brighter as it silvered the surface of +the broad carriage drive, and made the crushed granite sparkle--on +went the ponies, shaking their heads with mettlesome impatience when +the pulling of the reins offended them, not frightened at the whirling +of the great droning night insects, which flew out from the oak-trees +on the left, nor shying away from the shadows--on they went through +the sweet, still, soft, scented night air, and the broad, peaceful +light of the silent moon--on they went! Not one word mingled with the +sound of their ringing hoofs, not a breath was heard to answer to the +sighing of the leaves; the "good night" that had been spoken between +the stranger and themselves still seemed to live in the hearing of +those to whom he had spoken, and to keep them in a meditative and +painful silence. + +At last the lodge was reached. The servant opened the gates; the +carriage was driven through; the high road was gained, and all +romantic mystery was over; the dream that had held those silent ones +was gone; and like one suddenly awoke, Lady Greystock said: "Eleanor! +how wonderful; you knew that man! Eleanor! he knew you; asked about +you; had been seeking you. Why was he there in the Beremouth +woods--appearing at this hour, among the ferns and grass, like a wild +creature risen from its lair? Eleanor! why don't you speak to me? Why, +when he spoke of you by your name, did you not answer for yourself? +Why did you send him to Jenifer? Oh! Eleanor; I feel there is +something terrible and strange in all this. I cannot keep it to +myself. I must tell my father. It can't be right. It cannot be for any +good that we met a man lurking about, and not owned by you, though he +is here to find you. Speak, Eleanor! Now that I am in the great high +road I feel as if I had gone through a terror, or escaped some strange +danger, or met a mystery face to face." + +Lady Greystock spoke fast and in a low voice, and Eleanor, bending a +little toward her, heard every word. + +"You _have_ met a mystery face to face," she said in a whisper, which, +however, was sufficiently audible. "I _did_ know that man. And I am +{319} not denying that he sought me, and that he had a right to seek +me. But many things have changed since those old days, when, if I had +obeyed him, I should have done better than I did. I know what he +wants; and Jenifer can give it to him. Here we are at Blagden; think +no more of it, Lady Greystock." + +No answer was given to Eleanor's words; they met Dr. Blagden on the +steps at the door. "You are later than usual--all right?" "All quite +right," said Eleanor. "The beauty of the night tempted us to come home +through Beremouth," said Lady Greystock. "How lovely it would look on +such a sweet, peaceful night," said Mrs. Blagden, who now joined them; +and then Eleanor took the carriage wraps in her arms up stairs, and +Lady Greystock went into the drawing-room, and soon after the whole +household--all but Eleanor--were in bed. + +Not Eleanor. She opened a box where she kept her letters, and many +small objects of value to her, and carefully shutting out the +moonlight, and trimming her lamp into brilliancy, she took out letter +after letter from Henry Evelyn calling her his beloved one, and his +wife; then the letter from Corny Nugent, saying that Henry Evelyn and +Horace Erskine were one; and the one thing that Corny Nugent had sent +to her as evidence--it seemed to be proof sufficient. It was a part of +a letter from Horace to his uncle, Mr. Erskine, which had been flung +into a waste-paper basket, and which, having the writer's signature, +Corny had kept, and sent to Eleanor. Not, as he said, that he knew the +man's handwriting, but that she did; and that, therefore, to her it +would have value as proving or disproving his own convictions. + +Eleanor had never brought this evidence to the proof. She had laid by +Corny's letter, and the inclosure. She had put it all aside with the +weight of a great dread on her mind, and "Not yet, not yet," was all +she said as she locked away both the assertion and the proof. + +But her husband was at Beremouth now. Yes; and on what errand? She +knew that too. + +Mrs. Brewer had called that morning to see Lady Greystock. Mrs. Brewer +had come herself to tell Claudia that Mary would arrive, and that +Horace would bring her. She would not trust any one but herself to +give that information. She never let go the idea of Horace having +behaved in some wrong way to Claudia. She knew Claudia's disposition, +her bravery, her determination; and her guesses were very near the +truth. "Mother Mary" had those womanly instincts which jump at +conclusions; and the truths guessed at through the feelings are +truths, and remain truths for ever, though reason has never proved +them or investigation explained them. + +Then, too, there was her sister's letter, which Mrs. Brewer had sent +to Father Daniels. There the passing fancy for Claudia had been spoken +of. In that letter the love of money had peeped out, and supplied the +motive; but Mrs. Brewer knew very well that Claudia's disposition was +not of a sort to have any acquaintance with passing fancies. If she +had loved Horace, she had loved with her whole heart; and if she had +been deceived in him, her whole heart had suffered, and her whole life +been overcast. "Mother Mary" had felt to some purpose; and now, only +herself should say to Lady Greystock that he was coming among them +again. + +She had arrived at Blagden and she had told Claudia everything; what +Horace wished as to Mary, and what her sister and Mr. Erskine desired; +and she had not hidden her own unwillingness to lose her child, or her +own wish that Mary might have married, when she did marry, some one +more to her mother's mind, and nearer to her mother's {320} house. And +it was in remembrance of this conversation that Lady Greystock, when +she took Jenifer into the carriage, had said: "If you ever pray for my +father, and all he loves, pray _now_?" + +Something of all this had been told by Lady Greystock to Eleanor. And +in the time that the aunt and niece had been together that day, +Eleanor had said to Jenifer, "He is down at the park wanting to marry +Miss Lorimer." + +Jenifer's darling--Jenifer's darling's darling; how she loved "Mother +Mary," and Lansdowne Lorimer's child, only her own great and good +heart knew. What could she do but go to God, and his priest? What +human foresight could have prevented this? What human wisdom could set +things right? And after all, they did not _surely_ know that Eleanor's +husband and Claudia's lover were met in one man, and that man winning +the heart of lovely, innocent Mary Lorimer, and pressing marriage on +her. But for her prayer, Jenifer used to say, she should have gone out +of her mind. Oh, the comfort that grew out of the thought that GOD +KNEW! and that her life and all that was in it were given to him. Such +a shifting of responsibility--such a supporting sense of his never +allowing anything to be in that life that was not, in some way, for +his glory--such practical strength, such heart-sustaining power, grew +out of Jenifer's prayer that even Eleanor's numbed heart rested on it, +and she had learnt to be content to live, from hour to hour, a life of +submission and waiting. + +But was the waiting to be over now?--was something coming? If so, she +must be prepared. And so, diligently, by the lamp-light, Eleanor +produced her own letters, and opened that torn sheet to compare the +writing. It was different in some things, yet the same. As she gazed, +and examined, and compared terminations, and matched the capital +letters together, she knew it was the same handwriting. Time had done +its work. The writing of the present was firmer, harder, done with a +worse pen, written at greater speed. But that was all the change. She +was convinced; and she put away her sorrow-laden store, locked them +safe from sight, said her night prayers, and went to bed. Not a sigh, +nor a tear. No vain regrets, no heart-easing groans. The time for such +consolations had long been passed with Eleanor. Within the last nine +years her life had as much changed as if she had died and risen again +into another world of intermediate trial. A very great change had been +wrought in her by Lady Greystock's friendship. Eleanor had become +educated. The clever, poetical girl, who had won Horace Erskine's +attention by her natural superiority to everything around her--even +when those surroundings had been of a comparatively high state of +cultivation, had hardened into the industrious and laborious woman. +When it pleased Lady Greystock to hear her sing, in her own sweet, +untaught way, the songs of her own country, she had sung them; and +then, when Lady Greystock had offered to cultivate the talent, she had +worked hard at improvement. She had been brought up by French nuns, at +a convent school, and had spoken their language from childhood; when +Lady Greystock got French books, it was Eleanor's delight to read +aloud; and she had made Mrs. Blagden's two little girls almost as +familiar with French as she was herself. Those things had given rise +to the idea that Mrs. Evelyn, as she was always called, had seen +better days; and no one had ever suspected her relationship to +Jenifer. Mr. Brewer alone knew of it. As to Mr. Brewer ever telling +anything that could be considered, in the telling, as a breach of +confidence, that was, of course, impossible. + +That night--that night so important in our story, Jenifer, having done +all her duties by her mistress, which were really not a few, and +having seen that the girl who did the dirty {321} work was safe in the +darkness of a safely put out candle, opened her lattice to look on the +night. Her little room had a back view. That is, it looked over the +flagged kitchen court, and the walled-in flower garden, and beyond +toward the village of Blagden and the majestic woods at the back of +the house at Beremouth. + +Jenifer had gone to bed, and had risen again, oppressed by a feeling +that something was, as she expressed it, "going on--something doing +somewhere--'something up,' as folks say, sir. I can't account for it. +I fancied I heard something--that I was wanted. And I thought at first +that some one was in my room. Then I went into mistress's room, +without my shoes, not to wake her. She was all right, sleeping like a +tender babe. Then I went to Peggy's room. The girl was asleep. I +sniffed up and down the passage, just to find if anything wrong in the +way of smoke or fire was about. No; all was pure and pleasant; and +then I went down stairs to make sure of the doors being locked. +Everything was right, sir"--such was Jenifer's account to Mr. Brewer; +who, when she paused at this point, asked: "What next did you do? Did +you go upstairs again to bed?" "I went upstairs," the woman answered, +"but not to bed. I sat at the window, and looked out over the garden, +and over the meadows beyond the old bridge, and on to Beremouth. And +the night was the brightest, fairest, loveliest night I ever beheld. +And so, sir, I said my prayers once more, and went again to bed; and +slept in bits and snatches, for still I was always thinking that +somebody wanted me, till the clock struck six; and then I got up." +"You don't usually get up at six, or before the girl gets up, do you?" +"No, sir; never, I may say. But I got up to ease my mind of its +burthens. And when Peggy had got up, and was down stairs, I started +off for the alms-house; I thought Mr. Dawson might be up to say mass +there, for it was St. Lawrence's Day." "Well?" "But there had been no +message about mass, and no priest was expected. And as I got back to +our door there was Mrs. Fell, the milk-woman. She had brought the milk +herself. I asked how that should be. She said they had had a cow like +to die in the night, and that their man had been up all night, and +that she was sparing him, for he had gone to lie down. Then I said, +'Why, I could never have heard any of you busy about the cattle in the +night'--you see they rent the meadows. But she said they were not in +the meadows; the beasts were all in the shed at the farm. 'But,' she +said, it's odd if you were disturbed, for a man came to our place just +before twelve o'clock, and asked for you.' 'For me!' I cried--'a man +at your place in the middle of the night, asking for me!' She said, +'Yes; and a decent-spoken body, too. But tired, and wet through and +through. He said he had fallen into the Beremouth deer pond, up in the +park. That is, he described the place clear enough, and we knew it was +the deer pond, for it could not be anywhere else!'" "And did you ask +where the man went to?" "No, sir. I lifted my eyes, and I saw him." +"And who was he?" "Oh, Mr. Brewer, it must all be suffered as he gives +it to me to suffer; but I am not clear about telling his name." + +Mr. Brewer took out his watch and looked at it. "It is nearly ten +o'clock," he said. "Where's your mistress?" + +"Settled to her work, sir." + +Mr. Brewer held this long talk with Jenifer in that right-hand parlor +down stairs where he had paid that money to Mrs. Morier, when the +reader first made his acquaintance. He had great confidence in +Jenifer. He knew her goodness, and her patience, and her trust. He +knew something, too, of her trials, and also of her prayer; but he had +come there to investigate a very serious matter, and he was going +steadily through with it. + +"Listen, Jenifer." + +"Yes, sir." + +{322} + +"Last night, just after our night prayers, Father Daniels being in the +house, my friend, Mr. Erskine, who escorted my step-daughter, Mary +Lorimer, home, went out into the park, just, as was supposed, to have +a cigar before going to bed. Mrs. Brewer and I were in Mary's room +when we heard Mr. Erskine leave the house. He certainly lighted his +cigar. Mary's window was open, and we smelt the tobacco. Jenifer, he +never returned." + +They were both standing and looking at each other. "My life, and all +that is in it!" Up went Jenifer's prayer, but voicelessly, to heaven. +"My life, and all that is in it!" But a strong faith that the one +terrible evil that her imagination pictured would not be in it, was +strong within her. + +"He never returned. My man-servant woke me in my first sleep by +knocking at the bed-room door, and saying that Mr. Erskine had not +returned. I rose up and dressed myself. I collected the men and went +out into the park. We went to the south lodge, to ask if any one had +seen him. 'No,' they said. 'But the west lodge-keeper had been there +as late as near to ten o'clock, and he had said that a man had been in +their house asking a good many questions about Beremouth, and who we +had staying there, and if a Mr. Erskine was there, or ever had been +there, and inquiring what sort of looking man he was, whether he wore +a beard, or had any peculiarity? how he dressed, and if there had ever +been any report of his going to be married? They had answered his +questions, because they suspected nothing worse than a gossiping +curiosity; and they had given him a rest, and a cup of tea. He said +that a friend, a cousin of his, had lived as servant with Mr. Erskine; +and he also asked if Mr. Erskine would be likely to pass through that +lodge the next day, for that he had a great curiosity to see him. He +said that he had known him well once, and wanted greatly to see him +once more. He, after all this talking, asked the nearest way to +Marston. He was directed through the park, and he left them. Our +inquiries about Horace Erskine having been answered by this history +told by one lodge-keeper to the other, we could not help suspecting +that some one had been on the watch for the young man, and taking +Jones from the lodge, and his elder boy with us, we dispersed +ourselves over the park to seek for him, a good deal troubled by what +we had heard. We got to the deer pond, but we had sought many places +before we got there; it did not seem a likely place for a man to go to +in the summer night. We looked about--we went back to get +lanterns--they were necessary in the darkness made by the thick +foliage; one side was bright enough, and the pool was like a +looking-glass where it was open to the sloping turf, and the short +fern, which the deer trample down when they get there to drink; but +the side where the thorns, hollies, and yew-trees grow was as black as +night; and yet we thought we could see where the wild climbing plants +had been pulled away, and where some sort of struggle might have taken +place. As we searched, when we came back, we found strong evidence of +a desperate encounter; the branches of the great thorn-tree were +hanging split from the stem, and, holding the lantern, we saw the +marks of broken ground by the margin of the pond, as if some one had +been struggling at the very edge of it. Then, all at once, and I shall +never understand why we did not see it before--the moonbeams grew +brighter, I suppose--but there in the pond was the figure of a man; +not altogether in the water, but having struggled so far out as to get +his head against the bank, hid as it was with the grass and low +brush-wood, the ferns and large-leaved water-weeds; we laid bold of +the poor {323} fellow--it was Horace Erskine, Jenifer!" + +"_My life, and all that is in it_." But the hope, the faith, rather, +was still alive, that that worst grief should not be in it--so she +prayed--so she felt--for Jenifer! "Master," she gasped, "not dead--not +dead--Mr. Brewer." + +"Not dead!" he said gravely; "he would have been dead if we had not +found him when we did. He was bruised and wounded; such a sight of +ill-treatment as no eyes ever before beheld, I think. He must have +been more brutally used than I could have believed possible, if I had +not seen it. His clothes were torn; his face so disfigured that he +will scarcely ever recover the likeness of a man, and one arm is +broken." "But not dead?" "No; but he _may_ die; the doctor is in the +house, and the police are out after the man whom we suspect of this +horrible barbarity. Now, Jenifer, hearing some talk of a stranger who +seemed to know yon, I came here to ask you to tell me, in your own +honest way, your honest story." + +But Jenifer seemed to have no desire to make confidences. + +"Who told you of a stranger?" + +"Have you not told me yourself, in answer to my first questions, +before giving you my reasons for inquiring?" + +"No, sir; that won't do. I judge from what you said that you had heard +something of this stranger before you came here." + +"I had, Jenifer." And Mr. Brewer looked steadily at her. + +"Well, sir?" + +"Jenifer, I have really come out of tenderness to you, and to those +who may belong to you." + +"No one doubts your tenderness, sir; least of any could I doubt it. +Tell me who mentioned a stranger to you, so as to send you here to +me?" + +"Lady Greystock's groom, coming to Beremouth early, and finding us in +great trouble, made a declaration as to a stranger who had appeared +and stopped his mistress as she was driving through the park last +night. He says this man asked if they could tell where Mrs. Evelyn +lived, and Mrs. Evelyn, immediately answering, said that she lived +somewhere in the neighborhood, and that he could learn by inquiring +for you. The groom says that the man evidently knew Mrs. Morier's +name, as well as year name; and that after speaking to him, Mrs. +Evelyn asked Lady Greystock to drive on, and that she drove rapidly, +and never spoke till they had almost got back to Blagden." + +"It is quite true," said Jenifer. "He told me the same story this +day." + +"Can you say where this man is? He will be found first or last; and it +is for the sake of justice that you should speak, Jenifer. The police +are on his track. Let me entreat you to give me every information. +Concealment is the worst thing that can be practised in such a case as +this--have you any idea where he is? I do not ask you who he is; you +will have to tell all, I fear, before a more powerful person than I +am. I only come as a friend, that you may not be induced to conceal +the evil-doer." + +"The evil-doer," said Jenifer; "who says he did it?" + +"I say he will be tried for doing it; and that a trial is good for the +innocent in such a case of terrible suspicion as this." + +"May be," said Jenifer, "may be!" + +Then, once more, that prayer, said, from her very heart, though +unspoken by her lips; and then these quiet words--"And as to the man +himself. He is my brother. My mother's child by her second husband." +"Your brother--he with whom Eleanor lived in Ireland?" "Yes, Mr. +Brewer; he of whom I told you when you saved Eleanor so {324} many +years ago. And as to where he is--step into the kitchen, sir, and you +may see him sleeping in a chair by the fire--any way, I left him +there, when I came to open the door to you." + +Mr. Brewer had really come to Jenifer in a perfectly friendly way; +exactly as he had said--out of tenderness. He had known enough to send +him there, and to have those within call who would secure this +stranger, whoever he was, and wherever he was found. Now, known, he +walked straight into the kitchen, and there stopped to take a full +view of a man in a leathern easy chair, his arm resting on Jenifer's +tea-table, and sound asleep. A finer man eyes never saw. Strong in +figure, and in face of a remarkable beauty. He was sunburnt; having +pulled his neckcloth off, the skin of his neck showed in fair +contrast, and the chest heaved and fell as the strong breath of the +sleeper was drawn regularly and with healthy ease. It was a picture of +calm rest; it seemed like a pity to disturb it. There stood Mr. Brewer +safely contemplating one who was evidently in a state of blissful +unconsciousness as to danger to others or himself. + +"Your brother?" repeated Mr. Brewer to Jenifer, who stood stiff and +upright by his side. + +"My half-brother, James O'Keefe." + +"There is some one at the front door; will you open it?" + +Jenifer guessed at the personage to be found there. But she went +steadily through the front passage, and, opening the door, let the +policeman who had been waiting enter, and then she came back to the +kitchen without uttering a word. As the man entered Mr. Brewer laid +his hand on the sleeper's shoulder, and woke him. He opened his fine +grey eyes, and looked round surprised. "On suspicion of having +committed an assault on Mr. Horace Erskine last night, in the park at +Beremouth," said the policeman, and the stranger stood up a prisoner. +He began to speak; but the policeman stopped him. "It is a serious +case," he said. "It may turn out murder. You are warned that anything +you say will be used against you at your trial." "Are you a +magistrate, sir?" asked O'Keefe as he turned to Mr. Brewer. "Yea; I +am. I hope you will take the man's advice, and say nothing." + +"But I may say I am innocent?" "Every word you say is at your own +risk." "I ran no risk in saying that I am innocent--that I never saw +this Horace Erskine last night--though if I had seen him--" + +"I entreat you to be silent; you must have a legal adviser"--"I! Who +do I know?"' "You shall be well looked to, and well advised," said +Jenifer. "There are those in this town, in the office where Lansdowne +Lorimer worked, who will work for me." + +It was very hard for Mr. Brewer not to promise on the spot that he +would pay all possible expenses. But the recollection of the +disfigured and perhaps dying guest in his own house rose to his mind, +and he had a painful feeling that he was retained on the other side. +However, he said to Jenifer that perfect truth and sober justice +anybody might labor for in any way. And with this sort of broad hint +he left the house, and Jenifer saw the stranger taken off in safe +custody, and, mounting his horse, rode toward Blagden. He asked for +his daughter; and he was instantly admitted, and shown upstairs into +her sitting-room--there he found Claudia, looking well and happy, +engaged in some busy work, in which Eleanor was helping her. + +"Oh, my dear father!" and Lady Greystock threw the work aside, and +jumped up, and into the arms that waited for her. + +It was always a sort of high holiday when Mr. Brewer come by himself +to visit his daughter. When the sound of the brown-topped boots was +{325} heard on the stairs, like a voice of music to Claudia's heart, +all human things gave way, for that gladness that her father's great +heart brought and gave away, all round him, to everybody, +everywhere--but _there_, there, where his daughter lived--there, among +the friends with whom she had recovered from a great illness and got +the better of a threatened, life-long woe--there Mr. Brewer felt some +strong influence making him _that_, which people excellently expressed +when they said of him--"he was more than ever himself that day." + +Now Mr. Brewer's influence was to make those to whom he addressed +himself honest, open, and good. He was loved and trusted. It did not +generally enter into people's minds to deceive Mr. Brewer. Candor grew +and gained strength in his presence. Candor took to herself the +teachings of wisdom; candor listened to the advice of humility; candor +threw aside all vain-glorious garments when Mr. Brewer called for her +company, and candor put on, forthwith, the crown of truth. "My +darling!" said Mr. Brewer, as he kissed Claudia; "my darling!" + +"Oh, my dear father--my father, my dear father!" so answered Claudia. + +Then she pushed forward a chair; and then Eleanor made ready to leave +the room. "Yes, go; go for half an hour, Mrs. Evelyn. But don't be out +of the way; I have a fancy for a little chat with you, too, to-day." A +grave smile spread itself over Eleanor's placid face as she said she +should come back when Lady Greystock sent for her, and then she went +away. Once more, when she was gone, Mr. Brewer stood up and taking +Claudia's hand, kissed her. "My darling," he said, "I have something +to say, and I can only say it to you--I have some help to ask for, and +only you can help me. But are you strong enough to help me; are you +loving enough to trust me?" + +"I will try to be all you want, father; I _am_ strong; I _can_ +trust--but if you want to know how much I love you--why, you know I +can't tell you that--it is more than I can measure, I am afraid. Don't +look grave at me. It can't be anything very solemn, if _I_ can help +you; or anything of much importance, if my help is worth your having." + +"Your help is absolutely necessary; at least necessary to my own +comfort--now, Claudia. Tell your father why you broke off your +engagement with Horace Erskine." + +"_He_ did it"--she trembled. Her father took her little hand into the +grasp of his strong one, and held it with an eloquent pressure. + +"He wanted more money, father. It came as a test. He was in debt. I +had loved him, as if--as if he had been what _you_ must have been in +your youth. You were my one idea of man. I had had no heart to study +but yours. I learnt that Horace Erskine was unworthy. He was a coward. +The pressure of his debts had crushed him into meanness. He asked me +to bear the trial, and to save him. I did. I did, father!" + +"Yes, my darling." + +He never looked at her. Only the strong fingers closed with powerful +love on the little hand within their grasp. "But you were fond of Sir +Geoffrey?" + +"Yes; and glad, and grateful. I should have been very happy--but--" + +"But he died," said her father, helping her. + +"But Horace sent to Sir Geoffrey the miniature I had given +him--letters--and a lock of my poor curling hair--" How tight the +pressure of the strong hand grew. "I found the open packet on the +table"--she could not say another word. Then a grave, deep voice told +the rest for her--"And your honored husband's soul went up to God and +found the truth"--and the head of the poor memory-stricken daughter +found a refuge on her father's breast, and she wept there silently. + +"And that made you ill, my darling; my dear darling Claudia--my own +{326} dear daughter! Thank you, my precious one. And you don't like +Beremouth now?" + +"I love Beremouth, and everything about it," cried Lady Greystock, +raising her head, and gathering all her strength together for the +effort; "but I dare not see this man--and I would rather never look +again on the deer-pond in the park, because there he spoke: there he +promised--there I thought all life was to be as that still pool, +deep, and overflowing with the waters of happiness and their +never-ceasing music. We used to go there every day. I have not looked +on it since--I could not bear to listen to the rush of the stream +where it falls over the stones between the roots of the old trees, +between whose branches the tame deer would watch us, and where old +Dapple--the dear old beauty whose name I have never mentioned in all +these years---used to take biscuits from our hands. Does old Dapple +live, father? Dapple, who was called _'old'_ nine years ago?" And Lady +Greystock looked up, and took her hand from her father's grasp, and +wiped her eyes, and wetted her fair forehead from a bowl of water, and +tried by this question to get away from the misery that this sudden +return to the long past had brought to mind. + +"Dapple lives," said Mr. Brewer. And then he kissed her again, and +thanked her, and said "they should love each other all the better for +the confidence he had asked and she had given." + +"But why did you ask?" + +"I want to have my luncheon at your early dinner," said Mr. Brewer, +not choosing to answer her. "You do dine early, don't you?" + +"Yes, and to-day Eleanor was going to dine with me." + +"Quite right. And I want to speak to her. Claudia, something has +happened. You most know all before long. Everybody will know. You had +better be in the room while I speak to Eleanor. Let us get it over. +But you had better take your choice. It is still about Horace that I +want to speak--to speak to Eleanor, I mean." + +"I should wish to be present," said Claudia. And she rose and rang the +bell. + +"Will you ask Mrs. Evelyn to come to us?" she said, when her servant +appeared. In a very few minutes in walked Eleanor. + +"Mrs. Evelyn," said Mr. Brewer, "last night you directed a man to seek +Jenifer at Mrs. Morier's house. That man was James O'Keefe, Jenifer's +half-brother. You knew him?" "Yes, Mr. Brewer, I knew him." "But he +did not know you?" "No." "He asked about you. Why did you send him to +Marston?" "Because he could there learn all he wanted to know. I am +not going to bring the shadow of my troubles into this kind house." +"That was your motive?" "Yes. But I might have had more motives than +one. I think that was uppermost; and on that motive I believe that I +acted." + +"That man was in the park. At the lodge-gate he had made inquiries +after my guest, Mr. Erskine. That man was at Mrs. Fell's, the +dairy-woman, at midnight. He was not through; he had, he said, fallen +into the water--he described the place, and they knew it to be the +deer-pond." + +As Mr. Brewer went on in his plain, straightforward way, both women +listened to him with the most earnest interest; but as he proceeded +Eleanor Evelyn fixed her eye on him with an anxiety and a mingled +terror that had a visible effect on Mr. Brewer, who hesitated in his +story, and who seemed to be quite distracted by the manner of one +usually so very calm and so unfailingly self-processed. + +"Now Mr. Erskine had gone out into the park late. Mr. Erskine, my dear +friends,--Mr. Erskine _never came back._" {327} He paused, and +collected his thoughts once more, in order to go on with his story. + +"We went to seek for him. He was found at last, at the deer-pond, +surrounded by the evidences of a hard struggle having taken place +there, a struggle in which he had only just escaped with his life. He +has been ill-treated in a way that it is horrible to contemplate. He +is lying now in danger of death. And this morning I have assisted in +the capture of James O'Keefe, whom I found by Mrs. Morier's kitchen +fire, for this possible murder. I should tell you that Mr. Erskine is +just as likely to die as to live." + +"Mr. Brewer," said Eleanor, rising up and taking no notice of Lady +Greystock's deathlike face,--"Mr. Brewer, is there any truth in a +report that has reached me from a man who was in the elder Mr. +Erskine's service in Scotland--a report to the effect that Mr. Horace +Erskine wished to propose marriage, or had proposed marriage, to Miss +Lorimer?" + +"There _is_ truth in that report," said Mr. Brewer. + +"Then I must see that man," said Mrs. Evelyn. "Before this terrible +affair can proceed, I must see Horace Erskine. If indeed it be true +that he has received this terrible punishment, I can supply a motive +for James O'Keefe's conduct that any jury ought to take into +consideration." + +"But O'Keefe denies having ever seen him," said Mr. Brewer. "He does +not deny having inquired about him. He even said words before me that +would make me suppose that he had come into this neighborhood on +purpose to see him, and to take some vengeance upon him. Mr. Erskine +is found with the marks of the severest ill-usage about him, and you +say you can supply a motive for such a deed. O'Keefe, however, denies +all but the will to work evil; he confesses to the will to do the +deed, but denies having done it." + +"I must see Mr. Erskine," was all that Eleanor answered. "I must see +Mr. Erskine. Whether he sees me or not, _I_ must see _him_." + +The young woman was standing up--her face quite changed by the +expression of anxious earnestness that animated it. + +"I must see Mr. Erskine. Mr. Brewer, you must so manage it that I must +see Mr. Erskine without delay." + +"But you would do no good," said Mr. Brewer, in a very stern tone and +with an utter absence of all his natural sympathy. "The man is so +injured that his own mother could not identify him." + +"Then may God have mercy on us!" cried Eleanor, sinking into a chair. +"If I could only have seen that man before this woe came upon us!" + +And then that woman burst into one of those uncontrollable fits of +tears that are the offspring of despair. Lady Greystock looked at her +for a moment, and then rose from her chair. "Victories half won are +neither useful nor honorable," she said. "Wait, Eleanor, I will show +you what that man was." + +She opened a large metal-bound desk, curiously inlaid, and with a look +of wondrous workmanship. She said, looking at her father, "I left this +at Beremouth, never intending to see it again, But it got sent here a +few years ago. It has never been opened since I locked it before my +wedding day." She opened it, and took out several packets and small +parcels. Then she opened one--it was a miniature case which matched +that one of herself which had been so cruelly sent to good, kind Sir +Geoffrey--she opened it "Who is that, Eleanor?" It was curious to see +how the eyes, blinded by tears, fastened on it "My husband--my +husband--Henry Evelyn. My husband, Mr. Brewer. Oh, Lady Greystock, +thank God that at any cost he did not run his soul still {328} farther +into sin by bringing on you and on himself the misery of a marriage +unrecognized by God." + +"And because your unde, James O'Keefe, heard the report that got about +concerning that man and Miss Lorimer, he ran his own soul into a guilt +that may by this time have deepened into the crime of murder. Oh, +Eleanor! when shall we remember that 'vengeance is mine, saith the +Lord?'" + +"_My life, and all that is in it!_" The words came forth softly, and +Mr. Brewer, turning round, saw Jenifer. + +"He has been before the magistrates at Marston, Mr. Brewer. He has +denied all knowledge of everything about it. He is remanded on the +charge--waiting for more evidence--waiting to see whether Mr. Erskine +lives or dies. I hired a gig, and came off here to you as fast as I +could be driven. Mr. May, in the old office, says that if Mr. Erskine +dies, it will be hard to save him. But the doctor's man tells me Mr. +Erskine has neither had voice nor sight since he was found--I saw +Father Daniels in the street, and he, too, is evidence against the +poor creature. He knows of Corny Nugent's letter; and Corny wrote to +Jem also, so Jem told me, and he came off here to make sure that +Horace Erskine and Henry Evelyn were the same people. And he walked +from the Northend railway station, and asked his way to Beremouth, and +got a gossip with the gate-keeper, and settled to come on to Marston. +And he met Lady Greys took in the carriage, and asked where Eleanor +lived, and inquired his way. Did you know him, Eleanor?" + +"Yes, I knew him directly; and it was partly because I knew him that I +directed him on to you." + +"Then he lost his way, and took to getting out of the park by walking +straight away in the direction he knew Marston to be lying in. And he +got by what we call 'the threshetts,' sir--the water for keeping the +fishponds from shallowing--and there he must have fallen in, for he +says he climbed the hedge just after, and walked straight away through +the grass fields and meadows, and seeing the lights where the Fells +were tending the sick cow last night, he got in there, all dripping +wet, as the town-clock struck twelve. He does not deny to the +magistrates that if he had found Horace Erskine and Henry Evelyn to be +one and the same man, that he might have been tempted to evil; he does +not deny that. He says he felt sore tempted to go straight to +Beremouth House and have him out from sleep and bed, if to do so could +have been possible, and to have given him his punishment on the spot. +He says he wished as he wandered through the park that something might +send the man who had injured us all so sorely out to him, to meet him +in the way, that they might have come hand to hand, and face to face. +He says he has had more temptations since Corny Nugent's letter to +him, and more heart-stirrings in the long silent time before it came, +than he can reckon up; and that he has felt as if a dark spirit goaded +him to go round the world after that man, and never cease following +him till he had made his own false tongue declare to all the earth his +own false deeds--but something, he says, kept him back. Always kept +him back till now; till now, when Corny's last letter said that +Erskine was surely gone to Beremouth to be married. Then, he said, it +was as if something sent him--ah yes; and sent him _here_ to see the +man, to make sure who he was. To tell you, as a brother Catholic, the +whole truth--to keep from the dear convert mother the bitter grief of +seeing her child bound to a man whom she could never call that child's +husband. So {329} he came, Mr. Brewer. He came, and he was found +here--but he knows no more of the punishment of that poor man, that +poor girl's husband"--pointing to Eleanor--"than an unborn babe. As I +hear him speak, I trace the power of the prayer that I took up long +ago in my helplessness--when I could not manage my own troubles, my +own life, my own responsibilities, it came into my heart to offer all +to him. '_My life and all that is in it_.' You and yours have been in +it, Mr. Brewer. Your wife has been in it, her life, and her +child's--you, too, my dear," turning to Claudia,--"you whom I have +loved like one belonging to me--you have been in it; and that woman, +my sister's legacy to my poor helplessness. There were so many to care +for, to fear for, to suffer for, and to love--how could I put things +right, or keep off dangers? I could only give up all to the Father of +us all--'_My life, and all that is in it_.' And I tell you this, Mr. +Brewer--I tell it [to] you because my very soul seems to know it, and +my lips must utter it: In that life there will be no red-handed +punishment--no evil vengeance--no vile murder, nor death without +repentance. I cannot tell you, I cannot even guess, how that bad man +got into this trouble--I have no knowledge of whose hands he fell +into--but not into the hands of any one who belongs to me, or to that +life which has been so long given into God's keeping." + +Jenifer stopped speaking. She had been listened to with a mute +attention. Her hearers could not help feeling convinced by her +earnestness. She had spoken gently, calmly, sensibly. The infection of +her entire faith in the providence of God seized them. They, too, +believed. Lady Greystock, the only one not a Catholic, said afterward +that she felt quite overpowered by the simple trust that Jenifer +showed, and the calm strength with which it endowed her. And Lady +Greystock was the first to answer her. + +"It is no time for self-indulgence," she said. "Father, Eleanor and I +must both go to Beremouth. And we must stay there. We must be there on +the spot, to see how these things are accounted for--to know how +matters end--to help, as far as we may, to bring them right." + +And so, before two hours were over, Jenifer was back in Mrs. Morier's +parlor, and Mary Lorimer was with her; sent there to stay; and Lady +Greystock and Mrs. Evelyn were at Beremouth. + +There was silence in the house, that sort of woful silence that +belongs to the anxiety of a dreadful suspense. Toward evening there +were whispered hopes--Mr. Erskine was better, people thought. But the +severest injuries were about the neck and throat, the chest and +shoulders. His hair had been cut off in large patches where the head +wounds were--his face was disfigured with the bandages that the +treatment made necessary. He lay alive, and groaning. He was better. +When more was known about the injuries done to the throat and chest, +something less doubtful would be said as to his recovery. "If he can't +swallow, he'll die," said one nurse. "He can live long enough without +swallowing," said another. And still they waited. + +At night, Eleanor and Lady Greystock stood in the room, with Mr. +Brewer, far off by the door, looking at him. There was no love in +either heart. The poor wife shrank away, almost wishing that the +period of desertion might last for ever. + +A week passed, a terribly long week. He could swallow. He could speak. +He could see out of one eye. He had his senses. He had said something +about his arm. He would be ready in another week to give some account +of all he had gone {330} through. He would be able, perhaps, to +identify the man. In the meantime, James O'Keefe was safe in custody. +And Jenifer was saying her prayer--"_My life, and all that is in it;_" +still quite sure, with a strong, simple, never-failing faith, that the +great evil of a human and remorseless vengeance was not in it. And +yet, as time passed on, and, notwithstanding every effort made by the +police, backed by the influence of all that neighborhood, and by Mr. +Brewer himself, not a mark of suspicion was found against any one +else, it seemed to come home to every one's mind with the force of +certainty that James O'Keefe had tried to murder Horace Erskine--that +James O'Keefe had done this thing, and no one else. + +Very slowly did Horace seem to mend--very slowly. When questions were +put to him in his speechless state, he seemed to grow so utterly +confused as to alarm his medical attendants. It was made a law at +Beremouth that he was to be kept in perfect quietness. James O'Keefe +was again brought before the magistrates, and again remanded; and +still this time of trial went on, and still, when it was thought +possible to speak to Horace on the subject of his injuries, he grew so +utterly confused that it was impossible to go on with the matter. + +Was there to be no end to this misery? The waiting was almost +intolerable. The knowledge that now existed in that house of Horace +Erskine's life made it very easy to understand his confusion and +incoherency when spoken to of his injuries. But the lingering--the +weight of hope deferred--the long contemplation of the miserable +sufferer--the slowness of the passage of time, was an inexpressible +burthen to the inhabitants of Beremouth. + +One sad evening, Lady Greystock and her father, on the terrace, talked +together. "Come with me to the deer-pond, Claudia." She shrank from +the proposal "Nay," he said, "come! You said at Blagden that half +victories were powerless things. You must not be less than your own +words. Come to the deer-pond--now." So she took his arm and they +walked away. It was the beginning of a sweet, soft night--the evening +breezes played about them, and they talked together in love and +confidence, as they crossed the open turf, and were lost in the +thickets that gathered round the gnarled oak and stunted yew that +marked the way to the pond. + +It had been many years since Claudia had seen its peaceful waters; +terrible in dreams once; and now saddened by a history that would +belong to it for ever. They reached the spot, and stood there talking. + +Suddenly they heard a sound, they started--a tearing aside of the +turning boughs--a sound, strong, positive, angry--then a gentle +rustling of the leaves, a soft movement of the feathery fern--and Lady +Greystock had let go her father's arm, and was standing with her hand +on the head, between the antlers, of a huge old deer--Dapple--"Don +Dapple," as the children had called him--and speaking to him +tenderly--"Oh, Dapple, do you know me? Oh, Dapple--alas! poor +beast--did you do it--that awful thing? Are you so fierce, poor +beast--were you the terrible avenger?" How her tears fell! How her +whole frame trembled! How the truth came on her as she looked into the +large, tearful eyes of the once tame buck, that had grown fanciful and +fierce in its age, and of whom even some of the keepers had declared +themselves afraid. Mr. Brewer took biscuit from his coat-pocket, +chance scraps from lunches, secreted from days before, when he had +been out on long rounds through the farms. These old Dapple nibbled, +and made royal gestures of satisfaction and approval--and there, +viewing his stately head in the water, where his spreading antlers +were mirrored, they left him to walk home, with one wonder out of +their hearts, and another--wondering awe at the thing that had +happened among them--to by their for ever. + +{331} + +They came back, they called the doctors, they examined the torn +clothes. They wondered they had never thought of the truth before. + +Time went on. And at last, when Horace could speak, and they asked him +about the old deer at the pond, he said that it was so--it was as they +had thought. It had been an almost deadly struggle between man and +beast; and Horace was to bear the marks upon the face and form that +had been loved so well to his life's end. A broken-featured man, lame, +with a stiff arm, and a sightless eye--and the story of his ruined +life no longer a secret--known to all. + +Lady Greystock and Mrs. Evelyn remained at Beremouth. Mary Lorimer was +left at her grandmother's under the care of the trusty Jenifer. James +O'Keefe had returned to Ireland, leaving his niece and her history in +good guardianship with Father Daniels and Mr. Brewer; and Freddy, +being at school, had been happily kept out of the knowledge of all but +the surface facts, which were no secrets from anybody, that a man who +had been seen in the park and was a stranger in the neighborhood had +been suspected of being the perpetrator of the injuries of which the +old deer had been guilty. Poor old deer--poor aged Dapple! It was with +a firm hand and an unflinching determination that the kindest man +living met the beast once more at the deer-pond, and shot him dead. +Mr. Brewer would trust his death to no hand but his own--and there in +the thicket where he loved to hide a grave was dug, and the monarch of +the place was buried in it. + +Lady Greystock and Eleanor kept their own rooms, and lived together +much as they had done latterly at Blagden. When Horace Erskine was fit +to leave his bed-room, he used to sit in a room that had been called +"Mr. Brewer's." It was, in fact, a sort of writing-room, fitted up +with a small useful library and opening at the end into a bright +conservatory. He had seen Lady Greystock. He knew of Eleanor being in +the house. He knew also that his former relations with her were known, +and he never denied, or sought to deny, the fact of their Catholic +marriage. + +No one ever spoke to him on the subject. The subject that was first in +all hearts was to see him well and strong, and able to act for +himself. One thing it was impossible to keep from him; and that was +the anger of Mr. Erskine, his unde, an anger which Lucia his wife did +not try to modify. Mrs. Brewer wrote to her sister; Mr. Brewer pleaded +with his brother-in-law. Not a thing could they do to pacify them. +Horace was everything that was evil in their eyes; his worst crime in +the past was his having made a Catholic marriage with a beautiful +Irish girl, and their great dread for the future was that he would +make this marriage valid by the English law. They blamed Mr. Brewer +for keeping Eleanor in the house; they were thankless to Mr. Brewer +for still giving to Horace care, kindness, and a home. Finally, the +one great dread that included all other dreads, and represented the +overpowering woe, was that contained in the thought that Horace might +repent, and become a Papist. + +Mr. Brewer, when it came to that, set his all-conquering kindness +aside for the time, or, to adopt his wife's words when describing +these seeming changes in her husbands's character, "he clothed his +kindness in temporary armor, and went out to fight." He replied to Mr. +and Mrs. Erskine that for such a grace to fall on Horace would be the +answer of mercy to the prayer of a poor woman's faith--that he and all +his household joined in that prayer; that priests at the altar, and +nuns in their holy homes, were all praying for that great result; and +that for himself he would only say that for such a mercy to fall upon +his house would make him glad for ever. + +There was no disputing with a man who could so openly take his stand +on {332} such a broad ground of hope and prayer in such direct +opposition to the wishes of his neighbors. The Erskines became silent, +and Mr. Brewer had gained all he hoped for; peace, peace at least for +the time. + +At last Horace was well enough to move, and Freddy's holidays were +approaching, and there was an unexpressed feeling that Horace was not +to be at Beremouth when the boy came back. Mr. Brewer proposed that +Horace should go for change of air to the same house in which Father +Dawson was lodging, just beyond Clayton, where the sea air might +refresh him, and the changed scene amuse his mind; and where, too, he +could have the benefit of all those baths, and that superior +attendance, described in the great painted advertisement that covered +the end of the lodging-houses in so promising a manner. Horace +accepted the proposal gladly. He grew almost bright under the +expectation of the change, and when the day came he appeared to +revive, even under the fatigue of a drive so much longer than any that +he had been before allowed to venture upon. + +Mr. Dawson was to be kind, and to watch over him a little; and Father +Daniels was to visit him, and write letters for him, and be his, +adviser and his friend. Before he left Beremouth he had asked to see +Lady Greystock. She went with her father to his room quite with the +old Claudia Brewer cheerfulness prettily mingling with woman's +strength and woman's experience. He rose up, and said, "I wished to +ask you to forgive me, Lady Greystock--to forgive me my many sins +toward you!" She trembled a little, and said, "Mr. Erskine, may God +forgive _me_ my pride, my anger, my evil thoughts, which have made me +say so often I could never see nor pardon you." It seemed to require +all her strength to carry out the resolution with which she had +entered that room. "Of course," she went on, "the personal trial that +you brought upon me, here, in my young days, I know now to have been a +great blessing in a grief's disguise. Though not--_not yet_--a +Catholic, I know you were then, as now, a married man." Horace Erskine +never moved; he was still standing, holding by the heavy +writing-table, and his eyes were fastened on the carpet. She went on: +"Since then your wife, a beautiful and even an accomplished woman, has +become my own dear friend. We are living together, and until she has a +home of her own, we shall probably go on living together. I have +nothing, therefore, to say more, except--except--" Here her voice +trembled, and changed, and she was only just able to articulate her +last words so as to be understood by her hearers, "Except about my +dear husband's death--better death than life under misapprehension. +That too was a blessing perhaps. Let us leave it to the Almighty +Judge. I forgive you; if you wish to hear those words from my poor +erring lips, you may remember that I have said them honestly, +submitting to the will of _him_ who loves us, and from whom I seek +mercy for myself." + +She turned round to leave the room. "Stop, Lady Greystock; stop!" +cried Horace. "In this solemn moment of sincerity, tell me--do you +think Eleanor loves me now?" "I would rather not give any opinion." +"If you have ever formed an opinion, give it. I entreat you to tell me +what is, as far as you know, the truth. Does Eleanor love me?" "Must I +speak, father?" "So solemnly entreated, I should say, _yes_." "Does +Eleanor love me?" groaned Horace. "No," said Lady Greystock; and +turning round quickly, she left her father alone with Horace, and went +out of the room. + +Five years passed by. Freddy was growing into manhood, enjoying home +by his bright sister Lady {333} Greystock's side, and paying visits to +his other sister, the happy bride, Mrs. Harrington, of +Harrington-leigh, the master of which place, "a recent convert," as +the newspapers said, "had lately married the convert step-daughter of +Mr. Brewer, of Beremouth." Lady Greystock always lived with her father +now, united to him in faith, and joining him in such a flood of good +works that all criticism, all wonderment, all lamentation and argument +at "such a step!" was simply run down, overpowered, deluged, drowned. +The strong flowing stream of charity was irresistible. The solemn +music of its deep waters swallowed up all the surrounding cackle of +inharmonious talk. Nothing was heard at Beremouth but prayer and +praise--evil tongues passed by that great good house to exercise +themselves elsewhere. Evil people found no fitting habitation for +their wandering spirits in that home of holy peace. And all his life +Mr. Brewer walked humbly, looking at Claudia, and calling her "my +crown!" She knew why. He had repented with a great sorrow of those +early days when he had left her to others' teaching. He had prayed +secretly, with strong resolutions, to be blessed with forgiveness. And +at last the mercy came--"crowned at last. All the mercies of my life +crowned by the great gift of Claudia's soul." So the good man went on +his way a penitent. Always in his own sight a penitent. Always +recommending himself to God in that one character--as a penitent. + +Five years were passed, and Lady Greystock had been at Mary's wedding, +and was herself at Beremouth, still in youth and beauty, once more the +petted daughter of the house--but Eleanor was there no longer. Full +three years had passed since Eleanor had gone to London with Lady +Greystock, and elected not to return. They heard from her however, +frequently; and knew where she was. When these letters came Claudia +would drive off to Marston to see Grandmamma Morier, still enjoying +life under Jenifer's care. The letters would be read aloud upstairs in +the pretty drawing-room where the fine old china looked as gay and +bright as ever, and where not a single cup and saucer had changed its +place. Jenifer would listen. Taking careful note of every expression, +and whispering--sometimes in the voice of humble prayer, sometimes in +soft tones of triumphant thanksgiving--"My life, and all that is in +it!" + +But now this five years' close had been marked by a great fact; the +death of Horace Erskine's uncle, and his great estate passing to his +nephew, whom he had never seen since their quarrel with him, but whom +he had so far forgiven as not to alter his will. + +Horace Erskine was in London; and his Beremouth friends were going up +to town to welcome him home after four years of life on the continent. + +London was at its fullest and gayest. Mr. Erskine had been well known +there, making his yearly visits, taking a great house, and attracting +round him all the talent of the day. A very rich man, thoroughly well +educated, with a fine place in Scotland, and his beautiful wife Lucia +by his side, he found himself welcome, and made others in their turn +welcome too. Now all this was past. For two seasons London had missed +Mr. Erskine, and he had been regretted and lamented over, as a +confirmed invalid. Now he was dead. And after a little brief wonder +and sorrow the attention of the world was fixed upon his heir, and +people of fashion, pleasure, and literature got ready their best +smiles for his approval. + +Horace had been well enough known once. Never exactly sought {334} +after by heads of homes, for he was too much of a speculation. He was +known to be in debt; and all inquiries as to his uncle's property had +been quenched again and again by those telling words, "no entail." But +Horace had had his own world; and had been only too much of a hero in +it. That world, however, had lost him; and as the wheels of fashion's +chariot fly fast, the dust of the light road rises as a cloud and +hides the past, and the people that belonged to Horace Erskine had +been left behind and forgotten. Now, however, Memory was alive, and +brushing up her recollections; and Memory had found a tongue, and was +hoping and prophesying to the fullest extent of friend Gossip's +requirements, when the news came that Horace Erskine had arrived. "He +has taken that charming house looking on to the park. Mr. Tudor had +seen him. Nobody would know him. Broken nose, my dear! And he was so +handsome. He is lame, too--or if not lame, he has a stiff shoulder. I +forget which it is. He was nearly killed by some mad animal in the +park at Beremouth. He behaved with the most wonderful courage, +actually fought and conquered! But he was gored and trampled +on--nearly trampled to death. I heard all the particulars at the time. +His chest was injured, and he was sent to a warmer climate. And there +he turned Papist. He did, indeed! and his uncle never forgave him. But +I suspect it was a love affair. You know he has brought his wife home. +And she is lovely, everybody who has seen her says. She is so very +still--too quiet--too statuesque--that is her only fault in fact. But +all the world is talking of her, and if you have not yet seen her lose +no time in getting introduced; she is the wonder of the day." + +And so ran the talk--and such was Eleanor's welcome as Horace +Erskine's wife. Her husband had really repented, and had sought her, +and won her heart all over again, and married her once more. + +To have these great triumphs of joy and justice in her life was +granted to Jenifer's Prayer. + +------ + +From The Month. + +SAINTS OF THE DESERT. + +BY VERY REV. J. H. NEWMAN, D.D. + + +1. Abbot Cyrus said to a brother: "If thou hadst no fight with bad +thoughts, it would be because thou didst bad actions; for they who do +bad actions are thereby rid of bad thoughts." + +"But," said the other, "I have bad memories." + +The abbot answered: "They are but ghosts; fear not the dead, but the +living." + + +2. When Agatho was dying, his brethren would have asked him some +matter of business. He said to them: "Do me this charity; speak no +more with me, for I am full of business already." And he died in joy. + + + +3. An old man visited one of the fathers. The host boiled some +pot-herbs, and said: "First let us do the work of God, and then let us +eat." + +------ + +{335} + + +[ORIGINAL.] + +CHRISTINE: + +A TROUBADOUR'S SONG, + +IN FIVE CANTOS. + +BY GEORGE H. MILES. [Footnote 53] + + [Footnote 53: Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year + 1866, by Lawrence Kehoe, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court + of the United States for the Southern District of New York.] + +(CONCLUDED.) + + +THE FOURTH SONG. + +I. + + Amid the gleam of princely war + Christine sat like the evening star, + Pale in the sunset's pageant bright, + A separate and sadder light. + O bitter task + To rear aloft that shining head, + While round thee, cruel whisperers ask-- + "Marry, what aileth the Bridegroom gay? + The heralds have waited as long as they may. + Yet never a sign of the gallant Grey. + Is Miolan false or dead?" + +II. + + The Dauphin eyed Christine askance: + "We have tarried too long," quoth he; + "Doth the Savoyard fear the thrust of France? + By the Bride of Heaven, no laggard lance + Shall ever have guard of thee!" + +{336} + + You could see the depths of the dark eyes shine + And a glow on the marble cheek, + As she whispered, "Woe to the Dauphin's line + When the eagle shrieks and the red lights shine + Bound the towers of Pilate's Peak." + + She levelled her white hand toward the west, + Where the omen beacon shone; + And he saw the flame on the castle crest. + And a livid glare light the mountain's breast + Even down to the rushing Rhone. + + Never braver lord in all the land + Than that Dauphin true and tried; + But the rein half fell from his palsied hand + And his fingers worked at the jewelled brand + That shook in its sheath at his side. + + For it came with a curse from earliest time, + It was carved on his father's halls, + It had haunted him ever from clime to clime, + And at last the red light of the ancient rhyme + Is burning on Pilate s walls! + + Yet warrior-like beneath his feet + Trampling the sudden fear, + He cried, "Let thy lover's foot be fleet-- + If thy Savoyard would wed thee, sweet. + By Saint Mask, he were better here! + + "For I know by yon light there is danger near, + And I swear by the Holy Shrine, + Be it virgin spear or Miolan's heir. + The victor to-day shall win and wear + This menaced daughter of mine!" + + The lists are aflame with the gold and steel + Of knights in their proud array, + And gong and tymbalon chiming peal + As forward the glittering squadrons wheel + To the jubilant courser's neigh. + + The Dauphin springs to the maiden's side, + And thrice aloud cries he, + "Ride, gallants all, for beauty ride, + Christine herself is the victor's bride. + Whoever the victor be!" + +{337} + + And thrice the heralds cried it aloud, + While a wondering whisper ran + From the central lists to the circling crowd, + For all knew the virgin hand was vowed + To the heir of Miolan. + + Quick at the Dauphin's plighted word + Full many an eve flashed fire, + Full many a knight took a truer sword, + Tried buckle and girth, and many a lord + Chose a stouter lance from his squire. + + Back to the barrier's measured bound + Each gallant speedeth away; + Then, forward fast to the trumpet's sound, + A hundred horsemen shake the ground + And meet in the mad melée. + + Crimson the spur and crimson the spear, + The blood of the brave flows fast; + But Christine is deaf to the dying prayer, + Blind to the dying eyes that glare + On her as they look their last. + + She sees but a Black Knight striking so well + That the bravest shun his path; + His name or his nation none may tell, + But wherever he struck a victim fell + At the feet of that shape of wrath. + + "'Fore God," quoth the Dauphin, "that unknown sword + Is making a merry day!" + But where, oh where is the Savoyard, + For low in the slime of that trampled sward + Lie the flower of the Dauphinée! + + And the victor stranger rideth alone, + Wiping his bloody blade; + And now that to meet him there is none. + Now that the warrior work is done, + He moveth toward the maid. + + Sternly, as if he came to kill, + Toward the damsel he turneth his rein; + His trumpet sounding a challenge shrill, + While the fatal lists of La Sône are still + As he paces the purple plain. + +{338} + + A hollow voice through the visor cried, + "Mount to the crupper with me. + Mount, Ladye, mount to thy master's side. + For 'tis said and 'tis sworn thou shalt be the Bride + Of the victor, whoever he be." + + At sound of that voice a sudden flame + Shot out from the Dauphin's eyes, + And he said, "Sir Knight, ere we grant thy claim, + Let us see the face, let us hear the name, + Of the gallant who winneth the prize." + + "'Tis a name you know and a face you fear," + The Wizard Knight began; + "Or hast thou forgotten that midnight drear, + When my sleeping fathers felt the spear + Of Vienne and Miolan? + + "Ay, quiver and quail in thy coat of mail, + For hark to the eagle's shriek; + See the red light burns for the coming bale!" + And all knew as he lifted his aventayle + The Knight of Pilate's Peak. + + From the heart of the mass rose a cry of wrath + As they sprang at the shape abhorred, + But he swept the foremost from his path, + And the rest fell back from the fatal swath + Of that darkly dripping sword. + + But uprose the Dauphin brave and bold, + And strode out upon the green, + And quoth he, "Foul fiend, if my purpose hold, + By my halidome, tho' I be passing old, + We'll splinter a lance for Christine. + + "Since her lovers are low or recreant. + Her champion shall be her sire; + So get a fresh lance from yonder tent. + For though my vigor be something spent + I fear neither thee nor thy fire!" + + Swift to the stirrup the Dauphin he sprang, + The bravest and best of his race: + No bugle blast for the combat rang; + Save the clattering hoof and the armor clang, + All was still as each rode to his place. + +{339} + + With the crash of an April avalanche + They meet in that merciless tilt; + Back went each steed with shivering haunch. + Back to the croup bent each rider staunch. + Shivered each spear to the hilt. + + Thrice flies the Baron's battle-axe round + The Wizard's sable crest; + But the coal-black steed, with a sudden bound, + Hurled the old Crusader to the ground, + And stamped on his mailed breast. + + Thrice by the vengeful war-horse spurned, + Lowly the Dauphin lies; + While the Black Knight laughed as again he turned + Toward the lost Christine, and his visor burned + As he gazed at his beautiful prize. + + Her doom you might read in that gloating stare, + But no fear in the maid can you see; + Nor is it the calm of a dumb despair, + For hope sits aglow on her forehead fair. + And she murmurs, "At last--it is he!" + + Proudly the maiden hath sprung from her seat, + Proudly she glanceth around, + One hand on her bosom to stay its beat, + For hark! there's a sound like the flying feet + Of a courser, bound after bound. + + Clearing the lists with a leopard-like spring, + Plunging at top of his speed. + Swift o'er the ground as a bird on the wing. + There bursts, all afoam, through the wondering ring, + A gallant but riderless steed. + + Arrow-like straight to the maiden he sped. + With a long, loud, tremulous neigh, + The rein flying loose round his glorious head. + While all whisper again, "Is the Savoyard dead?" + As they gaze at the riderless Grey. + + One sharp, swift pang thro' the virgin heart, + One wildering cry of woe. + Then fleeter than dove to her calling nest, + Lighter than chamois to Malaval's crest + She leaps to the saddle bow. + +{340} + + "Away!" He knew the sweet voice; away, + With never a look behind; + Away, away, with echoing neigh + And streaming mane, goes the gallant Grey, + Like an eagle before the wind. + + They have cleared the lists, they have passed her bower, + And still they are thundering on; + They are over the bridge--another hour, + A league behind them the Leaning Tower + And the spires of Saint Antoine. + + Away, away in their wild career + Past the slopes of Mont Surjeu; + Thrice have they swum the swift Isère, + And firm and clear in the purple air + Soars the Grand Som full in view. + + Rough is their path and sternly steep, + Yet halting never a whit, + Onward the terrible pace they keep, + While the good Grey, breathing free and deep, + Steadily strains at the bit. + + They have left the lands where the tall hemp springs, + Where the clover bends to the bee; + They have left the hills where the red vine flings + Her clustered curls of a thousand rings + Round the arms of the mulberry tree. + + They have left the lands where the walnut lines + The roads, and the chestnuts blow; + Beneath them the thread of the cataract shines, + Around them the plumes of the warrior pines. + Above them the rock and the snow. + + Thick on his shoulders the foam flakes lay. + Fast the big drops roll from his chest, + Yet on, ever on, goes the gallant Grey, + Bearing the maiden as smoothly as spray + Asleep on the ocean's breast. + + Onward and upward, bound after bound, + By Bruno's Bridge he goes; + And now they are treading holy ground, + For the feet of her flying Caliph sound + By the cells of the Grand Chartreuse. + +{341} + + Around them the darkling cloisters frown, + The sun in the valley hath sunk; + When right in her path, lo! the long white gown, + The withered face and the shaven crown + And the shrivelled hand of a monk. + + A light like a glittering halo played + Round the brow of the holy man; + With lifted finger her course he stayed, + "All is not well," the pale lips said, + "With the heir of Miolan. + + "But in Chambery hangs a relic rare + Over the altar stone: + Take it, and speed to thy Bridegroom's bier; + If the Sacristan question who sent thee there, + Say, 'Bruno, the Monk of Cologne.'" + + She bent to the mane while the cross he signed + Thrice o'er the suppliant head: + "Away with thee, child!" and away like the wind + She went, with a startled glance behind, + For she heard an ominous tread. + + The moon is up, 'tis a glorious night, + They are leaving the rock and the snow, + Mont Blanc is before her, phantom white, + While the swift Isère, with its line of light, + Cleaves the heart of the valley below. + + But hark to the challenge, "Who rideth alone?"-- + "O warder, bid me not wait!-- + My lover lies dead and the Dauphin o'erthrown-- + A message I bear from the Monk of Cologne"-- + And she swept thro' Chambery's gate. + + The Sacristan kneeleth in midnight prayer + By Chamber's altar stone. + "What meaneth this haste, my daughter fair?" + She stooped and murmured in his ear + The name of the Monk of Cologne. + + Slowly he took from its jewelled case + A kerchief that sparkled like snow. + And the Minster shone like a lighted vase + As the deacon unveiled the gleaming face + Of the Santo Sudario. + +{342} + + A prayer, a tear, and to saddle she springs, + Clasping the relic bright; + Away, away, for the fell hoof rings + Down the hillside behind her--God give her wings! + The fiend and his horse are in sight. + + On, on, the gorge of the Doriat's won, + She is nearing her Savoyard's home, + By the grand old road where the warrior son + Of Hanno swept with his legions dun, + On his mission of hatred to Rome. + + The ancient oaks seem to rock and reel + As the forest rushes by her, + But nearer cometh the clash of steel, + And nearer falleth the fatal heel, + With its flickering trail of fire. + + Then first the brave young heart grew sick + 'Neath its load of love and fear, + For the Grey is breathing faint and quick, + And his nostrils burn and the drops fall thick + From the point of each drooping ear. + + His glorious neck hath lost its pride, + His back fails beneath her weight. + While steadily gaining, stride by stride, + The Black Knight thunders to her side-- + Heaven, must she meet her fate? + + She shook the loose rein o'er the trembling head, + She laid her soft hand on his mane, + She called him her Caliph, her desert-bred, + She named the sweet springs where the palm trees spread + Their arms o'er the burning plain. + + But the Grey looked back and sadly scanned + The maid with his earnest eyes-- + A moment more and her cheek is fanned + By the black steed's breath, and the demon hand + Stretches out for the virgin prize. + + But she calls on Christ, and the kerchief white + Waves full in the face of her foe: + Back with an oath reeled the Wizard Knight + As his steed crouched low in the wondrous light + Of the Santo Sudario. + +{343} + + Blinded they halt while the maiden hies, + The murmuring Arc she can hear, + And, lo! like a cloud on the shining skies, + Atop of yon perilous precipice, + The castle of Miolan's Heir. + + "Fail not, my steed!"--Round her Caliph's head + The relic shines like the sun: + Leap after leap up the spiral steep, + He speeds to his master's castle keep, + And his glorious race is won. + + "Ho, warder!"--At sight of the gallant Grey + The drawbridge thundering falls: + Wide goes the gate at that jubilant neigh, + And, glory to God for his mercy to-day, + She is safe within Miolan's walls. + + +THE FIFTH SONG. + +I. + + In the dim grey dawn by Miolan's gate + The fiend on his wizard war-horse sate. + The fair-haired maid at his trumpet call + Creeps weeping and wan to the outer wall: + "My curse on thy venom, my curse on thy spell, + They have slain the master I loved too well. + Thou saidst he should wake when the joust was o'er, + But oh, he never will waken more!" + She tore her fair hair, while the demon laughed, + Saying, "Sound was the sleep that thy lover quaffed; + But bid the warder unbar the gate, + That the lost Christine may meet her fate." + + +II. + + "Hither, hither thou mailèd man + With those woman's tears in thine eyes, + With thy brawny cheek all wet and wan, + Show me the heir of Miolan, + Lead where my Bridegroom lies." + +{344} + + And he led her on with a sullen tread. + That fell like a muffled groan, + Through halls as silent as the dead, + 'Neath long grey arches overhead, + Till they came to the shrine of Moan. + + What greets her there by the torches' glare? + In vain hath the mass been said! + Low bends the sire in mute despair, + Low kneels the Hermit in silent prayer. + Between them the mighty dead. + + No tear she shed, no word she spoke, + But gliding up to the bier, + She took her stand by the bed of oak + Where her Savoyard lay in his sable cloak, + His hand still fast on his spear. + + She bent her burning cheek to his, + And rested it there awhile. + Then touched his lips with a lingering kiss, + And whispered him thrice, "My love, arise, + I have come for thee many a mile!" + + The man of God and the ancient Knight + Arose in tremulous awe; + She was so beautiful, so bright, + So spirit-like in her bridal white, + It seemed in the dim funereal light + Twas an angel that they saw. + + "Thro' forest fell, o'er mount and dell, + Like the falcon, hither I've flown. + For I knew that a fiend was loose from hell, + And I bear a token to break this spell + From Bruno, the Monk of Cologne. + + "Dost thou know it, love? when fire and sword + Flamed round the Holy Shrine, + It was won by thee from the Paynim horde, + It was brought by thee to Bruno's guard, + A gift from Palestine. + + "Wake, wake, my love! In the name of Grace, + That hath known our uttermost woe, + Lo! this thorn-bound brow on thine I place!" + And, once more revealed, shone the wondrous face + Of the Santo Sudario. + +{345} + + At once over all that ancient hall + There went a luminous beam; + Heaven's deepest radiance seemed to fall, + The helmets shine on the shining wall, + And the faded banners gleam. + + And the chime of hidden cymbals rings + To the song of a cherub choir; + Each altar angel waves his wings, + And the flame of each altar taper springs + Aloft in a luminous spire. + + And over the face of the youth there broke + A smile both stern and sweet; + Slowly he turned on the bed of oak, + And proudly folding his sable cloak + Around him, sprang to his feet. + + Back shrank the sire, half terrified, + Both he and the Hermit, I ween; + But she--she is fast to her Savoyard's side, + A poet's dream, a warrior's bride, + His beautiful Christine. + + Her hair's dark tangles all astray + Adown her back and breast; + The print of the rein on her hand still lay. + The foam-flakes of the gallant Grey + Scarce dry on her heaving breast. + + She told the dark tale and how she spurred + From the Knight of Pilate's Peak; + You scarce would think the Bridegroom heard. + Save that the mighty lance-head stirred. + Save for the flush in his cheek; + + Save that his gauntlet clasped her hair-- + And oh, the look that swept + Between them!--all the radiant air + Grew holier--it was like a prayer-- + And they who saw it wept. + + E'en the lights on the altar brighter grew + In the gleam of that heavenly gaze; + The cherub music fell soft as dew, + The breath of the censer seemed sweeter too. + The torches mellowed their requiem hue, + And burnt with a bridal blaze. + +{346} + + And the Baron clasps his son with a cry + Of joy as his sorrows cease; + While the Hermit, wrapt in his Rosary, + Feels that the world beneath the sky + Hath yet its planet of peace. + + But hark! by the drawbridge, shrill and clear, + A trumpet's challenge rude: + The heart of Christine grew faint with fear, + But the Savoyard shook his mighty spear, + And the blood in his forehead stood. + + "Beware, beware, 'tis the Fiend!" quoth she: + "Whither now!" asks the ancient Knight, + "What meanest thou, boy?--Leave the knave to me: + Wizard, or fiend, or whatever he be, + By the bones of my fathers, he shall flee + Or ne'er look on morning light. + + "What, thou just risen from the grave, + Atilt with an armèd man? + Dost dream that youth alone is brave, + Dost deem these sinews too old to save + The honor of Miolan?" + + But the youth he answered with gentlest tone, + "I know thee a warrior staunch. + But this meeting is meant for me alone. + Unhand me, my lord, have I woman grown? + Wouldst stop the rushing of the Rhone, + Or stay the avalanche?" + + He broke from his sire as breaks the flash + From the soul of the circling storm: + You could hear the grasp of his gauntlet crash + On his quivering lance and the armor clash + Round that tall young warrior form. + + "Be this thy shield?" the maiden cried, + Her hand on the kerchief of snow; + "If forth to the combat thou wilt ride, + Face to face be the Fiend defied + With the Santo Sudario!" + + But the young Knight laid the relic rare + On the ancient altar-stone; + "Holy weapons to men of prayer. + Lance in rest and falchion bare + Must answer for Miolan's son." + +{347} + + Again the challenger's trumpet pealed + From the barbican, shrill and clear; + And the Savoyard reared his dinted shield, + Its motto, gold on an azure field-- + "ALLES ZU GOTT UND IHR." + + To horse!--From the hills the dawning day + Looks down on the sleeping plain; + In the court-yard waiteth the gallant Grey, + And the castle rings with a joyous neigh + As the Knight and his steed meet again. + + And the coal-black charger answers him + From the space beyond the gate, + From the level space, where dark and dim + In the morning mists, like giant grim, + The Fiend on his war-horse sate. + + Oh, the men at arms how they stared aghast + When the Heir of Miolan leapt + To saddle-bow sounding his bugle-blast; + How the startled warder breathless gasped. + How the hoary old seneschal wept! + + And the fair-haired maid with a sob hath sprung + To the lifted bridle rein; + Fast to his knee her white arms clung, + While the waving gold of her fair hair hung + Mixed with Grey Caliph's mane. + + "O Miolan's heir, O master mine, + O more than heaven adored, + Live to forget this slave of thine, + Wed the dark-eyed Maid of Palestine, + But dare not yon demon sword!" + + But the Baron thundered, "Off with the slave!" + And they tore the white arms away, + "A woman 's a curse in the path of the brave; + Level thy lance and upon the knave, + For he laughs at this fool delay! + + "But pledge me first in this beaker bright + Of foaming Cyprian wine; + Thou hast fasted, God wot, like an anchorite. + Thy cheeks and brow are a trifle white, + And, 'fore heaven, thou shall bear thee in this fight + As beseemeth son of mine!" + +{348} + + The youth drank deep of the burning juice + Of the mighty Marètel, + Then, waving his hand to his Ladye thrice, + Swifter than snow from the precipice, + Spurred full on the infidel. + + "O Bridegroom bold, beware my brand!" + The Knight of Pilate cries, + "For 'tis written in blood by Eblis' hand, + No mortal might may mine withstand + Till the dead in arms arise." + + "The dead are up, and in arms arrayed, + They have come at the call of fate: + Two days, two nights, as thou know'st, I've laid + On oaken bier"--and again there played + That halo light round the Mother Maid + In the niche by the castle gate. + + Each warrior reared his shining targe, + Each plumed helmet bent. + Each lance thrown forward for the charge, + Each steed reined back to the very marge + Of the mountain's sheer descent. + + The rock beneath them seemed to groan + And shudder as they met; + Away the splintered lance is thrown, + Each falchion in the morning shone, + One blade uncrimsoned yet + + But the blood must flow and that blade must glow + E'er their deadly work be done; + Steel rang to steel, blow answered blow, + From dappled dawn till the Alpine snow + Grew red in the risen sun. + + The Bridegroom's sword left a lurid trail, + So fiercely and fleetly it flew; + It rang like the rattling of the hail, + And wherever it fell the sable mail + Was wet with a ghastly dew. + + The Baron, watching with stern delight, + Felt the heart in his bosom swell: + And quoth he, "By the mass, a gallant sight! + These old eyes have gazed on many a fight, + But, boy, as I live, never saw I knight + Who did his devoir so well!" + +{349} + + And oh, the flush o'er his face that broke, + The joy of his shining eyes, + When, backward beaten, stroke by stroke, + The wizard reeled, like a falling oak, + Toward the edge of the precipice. + + On the trembling verge of that perilous steep + The demon stood at bay. + Calling with challenge stern and deep, + That startled the inmost castle keep, + "Daughter of mine, here's a dainty leap + We must take together to-day. + + "Come, maiden, come!" Swift circling round, + Like bird in the serpent's gaze, + She sprang to his side with a single bound. + While the black steed trampled the flinty ground + To fire, his nostrils ablaze. + + "Farewell!" went the fair-haired maiden's cry, + Shrilling from hill to hill; + "Farewell, farewell, it was I, 'twas I, + Who sinned in a jealous agony, + But I loved thee too well to kill!" + + High reared the steed with the hapless pair, + A plunge, a pause, a shriek, + A black plume loose in the middle air, + A foaming plash in the dark Isére,-- + Thus banished for ever the maiden fair + And the Knight of Pilate's Peak. + + A mighty cheer shook the ancient halls, + A white hand waved in the sun, + The vassals all on the outer wall + Clashed their arms at the brave old Baron's call, + "To my arms, mine only one!" + + But oh, what aileth the gallant Grey, + Why droopeth the barbèd head? + Slowly he turned from that fell tourney + And proudly breathing a long, last neigh, + At the castle gate fell dead. + + +III. + + Lost to all else, forgotten e'en + The dark eyes of his dear Christine, + His fleet foot from the stirrup freed, + The Knight knelt by his fallen steed. + +{350} + + Awhile with tone and touch of love + To cheer him to his feet he strove: + Awhile he shook the bridle-rein-- + That glazing eye!--alas, in vain. + Bareheaded on that fatal field. + His gauntlet ringing on his shield, + His voice a torrent deep and strong, + The warrior's soul broke forth in song. + + +THE KNIGHT'S SONG + + And art thou, _art_ thou dead,-- + Thou with front that might defy + The gathered thunders of the sky. + Thou before whose fearless eye + All death and danger fled! + + My Khalif, hast thou sped + Homeward where the palm-trees' feet + Bathe in hidden fountains sweet, + Where first we met as lovers meet, + My own, my desert-bred! + + Thy back has been my home; + And, bending o'er thy flying neck, + Its white mane waving without speck, + I seemed to tread the galley's deck. + And cleave the ocean's foam. + + Since first I felt thy heart + Proudly surging 'neath my knee, + As earthquakes heave beneath the sea, + Brothers in the field were we; + And must we, _can_ we part? + + To match thee there was none! + The wind was laggard to thy speed: + O God, there is no deeper need + Than warrior's parted from his steed + When years have made them one. + + And shall I never more + Answer thy laugh amid the clash + Of battle, see thee meet the flash + Of spears with the proud, pauseless dash + Of billows on the shore? + +{351} + + And all our victor war, + And all the honors men call mine, + Were thine, thou voiceless warrior, thine; + My task was but to touch the rein-- + There needed nothing more. + + Worst danger had no sting + For thee, and coward peace no charm; + Amid red havoc's worst alarm + Thy swoop as firm as through the storm + The eagle's iron wing. + + O more than man to me! + Thy neigh outsoared the trumpet's tone. + Thy back was better than a throne, + There was no human thing save one + I loved as well as thee! + + O Knighthood's truest friend! + Brave heart by every danger tried, + Proud crest by conquest glorified. + Swift saviour of my menaced Bride, + Is this, is _this_ the end?-- + + Thrice honored be thy grave! + Wherever knightly deed is sung. + Wherever minstrel harp is strung, + There too thy praise shall sound among + The beauteous and the brave. + + And thou shalt slumber deep + Beneath our chapel's cypress sheen; + And there thy lord and his Christine + Full oft shall watch at morn and e'en + Around their Khalif's sleep. + + There shalt thou wait for me + Until the funeral bell shall ring. + Until the funeral censer swing. + For I would ride to meet my King, + My stainless steed, with thee! + +---- + + The song has ceased, and not an eye + 'Mid all those mailed men is dry; + The brave old Baron turns aside + To crush the tear he cannot hide. + +{352} + + With stately step the Bridegroom went + To where, upon the battlement, + Christine herself, all weeping, leant. + Well might that crested warrior kneel + At such a shrine, well might he feel + As if the angel in her eyes + Gave all that hallows Paradise. + And when her white hands' tender spell + Upon his trembling shoulder fell. + Upward one reverent glance he cast, + Then, rising, murmured, "Mine at last!" + + "Yes, thine at last!" Still stained with blood + The Dauphin's self beside them stood. + "Fast as mortal steed could flee, + My own Christine, I followed thee. + Saint George, but 'twas a gallant sight + That miscreant hurled from yonder height: + Brave boy, that single sword of thine, + Methinks, might hold all Palestine. + But see, from out the shrine of Moan + Cometh the good Monk of Cologne, + Bearing the relic rare that woke + Our warrior from his bed of oak. + See him pass with folded hands + To where the shaded chapel stands. + The Bridegroom well hath won the prize, + There stands the priest, and there the altar lies." + + +IV. + + When the moon rose o'er lordly Miolan + That night, she wondered at those ancient walls: + Bright tapers flashing from a hundred halls + Lit all the mountain--liveried vassals ran + Trailing from bower to bower the wine-cup, wreathed + With festal roses--viewless music breathed + A minstrel melody, that fell as falls + The dew, less heard than felt; and maidens laughed. + Aiming their curls at swarthy men who quaffed + Brimmed beakers to the newly wed: while some + Old henchmen, lolling on the court-yard green + Over their squandered Cyprus, vowed between + Their cups, "there was no pair in Christendom + To match their Savoyard and his Christine?" + +---- + +{353} + + The Trovère ceased, none praised the lay, + Each waited to hear what the King would say. + But the grand blue eye was on the wave, + Little recked he of the tuneless stave: + He was watching a bark just anchored fast + With England's banner at her mast, + And quoth he to the Queen, "By my halidome, + I wager our Bard Blondel hath come!" + E'en as he spoke, a joyous cry + From the beach proclaimed the Master nigh; + But the merry cheer rose merrier yet + When the Monarch and his Minstrel met. + The Prince of Song and Plantagenet. + "A song!" cried the King. "Thou art just in time + To rid our ears of a vagrant's rhyme: + Prove how that recreant voice of thine + Hath thriven at Cyprus, bard of mine!" + The Minstrel played with his golden wrest, + And began the "_Fytte of the Bloody Vest_." + The vanquished Trovère stole away + Unmarked by lord or ladye gay: + Perchance one quick, kind glance he caught, + Perchance that glance was all he sought. + For when Blondel would pause to tune + His harp and supplicate the moon, + It seemed as tho' the laughing sea + Caught up the vagrant melody; + And far along the listening shore. + Till every wave the burthen bore, + In long, low echoes might you hear-- + "Alles, Alles zu Gott und Ihr!" + +------ + +{354} + + +From The Dublin Review. + +THE CHRISTIAN SCHOOLS OF ALEXANDRIA.--ORIGEN. + + +_Origenis Opera Omnia_, Ed. De la Rue, accurante J. P. Migne. +Parisiis. _S. Gregorii Thaumaturgi_, Oratio Panegyrica in Origenem +(Opera Omnia), accurante J. P. Migne. Parisiis. + +Last July we commenced a sketch of the history and labors of Origen. +We resume our notes on those twenty years (211-280) which he spent +with little interruption at Alexandria, engaged chiefly in the +instruction of the catechumens. We have already seen what he did for +the New Testament; let us now study his labors on the Old. + +The authorship of that most famous Greek version of the Old Testament, +the Septuagint, seems destined to be a mystery in literature. The +gorgeous and circumstantial account of the Jew Aristeas, with all its +details of embassy and counter-embassy, of the seventy-two venerable +sages, the cells in the rock, the reverence of the Ptolemy, and the +wind-up of banquets, gifts, and all good things, seems, as Dom +Montfaucon says, to "savor of the fabulous." There is some little +difficulty about dates in the matter of Demetrius Phalerius, the +literary minister under whose auspices the event is placed. There is a +far more formidable difficulty in the elevation of Philadelphus, a +cruel, sensual despot, into a devout admirer of the law of Moses, +bowing seven times and weeping for joy in presence of the sacred +documents, and in the sudden conversion of all the cultivated Greeks +who are concerned in the story. The part of Aristeas's narration which +regards the separate cells, and the wonderful agreement of the +translations, is curtly set down by St. Jerome as a fiction. It seems +probable, moreover, that the translator of the Pentateuch was not the +same as the translate of the other parts of the Old Testament. In the +midst of uncertainties and probabilities, however, four things seem to +be tolerably clear; first, that the version called the LXX. was made +at Alexandria; secondly, that it was the work of different authors; +thirdly, that it was not inspired; fourthly, that it was a holy and +correct version, quoted by the apostles, always used in the Greek +church, and the basis of all the Latin editions before St Jerome's +Vulgate. + +All the misfortunes that continual transcription, careless blundering, +and wilful corruption could combine to inflict upon a manuscript had +fallen to the lot of the Septuagint version at the time when it was +handed Origen to be used in the instruction of the faithful and the +refutation of Jew and Greek. This was only what might have been fully +expected from the fact that, since the Christian era, it had become +the court of appeal of two rival sets of controversialists--the +Christian and the Jew. Indeed, from the very beginning it had been +defective, and, if we may trust St. Jerome, designedly defective; for +the Septuagint translation of the prophetical books had purposely +omitted {355} passages of the Hebrew which its authors considered not +proper to be submitted to the sight of profane Greeks and Gentiles. Up +to the Christian era, however, we may suppose great discrepancies of +manuscript did not exist, and that those variations which did appear +were not much heeded in the comparatively rare transcription of the +text. The Hellenistic Jews and the Jews of Palestine used the LXX. in +the synagogues instead of the Hebrew. A few libraries of great cities +had copies, and a few learned Greeks had some idea of their existence. +Beyond this there was nothing to make its correctness of more +importance than that of a liturgy or psalm-book. But, soon after the +Christian era, its character and importance were completely changed. +The eunuch was reading the Septuagint version when Philip, by divine +inspiration, came up with him and showed him that the words he was +reading were verified in Jesus. This was prophetic of what was to +follow. The Christians used it to prove the divine mission of Jesus +Christ; the Jews made the most of it to confute the same. Thereupon, +somewhat suspiciously, there arose among the Jews a disposition to +underrate the LXX., and make much of the Hebrew original. Hebrew was +but little known, whereas all the intellectual commerce of the world +was carried on by means of that Hellenistic Greek which had been +diffused through the East by the conquests of Alexander. If, +therefore, the Jews could bar all appeals to the well-known Greek, and +remove the controversy to the inner courts of their own temple, the +decision, it might be expected, would not improbably turn out to be in +their own favor. Just before Origen's own time more than one Jew or +Judaizing heretic had attempted to produce Greek versions which should +supersede the Septuagint. Some ninety years before the period of which +we write, Aquila, a Jewish proselyte of Sinope, had issued what +professed to be a literal translation from the Hebrew. It was so +uncompromisingly literal that the reader sometimes found the Hebrew +word or phrase imported bodily into the Greek, with only the slight +alteration of new characters and a fresh ending. Its purpose was not +disavowed. It was to furnish the Greek-speaking Jews with a more exact +translation from the Hebrew, in order to fortify them in their +opposition to Christianity. Some five years later, Theodotion, an +Ebionite of Ephesus, made another version of the Septuagint; he did +not profess to re-translate it, but only to correct it where it +differed from the Hebrew. A little later, and yet another Ebionite +tried his hand on the Alexandrian version; this was Symmachus. His +translation was more readable than that of Aquila, as not being so +utterly barbarous in expression; but it was far from being elegant, or +even correct, Greek. + +Of course Origen could never dream of substituting any of these +translations for the Septuagint, stamped as it was with the +approbation of the whole Eastern church. But still they might be made +very useful; indeed, notwithstanding the original sin of motive to +which they owed their existence, we have the authority of St. Jerome, +and of Origen himself, for saying that even the barbarous Aquila had +understood his work and executed it more fairly than might have been +expected. What Origen wanted was to get a pure Greek version. To do +this he must, of course, compare it with the Hebrew; but the Hebrew +itself might be corrupt, so he must seek help also elsewhere. Now +these Greek versions, made sixty, eighty, ninety years before, had +undoubtedly, he could see, been written with the Septuagint open +before their writers. Here, then, was a valuable means of testing how +far the present manuscripts of the Septuagint had been corrupted +during the last century at {356} least. He himself had collected some +such manuscripts, and the duties of his office made him acquainted +with many more. From the commencement of his career he had been +accustomed to compare and criticise them, and he had grown skilful, as +may be supposed, in distinguishing the valuable ones from those that +were worthless. We have said sufficient to show how the idea of the +"Hexapla" arose in his mind. The Hexapla was nothing less than a +complete transcription of the Septuagint side by side with the Hebrew +text, the agreement and divergence of the two illustrated by the +parallel transcription of the versions of Aquila, Theodotion, and +Symmachus; the remaining column containing the Hebrew text in Greek +letters. The whole of the Old Testament was thus transcribed sixfold +in parallel columns. These extra illustrations were furnished by the +partial use of three other Greek versions which Origen found or picked +up in his travels, and which he considered of sufficient importance to +be occasionally used in his great work. And Origen was not content +with the mere juxtaposition of the versions. The text of the +Septuagint given in the Hexapla was his own; that is to say, it was an +edition of the great authoritative translation completely revised and +corrected by the master himself. It was a great and a daring work. Of +its necessity there can be no doubt; but nothing except necessity +could have justified it; and it is certainly to the bold and +unprecedented character of the enterprise that we owe the shape that +he has given it in performance. To correct the Septuagint to his own +satisfaction was not enough; it must be corrected to the satisfaction +of jealous friends and, at least, reasonable enemies. Side by side, +therefore, with his amended text he gave the reasons and the proofs of +his corrections. He was scrupulously exact in pointing out where he +had altered by addition or subtraction. The Alexandrian critics had +invented a number of critical marks of varied shape and value, which +they industriously used on the works about which they exercised their +propensity to criticise. Origen, "Aristarchus sacer," as an admiring +author calls him, did not hesitate to avail himself of these profane +_notae_. There was the "asterisk," or star, which marked what he +himself had thought it proper to insert, and which, therefore, the +original authors of the Septuagint had apparently thought it proper to +leave out. Then there was the "obelus," or spit, the sign of +slaughter, as St. Jerome calls it; passages so marked were not in the +original Hebrew, and were thereby set down as doubtful and suspected +by sound criticism. Moreover, there was the "lemniscus," or pendent +ribbon, and its supplement, the "hypo-lemniscus;" what these marks +signified the learned cannot agree in stating. It seems certain, +however, that they were not of such a decided import as the first two, +but implied some minor degree of divergence from the Hebrew, as for +instance in those passages where the translators had given an elegant +periphrasis instead of the original word, or had volunteered an +explanation which a critic would have preferred to have had in the +margin. The "asterisk" and "obelus" still continue to figure in those +scraps of Origen's work that have come down to us; so, indeed, does +the lemniscus; but since the times of St. Epiphanius and St. Jerome no +MS. seems to make much distinction between it and the "asterisk." Of +the other marks, contractions, signs, and references which the MSS. of +Hexapla show, the greater part have been added by transcribers who had +various purposes in view. Some of these marks are easy to interpret, +others continue to exercise the acumen of the keenest critics. + +The Hexapla, as may be easily supposed, was a gigantic work. The labor +of writing out the whole of the {357} Old Testament six times over, +not to mention those parts which were written seven, eight, or nine +times, was prodigious. First came the Hebrew text twice over, in +Hebrew characters in the first column, in Greek in the second. +Biblical scholars sigh to think of the utter loss of Origen's Hebrew +text, and of what would now be the state of textual criticism of the +Old Testament did we possess such a Hebrew version of a date anterior +to Masoretic additions. But among the scattered relics of the Hexapla +the Hebrew fragments are at once fewest in number and most disputable +in character. The two columns of Hebrew were followed by Aquila the +stiff, and be by Symmachus, so that the Jews could read their Hebrew +and their two favorite translations side by side. Next came the +Septuagint itself, pointed, marked, and noted by the master. +Theodotion closed the array, except where portions of the three extra +translations before mentioned had to be brought in. Beside these +formidable columns, which may be called the text of the Hexapla, space +had to be found for Origen's own marginal notes, consisting of +critical observations and explanations of proper names or difficult +words, with perhaps an occasional glance at the Syriac and Samaritan. +Fifty enormous _volumina_ would hardly have contained all this, when +we take into consideration that the characters were in no tiny Italian +hand, but in great broad uncial penmanship, such as befitted the text +and the occasion. The poverty and unprovidedness of Origen would never +have been able to carry such a work through had not that very poverty +brought him the command of money and means. It is always the detached +men who accomplish the really great things of the world. Origen had +converted from some form of heresy, probably from Valentinianism, a +rich Alexandrian named Ambrose. The convert was one of those zealous +and earnest men who, without possessing great powers themselves, are +always urging on and offering to assist those who have the right and +the ability to work, but perhaps not the means or the inclination. The +adamantine Origen required no one to keep him to his work; and yet the +grateful Ambrose thought he could make no better return for the gift +of the faith than to establish himself as prompter-in-chief to the man +that had converted him. He seems to have left his master very little +peace. He put all his wealth at his service, and it would appear that +he even forced him to lodge with him. He was continually urging Origen +to explain some passage of Scripture, or to rectify some doubtful +reading. During supper he had manuscripts on the table, and the two +criticised while they ate; and the same thing went on in their walks +and recreations. He sat beside him far into the night, prayed with him +when he left his books for prayer, and after prayer went back with him +to his books again. When the master looked round in his catechetical +lectures, doubtless the indefatigable Ambrose was there, note-book in +hand, and doubtless everything pertaining to the lectures was rigidly +discussed when they found themselves together again; for Ambrose was a +deacon of the church, and as such had great interest in its external +ministration. Origen calls him his [Greek text], or _work-presser_. +and in another place he says he is one of God's work-pressers. There +is little doubt that the Hexapla is in great measure owing to Ambrose. +Origen resisted long his friend's solicitations to undertake a +revision of the text; reverence for the sacred words, and for the +tradition of the ancients, held him back; but he was at length +prevailed upon. Ambrose, indeed, did a great deal more than advise and +exhort; he put at Origen's disposal seven short-hand writers, to take +down his dictations, and seven transcribers to write out fairly what +the others had taken down. And so the gigantic work was begun. When it +was finished we cannot exactly tell, but it cannot have been till near +the end of {358} his life, and it was probably completed at Tyre, just +before he suffered for the faith. After his death, the great work, +"opus Ecclesia," as it was termed, was placed in the library of +Caesarea of Palestine. Probably no copy of it was ever taken; the +labor was too great. It was seen, or at least quoted, by many; such as +Pamphylus the Martyr, Eusebius, St. Athanasius, Didymus, St. Hilary, +St. Eusebius of Vercelli, St. Epiphanius, St. Basil, St. Gregory +Nyssen, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, and especially St. Jerome and +Theodoret. It perished in the sack of Caesarea by the Persians or the +Arabs, before the end of the seventh century. [Footnote 54] + + [Footnote 54: A new edition of the fragments of the Hexapla is + announced, at we write, by Mr. Field, of Norwich. The first + instalment of this important work, for which there are now many more + materials than Dom Montfaucon had at command, may be expected almost + as we go to press. The editor's new sources are chiefly the recently + discovered Sinaitic MSS., and the Syro-Hexaplar version, part of + which he has lately re-translated into Greek in a very able manner, + by way of a specimen.] + +We need not say much here about the Tetrapla. Its origin appears to +have been as follows: When the Hexapla was completed, or nearly +completed, it was evident that it was too bulky to be copied. Origen, +therefore, superintended the production of an abridgment of it. He +omitted the two columns of Hebrew, the great stumbling-block to +copyists, and suppressed some of his notes. He then transcribed +Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotion, putting his amended version of the +Septuagint, without the marks and signs, just before the last. The two +first answered the purposes of a Hebrew text, the last was a sort of +connecting link between it and the freedom of the Septuagint; and so, +for all practical purposes, he had a version that friends might put +their trust in, and that enemies could not dispute. + +Such was the work that Origen did for the Bible. It was not all done +at once, in a year, or in ten years. It was begun almost without a +distinct conception of what it would one day grow to. It progressed +gradually, in the midst of many cares and much other labor, and it was +barely completed when its architect's busy life was drawing to a +close. Every one of those twenty years at Alexandria, which we are now +dwelling upon, must have seen the work going on. The seven short-hand +writers, and the seven young maidens who copied out, were Origen's +daily attendants, as he seems to say himself. But the catechetical +school was in full vigor all this time. Indeed, the critical fixing of +the Bible text, wonderful as it was, was only the material part of his +work. He had to preach the Bible, not merely to write it out. His +preaching will take us to a new scene and to new circumstances--to +Caesarea, where the greater part of his homilies were delivered. But, +before we accompany him thither, we must take a glance at his school +at Alexandria, and try to realize how he spoke and taught. We have +already described his manner of life, and the description of his +biblical labors will have given some idea of a very important part of +his daily work; what we have now to do is to supplement this by the +picture of him as the head of the great catechetical school. + +One of the most striking characteristics of the career of Origen is +the way in which his work grew upon him. It is, indeed, a feature in +the lives of all the great geniuses who have served the church and +lived in her fold, that they have achieved greatness by an apparently +unconscious following of the path of duty rather than by any brilliant +excursion under the guidance of ambition. Origen was the very opposite +of a proud philosopher or self-appointed dogmatizer. He did not come +to his task with the consciousness that he was the man of his age, and +that he was born to set right the times. We have seen his birth and +bringing up, we have seen how he found himself in the important place +that he held, and we have seen how all his success {359} seemed to +come to him whilst he was merely bent on carrying through with the +utmost industry the affair that had been placed in his hands. We have +seen that, so far was he from trying to fit the gospel to the +exigencies of a cramped philosophy,--that he was brought up and passed +part of his youth without any special acquaintance with philosophy or +philosophers. He found, however, on resuming his duties as catechist, +that if he wished to do all the good that offered itself to his hand, +he must make himself more intimate with those great minds who, erring +as he knew them to be, yet influenced so much of what was good and +noble in heathenism. At that very time, a movement, perhaps a +resurrection, was taking place in Gentile philosophy. A teacher, +brilliant as Plato himself, and with secrets to develop that Plato had +only dreamt of, was in possession of the lecture-hall of the Museum. +Ammonius Saccas had landed at Alexandria as a common porter; nothing +but uncommon energy and extraordinary talents can have given him a +position in the university and a place in history, as the teacher of +the philosophic Trinity and the real founder of Neo-Platonism. Origen, +to whom the Museum had been strange ground in his early youth, saw +himself compelled to frequent it at the age of thirty. Saccas, to be +sure, was probably a Christian of some sort. At any rate, the +Christian teacher went and heard him, and made himself acquainted with +what it was that was charming the ears of his fellow-citizens, and +furnishing ground for half of the objections and difficulties that his +catechumens and would-be converts brought to him for solution. That +the influence of these studies is seen in his writings is not to be +denied. It would be impossible for any mind but the very dullest to +touch the spirit of Plato and not to be impressed and affected. The +writings of Origen at this period include three philosophical works. +There is first the "Notes on the Philosophers," which is entirely +lost. We may suppose it to have been the common-place book wherein was +entered what he learnt from his teacher, and what he thought of the +teacher and the doctrine. Then there is the "Stromata" (a work of the +same nature as the Stromata of his master, St. Clement), whose leading +idea was the great master-idea of Clement, that Plato and Aristotle +and the rest were all partially right, but had failed to see the whole +truth, which can only be known by revelation. This work, also, is +lost--all but a fragment or two. Thirdly, there is the celebrated +work, [Greek text], or, "De Principiis." Eusebius tells us expressly +that this work was written at Alexandria. Most unfortunately, we have +this treatise not in the original, but in two rival and contradictory +Latin versions, one by St. Jerome, the other by Ruffinus. Both profess +to be faithful renderings of a Greek original, and on the decision as +to which version is the genuine translation depends in great measure +the question of Origen's orthodoxy or heterodoxy. And yet this +treatise, "De Principiis," much as it has been abused, from Marcellus +of Ancyra down to the last French author who copied out Dom Ceillier, +and waiving the discussion of certain particular opinions that we may +have yet to advert to, seems to us to bear the stamp of Origen on +every page. It is such a work as a man would have written who had come +fresh from an exposition of deep heathen philosophy, and who felt, +with feelings too deep for expression, that all the beauty and depth +of the philosophy he had heard were overmatched a thousand times by +the philosophy of Jesus Christ. It is the first specimen, in Christian +literature, of a regular scientific treatise on the _principles_ of +Christianity. Every one knows that a discussion on the principles or +sources of the world, of man, of life, was one of the commonest shapes +of controversy between the {360} schools of philosophy; and at that +very time, the great Longinus, who probably sat beside Origen in the +school of Ammonius Saccas, was writing or thinking out a treatise with +the very title of that of Origen. It was a natural idea, therefore, to +show his scholars that he could give them better _principia_ than the +heathens. The treatise takes no notice, or next to none, of heathen +philosophy and its disputes; but it travels over well-known ground, +and what is more, it provokes comparison in a very significant manner. +For instance, the words wherewith it commences are words which Plato +introduces in the "Gorgias," and to those who knew that elaborate +dialogue, the sudden and unhesitating introduction of the name of +Christ, and the calm position that he and none else is the truth, and +that in him is the science of the good and happy life, must have been +quite as striking as its author probably intended it to be. The +treatise is not in the Platonic form--the dialogue; that form, which +was suitable to the days of the Sophists and the sharp-tongued +Athenians, had been superseded at Alexandria by the ornate monologue, +more suitable to an audience of novices and wonderers. Origen adopts +this form. One God made all things, himself a pure spirit; there is a +Trinity of divine persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; of the +rational creatures of God, some fell irremediably, others fell not at +all; others again--that is, the race of man--fell, but not +irremediably, having a mediator in Jesus Christ, being assisted by the +good angels and persecuted by the bad; the wonderful fact that the +Word was made flesh; man's free will, eternal punishment and eternal +reward; such are the heads of the subjects treated of in the "De +Principiis." The lame and disjointed condition of the present text is +evident on a very cursory examination; it is perfectly unworthy of the +"contra Celsum." But the reader who studies the text carefully, by the +light of contemporary thought, can hardly help thinking that materials +so solid and good must have been put together in a form as +satisfactory and as conclusive. A first attempt in any science is +always more admired for its genius than criticised for its faults. +This of Origen's was a first attempt toward a scientific theology. We +say a theology, not a philosophy; for, though philosophic in form, and +accepted as philosophy by his hearers, it is wholly theological in +matter, being founded on the continual word of Holy Scripture, and not +unfrequently undertaking to refute heresy. Christianity, as we have +before observed, was looked upon by strangers as a philosophy, and its +doctors rightly allowed them to think so, and even called it so +themselves. Now the "De Principiis" was Origen's philosophy of +Christianity. It did not prove so much as draw out into system. It +answered all the questions of the day. What is God? asked the +philosophers. He is the creator of all things, and a pure spirit, +answered the Christian catechist. Is not this Trinity a wonderful +idea? said the young students to each other, after hearing Saccas. +Christianity, said Origen, teaches a Trinity far more awful and +wonderful, and far more reasonable, too--a Trinity, not of ideas, but +of persons. The new school talked of the inferior gods that ruled the +lower world, and of the demons, good and bad, who executed their +behests. The Christian philosopher explained the great fact of +creation, and laid down the true doctrine of guardian angels and +tempting devils. The constitution of man was another puzzle; the +rebellion of the passions, the nature of sin, the question of +free-will. Plotinus, who listened to Saccas at the same time as +Origen, has left us the attempts at the solution of these difficulties +that were accepted in the school of his master; the answers of Origen +may be read in the "De Principiis." The earnest among the heathen +{361} philosophers were totally in the dark as to the state of soul +and of body after death. Some were ashamed of having a body at all, +and few of them could see of what use it was, or how it could subserve +the great end of arriving at union with God. Origen dwells with marked +emphasis, and with tender lingering, on the great key of mysteries, +the incarnation, and its consequences, the resurrection of the flesh; +and shows how the body is to be kept down in this life by the rational +will, that it too may have its glory in the life to come. The whole +effort and striving of Neo-Platonism was to enable the soul to be +united with the Divinity. Origen accepted this; it was the object of +the Christian philosophy as well; but he drew into prominence two +all-important facts--first, the necessity of the grace of God; +secondly, the moral and not physical nature of the purification of the +soul; together with the Christian dogma that it was only after death +that perfect union could take place. All this must have been perfectly +fitted to the time and the occasion. And yet there are evident signs +that it was not delivered or written as a manifesto to the frequenters +of the Museum; it was evidently meant as an instruction to the upper +class of the catechetical school. Its author's first idea was that he +was a Christian teacher, and he spoke to Christians who believed the +Holy Scriptures. What his words might do for others he was not +directly concerned with, but there is no doubt that the subjects +treated of in the "De Principiis" must have been discussed over and +over again with those students and philosophers from the university +who, as Eusebius tells us, flocked to hear him in such numbers, and +also with that large class of Christians who still retained their love +of scientific learning, though believing most firmly in the faith of +Jesus Christ. + +Of the matter of his ordinary catechetical instructions we need say +little, because it is evident that it would be mainly the same as it +has been under the like circumstances in all ages. Those of St. Cyril +of Jerusalem, delivered a century later, may furnish us with a good +idea of them, saving where doctrinal distinctions are discussed which +had not arisen in the time of the elder teacher. It is rather +extra-ordinary that so little trace has reached us of any formal +catechetical discourse of Origen. We are inclined to think, however, +that the "De Principiis," in its _original_ form, must have been the +summary or embodiment of his periodical instructions. But we have +numerous hints at what he taught in the several works on Holy +Scripture, some lost, some still partly extant, which he composed +during these twenty years at Alexandria. It appears that he was in the +habit of writing three different kinds of commentary on the +Scriptures; first, brief comments or notices, such as he has left in +the Hexapla; secondly, scholia, or explanations of some length; and +thirdly, regular homilies. But his homilies belong to a later period. +At Alexandria he commented St. John's Gospel (a labor that occupied +him all his life), Genesis, several of the Psalms, and the "Canticle +of Canticles," a celebrated work, yet extant in a Latin version, of +which it has been said that whereas in his other commentaries he +excelled all other interpreters, in this he excelled himself. But the +whole interesting subject of his creation of Scripture-commenting must +be treated of when we follow him to Caesarea, and listen to him +preaching. + +What we desire now, to complete our idea of his Alexandrian career, +and of what we may call the inner life of his teaching, is, that some +one--a contemporary and a scholar, if possible--should describe his +method and manner, and let us know how he treated his hearers and how +they liked him. Fortunately, the very witness and document that we +want is ready to our hands. One of the most famous of Origen's +scholars was St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, and the most {362} interesting +of the extant works of that father is undoubtedly the discourse and +panegyric which he pronounced upon his master, on the occasion of +bidding farewell to his school. Gregory, or, as he was then called, +Theodore, and his brother Athenodorus, were of a noble and wealthy +family of Cappadocia; that is to say, probably, descendants of Greek +colonists of the times of the Alexandrian conquests, though, no doubt, +with much Syrian blood in their veins. When Gregory was fourteen they +lost their father, and the two wealthy young orphans were left to the +care of their mother. Under her guidance they were educated according +to their birth and position, and in a few years began to study for the +profession of public speakers. As they would have plenty of money, it +mattered little what they took to; but the profession of an orator was +something like what the bar is now, and gave a man an education that +would be useful if he required it, and ornamental whether he required +it or not. The best judges pronounced that the young men would soon be +finished _rhetores_; St. Gregory tells us so, but will not say whether +he thinks their opinion right, and before proof could be made the two +youths had been persuaded by a master they were very fond of to take +up the study of Roman jurisprudence. Berytus, a city of Phoenicia, +better known to the modern world as Beyrout, had just then attained +that great eminence as a school for Roman law which it preserved for +nigh three centuries. Thither the young Cappadocians were to go. Their +master had taught them what he could, and wished either to accompany +them to the law university or to send them thither to be finished and +perfected. It does not appear, however, that they ever really got +there. Most biographies of St. Gregory say that they studied there; +what St. Gregory himself says is, that they were on their way thither, +but that, having to pass through Caesarea (of Palestine), they met +with Origen, to whom they took so great an affection that he converted +them to Christianity and kept them by him there and at Alexandria for +five years. The "Oratio Panegyrica" was delivered at Caesarea, and +after the date of Origen's twenty years as catechist at Alexandria; +but it will be readily understood that the whole spirit, and, indeed, +the whole details, of the composition are as applicable to Alexandria +as to Caesarea; for his teaching work was precisely of the same nature +at the latter city as at the former, with a trifling difference in his +position. The oration of St. Gregory is a formal and solemn effort of +rhetoric, spoken at some public meeting, perhaps in the school, in the +presence of learned men and of fellow-students, and of the master +himself. It is written very elegantly and eloquently, but it is in a +style that we should call young, did we not know that to make parade +of apophthegms and weighty sayings, to moralize rather too much, to +pursue metaphors unnecessarily, and to beat about a thing with words +so as to do everything but say it, was the characteristic of most +orators, old and young, from the days of Ptolemy Philadelphus till the +days when oratory, as a profession, expired before anarchy and the +barbarians. But its literary merits, though great, are the least of +its recommendations. Its value as a theological monument is shown by +the appeals made to it in the controversy against Arius; and in more +recent times Bishop Bull, for instance, has made great use of it in +his "Defensio Fidei Nicaenae." To us, at present, its most important +service is the light it sheds upon the teaching of Origen. We need +make no apology for making St. Gregory the type of the Alexandrian or +Caesarean scholar; they may not have been all like him, but one real +living specimen will tell us more than much abstract description. + +First of all, then, the scholar was not of an emphatically philosophic +cast of mind. The Greek philosophers were absolutely unknown to him. +He was a rich and clever young {363} man, bade fair to be a good +speaker, studied the law not because he liked it, but because his +friends and his master wished it; thought the Latin language very +imperial, but _very_ difficult; and had a habit of taking up what +opinions he did adopt more after the manner of clothes that he could +change as he pleased than as immutable truths. He was of a warm and +affectionate disposition, and had a keen appreciation of physical and +moral beauty. He was not without leanings to Christianity, but he +leaned to it in an easy, off-hand sort of way, as he might have leaned +to a new school in poetry or a new style of dress. He had no idea that +there is such a thing as the absolutely right and the absolutely wrong +in ethics any more than in taste. He was confirmed in this state of +mind by the philosophic schools of the day, among whom it was +considered disreputable to change one's opinions, however good the +reasons for a change might be; which was to degrade philosophy from +truth to the mere spirit of party, and to make a philosopher not a +lover of wisdom but a volunteer of opinion. So prepared and +constituted, the scholar, on his way to Berytus, fell in with Origen, +not so much by accident as by the disposition of Providence and the +guidance of his angel guardian; so at least he thought himself. The +first process which he went through at the hands of the master is +compared by the scholar to the catching of a beast, or a bird, or a +fish, in a net. Philosophizing had small charms for the accomplished +young man; to philosophize was precisely what the master had +determined he should do. We must remember the meaning of the word +[Greek text]; it meant to think, act, and live as a man who seeks true +wisdom. All the sects acknowledge this theoretically; what Clement and +Origen wanted to show, among other things, was that only a Christian +was a true philosopher in practice. Hence the net he spread for +Theodore, a net of words, strong and not to be broken. "You are a fine +and clever young man," he seemed to say; "but to what purpose are your +accomplishments and your journeys hither and thither? you cannot +answer me the simple question, Who are you? You are going to study the +laws of Rome, but should you not first have some definite notion as to +your last end, as to what is real evil and what is real good? You are +looking forward to enjoyment from your wealth and honor from your +talents; why, so does every poor, sordid, creeping mortal on the +earth; so even do the brute beasts. Surely the divine gift of reason +was given you to help you to live to some higher end than this." The +scholar hesitated, the master insisted. The view was striking in +itself, but the teacher's personal gifts made it strike far more +effectually. "He was a mixture," says the scholar, "of geniality, +persuasiveness, and compulsion. I wanted to go away, but could not; +his words held me like a cord." The young man, unsettled as his mind +had been, yet had always at heart believed in some sort of Divine +Being. Origen completed the conquest of his intellect by showing him +that without philosophy, that is, without correct views on morality, +the worship of God, or _piety_, as it used to be called, is +impossible. And yet wisdom and eloquence might have been thrown away +here as in so many other cases had not another influence, imperious +and all-powerful, been all this time rising up in his heart. The +scholar began to love the master. It was not an ordinary love, the +love with which Origen inspired his hearers. It was an intense, almost +a fierce, love (we are almost translating the words of the original), +a fitting response to the genuineness and kindly spirit of one who +seemed to think no pains or kindness too great to win the young heart +to true morality, and thereby to the worship of the only God--"to that +saving word," says St. Gregory, in his lofty style, "which alone can +teach God-service, which to whomsoever it comes home {364} it makes a +conquest of them; and this gift God seems to have given to him, beyond +all men now in the world." To that sacred and lovely word, therefore, +and to the man who was its interpreter and its friend, sprang up in +the heart of the scholar a deep, inextinguishable love. For that the +abandoned pursuits and studies which he had hitherto considered +indispensable; for that he left the "grand" laws of Rome, and forsook +the friends he had left at home, and the friends that were then at his +side. "And the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David," quotes +the scholar, noting that the text speaks emphatically of the union of +the soul, which no earthly accidents can affect, and finding a +parallel to himself in Jonathan, to his master in David, the wise, the +holy, and the strong. And though the hour for parting had come, the +moment when these bonds of the soul should be severed would never +come! + +The scholar was now completely in the hands of his teacher---"as a +land," he says, "empty, unproductive, and the reverse of fertile, +saline" (like the waste lands near the Nile), "burnt up, stony, +drifted with sand; yet not absolutely barren; nay, with qualities +which might be worth cultivating, but which had hitherto been left +without tillage or care, to be overgrown with thorn and thicket." He +can hardly make enough of this metaphor of land and cultivation to +show the nature of the work that the teacher had with his mind. We +have to read on for some time before we find out that all this +vigorous grubbing, ploughing, harrowing, and sowing represents the +dialectical training which Origen gave his pupils, such pupils, at +least, as those of whom Gregory Thaumaturgus was the type. In fact, +the dialectics of the Platonists and their off-shoots is very +inadequately represented by the modern use of the word logic. It seems +to have signified, as nearly as a short definition can express it, the +rectifying the ideas of the mind about itself, and about those things +most intimately connected with it. A modern student takes up his +manual of logic, or sits down in his class-room with his most +important ideas, either correct and settled, or else incorrect, beyond +the cure of logic. At Alexandria manuals were scarce, and the ideas of +the converts from heathenism were so utterly and fundamentally +confused, that the first lessons of the Christian teacher to an +educated Greek or Syrian necessarily took the shape of a Socratic +discussion, or a disquisition on principles. And so the scholar, not +without much amazement and ruffling of the feelings, found the field +of his mind unceremoniously cleared out, broken up, and freshly +planted. But, the process once complete, the result was worth the +inconvenience. + +It was about this stage, also, that the master insisted on a special +training in natural history and mathematics. In his youth Origen had +been educated, as we have seen, by his father in the whole circle of +the sciences of the day. Such an education was possible then, though +impossible now, and the spirit of Alexandrian teaching was especially +attached to the sciences that regarded numbers, the figure of the +earth, and nature. The schools of the Greek philosophers had always +tolerated these sciences in their own precincts; nay, most of the +schools themselves had arisen from attempts made in the direction of +those very sciences, and few of them had attempted to distinguish +accurately between physics and metaphysics. Moreover, geography, +astronomy, and geometry, were the peculiar property of the Museum, for +Eratosthenes, Euclid, Ilipparchus, and Ptolemy himself, had observed +and taught within its walls. Origen, therefore, would not be likely to +undervalue those interesting sciences which he had studied with his +father, and which nine out of ten of his educated catechumens were +more or less {365} acquainted, and puzzled, or delighted, with. Happy +days when mathematics was little and chemistry in its infancy, when +astronomy lived shut up in a tower, clad in mystic vesture, and when +geology was yet in the womb of its mother earth! Enviable times, when +they all (such at least as were born) could be sufficiently attended +to and provided for in a casual paragraph of a theological +instruction, or brought into a philosophical discussion to be admired +and dismissed! Origen, however, had, as usual, a deeper motive for +bringing physics and mathematics into his system. We need not remind +the reader that, if Plato can be considered to have a weak part, that +part is where he goes into Pythagorean speculations about bodies, +numbers, and regular solids. His revivers, about the time we are +speaking of, had with the usual instinct of revivers found out his +weak part, and made the most of it, as if it had been the sublimest +evolution of his genius. We may guess what was taking place from what +afterward did take place, when even Porphyry fluctuated all his life +between pretensions to philosophy and what Saint Augustine calls +"sacrilegious curiosity," and when the whimsical triads of poor old +Proclus were powerless to stop the deluge of theurgy, incantations, +and all superstitions that finally swamped Neo-Platonism for ever. +With this view present to our minds the words of the scholar in this +place are very significant "By these two studies, geometry and +astronomy, he made us _a path toward heaven_," The three words that +Saint Gregory uses in the description of this part of the master's +teaching are worth noticing. The first is Geometry, which is taken to +mean everything that relates to the earth's surface. The second is +astronomy, which treats of the face of the heavens. The third is +physiology, which is the science of nature, or of all that comes +between heaven and earth. So that Origen's scientific teaching was +truly encyclopaedic. He was, moreover, an experimental philosopher, +and did not merely retail the theories of others. He analyzed things +and resolved them into their elements (their "very first" elements, +says the scholar); he descanted on the multiform changes and +conversions of things, partly from his own discoveries, and gave his +hearers a rational admiration for the sacredness and perfection of +nature, instead of a blind and stupid bewilderment; he "carved on +their minds geometry the unquestionable, so dear to all, and astronomy +that searches the upper air." What were the precise details of his +teachings on these subjects it would be unfair to ask, even if it were +possible to answer. We know that he thought diamonds and precious +stones were formed from dew, but this is no proof he was behind his +age; and his acquaintance with the literature of the subject proves he +was, if anything, before it. With regard to naphtha, the magnet, and +the looking-glass, it will be pleasing to know he was substantially +right. He was, perhaps, the first to make a spiritual use of the +accepted notion that the serpent was powerless against the stag; the +reason is, he says, that the stag is the type of Christ warring +against Anti-Christ. That he believed in griffins is unfortunate, but +natural in an Alexandrian, who had lived in an atmosphere d stories +brought down from the upper Nile by the ingenious sailors. As to his +"denying the existence of _the Tragelaphus_" we must remain ignorant +whether it redounds to his credit or otherwise, until modern +researches have exhausted the African continent. + +TO BE CONTINUED. + +------ + +{366} + + +Translated from the Revue Contemporaine. + +EVE DE LA TOUR-D'ADAM. + +BY G. DE LA LANDELLE. + + +I hate those pretentious and high-sounding Christian names which +certain upstarts inflict as a label of ridicule on their children; +but, though I should be accused of having two weights and two +measures, I should be pleased to see perpetuated in the descendants of +a noble race the most fantastic of those chosen by their ancestors. My +antipathy gives way before the religion of remembrance, before heroic +or knightly traditions. I love then even their oddity. I can pardon +even their triviality. I perceive only the old glory, the reflection +of which is preserved by these consecrated names. + +Among the Roqueforts, who claim to have sprung from the Merovingians, +they have, even to our days, the names of Clodimir, Chilpérie, or +Bathilde. Since the time of the Crusades, the youngest son of the Du +Maistres is always an Amaury. The Canluries of Gonneville owe their +names of Arosca and Essomerie to the discoveries of the celebrated +navigator, their ancestor, who brought from southern lands, in 1503, +the Prince Essomerie, son of the King Arosca, whom he adopted and +married later, in Normandy, to one of his relations. There is a family +in Brittany who never part with the names of Audren, Salomon, Grallow, +or Conau. The Corréas, originally from Portugal, pride themselves on +seeing on their genealogical tree those of Caramuru and of +Paraguassus, which signify the _Man of Fire_ and _Great River_. + +Chivalry, the Crusades, some semi-fabulous legend, some marvellous +chronicle, the grand adventures of a Tancred or a Bohemond, the +exploits of a Tannegry, finally, the great alliances, explain and +justify in certain families the privileged use of first names too +rare, or too commonplace, fantastic, romantic, strange, or old, to be +suitable except for them. + +Now, it was thus that, in virtue of an old custom, the grand-daughter +of the Marquis de La Tour-d'Adam had received that of Eve at the +baptismal fonts of St. Sulpice. + +In passing the Gorge d'Enfer, not far from the famous valley of +Roncevaux, you have perhaps remarked the ruins, still majestic, of a +tower which leans above a frightful precipice. The shepherds of the +country maintain that it was built by the fathers of the human race; +were I the most profound of archaeologists I should be very careful +not to contradict them. Who can prove that the Pyrenees did not rise +on the limits of Eden? In the fourteenth century was not all Europe +convinced that the terrestrial paradise, engulfed in the Atlantic, +rises partly above the water in the form of Saint Brandan's Isle, the +promised land of the saints, where Enoch and Elias await the last day? + +In the same manner that the erudite La Tour d'Auvergne, as simple as +he was brave, has demonstrated in his "Origines Gauloises" that Adam +and Eve spoke Bas-Breton, in the same manner the Basque tongue +furnishes unexceptionable proofs of the antiquity {367} of the times +of Adam which the waters of the deluge respected. + +Be this as it may, antediluvian or not, Punic or Roman, Gothic, +Saracen, or Spanish, the old tower was the cradle of an illustrious +family--illustrious on both sides of the Pyrenees. From time +immemorial the first-born was given the name of Adam or of Eve. + +At the beginning of this simple history we have not the leisure to +recount how a royal Moorish prisoner, who, it is said, was called +Adam, escaped from the tower, carrying with him the heiress of the +castle. Nor can we stop from the wars in Palestine one of the warlike +ancestors of our Parisian heroine, a proud Crusader, who brought to +his domains an Oriental Eve, the beloved daughter of we know not what +Saladin. + +These different traditions, which were not the only ones, made the +customs of their ancestors very dear to the family of La Tour-d'Adam; +but the young and merry companions of the grand-daughter of the last +marquis did not care to inquire into the cause of her unusual name. +They kept themselves in bounds in finding it tolerably ridiculous that +she should be called just like the ancestors of the human species. + +"Really, I do not know who could have served as god-mother to our +beautiful friend," said Clarisse Dufresnois, biting her lips. "In my +days I would not consent to give so dangerous a name. When one hears +it one seems to have a too decided fancy for forbidden fruit." + +"Oh! Clarisse, that is mean," murmured Leonore. + +This charitable and timid observation received no response. Albertine, +Valerie, Suzanne, and several other young girls, who were chattering +together while waiting the opening of the ball, seemed by their smiles +to encourage the mocking spirit of Clarisse Dufresnois. They made a +charming group. Blondes and brunettes, red and white, adorned with +flowers and ribbons with delicate taste, they presented to the view an +adorable reunion of smiles and graces, as they said in the last +century. Youth, gaiety, freshness, beautiful black eyes, large blue +eyes, lovely figures, wilful airs, piquant countenances, enjoyment, +vivacity, delicacy--what then did they lack that the gentlemen +cavaliers should make them wait? Truly, we cannot say; but their +habitual delay contradicted the olden fame of French gallantry. These +gentlemen, without doubt, were a thousand times culpable for +Clarisse's little sarcasms. + +"With the fortunate name of Eve," she continued, "should one not +always be the first to show herself?" + +"If you would say, at least the first to arrive," interrupted Leonore. + +"But it has a grand air to appear late; it produces a sensation; one +seats by her entrance all the most elegant dancers; one would be +watched for, desired, impatiently waited for." + +"For that matter, I am sure," said Leonore quickly, "Eve thinks little +about all that; she is as simple as she is good." + +"You see, girls," replied Clarisse, with equal vivacity, "that I have +said something evil of our dear Eve! Goodness! I love her with all my +heart. She is languid, cool, and sentimental; she has her little +eccentricities. Who of us has not? I said simply that she is always +the last to arrive; but, however, I do not think she is so much +occupied in varying her toilette. She is inevitably crowned with +artificial jasmine." + +"Nothing becomes her better," said Leonore. "Beside, Eve is +sufficiently pretty to be charming in anything." + +"Doubtless," replied Clarisse, a little piqued; "only I ask, how can +you tell what becomes her best when she has never worn anything else +for at least four years." + +"Four!" cried nearly all the girls. "Four years! Why, that is an age!" + +"Four years of jasmine!" said Valerie; "what constancy!" + +{368} + +"Bouquet, garland, crown, and I don't know what else," continued +Clarisse, "Eve always has jasmine in some shape." + +"For me," said Suzanne, "I would not, for anything on earth, show +myself three times in succession with a branch or wreath of jasmine." + +The word jasmine, repeated four or five times, made a young girl +tremble as she entered, and, not knowing any of the young ladies, seat +herself at a distance; but, as if drawn by the word which affected her +so singularly, Louise de Mirefont took her place nearest to Clarisse. + +Louise was nineteen; she did not yield in natural grace to Suzanne nor +to Valerie; her color was equal in freshness to the charming +Albertine's; Lucienne had not such brilliant black hair, Leonore an +expression of gentleness not more sympathetic. A timidity acquired, +perhaps, by a sudden trouble veiled the looks of the new rival who now +disputed with all the palm of beauty; a lively carnation spread itself +over her features, which had a faultless purity. With her blushes and +her embarrassment was mingled a vague sentiment of sadness; but what +physiognomist would have been sufficiently skilful to explain the +impression which affected her? + +Of all the merry young girls collected at the ball, Louise was the +simplest attired. She was beautiful enough to carry off any costume; a +simple white dress, a light, rose-colored ribbon around her waist, +that was all. All her companions had either flowers or pearls in their +hair; she alone had no other coiffure than her waving curls, which +rolled round her white shoulders. Each young girl had some rarity in +her toilette. Clarisse, for example, had admirable bracelets and +ear-rings, Lucienne, had a valuable cameo, Suzanne was distinguished +by a spencer of an original pattern, even Leonore by knots of ribbons +of exquisite taste, Albertine by bands of coral interwoven in the +tresses of her fair hair. + +No borrowed ornament could have increased the value of Louise's +charms, whom if one could not without hesitation discern as the prize +of the concourse, at least as the most faithful lover of the Greek +type the model of which she presented in her classic perfection. + +At the moment she approached, Leonore had said, indulgently: "Four +years! four winters!--without doubt Clarisse exaggerates." + +"No, Miss Leonore, I do not exaggerate; I repeat that for four years +Eve has worn only jasmine." + +Clarisse alone could call up the memories of four years; she was the +oldest of all her friends. Some of these had been only a few months +out of the convent, others had made their entrance into society only +the winter preceding. She was not even of the same age as Eve, who had +come out much earlier than any of them. + +Clarisse had just passed the age of twenty-five. Having dreamed of six +or seven superb marriages, she had the grief of aspiring to a seventh +dream, and this was why her indulgence, at all times mediocre enough, +went decreasing in hope as hope deceived, or in inverse ratio to the +square of her age, to help ourselves for once, by chance, by the +algebraic style. Clarisse could have said, but she did not, that she +had seen Eve de La Tour-d'Adam, crowned with roses, the first time she +appeared at the house of the Comtesse de Peyrolles. + +Four or five springs, at most, made a second crown of roses for the +brow of that maiden, who conducted an old septuagenary whose ideas and +decorations recounted the exploits of a generation almost extinct. Eve +advanced on the arm of the Marquis de La Tour-d'Adam, who had not been +seen for several years. Man of the world as he had been in his youth, +and was no longer, the marquis reserved to himself to introduce her +into society. {369} Eve was very young, but the weight of years was +heavy on the old man. The hour was advanced because he wished it so. + +Their entrance made a great sensation; Clarisse remembered that it +made too much. + +Fair, delicately pale, frail and slender as a wasp, the only and last +heiress of the Lords de La Tour-d'Adam, Eve, the child yet unknown, +attracted all eyes. Give life to one of those aerial vignettes to +which the English sculptors deny nothing, unless it is a soul; render +motion to those images of the saints which the simple and pious +workmen sculpture and _animate_ in some sort with their faith, for the +front of our temples; spread an expression of angelic sweetness and +infinite tenderness over the countenance of a virgin purer than the +azure of the sky; around this creation of your least profane thought +let there reign an atmosphere of generous sympathies, that hearts may +be touched, that souls may he captive, that men and women shall be +equally attracted by this undefined sentiment, commonly called of +interest, that this interest shall extend to every harmonious gesture, +to every movement, to every word of the fair young girl; take into +account the veneration inspired by the presence of the old gentleman, +her grandfather--and you will understand at once what was Eve, and the +effect of her first appearance at Madame de Peyrolles'. + +Four years had passed since then. Eve now had entered her nineteenth +year. Had she grown old in one day, had she grown young again, or some +slow suffering, unknown phenomenon, some mysterious illness, was it, +that, without wasting the young girl, abruptly arrested her +development, up to that time so precocious? But, such as she was seen +at Madame de Peyrolles' four winters before, as such Eve reappeared in +the same drawing-room; only Clarisse Dufresnois had said enough about +it--the crown of roses was replaced by a branch of jasmine entwined in +her golden hair. + +And, indeed, a branch of jasmine was placed on the front of the girl's +dress, when dressed for the ball, and, accompanied by Madame du +Castellet, her governess, she presented herself to her grandfather, +who awaited her in the west parlor of the mansion of La Tour-d'Adam +and welcomed her with a tender smile. + +Eve came forward raising to him her sweet blue eyes, and, in melodious +accents: + +"My father," she said, "I have obeyed you; you see I am ready; but why +will you oblige me to leave you again alone for all one long evening?' + +"Child, I shall not be alone; I shall think that my Eve is amusing +herself, I shall see her as if I were there! Youth should have +innocent distractions. Oh! thou hast nobly loved me with all thy +heart, but the society of an old man like me does not suffice at thy +age." + +"God knows I would renounce this ball with happiness, in order to give +you your evening reading." + +"I do not doubt it, my child; but you have promised me that you will +go; go then, amuse yourself with your companions; dance, frolic, +receive the homage which is your due. I am not a miser who hides his +treasure, I wish that my diamond should shine for all eyes; your +triumphs are mine, and your gaiety is the joy of my life." + +"My father, I am never gay except by your side." + +The old man smiled, not without a little incredulity, but the young +girl's clear eyes were fixed on him with a touching expression of +veneration and filial love. Eve repeated with affecting candor that +the watch by her grandfather's side was to her a thousand times +preferable to the noisy pleasures of the world; she grew animated, +and, drawing yet nearer, she said: + +{370} + +"When I have passed the evening with you, I return joyously to my +room, my heart full of noble thoughts. Often you have recounted to us +some incidents of your life, and I am proud of being your child; I +wish for power to imitate your generous example; finally, I find an +inexpressible charm in your recollections and in your narratives. If +you have spoken to me of my father and my mother, whom I have never +known, I am still happy; my melancholy is sweet; I represent to myself +as my guardian angels those whom your words make me love more every +day." + +The Marquis de La Tour-d'Adam felt himself touched; the young girl's +governess had seated herself. Eve added in a less firm tone: + +"On the contrary, when I return from a ball, I feel an indefinable +sentiment of void and weariness; I do not know what it is that I want, +I am sad, discontented with myself." + +"Childishness!" interrupted the old gentleman. "Off with us! A little +thoughtlessness and folly, I insist upon it! One is discontented with +oneself only when one has failed in some duty; you are good, +submissive, pious, charitable." + +Eve blushed slightly, and while her grandfather was continuing his +eulogy she prepared him a cup of tea, drew the stool near, arranged +the cushion on which he rested his head, then, going to the piano, she +played an old battle air of which he was very fond. + +Meanwhile the marquis addressed the governess. + +"My cousin," he said (Madame du Castellet was a distant relative of +the Tour-d'Adams), "combat these tendencies, I implore you; pleasures +and distractions, they are the remedy! I do not understand why this +ball should sadden our darling Eve, why meeting her friends and her +partners should make her melancholy. Eve does not know how to be +untruthful, she hides nothing from us; but she is ignorant herself why +she suffers. Discover this secret, I implore you, that she may be +happy." + +"Eve's happiness is my only desire," replied the governess. "You know +that I love her as my own daughter. I never contradict her; indeed, +she never desires anything that is not praiseworthy. She plans to do +good with an admirable perseverance and delicacy." + +The old marquis at this moment recognized the martial air which Eve +was playing for him; he was deeply affected: + +"She forgets nothing," he murmured. + +Then noticing the flowers the young girl wore: + +"Always jasmine," he said to the governess. + +"She forgets nothing," said Madame du Castellet, in her turn. + +"It is then impossible to overcome the pride of those unfortunate +Mirefonts?" replied the marquis. + +"My nephew, Gaston, cannot get anything accepted," respondent the +governess; "but we will save them in spite of themselves." + +"Heaven preserve me," said the marquis immediately, "from blaming +their susceptibility; unfortunately, the secret means which Eve has so +long employed scarcely suffice; it is necessary to do more." + +"Gaston will aid us, I imagine," replied the governess in a low voice; +"but hush! my pupil will not pardon me if I betray her secrets." + +Eve returned from the piano; the marquis and the governess exchanged a +glance of prudent intelligence. + +"Off with us, young lady, to the ball, to the ball, the carriage is +waiting!" said the old gentleman gaily, kissing the young girl's +forehead. + +Madame du Castellet dragged off Eve; the marquis, left alone, thought +tenderly of his dear grandchild, the bouquet of jasmine, the +unfortunate Mirefont family, of all that Eve had said or done with her +habitual grace, while the military march she had played still +resounded in his heart. + +{371} + +"The noble child!" he murmured; "they counselled me to be severe; how +could I be? I have been indulgent; I have repressed nothing, spoiled +nothing; her generous nature has freely developed itself; she has made +herself blessed even by those who do not know her. Happy, yes, happy, +will he be who shall be her husband." + +The few words exchanged between the marquis and Eve's governess have +shown us that for some time, at least, the secret of one of the young +girl's good actions had been revealed to her grandfather. The old +gentleman would have thought little enough of the coiffures chosen by +Eve, or of her taste for such or such a flower; but Madame du +Castellet had been much surprised one day by her pupil's predilection +for bouquets and wreaths of jasmine. Questions followed each other; +Eve evaded them for a long time; the governess insisted. She blamed +the girl's extravagance, which did not cease to expend considerable +sums for the same flowers. + +"I wish to know if this caprice has anything reasonable in it?" she +said finally, with firmness, even at the risk of displeasing the young +heiress. + +Eve blushed; then in a suppliant tone-- + +"Be at least discreet," she said. "It is the matter of an honorable +family suddenly fallen into extreme poverty, whose only resource is +the sale of jasmine. People do not buy it, so it is that I buy so +much." + +"But still," said Madame du Castellet, "without doubt you know the +name of the family." + +"No, cousin. Fearing to wound worthy people, I have not asked it. Only +my artificial-flower seller told me that this jasmine was the work of +the only child of a poor knight of St. Louis, completely ruined by the +last revolution, and struck with incurable infirmities. His wife can +only take care of him and wait on him. I was much affected by the +story, and above all by the courage shown by this young girl, who +obtained a living for her father and mother by her work. I promised +often to buy jasmine on condition that my name should never be +mentioned; do not be surprised, cousin, that I keep my promise." + +Madame du Castellet embraced Eve with fervor. But soon going to the +source, she knew that the family suffering from so many misfortunes +was that of the Mirefonts. The marquis was instructed. Various offers +of assistance were made, but proudly refused. + +Eve continued to adorn herself with jasmine and to make liberal +presents of it to all her friends, which Clarisse Dufresnois +pleasantly laughed at. + +"Do you love jasmine?" she said, smiling. "Apply to Eve. For a +lottery, a vase or a crown of jasmine; for a present, jasmine; for a +head-dress, jasmine. Madeline, who has penetrated into the delicious +boudoir of Mademoiselle de La Tour-d'Adam, saw only jasmine on every +side. Has she not given some to you also?" + +"Eve has given me a charming bunch," said Leonore. "It was a +master-piece of its kind; a flower was never more perfectly imitated." +Nobody listened to Leonore. + +"Jasmine is, then, Eve's adoration?" said Albertine. + +"Perhaps," suggested Suzanne, "it is the emblem of a deep sentiment, +some memory." + +"In any case, it is a passion, a mania." + +"I do not know what to imagine," said Leonore; "but I would rather +believe it a work of charity." + +"You hear Leonore, young ladies," cried Clarisse; "would it still be +wicked to find this abuse of jasmine monotonous?" + +Louise de Mirefont had started several times, for she was the unknown +artist whose filial devotion created the bouquets and wreaths which +Eve had not ceased to buy. + +For the second time in her life Louise penetrated into the +drawing-room of the Countess de Peyrolles, where she had been +presented the {372} preceding winter by Mlle. de Rouvray, an old +friend of her mother, and companion to the Countess. At the reiterated +requests of Mlle. de Rouvray, Louise's parents consented that their +daughter should go among the society in which her birth and education +called her to live, had not her entire want of fortune kept her away. + +At the time of that single party, which occupied a large place in the +young girl's memory, she had remarked one of her masterpieces over the +brow of Eve de La Tour-d'Adam. She had blushed, not without an +innocent joy. + +How different was her feeling now! Every mocking shaft of Clarisse +wounded her, the smiles of the other girls put her to torture; and +when Leonore, in her indulgent observations, which had consoled her a +little, innocently pronounced the word charity, she grew pale and felt +humbled. Pride brought to her eyes two tears, which vexation dried on +her eyelashes. + +"Mlle. de La Tour-d'Adam has done me an act of charity," she thought +with a sort of wrath. "We have a disguised alms, and M. Gaston du +Castellet has failed in all his promises." + +Such were, we are obliged to avow it, Louise de Mirefont's first +thoughts; pride rendered her unjust and ungrateful. Alas! as we have +been told many times, first thoughts in our weak nature are not always +the best. An angry suspicion, moreover, augmented the girl's +indignation. + +The nephew of Eve's governess, Gaston du Castellet, introduced into +the family of Mirefont by Mlle. de Rouvray, had he, in an excess of +zeal, revealed the secret of a distress courageously concealed for +more than four years? Gaston was, himself, in a position of fortune +more than mediocre, he lived honorably, but in a very modest office. +He had been received with a noble simplicity; his tact, his delicacy, +rendered him worthy of such a reception, and he had also conquered the +good graces of M. and Mme, de Mirefont. + +Louise, during her long is hours of work, often surprised herself +thinking of the amiable qualities, the distinction, the benevolence, +of Gaston du Castellet. While with a light hand she cut out or +adjusted the green leaves or white flowers on their stem, she could +not forbid herself to dream of the prudent attentions which Gaston +showed her. Together with her fairy fingers, her imagination, or +rather her heart, built a frail edifice of green leaves, hope, and +white flowers, like the innocence of her love. A word, a glance, a +smile of Gaston's, some mark of solicitude for her venerable parents, +a generous word pronounced with feeling, received with eagerness, +plunged her in long and sweet reveries. Her floral task was generally +finished before her dream. + +"He wished to associate his efforts with mine to comfort my parents' +old age! With what eagerness he assisted my mother!" thought Louise, +trembling with emotion. "'Why can I not always replace you thus?' said +he. 'My presence will permit you to continue your pious work.' I +succeeded in finishing that evening the crown of jasmine for which my +employer waited so impatiently. And on Sunday, what could be greater +than Gaston's sincere goodness toward my father while my mother and I +had gone to pray for him? When we returned our prayers seemed to have +been heard: he suffered less, and attributed the amelioration of his +state to Gaston's cares, cordial gaiety, and conversation. Heavens! +what were they talking of in our absence?" + +And Louise's mind lost itself in sweet and charming suppositions. Add +to this, that a year before Gaston had met Louise at a ball at Madame +de Peyrolles'; he had noticed her there; and a few days afterward was +presented to her parents by their old friend Mlle. de Rouvray. Gaston +was the only young man admitted to their intimacy. Six months had not +rolled away before he occupied a room in the same house with Louise. + +{373} + +Louise believed herself loved, and did not fear to speak without +disguise of the extreme trouble of her family. The young man had +already ventured various offers of assistance, he returned to the +charge; H. and Mme. de Mirefont constantly with a grateful dignity +refused them. Louise, whose delicious work was selling better and +better, positively forbade him to attempt any officious proceeding. +Gaston promised to make none, and very sincerely kept his word. + +"But Gaston was the nephew of Eve de La Tour-d'Adam's governess. As +Clarisse Dufresnois said, Eve bought jasmine with devotion; according +to Leonore, it was without doubt from charity she did so. Well, then I +had Gaston broken his promise? his direct offers being refused, had he +employed indirect means? might he not be, finally, Eve de La +Tour-d'Adam's agent, her associate, her agent in good works?" + +Louise loved Gaston. And you will pardon her injustice, her +ingratitude, her jealousy; for her second thought was a burst of +repentance; she reproached herself for her pride, she was ashamed of +herself for doubting Gaston, and, more than all, for being ungrateful +to her benefactress. + +Eve entered; she entered crowned with jasmine. + +A tear--but this was a tear of gratitude--bathed Louise's eyelashes, +and slowly descended down her burning cheeks. Her heart was already +refreshed. She no longer heard Clarisse's whispers, she did not see +the mocking smiles of Valerie, Albertine, and their companions; she +did not even perceive that several young men were coming toward her, +and asking her hand for a contra-dance; Eve had entered--she saw only +Eve. + +"Oh! she is an angel! she murmured rapturously. + +"You say truly, Miss Louise, she is an angel!" replied Gaston, taking +her hand. + +Louise raised her head, dried her eyes, and permitted herself to be +carried off by her attentive cavalier, who had observed all, heard +all, and understood all, from the moment she had taken her place in +the circle of girls. + +Eve, conducted by her partner, passed near them, and turning: + +"Gaston," she said in a tone of affectionate familiarity, "will you be +our _vis-â-vis?_" + +The young girls found themselves in each other's presence, their looks +met; Louise's ardent gratitude suddenly aroused Eva de La +Tour-d'Adam's sympathy. + +"What a charming young girl! Do you know her, sir?" + +"No, Miss Eve," answered Eve's partner, and his reply was not finished +without the compliment called forth by a natural term of comparison, +but the triumphant gentleman expended his eloquence for nothing. + +"Does she know me?" said Louise to Gaston; "how she looks at me!" + +"Eve does not know who you are; she will doubtless ask me your name; +well, in telling it, I shall not relate any of your family secrets." + +"Oh! so much the better!" exclaimed Louise. + +"Just now you were blushing and turning pale, I heard, I noticed--" + +Louise lowered her eyes in embarrassment. + +"You were wrong," continued Gaston. "The only indiscretion committed +has been by your employer, the flower-merchant. Eve is interested in +you, she loves you without knowing your name. Her sincere solicitude +goes back already for four years; it is only one, Louise, since I had +the happiness of first seeing you. It was here. The next day Mlle, de +Rouvray received a visit from me, and a few days afterward your +parents kindly admitted me to their house." + +An expression of happiness lighted Louise's delicate features. + +"Then, just now," she said after a moment's interruption, "you divined +my thoughts?" + +{374} + +"I heard Miss Clarisse Dufresnois. I suffered as you suffered. I +hastened to justify myself to you." + +"Oh, Gaston, how much better is your beautiful cousin than I!" + +They now passed in the contra-dance; Eve's hand was not slow in taking +Louise's; the two girls shivered at once. + +Eve must have seemed singularly absent to her partner; she did not +cease to watch Louise and Gaston, she was troubled, and was conscious +of a strange uneasiness. + +"Why this extreme emotion?" she asked herself; "oh! how my heart +beats! I tremble, I suffer, my eyes are growing dim! What is the +matter with me? Who is this young girl, and what is Gaston saying to +her? They pronounced my name, I believe!" + +Gaston was talking enthusiastically to Louise. + +"Eve is not of this earth!" he said. "She is a celestial being whom I +feel myself disposed to invoke on my knees; the respect with which she +inspires me prevents me from seeing even her beauty. I venerate her, +but you, Louise, you I love!" + +Louise started. + +"Oh! do not be vexed by this avowal; I am permitted to make it. During +your absence, on Sunday, M. de Mirefont yielded to my request. My +happiness, Louise, depends on you alone." + +The young girl did not succeed in dissembling her joy, her smiles +crowned Gaston's wishes; he continued in a softened voice: + +"Oh! it was not without trouble that I triumphed, dear Louise. For a +long time your father rejected me on account of his deplorable +position; he would not consent, he said, that I should bind my future +to the sad destinies of his family. I spoke of my love, he replied by +reciting his misfortunes. Permit, I said to him, a son to diminish by +his zeal your Louise's task. Would you repulse me if fortune favored +you? or do you find me unworthy to share your lot? Her filial virtues +even more than her charms have captivated me. If she were destined to +opulence like Mlle, de La Tour-d'Adam, for example, I should be insane +to dare to aspire to her hand. But your Louise is the companion +necessary for a poor, hard-working man like me. She is courageous and +devoted. I came to supplicate you to accept my devotion and my +courage. Finally, overcome by my insistance, he held out his hand to +me; I bathed it with my tears; then, opening his arms: 'Louise shall +pronounce,' he said. With what impatience I waited for you that +evening! Your mother by this time should be aware of my application, +and to-morrow, if you consent, it shall not be simply as a friend, but +as your _fiancé_ that I shall enter under your parent's roof." + +"Gaston--my _fiancé_," murmured Louise. "O God! I am too happy." + +Eve also was near succumbing under a strange emotion; but by a supreme +effort she succeeded in conquering it; but she was so pale she might +have been taken for an alabaster statue. She was faint when she seated +herself at some distance behind Mme. du Castellet and Mlle. Rouvray, +who, retired to one side apart, were talking in a low voice but with +animation. + +Gaston's aunt and the countesses companion, drawn together by the +similarity of their positions, made part of that commendable variety +of aristocracy which we are permitted to call the poor of the great +world. Resigned, free from envy, devoted, body and soul, to the +families in which even their office increased the consideration and +the regard which they merited, such persons are always justly +respected. Their presence honors the houses which welcome them. They +lived in the highest sphere with an admirable abnegation; the firmness +of their principles equalled the amiability of their character: they +had espoused the interests which exclusively occupied them, and were +slaves to their duties. + +{375} + +Eve, still trembling, continued to watch Gaston and Louise, at the +same time that, as if her nervous excitement had given her the faculty +of hearing the feeblest sounds, she did not lose a word of the +conversation of the two old friends. + +"You cannot believe how much this marriage contents me," said Madame +du Castellet, "I have always been afraid that my nephew was taken with +Eve. Eve is so beautiful, so tender, so generous: one cannot know her +without loving her. Gaston already loved her like a brother; they saw +each other continually in spite of all my skill. I did well, the old +marquis did not even suspect the danger. It would have been imprudent +to have hinted the possibility; I have lived on thorns for three or +four years. Eve and Gaston have known each other from childhood; a +formidable friendliness reigned between them; Eve was full of sisterly +attentions; I trembled for my poor nephew." + +"It is certain that Mlle. de La Tour-d'Adam, with her name and her +immense fortune, can only make a grand marriage," said Mlle, de +Rouvray. "We can doubly felicitate ourselves on the success of our +effort. The old Chevalier de Mirefont was ten years younger this +evening, when he announced to me the regular request made by Gaston." + +"It is scarcely any time since I said to the marquis how much I relied +on my nephew, but I did not know it was so advanced." + +"It is a settled thing," said Mlle. de Rouvray, smiling, for Gaston +and Louise had been constantly observed by the two old friends. + +"My nephew will soon be advanced," said Madame du Castellet, "he will +not lack a future, and moreover, he will not refuse the advantages of +which our good cousin will assure him by marriage contract. The +Mirefont family will soon find themselves in ease." + +"Louise is worthy of this good fortune," said Mademoiselle de Rouvray. + +"When I shall be permitted to tell Eve that her cousin is to marry her +interesting _protégé_, oh! I am sure she will be transported with +joy." + +Eve, at these words, thoroughly understood. Detaching from her +headdress a little branch of flowers, she contemplated it a moment. +Then she regarded Louise and Gaston, seated by each other, wrapped in +their happiness, oblivious of the world around them. + +"How happy they are!" she thought + +The ball was very animated, Albertine, Valerie, and Lucienne had +abandoned themselves to the gaiety of their age, but Clarisse, who +observed with secret envy sometimes Gaston and Louise, sometimes Eve, +pensive, refusing ten invitations,--Clarisse cried out all at once: + +"Mademoiselle de La Tour-d'Adam is ill." + +The musicians stopped playing. Gaston rushed to his cousin. Louise was +the first to take in hers Eve's ice-cold hands; she could not refrain +from pressing them to her lips. + +Eve soon opened her eyes, saw Louise on her knees, Gaston at her side, +smiled on them with angelic sweetness, and addressing herself to the +young girl: + +"You do not know me," she said, "but I wish you to be my friend. You +will come to see me, will you not?" + +The little branch of jasmine which Eve had taken from her own forehead +remained in Louise's hands. Madame du Castellet, aided by her nephew, +carried away Eve de la Tour-d'Adam. + +A few minutes after Louise was conducted home. + +Clarisse Dufresnois did not fail to attribute Eve's fainting to the +desire of appearing interesting; this was at least the version which +she gave to the young ladies Suzanne, Valerie, Lucienne, and +Albertine, but the supposition which she expressed to the Vicomte de +la Perlière, the object of her seventh matrimonial dream, was less +inoffensive. + +{376} + +"Mademoiselle de La Tour-d'Adam," said she, "was taken ill of jealousy +and vexation, on remarking her cousin's attention to Mlle, de +Rouvray's _protégé_." + +She enlarged on this theme with so much wit, that the Vicomte de la +Perlière, a man of sense who did not lack heart, forgot at the end of +the winter to propose to her. The autumn following he asked and +obtained Leonore's hand, which did not prevent Clarisse from being +more witty than ever. + + + +II. + +Eve passed a frightful night, a prey to the delirium of fever; the +doctors, forced to reassure the old marquis and the governess, did not +conceal from Gaston that his cousin's case presented very alarming +symptoms. Gaston was uneasy, Louise shared his fears, but their +betrothal took place notwithstanding; the promise already made by M. +de Mirefont was confirmed in the family, but on account of Eve's +illness Madame du Castellet's absence was excused. + +In the Castle de La Tour-d'Adam reigned a profound sadness. + +Eve had recovered her ordinary calm and serenity, but her weakness and +pallor were extreme; the old marquis was conducted to her room. + +"Eve, my dear child, when I think of all you said to me before going +to the ball, I reproach myself bitterly for having forced you to go." + +"Do not regret it, grandfather, for I am delighted to have seen the +young girl who is going to marry my cousin Gaston. I wish her to be my +best friend." + +"My child," said the marquis again, "is anything lacking that you +wish? Have confidence in me." + +"What can I lack? you refuse me nothing." + +"Doubtless, and for all," suggested the old man, with a real timidity, +"you fear to unveil for me the state of your heart! I hesitate to say +what I think, my dear daughter, but if you have a secret +inclination--" + +Eve shuddered, and lowered her large eyes. + +"Know well, at least, that I shall never be an obstacle to your +happiness; my Eve would not know how to make an unworthy choice." + +The young girl bent her head and remained silent. Mme. du Castellet +observed her sadly. + +"Eve," said she, "you answer nothing?" + +"What can I answer?" murmured the heiress, "I ask myself," she said +with feeling. "My good father," she said again, "words are wanting to +express to you my gratitude and my tenderness." + +"Then from what does she suffer?" the marquis asked himself in +despair. + +As a flower scorched by the sun, Eve languished; the fever +disappeared, but her strength did not return. Her only pleasure was to +put on, one after another, the freshest of her jasmine wreaths. + +The doctors understood nothing of her illness; the most skilful of all +interrogated the governess. + +"I fear that this young girl is struck by a moral hurt; love, when it +is opposed, sometimes presents analogous symptoms." + +"We have been beforehand with your question, doctor; Eve knows that +her choice would be approved; she made no response." + +"Has she pronounced any name in her delirium?" + +"None; she spoke only of the good works which constantly occupied +her." + +Madame du Castellet had found that Eve knew the whole history of +Louise's filial devotion. + +"Madame," replied the physician, "I persist in believing that Mlle, de +La Tour-d'Adam conceals her secret from you. A false shame, without +doubt, restrains her; send for her confessor, and have him, if +possible, oblige her to tell you the truth." + +When the doctor had gone, Madame du Castellet burst into tears. Eve +was given up by science, because they {377} absolutely would have it +that her illness had a mysterious origin. + +The confessor was called, although the governess hoped nothing from +his intervention. An emotion of profound piety was painted on the +features of the man of God when he came out of the invalid's chamber, +but Eve, calm and with pious recollection, was praying with her eyes +raised to heaven. The young girl made no confidence to Mme. du +Castellet, only several hours later-- + +"Cousin," she said, "Mlle. Louise de Mirefont and Gaston are slow in +coming to see me." + +It was not the first time that Eve had expressed the same desire; the +governess ordered the carriage in order to go for Mlle. de Mirefont. + +"Louise, generous Louise," murmured Eve, "I would that my soul could +be blended with yours!" + +Her heart beat violently as she thought of Gaston's happiness; Eve did +not account to herself for her poignant emotion, but she prayed that +God would permit her to live for her noble grandfather. + +"My loss would be too cruel for him," she murmured, weeping. + +Then she interrogated herself with a simple severity: + +"Would I then be culpable for not speaking of that of which I am +myself ignorant?" + +Her conscience responded by a firm resolution not to carry trouble to +the hearts of all those who cherished her. "My duty, I feel, is to +rejoice at the happiness of Gaston and of Louise. Do I deceive myself? +My God! enlighten me, guide me!" + +Eve was kneeling; the Marquis de La Tour-d'Adam, assisted by his +valet, entered, and in a reproachful tone-- + +"Why do you fatigue yourself thus?" said he; "Eve, I implore thee, be +careful of thy strength, if only out of pity for me." + +Eve arose with difficulty. + +"Forgive me," she said with a sweet smile, "I will not kneel again +until I am cured." + +Then she sat by her grandfather's side. The marquis, frightened at her +mortal pallor, contemplated her with anguish. + +"I saw her father perish in the flower of his age," he thought; "her +mother a few months after died in giving her life; she was an orphan +from her cradle. All my affections are concentrated in her; she has +never given me occasion for the least pain. Alas! I suffer to-day for +all the happiness she has given me." + +"Do not distress yourself, my father," said Eve, who surprised a tear +in the old man's dry eyes; "I have asked of God to let me remain to +console the rest of your days; my prayer has been heard, it will be +granted. Oh, for pity, do not cry more." + +The marquis took her hand and pressed it against his heart. + +"My father," said Eve after several moments of silence, "our cousin +has gone for Gaston and his _fiancée_; my father, I have a request to +make of you." + +"Tell it, tell it," said the old man ardently. + +Eve bent, and said in a trembling voice: + +"They are both of them generous and devoted; both of them have +suffered much: make them rich, I implore you, lest your wealth should +pass into avaricious hands." + +"Oh! my God! you expect, then, to die! Eve, my darling daughter, is +this your secret?" + +"No! I do not wish to die! no! I wish to live for you!" + +"But I am old, very old!" the marquis replied, with hesitation, +"and--after me--" + +"After you whom shall I love?" said Eve in a melodious voice. "Father, +I implore you, make Gaston and Louise's future sure, and you will have +crowned all my wishes." + +Eve had scarcely finished when Mme. du Castellet entered; Louise and +Gaston followed her. The two lovers succeeded in wiping away their +tears, but their emotion was {378} redoubled when they saw themselves +between the young girl and her grandfather. + +"Come to me," said Eve, "come, Louise! Do you not know that I loved +you before I knew you? See, all that surrounds me is your work. What +would I not give to have made, like you, one of these bouquets of +jasmine! + +"Mademoiselle," murmured Louise, "I have known you and have loved you +only for a few days; but my gratitude and my affection for you are +boundless." + +"Place them on Gaston: he is dear to me as a brother; and you, Louise, +call me henceforth your sister." + +She held her one hand, with the other she drew Gaston forward; then, +addressing the marquis: + +"Father," she said, "see them before you; bless them, I pray you." + +The old gentleman, weeping, extended his hands, then with a voice +choked with sobs: + +"Eve, my beloved child! Eve, thou wishest then to die?" + +The young girl blushed slightly, a ray of sunlight which played +through the curtains crowned her with a luminous halo; she had risen, +her ethereal figure mingled with the white flowers which adorned her +room. + +Gaston said in a low voice to Louise: + +"You see plainly, my friend, that she is not of the earth." + +They bent reverently; but Eve extended her arms: Louise found herself +pressed against her heart. + +The marquis, seeing Eve so radiant, renewed his hope: + +"She is saved!" he said to Madame du Castellet. "The presence of these +young lovers has done her good. Have them come often, I pray you. But +I should leave them together. Adieu, my children, adieu!" + +He was carried back to the great hall. However, the governess +trembled; she saw at last the fatal truth. The heiress's great blue +eyes were fixed on hers; the old lady's trouble increased. Eve put her +finger on her lips, and drawing her to one side: + +"Why are you still distressed, my good cousin," she said to her; "do +you not see how happy I am in their happiness?" + +Gaston's aunt retired heart-broken, doubtful of her suppositions, not +daring to hope for the young girl's recovery. + +Eve was seated between the two lovers: + +"I demand a part in your joy, my friends, and I wish that my memory +may always live with you." + +Then she recounted with simplicity the history of her four last years. +The praises which she gave to Louise's filial piety penetrated the +hearts of the two betrothed, who wished to prostrate themselves before +her, her words had so much purity, sweetness, and unction. Louise +reproached herself, as if it were a sacrilege, for the thought of +pride which she had felt at the ball. Gaston was under an indefinable +impression of tenderness and of gratitude. Eve addressed him with +noble and tender encouragement. Eve, with a pious ardor, made wishes +for the felicity of their union; finally, when they were retiring she +divided between them a branch of jasmine. + +"Preserve this," she said, "in memory of me." + +The sacrifice was accomplished. When they had gone, Eve sighed, +prayed, and felt herself weaker. She had expended in this interview +the little strength which remained to her. + +A despairing cry soon resounded through the house where the young +girl's inexhaustible goodness had won all hearts. + +"Mademoiselle is dying! Mademoiselle is going to die!" + +The Marquis de La Tour-d'Adam, fulfilling his promise, went to add a +disposition to his will, in case the heiress should not attain her +majority. The pen fell from his hand, the chill of death ran through +his veins: + +{379} + +"Eve! Eve! who will take me to her?" + +But Eve entered the room, for she, on her side, had prayed the +governess to have her conducted there. + +The old man saw on her features the certain mark of death, and death +struck him. He murmured for the last time the name of Eve, then fell +back, cold, in his arm-chair. + +However, Eve lived an entire day after her grandfather. + +Her agony was slow and gentle. She asked for jasmine, her couch was +covered with white flowers, bathed in her tears whose filial love had +made them. + +"May Louise be your daughter," said Eve to Madame du Castellet "Louise +will replace me with you." + +Then, addressing Louise: + +"My sister, make your husband happy. Love the poor and pray with them +for my parents, my grandfather, and myself. God be praised," she +murmured finally, "my father's father has preceded me, I go to join +him. Adieu, Gaston! my brother, adieu!" + +Her voice failed, her heart ceased to beat, heaven counted one angel +more. + +Madame du Castellet, Gaston, and Louise passed the night in prayers by +the two beds of death. Finally, the same hearse conducted to the same +tomb Adam, Marquis de La Tour-d'Adam, last of the name, and his +grandchild Eve, the last branch of an illustrious stock. + +A sword which had never been drawn except in a just and holy cause +decorated the aged man's coffin, but that of the child cut down at the +threshold of life was covered with the white flowers which she had so +piously loved. + +To-day the mansion of the Tour-d'Adams is inhabited by M. and Mme. de +Mirefont, Mme. du Castellet, her nephew Gaston, and her niece, Louise. + +A room hung with crowns and wreaths of artificial jasmine serves as +the family oratory. + +No one ever penetrates there except with recollection. + +The servants call it the saints' chamber. + +It is that whence rose toward heaven, as an agreeable perfume to God, +the soul of a maiden dying in all the purity of first innocence; dead +without knowing there existed a forbidden fruit; dead because she +loved with that celestial love which belongs only to the angels in +paradise. + +------ + +From The Month. + +BURY THE DEAD + + +"Give me a grave, that I made bury my dead +out of my sight."--Genesis xxiii. + + + Enwrapt in fair white shroud. + With fragrant flowers strewn. + With loving tears and holy prayers, + And wailing loud, + Shut out the light! + Bury the Dead, bury the Dead, + Out of my sight! + {380} + Corruption's touch will wrong + The sacred Dead too soon; + Then wreath the brow, the eyelids kiss; + Delay not long, + Behold the blight! + Bury the Dead, bury the Dead, + Out of our sight! + + But there are other Dead + That will not buried be, + That walk about in glaring day + With noiseless tread. + And stalk at night; + Unburied Dead, unburied Dead, + Ever in sight. + + Dear friendships snapt in twain. + Sweet confidence betrayed, + Old hopes forsworn, old loves worn out, + Vows pledged in vain. + There is no flight, + Ye living, unrelenting Dead, + Out of your sight. + + Oh! for a grave where I + Might hide my Dead away! + That sacred bond, that holy trust, + How could it die? + Out of my sight! + O mocking Dead, unburied Dead, + Out of my sight! + + O ever-living Dead, + Who cannot buried be; + In our heart's core your name is writ. + What though it bled? + The wound was slight + To eyes that loved no more, in death's + Remorseless night + + O still belovèd Dead, + No grave is found for you; + No friends weep with us o'er your bier. + No prayers are said; + For out of sight + We wail our Dead, our secret Dead, + Alone at night. + + Give me a grave so deep + That they may rest with me; + For they shall lie with my dead heart + In healing sleep; + Till out of night + We shall all pass, O risen Dead, + Into God's sight! + +------ + +{381} + + + +[ORIGINAL.] + +RELIGION IN NEW YORK. + + +The city of New York is supposed to contain about one million of +inhabitants. Of these, from 300,000 to 400,000 are Catholics, probably +60,000 Jews, and from 550,000 to 650,000 Protestants, or +Nothingarians. + +We will first speak of the provision made for the religions +instruction of the non-Catholic majority of our population. + +There are 280 churches of all descriptions, excluding the Catholic +churches. Of these, there are: + + Episcopalian 61 + Presbyterian 56 + Methodist 48 + Baptist 30 + Jewish 25 + Dutch Reformed 20 + Lutheran 9 + Congregational 4 + Universalist 4 + Unitarian 3 + Friends 3 + Miscellaneous 17 + [Footnote 55] + + [Footnote 55: These figures are taken from the last Directory. The + "Walk about New York" gives the number at 318.] + +The number of communicants in Protestant churches is estimated as +64,800. If the churches were all of ample size and equally distributed +through the city, they would suffice tolerably well for the +accommodation of the people, should they be generally disposed to +attend public worship. A large proportion of them, however, are small, +and only 80 churches are situated below First street. The lower and +more populous portion of the city is therefore very destitute of +church accommodation, while the great majority of the churches, +especially the largest and finest, are in the upper part of the town, +among the residences of the more well-to-do classes of the community. +The Protestant population as a whole is, therefore, very poorly +provided with church accommodation. + +A pamphlet, entitled "Startling Facts: a Tract for the Times, by +Philopsukon: Brinkerhoff, 48 Fulton street, 1864," gives a +considerable amount of information on this point. The estimates of +this gentleman are based on a supposed population of 950,000. For the +section of the city below Canal and Grand streets, including the first +seven wards, there are, according to him, 12 churches and 8 mission +chapels, capable of accommodating about 15,000 persons. The population +of this district is 185,000. Twenty Protestant congregations have +within the last twenty-five years abandoned their churches in this +district, and removed to new ones up town. One of the old churches +(St. George's) is retained as a mission chapel, and another, a very +fine one, the Rutgers street Presbyterian church, has been converted +into a Catholic church. These removals have reduced the church +accommodation from 18,000 to 20,000 sittings, while the population has +meanwhile doubled. + +For the section between Canal and Fourteenth streets, including also +seven wards, there are 88 churches for a population of 262,000. +Fourteen churches have been abandoned within ten years. Of these 34 +abandoned churches, 3 have been turned into livery stables, and the +remainder into public offices or stores and factories. + +The upper section, extending to Sixty-first street, includes eight +wards, with a population of 418,000, and has 82 churches. + +{382} + +This gentlemen has counted only what he calls "Evangelical" churches, +in which he estimates the total sittings throughout the whole city at +126,600, but the actual attendance at only 84,400. A "Condensed +Statement" which we have in our bands, estimates the total Protestant +church accommodation at 200,000, and the number of communicants at +64,800. If we allow 150,000 for the ordinary or occasional attendants +at Protestant worship, and 25,000 for the Jewish synagogues, we shall +have then from 375,000 to 475,000 of the non-Catholic population who +attend no place of religious worship or instruction at all. [Footnote +56] The author of the "Startling Facts," who summarily hands over all +except the attendants at "Evangelical" churches to the devil, takes a +very gloomy view of the state of things, and considers that "865,600 +out of the 950,000 pass to the judgment-seat of Christ WITHOUT THE +MEANS OF GRACE;" to be condemned, we are left to infer, because they +did not enjoy those means; while those who did enjoy them and failed +to provide for the wants of the remainder are to be rewarded. + + [Footnote 56: "The Great Metropolis, a Condensed Statement," gives + the Protestant church accommodation at 200,000. "Walks about New + York, by the Secretary of the City Mission," estimates the number of + attendants at "Evangelical churches" at 324,000. Allowing 10,000 + more for other Protestant congregations, and 25,000 for the Jewish + synagogues, this leaves 240,000 as the minimum number of the + non-Catholic population who attend no place of public worship. It + appears to us that it is a large calculation to allow 1,000 + attendants to each church, which would give the total of 280,000 + church-goers, leaving a remainder of 320,000. All the non-Catholic + churches together are capable of accommodating less than 225,000 + persons at one time, leaving 375,000 who have not sufficient + church-room to accommodate them, if all were disposed to attend + regularly. Nevertheless, it does not appear that the majority of the + Protestant churches are over-crowded. The mass of the + non-church-goers are quite apathetic on the subject. They do not + wish to have churches, and probably would not frequent them if they + were built for them free of expense.] + +It must be allowed, however, that he berates them handsomely for their +neglect of duty. He says: + + "Nor is it intended in these few pages to canvass the question as to + the necessity or the expediency, etc., of what is called the + _up-town removal_ of so many of the churches (in all 36), first from + the lower, and now from the central section of the city. All that + can be done is to note the following facts, and leave others to draw + their own inference as to their practical effects. + + "1. In every instance of such church removal, it has originated in + _the change of residence of a few of the wealthier families_ of said + church: this, of course, was followed by a diminution of the means + of support to the said church. Hence the plea of _necessity_ for its + removal; and, making no provision to retain the old church for + _missionary_ purposes, the effect has been to scatter by far the + larger portion both of the church members and of the congregation to + the four winds. For, + + "2. The old church property having been sold, the new location has + been selected with a sole view to the accommodation of these + families of wealth, who left it for an up-town palatial residence, + and a costly church edifice has been erected (often largely beyond + their means) compatible with their tastes. The _result_ of this has + been, + + 3. To place the privileges of the church beyond the reach of the + _mediocre_ and _lower_ classes. And this has led to an _ignoring_ of + that divinely appointed law of God, "_the rich and the poor meet + together, the Lord being the maker of them all_" (Prov. xxiii. 12). + Hence the origin of _caste_ in the churches. _Money_ has been + erected into _the standard of personal respectability_, by which + every man is measured; and hence a courting of the favor of the + rich, and a despising of the poor. + + "Thus the way is prepared _to account for the paucity_ of attendance + at many of these larger and wealthier churches. A consciousness of + _self-respect_ operates largely to deter those who might otherwise + repair to them. They shrink from an encounter, whether right or + wrong, from that _invidiousness_ to which the above principle of the + measurement of personal respectability subjects them; and taking + human nature as it is, it cannot be otherwise. Hence, finding + themselves thus "cut off" from the privileges of the churches, and + that by the act of the churches themselves, {383} they relapse into + a state of absolute "_neglect of the great salvation_." [Footnote 57] + + [Footnote 57: How this is possible in the case of those who have + received the gift of infallible perseverance, it is difficult to see, + unless the "elect" are chiefly found among the _élite_ of society.] + + "And when there is taken into the account _the neglect_ of these + wealthier churches to make provision for the populations in those + sections of the city formerly occupied by them, there is furnished + _an explanation of the vast disparity_ between the number of + churches compared with the immense population as a whole, which + remain unprovided for. + + "True, in order to escape the imputation of neglecting _'the poor of + this world'_ altogether, some of the wealthier churches have + established _missionary Sabbath schools outside_ of their own + congregations. The principal denominations--the Episcopalians, + Methodists, Baptists, Reformed Dutch Church, and Presbyterians, are + also doing something in the way of supporting _missionary chapels + for the poor_; but none of them are making provisions for them in a + manner or to an extent at all commensurate either with their _duty_ + or their _means_. + + "Take, in illustration, a view of the amount of missionary work + being done in this city by the large and wealthy presbytery of New + York. True, the Brick church; the Fifth avenue church, corner + Twenty-first street; the Fifth avenue church, between Eleventh and + Twelfth streets; the Presbyterian church in University place, corner + Tenth street, and perhaps one or two others, each support, + independently of drawing upon the funds raised for domestic + missions, a _mission Sabbath school and chapel_. But out of the + moneys contributed annually by the churches connected with the + presbytery, amounting to from $12,000 to $15,000, there are only + _two regularly organized missionary churches_ connected with that + body. These are the German mission church in Monroe street, comer of + Montgomery, and the African mission church in the Seventh avenue, + each supported at an expense of $600 per annum. Nor are the + ecclesiastical judicatories of other churches doing much better. + + "Is this, then, the way to _'continue in God's goodness?'_ Writing + on this subject, so long ago as 1847, the Rev. Dr. Hodge, the oldest + professor occupying a chair in the Princeton Theological Seminary, + and the learned and able editor of 'The Princeton Review,' had used + his pen in refuting the statement of those in the Presbyterian + Church who affirm that _'we have already more preachers than we know + what to do with,'_ etc.; and having disposed of that matter, he + passes to the subject of the _difference in the mode_ of sustaining + and extending the gospel in and by the Presbyterian Church. In + reference to the _policy_ adopted by said church to this end, he + says: + + "'Our system, which requires the minister to rely for his support + _on the people_ to whom he preaches, has had the following + inevitable results: 1. In our cities _we have no churches to which + the poor can freely go and feel themselves at home_. No doubt, in + many of our city congregations there are places in the galleries in + which the poor may find seats free of charge; but, as a general + thing, _the churches are private property_. They belong to those who + build them, or who purchase or rent the pews after they are built. + They are intended and adapted for the cultivated and thriving + classes of the community. There may be exceptions to this remark, + but we are speaking of a general fact. _The mass of the people in + our cities are excluded from our churches._ The Presbyterian Church + is practically, in such places, _the church for the upper classes_ + (we do not mean the worldly and the fashionable) _of society._" And + to this Dr. Hodge adds, as the _result_ of the working of 'our + system,' the following: + +{384} + + "'_The Presbyterian Church_ IS NOT A CHURCH FOR THE POOR. She has + precluded herself from that high vocation by adopting the principle + _that the support of the minister must be derived from the people to + whom he preaches._ If therefore, the people are too few, too sparse, + too poor, to sustain a minister, or too ignorant or wicked to + appreciate the gospel, THEY MUST GO WITHOUT IT.'" + +Thus far the author of the tract and Dr. Hodge. The statements of the +latter are indorsed by the General Assembly of the Presbyterian +Church. A Baptist clergyman, writing in the "Memorial Papers," a work +which was suppressed after publication, says: "The Church has no +conversions and no hold on the masses. The most successful church +building is that which excludes the poor by necessity." [Footnote +58] + + [Footnote 58: A high price will be paid at this office for a copy + of "The Memorial Papers."] + +We do not cite these statements in order to make a point against +Protestantism from the admissions of its advocates, or to exult over +these admissions. We respect our anonymous friend, and the learned and +accomplished Princeton divine, for their candor, honesty, and zeal for +the religious instruction of the poor. We have nothing in view except +an exposition of the real state of things in New York, and are anxious +to arrive at facts. Allowing for all errors and exaggerations, and +with a perfect willingness to admit everything which can be said to +extenuate the evil, we must admit the palpable, undeniable fact, that +some hundreds of thousands of our population are either unprovided +with the opportunity of attending any form of worship and religious +instruction, or are indifferent to the subject. Sunday is to them a +mere holiday from work (to many not even that), to be spent in +recreation and amusement, if not in something positively bad. + +It appears especially that the lower section of the city has been +almost entirely given up by Protestants. [Footnote 59] There is one +very notable and very honorable exception, however, in Trinity church, +which has always been the best managed ecclesiastical corporation of +all the Protestant religious institutions in our country. + + [Footnote 59: That is, except as a missionary ground.] + +The educational and eleemosynary institutions of New York are on a +colossal scale. We will not go into extensive details on this subject, +as our topic is properly the religion of the city. It is estimated +that there are 144,000 children in New York, of whom 104000 are at +school, [Footnote 60] and 40,000 growing up without instruction. The +poverty, wretchedness, and indifference of parents is more to blame +for the condition of that portion not at school, than the want of +accommodation. + +Hospitals, refuges, asylums of all kinds, abound in the city; as well +as dispensaries where medical assistance and medicine can be obtained +by the poor gratuitously. There is, beside, a gigantic system of +domestic relief and outdoor charity under the direction of the +municipal authorities. The number of individuals relieved in various +ways during the year by these public charities is about 57,000; 30,000 +receive gratuitous medical attendance from the dispensaries. For +education, $1,000,000 a year is expended by the city, and for public +charity, $700,000. The collections made for local purposes of +benevolence are estimated at $500,000, and the other collections made +in Protesant churches at $500,000 more. The ecclesiastical expenses of +maintaining the various churches are estimated at $1,000,000. The +great Protestant societies whose headquarters are in New York, receive +about $2,700,000 annually. $6,000,000 were distributed among the +families of soldiers during the late war. Beside these rough estimates +of the vast sums expended by great public organizations, there is no +counting the amount of individual contributions, often on a large +scale, to colleges, etc., and the sums expended in benevolent works by +private societies or individuals. + + [Footnote 60: This includes also Catholic schools and colleges. The + estimate is too small, however, and another gives 206,000 as the + number going to school.] + +{385} + +There can be no doubt that the people of New York, possessing means, +are a very liberal and philanthropic class. That there is still +remaining a great deal of "evangelical" religious zeal and activity is +also manifest. Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that the influence of +the old, orthodox Protestant tradition has remarkably diminished, and +that the minority of nominal Protestants have lapsed into a state of +indifference to positive Christianity. We doubt if 25,000 men can be +found in the city who sincerely profess to believe the tenets common +to what are called the "evangelical" churches; and of these but a +small fraction adhere intelligently to the distinctive doctrines of +any one sect; _e.g._, the Protestant Episcopal, or Presbyterian. The +remainder have a general belief in the truth of Protestant +Christianity, more or less vague, with a great disposition to consider +positive doctrines as matters of indifference. Outside the communion +list of the different churches, we believe the general sentiment to +be, among the educated, that Christianity is a very useful, moral +institution, containing substantially all the truth which can be known +respecting ultra-mundane things, but without any final authority over +the reason, and completely subject to the criticism of science. Among +the uneducated, we believe that negative unbelief, and a supine +indifference to everything beside material interests, prevails. We +will not attempt to assign causes or reasons for it; but the fact is +evident. A vast mass of the population is completely outside of the +influence of any religious body, or any class of religious teachers +professing to expound revealed truths concerning God and the future +life. Moreover, the traditional belief in revealed truths is much +weaker in the young and rising generation, even of those brought up +under positive religious instruction, than it is in the present adult +generation. There appears to be no tangible, palpable reason for +thinking that Protestant Christianity, under any form, is in a +condition to revive its former sway; to keep what it retains, or to +recover what it has lost. The mere lack of church accommodation will +not account for this, and if at once this lack were remedied, it would +not change it materially. For, in those places which are furnished +with a superabundance of churches, the same undermining of religious +belief is going on. The fact that the most respectable Protestant +publishers make no scruple of republishing the works of such writers +as Renan and Colenso, and that these books are read with such avidity, +indicates the way the current is setting. + +What the result of all this will be, is a matter for very serious +consideration. Our political, civil, and moral order is founded on +Christianity. The old Christian tradition has been the principle of +the interior life of the nation. Take away positive Christian belief, +and the moral principles which are universally acknowledged are still +only a residuum of the old religion. The spirit of Christianity +survives partly in civilization as its vital principle. How long a +certain political and social order may continue after faith has died +out, we cannot say. We cannot but think, however, that a +disintegrating principle begins to work as soon as religious belief +begins to die out. There is nothing, therefore, more destructive to +the temporal well-being of men, than the spread of sceptical and +infidel principles. Merely from this point of view, therefore, the +decay of religious belief and earnestness ought to be deplored as the +greatest of evils, and one for which no advance in physical science or +material prosperity can compensate. What the moral fruits already +produced by this decay are, and what the prospects are for the future +in this direction, we leave our readers to gather from the perusal of +the secular papers; and it may be estimated from the cry of alarm +which is from time to time forced from them, as new and startling +developments of the progress in vice and criminality are made. + +{386} + +We turn our attention now to the Catholic population of the city, and +the religious institutions under the control of the Catholic Church. + +The Catholic population is variously estimated at from 300,000 to +400,000. As no census has been taken, all estimates must be merely +approximate. One way in which an estimate may be made, is by taking +the returns of the census giving the total population of foreign +birth, and getting the proportion of Catholics to non-Catholics among +the various nationalities. Some probable estimate of the native-born +Catholics must then be made and added to the number of foreign-born. +In 1860 the number of inhabitants of foreign birth was 383,717, out of +a total of 813,669. If we suppose that the foreign-born population has +increased to 460,000, it seems not improbable that the Catholic +proportion of it, with the home-born Catholics added, will reach the +total of 400,000. + +Another basis of calculation is the ratio of baptisms to the whole +population. A register is kept with the utmost exactness in each +parish, and the result transmitted once a year to the chancery, where +it is entered in the diocesan record. We are furnished, therefore, +with an authentic census of births from Catholic parents each year, +and if the exact multiplier could be ascertained by which to multiply +this number, we should reach a certain result. It can only be +conjectured, however, with more or less probability, and varies in +different localities remarkably according to the character of the +population. The baptisms for one year are 18,000. Multiply the number +by 33, as is usually done in making the estimates of the general +census, and you have 594,000. This number is too large, however. If we +take 20, it gives us 360,000; 25, 450,000. We do not profess to come +any nearer than this to an estimate of the actual Catholic population. +The two conjectural calculations, compared with each other, appear to +settle the point that it is, as we have already stated, between +300,000 and 400,000. + +The number of churches is 32, or one to from 10,000 to 12,000 people; +and the number of priests 93, or one to about 4,000 people. In the +lower section, embracing the first seven wards, there are five +churches: St. Peter's in the Third ward, St. James's in the Fourth, +St. Andrew's and Transfiguration in the Sixth, and St. Teresa's in the +Seventh. These churches furnish nearly three times as much +accommodation as the Protestant churches in the same district. It must +be remembered that the capacity of a Catholic church includes standing +room as well as sittings, and must be multiplied by the number of +masses. A church which will hold, when crowded, 2,000 persons, and +where four masses are celebrated, will accommodate 8,000 on one +Sunday; and, considering the causes which keep many from attending +church regularly, 12,000 different individuals who attend regularly or +occasionally. One of these churches, St. Teresa's, is a very fine +building of stone, which was purchased about four years ago from the +Presbyterians, and was called in former times the Rutgers street +Presbyterian church. No Catholic church in the lower part of the city +has ever been closed, or moved up town, with the exception of St. +Vincent de Paul's. + +The middle district has nine churches: St. Alphonsus' in the Eighth +ward (German and English), St. Joseph's in the Ninth, St Bridget's in +the Eleventh, St. Mary's in the Thirteenth, St. Patrick's in the +Fourteenth, St. Ann's in the Fifteenth, Holy Redeemer (German), St. +Nicholas's (German), Nativity, in the Seventeenth. + +Below Fourteenth street we have, therefore, fourteen churches, most of +them very large, surrounded by a dense Catholic population, and +crowded with overflowing congregations. A very large proportion of our +Catholic population is in this part of the city. + +{387} + +Between Fourteenth and Eighty-sixth streets we have fifteen churches: +St. Columba's and St. Vincent de Paul's (French) in the Sixteenth +ward, St. Francis Xavier's and the Immaculate Conception in the +Eighteenth, St. Francis's (German), St. John Baptist's (German), and +St. Michael's in the Twentieth, St. Stephen's and St. Gabriel's in the +Twenty-first, Holy Cross, Assumption (German), and St. Paul's in the +Twenty-second, St. Boniface's, St. John's, and St. Lawrence's in the +Nineteenth. Above Eighty-sixth street we have St. Paul's, Harlem, and +the Annunciation and St. Joseph's (German), Manhattanville. [Footnote +61] + + [Footnote 61: Of these churches, St. Teresa's, Immaculate Conception + St. Michael's, St. Gabriel's, St. Boniface's, Assumption, St. + Paul's, and St. Joseph's (German), are comparatively new; and a very + large cathedral, capable of containing 10,000 persons is building. + St. Stephen's is also being enlarged to a capacity of 5,000, and a + church has been purchased for the Italians.] + +After the old Catholic fashion of jamming and crowding, all these +churches might allow somewhere near 200,000 persons, or two-thirds of +the adult Catholic population, to hear mass on any one Sunday, if they +should all attempt to do so on the same day. Judging by the way +churches are crowded, we would suppose that more than two-thirds +attend occasionally; and of those who do not, the majority neglect it +through poverty, discouragement, indolence, and a careless habit, or +some other reason which does not imply loss of faith. As to +confessions and communions, they flow in a ceaseless stream throughout +the year, as if the paschal time were perpetual. In cachone of our +churches there are from 100 to 500 communions every week, and a much +greater number on the principal festivals. Probably the usual number +of communions in the city, on any Sunday taken at random, is not short +of 5,000. At least 8,000 children receive first communion and +confirmation every year; and from 40,000 to 50,000 are instructed +every week in the catechism, the Sunday schools varying in their +numbers from 500 to 2,500. + +The Catholic population is increasing at the rate of at least 20,000 a +year. New York is now about the fourth city in the world in Catholic +population, and bids fair, in a few years, to rank next to Paris in +this respect. + +The Catholic institutions for education, strictly within the city +limits, are: + +1. Two colleges, St. Francis Xavier's and Manhattan colleges, the +first conducted by Jesuits, and the second by Christian Brothers. + +2. Two academies for boys and twelve for girls. + +3. Twenty-one parochial schools for boys, and twenty for girls, the +whole containing about 14,000 pupils. + +There are other very large and fine establishments in the vicinity of +New York, practically belonging to the city, but not within its +limits. + +There are 4 orphan asylums, a protectory for the reception of vagrant +children in two departments, male and female, which is out of town, +another for servant girls out of place, a very fine industrial school +for girls, 2 hospitals, 4 religious communities of men; and 11 of +women. The most numerous of these religious congregations are the +Jesuits and the Sisters of Charity; the former having in the diocese +39 fathers, beside numerous members of inferior grade, and the latter +333 sisters and 39 different establishments. + +In every sense except as regards municipal government, Brooklyn, which +is on the other side of East River, is a part of New York; and there +we have another diocese of immense proportions, with another great +congeries of Catholic institutions. On the opposite side of the town, +and on the Jersey shore of the Hudson, the churches of Jersey City, +which is remarkably advanced in Catholic institutions, are plainly +visible. + +Our object in this article has been to give a general idea of the +provision made for the religious wants of the mass of the population +in the city of New York. + +{388} + +In spite of the uncertainty of the estimates and statistics we have +given in regard to exact numbers, it is plain that this provision is +very inadequate; that a vast mass of our population is unprovided for +or totally indifferent; that the orthodox Protestant societies have +lost to a great extent their influence over the mass of the +population, and that a great body of practically heathen people has +been gradually forming and accumulating in the very bosom of our +social system. + +Where are we to look for a remedy to this state of things? It is +necessary to our political and social well-being that crime and vice +should be restrained, that the mass of the people should be instructed +and formed in virtue, taught sobriety, chastity, honesty, obedience to +law, fidelity to their obligations, and universal morality. Soldiers, +policemen, prisons, poor-laws, and all extrinsic means of this kind +are insufficient preventives or remedies for the disorders caused by a +prevalence of vice and immorality. They will burst all these bonds, +and disrupt society, if not checked in their principle. Can liberal +Christians, philanthropists, philosophers, political economists, and +our wealthy, well-informed gentlemen of property, who have thrown away +their Bibles, and who sneer at all positive revelation, indicate to us +a remedy? Can they apply it? Is it in their power, by scientific +lectures, by elegant moral discourses, by material improvements, by +societies, by laws, by any means whatever, to tame, control, civilize, +reform, make gentle, virtuous, conscientious, this lawless multitude? +Can they give us incorruptible legislators, faithful magistrates, +honest men of business, a virtuous commonalty? Can they create truth, +honor, and magnanimity, patriotism, chastity, filial obedience, +domestic happiness, integrity? If not, then give them their way, let +their doctrines prevail, throw away faith in a positive revelation, +and they will not be safe in their houses. The rogues will hang the +honest men, and might will be the only right. One of the leaders of +the party has not hesitated to avow that the prevalence of his +principles would necessarily produce a social and moral chaos of +disorder, before mankind could learn in a rational way that their true +happiness lies in intellectual and moral cultivation. What has the +sect of the philosophers ever done yet to produce virtue and morality +in the mass of mankind? What can they do now? They cannot even +reproduce what was good in heathenism, for that was due to an +imperfect and corrupted tradition of the ancient revelation, and the +influence of the sophists tended to destroy even that. Our modern +sophists act on the same principle, and are busily at work to destroy +the Christian tradition of faith, and with it the principle which +vitalizes Christian civilization. + +Can orthodox Protestantism recover its ancient sway, and reproduce a +state of religions belief and moral virtue equal to that which once +prevailed? We would like to have them prove their ability to do so, +and show that they have even made a fair beginning toward recovering +their lost ground. We leave them to do what they can, and to try out +their experiment to the end on the non-Catholic majority of our +population. If their intelligence, wealth, zeal, and prestige of +position were thrown into the defence of the common cause of Christian +revelation by union with the Catholic Church, the victory would be +certain. Unbelief and indifferentism could never make any stand +against a united Christianity, in a population so full of religions +reminiscences and predilections, and so susceptible to persuasive +logic and genuine eloquence, as our own. The Christian cause is +weakened by its divisions, and by the political and social schisms +which are bred by the schisms in religion. Not only those who are +separated from the common trunk of the Catholic Church suffer from the +separation, but the trunk itself suffers and is mutilated by the loss. +{389} The Catholic Church cannot do her work completely where the +majority of those who prefer Christianity are opposed to her, +especially when this majority includes the greater part of the more +elevated classes. + +It is evident, nevertheless, that the Catholic Church in New York has +done a great work in our population, and has a great work to do. We +have much more than one-third of the whole population, and the +majority of the laboring class, and of the poor people, on our hands. +The Catholic clergy alone possess a powerful and extensive religions +sway over the masses of the people. The poor are emphatically here, as +they have been always and everywhere, our inheritance. Nearly all that +has been done, and is now doing, in an efficacious manner and on a +large scale, for the religions welfare of the populace, is the work of +our priesthood and their coadjutors. It is impossible to estimate the +benefit to society in a political, social, and moral point of view, +accruing from the influence and exertions of the Catholic clergy. This +is persistently denied by a certain class of writers, who never do +justice to the Catholic Church except under compulsion. One of them, +writing in one of our principal weeklies, recently qualified the +Catholic Church in the United States, whose growth and progress he +could not ignore, as a mere empty shell without any moral life or +power. He accused the Catholic clergy of not exercising that moral +influence in the country at large which they ought to exercise, and +have exercised in other times and places. + +What a change of base this is! But now, the Catholic religion was a +kind of embodied spirit of evil, and her ministers had to vindicate +their title to the rank of men and Christians. Religion, morality, +liberty, happiness, would be swept from the country if they were not +exterminated! Now, forsooth, we are gravely asked why we do not exert +a greater influence for promoting the general well-being of the +country? The truth is, that the influence of the Catholic clergy on +the people at large has until now been a cipher. They have had no +recognized position, and have been counted for nothing, except so far +as certain individuals have commanded a personal respect. There is, +moreover, a great amount of sham and trumpet-blowing about the great +moral demonstrations of the day. The Catholic clergy have not chosen +to meddle with questions which were none of their business, or to +parade and speechify on platforms or at anniversaries. They have +enough to do in looking after the immediate and pressing spiritual and +temporal wants of their own people. And in doing this they prevent and +reform more vice, produce more solid morality, and work more +effectually for the well-being of their fellow-men, than could be done +by the best devised philanthropic schemes. One mission in a city +congregation, one paschal-time with its labor in the confessional, +will do more to uproot drunkenness, dishonesty, and licentiousness, or +to hinder these upas-trees from striking root in virgin soil, than our +amateur philanthropists could _describe_ if they were all to write and +lecture on the subject for a year. + +The one great, palpable fact which confronts us on every side is, that +the religious and moral education of nearly one-half our population is +in the hands of the Catholic Church, and that the well-being of our +commonwealth depends, therefore, to a great degree on the thorough +fulfilment of this task. It is evident that we have enough to do in +making provision for our vast and increasing Catholic population, to +employ all the energies and resources which can possibly be brought +into play, both by the clergy and the laity. + +------ + +{390} + + +Translated from Le Correspondant + +A PRETENDED DERVISH IN TURKESTAN. + +BY ÉMILE JONVEAUX. + + +IV. + +The next day the hadjis assembled in the court of the monastery in +which they had resided since arriving in Khiva. The caravan, thanks to +the generosity of the faithful, presented a very different appearance +from that which it offered at its arrival. They were no more those +ragged beggars, covered with sand and dust, whose pious sufferings the +multitude had admired; every pilgrim had the head enveloped in a thick +turban as white as snow, the haversacks were full, and even the +poorest had a little ass for the journey. + +"It was Monday, toward the close of the day," relates our traveller, +"that making an end of our benedictions, and tearing ourselves with +difficulty from the passionate embraces of the crowd, we left Khiva by +the gate Urgendi. Many devotees in the excess of their seal followed +us more than a league; they shed many tears, and cried despairingly, +'When will our city have the happiness again to shelter so many +saints?' Seated upon my donkey, I was overwhelmed with their too +lively demonstrations of sympathy, when happily for me, the animal, +fatigued by so many embraces, lost patience and started off at a grand +gallop. I did not think it proper at first to moderate his ardor; only +when at a considerable distance from my inconvenient admirers I +endeavored to slacken somewhat his pace. But my long-eared hippogriff +had taken a fancy to the course; my opposition only vexed him, and he +testified his ill-humor in noisy complaints which displayed the extent +and richness of his voice, but which I could have preferred to hear at +a distance." + +The travellers, after a day's march, encamped on the bank of the Oxus, +which they wished to cross at this point. The river, swollen by the +melting of the snows, becomes so wide in the spring that one can +hardly see the opposite bank. The yellow waves, hurried rapidly along, +contrast with the verdure of the trees and cultivated lands which +extend as far as eye can reach. Toward the north, a +mountain--Oveis-Karaine--is defined like an immense cloud upon the +azure sky. The passage of the Oxus, begun in the morning, lasted till +sunset. It would not have required so long a time, but the current +carried the voyagers into the midst of little arms from which it was +necessary afterward to ascend or re-descend, and this accident +occurred every few paces. The transportation of the donkeys, which it +was necessary now to put upon land, and again to gather into the +boats, was, as one may imagine, a prodigious labor. "We were reduced," +says our traveller, "to carry them in our arms like so many babies, +and I laugh yet when I think of the singular figure of one of our +companions, named Hadji Yakaub. He had taken his _monture_ upon his +back, and while he tenderly pressed the legs to his bosom, the poor +animal, all trembling, tried to hide his head upon the shoulder of the +pilgrim." + +{391} + +The caravan followed the banks of the Oxus for many days, or rather +during many nights, for the heat was so great that it was impossible +to travel until sunset. The pale light of the moon gave to the +landscape something fantastic; the long file of camels and travellers +extended itself in tortuous folds upon the flinty soil, the waters of +the river flowing slowly with a mournful noise, and beyond extended +afar the formidable desert of Tartary. This district, which bears the +name of Toyeboyun (camel's back), no doubt on account of the curves +described by the Oxus, is inhabited at certain seasons of the year by +the Kirghiz, a nomad people among the nomads. A woman to whom Vambéry +made some remarks on the subject of this vagabond existence, replied +laughing, "Oh, certainly! one never sees us, like you other mollahs, +remain days and weeks sitting in the same place; man is made for +movement. See! the sun, the moon, the stars, the animals, the fish, +the birds, everything moves in this world; only death remains +motionless." As she finished these words, the cry was heard, "The +wolf! the wolf!" The shepherdess cut short her philosophical +dissertation to fly to the assistance of her flock, and made so good a +use of voice and gesture, that the ferocious beast took flight, +carrying with him only the beautiful fat tail of one of the sheep. + +The Kirghiz are very numerous in central Asia; they inhabit the +immense prairies situated between Siberia, China, Turkestan, and the +Caspian sea; but it is difficult to compute their number. Ask them a +question on this subject, and they will reply emphatically, "Count +first the sands of the desert, then you will be able to number the +Kirghiz." Their wandering habits have secured them against all +authority, and Europeans are in an error when they believe them to be +subject to the government of Russia or that of the Celestial Empire. +None of these nations have ever exercised the least power over the +Kirghiz; they send, it is true, officers charged to left taxes among +them, but the nomads regard these functionaries as the chiefs of a +vast foray, and they only admire how, instead of despoiling them of +everything, they content themselves with levying upon them only a +slight tax. Revolutions have often changed the face of the world, the +inhabitants of the desert have remained the same for thousands of +years; singular types of savage virtue and vice, they offer today a +faithful image of the ancient Turani. + +The pilgrims were anticipating with delight the end of their journey; +only six or eight stages remained, when one morning at break of day, +two men almost naked approached the caravan, crying in suppliant +tones: "A morsel of bread, for the love of God!" Every one hastened to +assist them, and when food had somewhat restored their strength, they +informed the dervishes that, surprised by a band of Cossacks, _ataman +Tekke_, they had lost baggage, clothes, provisions, and were only too +happy not to have lost their lives. The brigands, one hundred and +fifty in number, were planning a raid upon the troops of Kirghiz +camped upon the banks of the Oxus: "Fly, then, or hide yourselves," +added the men, "or else you will meet them in a few hours, and in +spite of your sacred character, these bandits without faith or law +will abandon you in the Khalata, after robbing you of all you +possess." The kervanbashi, who had already been pillaged twice, no +sooner heard the words Tekke and ataman than he gave the order to beat +a retreat. Consequently after having rested the animals a short time +and filled their bottles, the hadjis, casting a look of inexpressible +regret upon the tranquil banks of the Oxus, made their way toward +those frightful solitudes which had already swallowed up so many +caravans. They advanced in perfect silence, not to arouse their +enemies; the step of the camels upon the dusty soil returned no sound, +and very soon the shades of night enveloped them. + +{392} + +Toward midnight all the pilgrims were obliged to dismount and walk, +because the animals buried themselves to the knees in the sand. It was +a severe trial for Vambéry; his infirmity doubled the fatigue of a +tramp over a moving ground, in the midst of a continuous chain of +little hills, therefore he hailed with joy the point designated for +the morning station. The place, however, bore a name little calculated +to inspire confidence. _Adamkyrylgan_ (the place where men perish) +justified in appearance its sinister appellation. As far as the eye +could reach, extended only a sea of sand, which, on one side raising +itself in hills like furious waves, still bore the visible imprint of +the tempest, and on the other resembled a tranquil lake hardly ruffled +by a light breeze. Not a bird traversed the air, not an animal, not an +insect gave an appearance of life to this desolate spot. Far and near +were seen only the blanched bones of men and camels, frightful +witnesses of the disasters caused by the _Tebbad_ or fever-wind, which +from time to time poured upon the desert its burning breath. + +The travellers were not pursued; the Tekkes themselves, bold +cavaliers, hesitated to penetrate the Khalata. According to the +calculation of the kervanbashi, six days' journey at most separated +the caravan from Bokhara; the bottles being well filled, the pilgrims +hoped they should not suffer from thirst; they had not counted upon +the burning sun of the dog-days, which evaporated the precious liquid. +In vain, to escape from this cursed region, they endeavored to double +the hours of march; many camel died of fatigue, and the water +diminished all the more rapidly. At last two hadjis, exhausted by +privations, became so ill that it was necessary to bind them upon +their donkeys with cords, for they were unable to hold themselves up. +"Water! Water!" they murmured in dying accents. Alas, their best +friends refused to sacrifice for them the least swallow of this +liquid, each drop of which represented an hour of life; so, on the +fourth day, when the pilgrims reached Medemin Bulag, one of these +unhappy men was released by death from the cruel tortures of thirst. +His palate had assumed a grayish tint, his tongue had become black, +the lips like parchment and the open mouth displaying the naked teeth. +Horrible to relate, the father hides from the son, brother from +brother, the provision of water which would relieve his torture! Under +any other proof, these men would, perhaps, have shown themselves +generous and devoted, but thirst drives from the heart every sentiment +of compassion. + +Vambéry soon experienced himself its terrible effects. He managed with +the parsimony of a miser the contents of his bottle, until he +perceived with fright a black point formed upon the middle of his +tongue. Then, blinking to save his life, he swallowed at once half the +water which he had left. The fire which devoured him became more +violent toward the morning of the fifth day, the pains in the head +increased, and he felt his strength failing him. Meanwhile, they +approached the mountains of Khalata, the sand became less deep, all +eyes eagerly sought the tracks of a flock, or the hut of a shepherd; +in this instant the kervanbashi called the attention of the pilgrims +to a cloud of dust which rose at the horizon, warning them to lose not +a moment in dismounting from their camels. + +"The poor animals," relates Vambéry, "felt the approach of the Tebbad. +Uttering a doleful cry, they threw themselves upon their knees, +extended their long necks upon the ground, and endeavored to hide +their heads in the sand. We sheltered ourselves near them as behind a +wall; hardly were we upon the ground when the tempest broke over us +with a sullen roar, leaving us the moment after, covered with a thick +coat of dust. When this rain of sand enveloped me, it seemed to me +burning like fire. If we had been attacked by this tempest two days +before in the midst of the desert, we must all have perished. + +{393} + +"The air had become of an overwhelming weight; I could not have +remounted my camel without the aid of my companions; I suffered +intolerable pains, of which no words can give the least idea. In face +of other perils, courage had now left me, but in this moment I felt +broken down, my head ached so that I could not think, and a heavy +sleep overcame me. On awaking, I found myself lying in a hut of clay, +surrounded by long-bearded men whom I recognized as Iranians." + +They were, in fact, Persian slaves sent into the desert to watch the +flocks of their master; these brave fellows made Vambéry swallow a +warm drink, and, soon after, a beverage composed of sour milk, water, +and salt, which soon restored his strength. Before quitting the +Sunnite pilgrims, in whom they must have recognized the bitterest +enemies of their race, the poor prisoners shared with them their +slender provision of water, an act of meritorious charity which +without doubt was regarded with complacency by the God of mercy who is +the Father of all. + +The caravan at last reached Bokhara, the most important city of +central Asia, but which preserves to-day few traces of its ancient +grandeur. Still, it possesses fine monasteries and colleges which +rival those of Samarcand. These schools, founded at a great expense +and sustained by great sacrifices, have given Europeans a high idea of +Asiatic learning; but it must be remembered, they are controlled by a +blind fanaticism. The exclusive spirit of the Bokhariots restricts +singularly the circle of studies, all instruction turning upon the +precepts of the Koran and religious casuistry. We do not find to-day a +single disciple who occupies himself with history or poetry; if any +one were tempted to do it, he would be obliged to conceal it, for +attention given to subjects so frivolous would be considered a proof +of weakness of mind. + +Vambéry and his companions found asylum in a _Tekki_ or convent, a +vast square building, of which the forty cells opened upon a court +planted with fine trees. The _Khalfa_, or "reverend abbot," as our +Hungarian traveller calls him, was a man of agreeable exterior and +gentle and published manners. He received Vambéry most graciously, and +the two interlocutors opened a pompous, subtle conversation, full of +reticence and mental reserves, which charmed the good Khalfa and gave +him also the highest opinion of his new guest; so from his arrival in +Bokhara, our traveller acquired a great reputation for learning and +sanctity. + +The next day, accompanied by Hadji Bilal, he went out to see the city. +The streets and houses of this noble city are chiefly remarkable for +their slovenly appearance and ruinous condition. After having crossed +the public squares, where they went up to the ankles in a blackish +dust, the two friends arrived at the bazaar which was filled with a +noisy and busy crowd. These establishments by no means equal those of +Persia in extent and magnificence, but the mingling of races, of +costumes and habits, forms a bizarre spectacle which captivates the +eye of a stranger. Persians, their heads wrapped in their large blue +or white turbans, according to the class to which they belong, jostle +the savage Tartar, the Kirghiz with his slouching gait, the Indian +with his yellow and repulsive face, bearing upon the forehead the red +brand, and, finally, the Jew, who preserves here, more than anywhere +else, his distinctive type, his noble features, his deep-sunk eyes, +where an astute intelligence glitters. Here and there we meet also a +Turcoman, easily recognized by his proud mien and bold glance; +motionless before the shops of the merchants, they think perhaps of +the precious booty which the riches displayed before them will furnish +for their forays. + +The pilgrims received everywhere marks of enthusiastic sympathy; the +foreign appearance of Vambéry excited particular admiration. "What +{394} faith he must have," said one, "to come from Constantinople to +Bokhara, and endure the fatigue of a journey through the great +Desert, in order to meditate at the tomb of Baveddin!" [Footnote 62] +"Without doubt," replied another, "but we also go to Mecca, the holy +city by eminence, and in order to accomplish this pilgrimage we leave +our business, and endure, I should think, quite enough fatigue. These +people," and he pointed his finger at Vambéry, "have no business to +occupy them; their whole life is consecrated to exercises of piety and +to visiting the tombs of the saints."--"Bravo, very well imagined!" +thought our traveller, while he cast glances which he tried to render +indifferent, upon the display of Russian and other European goods +exposed for sale; he often had great difficulty in repressing an +imprudent emotion when he saw articles of merchandise bearing the +stamp of Manchester or Birmingham. Quickly turning his head for fear +of betraying himself, he fixed his attention upon the products of the +soil and of native industry, examined a fine cotton fabric called +_Aladja_, where two colors alternate in narrow stripes, silken stuffs, +rich and various, from the elegant handkerchief as thin as the +lightest gauze, to the heavy _atres_, which falls in large luxurious +folds. Leathers play an important part in Bokharist manufactures, the +shoemakers of the country make of them long boots for both sexes; but +the shops towards which the people pressed most eagerly were those of +the clothes-merchant, where ready-made garments strike the eye by +their dazzling colors, for Bokhara is the Paris of central Asia, +regarded by the Turcomen as the centre of elegance. + + [Footnote 62: An ascetic celebrated throughout Islam, founder of the + order of the Nakishbendi, to which the Hungarian traveller pretended + to belong.] + +When he had sufficiently contemplated this curious tableau, Vambéry +asked Hadji Bilal to take him to a place where he might rest and +refresh himself; and the two friends went together to a place called +_Lebi Hanz Divanbeghi_(quay of the reservoir of Divanbeghi), where all +the fashionables of the city collect. In the middle of the square is +a reservoir one hundred feet deep and eighty wide, bordered with cubic +stones forming a stair of eight steps to the water's edge. All around +magnificent elms shade the inevitable tea-shop, and the colossal +_samovar_, not less inevitable, invites every passer-by to take a cup +of the boiling liquid. On three sides of the square, little stalls, +sheltered by bamboo matting, display to the eye bread, fruits, +confectionery, hot and cold meats. The fourth side takes the form of a +terrace, and close by rises the mosque _Mesdjidi Divanbeghi_, Before +the doors are planted a number of trees, under which the dervishes and +_meddah_ (popular orators) recount to the wondering crowd, the +exploits of heroes, or the holy deeds of the prophets. Just as Vambéry +arrived, the Nakishbendis crossed the square, making their daily +procession. "Never shall I forget," says our traveller, "the +impression which these wild enthusiasts made upon me: their heads +covered with pointed hats, with flowing hair, and long staves in their +hands, they danced a round like the orgies of witches, yelling sacred +songs, of which their chief, an old man with a gray beard, intoned +alone the first strophe." + +The secret inquisition established in Bokhara began very soon to annoy +Vambéry in spite of his reputation for sanctity. Spies sent by the +government came almost every day, upon one pretext or another, to open +with the stranger conversations which always turned upon Europeans, +their diabolical artifices, and the chastisements which had punished +the audacity of many of them. They hoped that some imprudent word +would drop to justify their suspicions, but the European was too much +on his guard to be caught; he listened at first with patience, and +then affecting an air of contemptuous indifference, "I left +Constantinople," said he, "to get away from these {395} cursed +Europeans, who, no doubt, owe their arts and sciences to the demon. +Now, Allah be praised! I am in Bokhara, and I don't want to be +troubled with thinking about them." + +The emir was then absent; the minister who directed the inquest, +seeing that his emissaries were completely foiled, resolved to make +the stranger appear before a tribunal composed of onlemas, where his +orthodoxy would be scrupulously examined. He had, in fact, to sustain +a running fire of embarrassing questions which would be sure some day +to pierce his incognito. Fortunately, he perceived the snare in time, +and changing his character, took himself the part of questioner. Urged +by a pious zeal, he consulted the learned doctors on the most minute +cases of conscience, wished to know the differences, often +imperceptible, between the _Farz_ and the _Sunnet_, precepts of +obligation, and the _Tadjib_ and the _Mustahab_, simple religious +counsels. This artifice had complete success; many an obscure text +furnished material for an animated discussion, in which Vambéry never +lost an occasion of making a pompous eulogium of the Bokharist +oulemas, and loudly proclaiming their superiority. Then the judges, +gained to his cause, told the minister that he had committed a grave +mistake. Hadji Reschid was a very distinguished mollah, well prepared +to receive the divine inspiration, precious heritage of the saints. + +Vambéry, free henceforth from all fear, could study at leisure the +character and aptitudes of the people of Bokhara. This city, which is, +according to him, the Home of Islam, since Mecca and Medina represent +Jerusalem, is not a little proud of its religious supremacy. Though it +recognizes the spiritual authority of the Sultan, it does not, like +Khiva, blindly submit to it, and it hardly pardons the emperor for +permitting himself to be corrupted by the detestable influence of +Europeans. Our traveller, in his supposed quality of Turk, was +frequently obliged to defend Constantinople from the reproaches +addressed to him: "Why," demanded, for example, the fervent +Bokharists,--"why does not the sultan put to death all the Europeans +who live in his states? why does he not ordain every year a holy war +against the unbelievers?" Or again: "Why do not the Turks wear the +turban and the long robe which the law prescribes? Is not this a +frightful sin? and also, why have they not the long beard and short +moustache which the Prophet wore?" + +The emir Mozaffar ed Din watches carefully over the maintenance of the +sacred doctrines. Every city has its _Reïs_ or guardian of religion, +who, whip in hand, runs through the streets and public squares, +interrogating every one he meets upon the precepts of Islam. Woe to +the unhappy passenger taken in the flagrant crime of ignorance: if it +were a gray-headed old man he is also, all business ceasing, sent for +a fortnight to the benches of the school. A discipline equally +rigorous, obliges every one to go to the mosques at the hour of +prayer. Finally, the espionage of the Reïs does not stop at the +threshold of the private dwelling, and in the privacy of his family a +Bokharist takes care not to omit the least rite, or even to pronounce +the name of the emir without adding the sacramental formula, "May +Allah give him a hundred and twenty years of life!" It needs not to +say that all joy and gaiety are banished from social life, except the +momentary animation of the bazaar. Bokhara presents a sad and +monotonous aspect. During the day, every one fears perpetually to find +himself in the presence of a spy; in the evening, two hours after +sunset, the streets are deserted; no one ventures to visit a friend, +the sick may perish for want of help, for Mozaffar ed Din forbids any +one to go out under the most severe penalties. + +Nevertheless, this prince is generally beloved by his subjects: he is +strictly faithful to the policy of his predecessors, but they cannot +reproach {396} him with any crime, or arbitrary or cruel act. A pious +and instructed Mussulman, he has taken for device the word "justice," +and he conforms himself to it scrupulously. This Bokharist justice +might appear a little summary to Europeans, and the war against +Khokand, is not, as we shall see by-and-bye, just in the full +acceptation of the word, yet a prince of central Asia, educated in the +bosom of the most fiery fanaticism, must be judged with some +indulgence. It must be said in his praise, that if he is sometimes +lavish of the blood of his nobles, he spares at least that of the +poorer class, so that his people have surnamed him "the destroyer of +elephants, and the protector of, mice." + +A declared enemy of all innovation, the emir applies himself +especially to maintain the austere manners of the ancient Bokhara. The +importation of articles of luxury is forbidden, very rigorous +sumptuary laws regulate not only dress, but even the structure and +furniture of the dwellings. Mozaffar ed Din gives the first example of +the contempt of all luxury; he has reduced by half the number of his +servants; and one vainly seeks in his palace the least appearance of +princely pomp. The same simplicity resigns in the harem, the oversight +of which is intrusted to the mother and grandmother of the sovereign; +the wise direction of these two princesses merits for this sanctuary a +high reputation for chastity. Its doors, carefully closed to laics, +open only to the mollahs, whose sacred breathings bring with them only +happiness and piety. The sultanas, four in number, are accustomed to +the exercise of domestic virtues; their table is frugal, their dress +modest; they make their own garments and sometimes those of the emir, +who exercises over all expenses a minute control. + +Before quitting Bokhara, Vambéry wished to visit the tomb of Baveddin, +the supposed end of his long pilgrimage. + +This saint, the patron of Turkestan, is the object of profound +veneration throughout all Asia. They regard him as a second Mohammed; +and even from the heart of China, the faithful come in crowds to kiss +his relics. The sepulchre is in a little garden, near which they have +built a mosque; troops of blind, lame or paralytic beggars completely +obstruct the approach. In front of the mausoleum is found the famous +_Stone of Desire_, which has been much worn by the contact of the +foreheads of pilgrims; on the tomb are placed rams' horns, a banner, +and a broom sanctified by a long service in the temple of Mecca. Many +times they have tried to cover all with a dome, but Baveddin prefers +the open air, and always after three nights the buildings are thrown +down. At least such is the legend, related by the sheiks, descendants +of the saint. + + + +V. + +The two companions of Vambéry, Hadji Salih and Hadji Bilal, were +impatient to quit Bokhara in order to reach before winter the distant +province where they lived. Our traveller proposed to accompany them to +Samarcand; he wished to see this celebrated city, and anticipating an +interview with the emir, he wished to secure for himself the support +of the pilgrims. The day of departure the caravan was already much +reduced, being contained entirely in two carts. The European, +sheltered from the sun by a hanging of mats, expected to repose +comfortably in his rustic carriage, but this illusion was soon broken. +The violent jolting of the vehicle threw the pilgrims every instant +here and there, now against each other, now against the heavy +wagon-frame; their heads were beaten about like billiard-balls. "For +the first few hours," adds Vambéry, "I was literally sea-sick; I +suffered much more than when mounted upon the camel, the swaying of +which, {397} resembling the rolling of a ship, I had dreaded very +much." + +The travellers followed, at first a monotonous road; short, stinted +pastures extended everywhere to the horizon, but nothing justified the +marvellous stories of the inhabitants of the charming villages and +enchanted gardens which lie between Bokhara and Samarcand. The caravan +crossed the little desert of _Chol Melik_, and reached the next day +the district of Kermineh; there the landscape suddenly changes, +beautiful hamlets, grouped near each other, offer to the eye their +inns, before which the gigantic _samovar_ makes the traveller dream of +solace and comfort; their farms, surrounded by rich harvests, by +prairies where magnificent cattle feed, and by farm-yards sheltering +their feathered population. Everything breathed life and abundance, +and Vambéry could not contemplate without emotion this smiling +picture, which recalled his fertile Germany. + +After a journey of five days the hadjis arrived within sight of +Samarcand. Thanks to the remembrances of the past, and the distance +which separates it from Europe, the ancient capital of Timour excites +a lively curiosity. We will permit the Hungarian traveller to +describe, himself, this famous city. + +"Let the reader," says he, "take a seat beside me in my modest +carriage. He will perceive toward the east a high mountain, the +cupola-like summit of which is crowned by a small edifice; there +reposes Chobanata, the venerated patron of shepherds. Below extends +the city. Its circumference nearly equals that of Teheran, but it must +be much less populous, for the houses are much more scattered; on the +other hand its ruins and public monuments give it an air more grand +and imposing. The eye is first attracted by four lofty dome-like +buildings, which are the _midresses_ or colleges. Further on we +perceive a small, guttering dome, then toward the south another, +larger and more majestic; the first is the tomb, the second the mosque +of Timour. Just in front of us, at the extreme southwest of the city, +rises on a hill the citadel (_Ark_), itself surrounded by temples and +sepulchres, which define themselves against the blue sky. If now we +imagine all this intermingled with gardens of the most luxuriant +vegetation, we shall have an idea of Samarcand. A feeble and imperfect +idea, it is true, for the Persian proverb justly says 'It is one thing +to see and another to hear.' + +"Alas! why must we add that in entering this city all this prestige +vanishes, and gives place to a bitter disappointment? We were obliged +to cross the cemetery before reaching the inhabited quarters, and in +spite of myself, this line of a Persian poet, which to-day seems +tinged with a cruel irony, came to my mind? + + "Samarcand is the sun of the world." + +The same evening Vambéry and his companions were received in a house +very near the tomb of Timour. Our traveller was delighted to learn +that his host filled important functions near the Emir. The return of +this prince, who had just finished a victorious campaign in Khokand, +being expected very soon, Hadji Salih and Haji Bilal consented, out of +regard to their friend, to prolong their stay in Samarcand until +Vambéry had obtained an audience of Mozaffar ed Din, and found a +caravan with which he might return to Persia. While waiting the +pilgrims visited the ancient monuments of the city, which, in spite of +its miserable appearance, is the richest city in Central Asia in +historical remembrances. The plan of this sketch does not permit us to +follow the author in the details which he gives of these remarkable +buildings. We only cite. + +1. The summer palace of Timour, which preserves, even to-day, some +vestiges of its ancient magnificence. The apartment, to which we +ascend by a marble staircase of forty steps, {398} contains rich mural +paintings, made with colored bricks, and the pavement, entirely of +mosaic, preserves the freshness and brilliancy of the first day. + +2. The citadel, where we admire in a vast apartment called "Timour's +audience-hall," the celebrated _Köktash_ (green stone) upon which was +placed the throne of the famous conqueror. + +3. The tomb of Timour, surmounted by a very beautiful stone of deep +green, two spans and a half wide, ten long, and of the thickness of +six fingers. Not far from this a black stone shades the sepulchre of +_Mir Seid Berke_, the spiritual director of the emir, near whom the +powerful monarch wished to be buried. In the vaults of this mausoleum +is preserved a copy of the Koran written upon gazelle skin, by the +hand of Osman, the secretary and successor of Mohammed. + +4. The _Midusses_, of which many, entirely abandoned, are falling into +ruin; others, yet flourishing, are maintained with care. The most +remarkable is that of Tillakair, so called from its golden ornaments. + +The new city is much smaller than the ancient capital of Timour; it +has six gates, and several bazaars where they sell at a very low price +manufactured articles, confessedly of European workmanship. Vambéry, +without thinking, like the Tartars, that "Samarcand resembles +Paradise," still found it quite superior to other Turcoman cities, by +the beauty of its situation, the splendor of its monuments, and the +richness of its vegetation. + +Meanwhile, days passed and the emir did not arrive, the caravan which +was to take Vambéry back prepared to start, when the conqueror of +Khokand at last made his triumphant entry. Mozaffar ed Din, following +the unscrupulous policy adopted in the east, had organized a vast +conspiracy against the sovereign of the rival khanat; then hired +assassins, by his orders, delivered him from his enemies; and +profiting by the confusion thus caused, Mozaffar succeeded in making +himself master of the capital. At this news Samarcand burst into +transports of joy, the people considered Mozaffar as a new Timour, who +was about to reduce successively under his dominion, China, Persia, +Afghanistan, India, and Europe; in their warlike ardor the Turcomen +saw already the world divided between their prince and the Sultan of +Constantinople. Nor must we be so much surprised that the taking of +Khokand had so greatly excited them; this city, four times as large, +they say, as Teheran, is the capital of a powerful khanat, which has +for a long time remained in a state of perpetual hostility to the +Bokharists. But one foresees that the Russian government will soon +establish peace between these two enemies, in assuming the part of the +judge in the fable. It slowly pursues its end, sows division, and +already its bayonets have subjected Tashkend, the most western city of +Khokand, and equally important in a commercial and military point of +view. + +At the period when Vambéry visited Samarcand, the intoxication of the +victory obtained by the emir dispelled all gloom; the Europeans and +their encroachments were forgotten in the noisy rejoicings. The happy +return of Mozaffar ed Din was celebrated by a national festival, in +which rice, mutton, tallow, and tea were distributed to the people +with royal prodigality; the next day, the emir having granted his +subjects a public audience, our traveller seized the occasion to be +presented. Accompanied by his friends the pilgrims, he was preparing +to enter the palace, when a Mehrem stopped him, saying that his +Majesty desired to see the hadji of Constantinople alone. "We were +extremely alarmed," relates Vambéry; "this distinction seemed to us an +ill omen. Nevertheless, I followed the officer with a firm step. He +introduced me into a spacious hall, where I perceived the emir seated +upon an ottoman, and surrounded with books and manuscripts of all +sorts. I did not suffer myself to be intimidated by the cold and +severe air of the {399} prince, and after having recited a short +_sura_, followed by the habitual prayer for the sovereign, I seated +myself without asking permission near the royal person. He did not +appear offended, for my character of dervish authorized this conduct, +but he fixed upon me his great black eyes with a suspicious and +interrogatory air, as if he would read to the bottom of my soul. +Fortunately, for a long time I have lost the habit of blushing, +therefore I sustained this scrutiny with coolness. + +"Hadji," at last the emir said to me, "you have come from Turkey, I +understand, to visit the tombs of Baveddin and the saints of +Turkestan?" + +"'Yes, Takhsir' (Your Majesty), but I wished also to refresh myself +with the sight of your divine beauty.' + +"'It is very strange! how, have you no other motive for undertaking so +long a journey?' + +"'No, Takhsir; I have always had an ardent desire to behold the noble +Bokhara, the enchanting Samarcand, the sacred soil of which, according +to the remark of the sheikh Djilal, ought to be trodden with the head +rather than with the feet. I have beside no other business in this +world, and for a long time I have wandered about like a pilgrim of the +universe.' + +"A pilgrim of the universe! you, with your lame leg!' + +"'Remember, Takhsir, that your glorious ancestor Timour, [Footnote +63] peace be with him, had the same infirmity, which did not hinder +him from being the conqueror of the universe.' + + [Footnote 63: This prince, from whom the emirs of Bokhara pretend to + descend, was lame, from whence came the surname of Timonr-leuk, or + Timour the lame, of which we make Tamerlan (Fr.), Tamerlane (Eng.) ] + +"These words charmed the emir; he addressed to me various questions +relating to my journey, asking the impression which Bokhara and +Samarcand had made upon me. My answers, all wrapped in Persian +sentences and verses of the Koran, gained the confidence of the +prince. Before dismissing me, he gave an order to remit to me a +complete suit of clothes, and to count me out thirty tenghes." + +Vambéry, much elated, hastened to inform his friends of the result of +the interview; they advised him not to count too surely on the royal +protection, and not to defer his departure. It cost him much to quit +these good dervishes, generous and devoted hearts, the faithful +companions of his hours of suffering. The bold explorer, the witty and +sarcastic writer, full of pungent humor, here finds words which +indicate deep feeling "I cannot describe," says he, "the emotion with +which we parted. For six months, we had lived the same life, shared +the same perils; perils in the midst of the burning sands of the +desert, perils from the savage Turcomen, perils from the inclemency of +nature and the elements. Differences of age, of position, of +nationality, had disappeared; we were members of one family. Now we +were to separate, never to meet again; death could not have parted us +more widely, nor left in our souls a deeper grief. My heart +overflowed, and I sobbed aloud, when I thought that even in this +supreme hour, I could not confide to these men, my best, my dearest +friends, the secret of my disguise. I must deceive those to whom I +owed my life. This thought caused me a real remorse: I sought, but in +vain, an occasion for bringing out the dangerous confidence." + +How, in fact, could he tell these pious pilgrims, zealous believers, +that the friend whose religious learning they had admired, whose faith +and virtue they respected, was an impostor, who, urged by the thirst +for secular learning, had surprised their confidence, profaned their +ministry, had trifled, in a word, with their dearest sentiments? Such +an avowal might not, perhaps, have broken the bonds of affection which +united him to the two dervishes, but what a bitter deception for these +fervent and sincere souls t {400} And why destroy an illusion so +sweet? Vambéry retained the secret ready to escape him; his eyes +swimming in tears, he tore himself from the embraces of his friends. +"I see them always," he adds, "motionless in the place where I had +quitted them, the hands raised toward heaven, imploring the blessing +of Allah for my journey. Many times I turned my head to see them +again; at last they disappeared in the fog, and I could distinguish +only the domes of Samarcand, feebly lighted by the rays of the moon." + +The journey home was marked by fewer dramatic incidents. Vambéry had +to cross the country of Bokhara, but avoiding the capital, he arrived +after three days at Karshi, the second city of the khanat in extent +and commercial relations. It contains six caravansaries and a +well-supplied market, where are seen very remarkable articles of +native cutlery, which are largely exported into central Asia, Persia, +Arabia, and even into Turkey. These fine blades, richly damaskeened, +the handles covered with incrustations of gold and silver, are far +superior to the best products of Sheffield or Birmingham. Vambéry's +new companions advised him to use such funds as he had left, in +purchasing knives, needles, and glass-ware, the exchange of which +would secure a pilgrim the means of existence among the nomad tribes. +Our traveller thought it best to follow this prudent counsel, and add, +as he gaily remarks, "the profession of merchant to that of antiquary, +hadji and mollah, without prejudice to a crowd of not less important +functions, such as bestowing benedictions, holy breathings, amulets, +and talismans." + +The caravan passed through Bokhara without disturbance; the rigor with +which the emir enforces the police regulations rendering all the roads +from across the desert perfectly secure, not only for caravans, but +even for individual travellers. Vambéry could hardly contain his joy +in crossing the frontier: at every step he approached the West; he was +about to revisit Persia, the first stage of civilization, the object +of his ardent desires. Other members of the caravan were not less +impatient, these were Iranian slaves, returning to their own country. +One of them, an old man, bent under the weight of years, had been to +Bokhara to pay the ransom of his son, the only support of his family, +the price demanded was fifty ducats, and the poor father had exhausted +his resources in the payment. "But," said he, "better to fear the +staff of the beggar than to leave my son in chains." Another of these +unhappy men greatly excited Vambéry's compassion; his wasted features, +and hair prematurely white, proved sufficiently his sufferings, eight +years previous, a Turcoman raid had carried away his wife, his sister +and his six children; the unfortunate man pursued them, vainly sought +them in the two Khanats of Khiva and Bokhara; when at last he +discovered the place of their captivity, his wife, his sister and two +children had perished under the rigors of slavery. Of the four who +remained he was able to ransom only two; the others having become men, +their master exacted so heavy a ransom that the unhappy father was +unable to raise the sum. + +These instances give but a faint idea of the scourge which has for +centuries depopulated the north of Persia and neighboring countries. +The Turcomen Tekkes number to-day more than fifteen thousand mounted +plunderers, whose only occupation consists in organizing a system of +vast brigandage, to decimate families and ravage hamlets. The +travellers crossed whole districts desolated by war and exactions of +all sorts; the laws are powerless to repress disorders, a bribe +suffices to exculpate one from the most odious crime; therefore every +one speaks with admiration of Bokhara, whose emir is regarded as a +model of justice and wisdom. An inhabitant of Audkuy acknowledged that +his compatriots envied the happiness of being {401} subject to the +sceptre of Mozaffar ed Din, and added that the Europeans would be +preferable to the present Mussulman chiefs. + +Meanwhile, the journey was long, and Vambéry saw with anxiety his +little package of merchandise diminish. He hoped to obtain assistance +at Herat; but unfortunately, when they arrived in this city, the key +of central Asia, it had just been put to sack by the Afghans. The +fortifications and houses were only a heap of ruins, the citadel +trembled, half demolished upon its crumbling base, some few +inhabitants here and there showed themselves, the celebrated bazaar, +which had stood so many sieges, alone offered some animation, but the +shops were opened timidly, the remembrance of the foray still +terrifying the people. Moreover, the custom-house system, established +by the rapacity of the Afghans, promises little prosperity either to +commerce or industry, an article of fur which has been purchased for 8 +francs, pays 3 francs tax; they levy one franc upon a hat of the value +of two francs, and so of every thing else. When we add to that, for +articles brought from distant provinces, the rights already collected +in intermediate districts, we see how much the merchant must raise his +price in order to realize anything. + +In a city so ravaged, the trade of a dervish is not lucrative; no one +asked Vambéry for his holy breathing, his cutlery and pearls were +exhausted; his travelling companions, very different from Hadji Bilal, +lent him no help. Only one young man named Ishak, remained faithful to +him. Every morning he begged the food for the day, and prepared the +frugal repasts of our traveller, whom he regarded as his master, and +served with affectionate respect. + +In order to neglect nothing which might enable him to continue his +journey, Vambéry resolved to apply to the Viceroy of Herat, Serdar +Mehemmed Yakoub, the son of the King of Afghanistan. The halls of the +palace were filled with servants and soldiers; but the large turban of +the pretended dervish, and the hermit-like air which long fatigues had +given him, were letters of recommendation which opened all doors. The +prince, not more than sixteen years old, sate in a large easy chair, +surrounded by high dignitaries. Vambéry, faithful to his character, +went directly to him, and sat by his side, pushing aside the vizier to +make himself a place. This behavior excited general hilarity. Serdar +Mehemmed regarded the stranger attentively, then rose suddenly, and +cried, half-laughing, half-bewildered: "You are an Englishman, I'll +take my oath!" He approached our traveller, clapping his hands like a +child who has made a happy discovery: "Say, say," added he, "are you +not an Englishman?" In the presence of this innocent joy, Vambéry had +half a mind to discover himself, but remembering that the fanaticism +of the Afghans might yet expose him to great perils, he resolved not +to raise the mask which protected him. Taking, then, a serious air: +"That will do," said he to the prince, "have you then forgotten this +proverb--'He who even in joke treats a true believer as an infidel, +makes himself worse than an infidel?' Give me rather something for my +benediction, that I may have the means of pursuing my journey." +Vambéry's look, and the maxim which he so appropriately recalled, put +the young viceroy out of countenance. He stammered some excuses, +alleging the singular physiognomy of the stranger, which was not of +the Bokhariot type. Vambéry hastened to reply that he was a native of +Stamboul; he showed to Serdar Mehemmed and to the vizier his Turkish +passport, spoke of an Afghan prince residing in Constantinople, and +succeeded in completely effacing the impression which he had at first +made. + +The 15th of November, 1868, the grand caravan which was going to +Meshed, left Herat, taking with it our traveller. It comprised not +less than two thousand persons, at least {402} half of whom were +Afghans, who, in spite of the most frightful misery, had undertaken, +with their families, a pilgrimage to the tombs of the Shiite saints. +In proportion as Vambéry approached civilization, he let fall little +by little the veil of his incognito, and let it be understood that in +Meshed he should find powerful protectors, and financial resources +which would enable him to recompense the services of his companions. +The doubtful light which surrounded him furnished inexhaustible matter +for conjecture, and gave rise to some lively discussions, which very +much amused Vambéry. At last, twelve days after leaving Herat, the +dome of the mosque, and the tomb of Iman-Riza, gilded by the first +rays of the sun, announced the approach to Meshed. The sight caused +the European deep emotion, his dangerous exploring expedition was +finished, and he had no further need of disguise. In passing the gates +of the city he forgot the Turcoman, the desert, the Tebbad, to think +of the happiness of seeing friendly faces, and of speaking at his ease +of Europe. He passed successively through Meshed, Teheran, and +Constantinople, where he bade adieu to Oriental life; then through +Pesth, where he left his Turcoman companion, the faithful Ishak, who +had followed him even to Europe, and the 9th of June, 1864, he arrived +in London. + +Singular force of habit. Vambéry had so identified himself with the +character of a learned effendi, he was so impregnated with Asiatic +manners and customs, that this son of Germany found himself ill at +ease in England. "It cost me," says he, "incredible difficulty to +accustom myself to my new life, so different from that which I had led +at Bokhara some months previous. Everything in London seemed strange +and novel; one would have said that the remembrances of my youth were +a dream; only my travels had left upon my mind a deep impression. Is +it astonishing that sometimes in Regent street or in the saloons of +the English aristocracy I felt myself as embarrassed as a child, and +that often I forgot everything around me to dream of the profound +solitudes of central Asia, of the tents of the Kirghiz and the +Turcomen?" + +Vambéry's book paints in vivid colors the real condition of central +Asia; it contains curious and characteristic details regarding the +three khanats of Turkestan (Khiva, Bokhara, and Khokand), on the +particular manners of each people, the commerce and industry of the +cities. We follow there the slow but continuous progress of the +Russian government, whose ambition is excited by the riches of these +fertile provinces. It advances with persevering obstinacy toward the +conquest of Turkestan, the only country which is wanting to-day to the +immense Asiatic kingdom dreamed of, four centuries ago, by Ivan +Vasilievitch. Since that period the czars have never lost an +opportunity to extend their influence in the Orient. Russia maintains +with the khanats regular and active commercial relations; her +exportations into central Asia were valued in 1850 at twenty-five +millions of francs, and her importations from thence at not less than +thirty-three millions. England, whose possessions in India approach +Turkestan, has not taken so deep root there, she understands less the +tastes, and submits less to the exigencies, of the Tartar populations. +At the same time, the protection which she gives the Afghans, the +declared enemies of the Khivites and Bokhariots, gives her a part to +play in the events which are preparing, and which the taking of +Tashkend by Russian troops will perhaps precipitate. + +Central Asia is destined to be absorbed by one or other of the rival +powers which every day embrace her more closely. Will she be Russian +or English? that is the only form the question takes to-day. + +{403} + +Persia and Turkey, tottering themselves, cannot protect her. The grand +contest, commenced centuries ago, between the two hostile +civilizations, between the sword of Mohammed and the cross of Christ, +to-day touches its term. Of the different oriental tribes, these +endeavor to revive themselves by the contact of our arts and sciences, +those intrench themselves behind their mountains and their deserts; +but these powerless barriers cannot hinder European activity from +reaching them. They are, moreover, condemned to inevitable ruin by +barbarism, superstition, and fatalism, which form the basis of their +character and their creeds, the populations, bent under an implacable +despotism, consider even the encroachments of Europeans as a benefit, +their faith, moreover, delivers them without defence to misfortune, to +tyranny, to the joke of the stranger, for it persuades them that an +inflexible destiny, against which the will of man is powerless, rules +the lot of individuals and nations. "Who can prevail agamst the +Nasib?" said to Vambéry an unfortunate man whose wife and children had +been carried off. "It was written!" replied the Mussulmans when their +most beautiful provinces were snatched from them. + +The European race, on the contrary, energetic and indefatigable, makes +all obstacles yield before it; its science and industry transform +nature into a docile instrument; difficulties stimulate its courage: +"This sea I will cross," it cries; "I will level this mountain; this +people, reputed invincible, I will subjugate." From antiquity it had +raised upon its flag this proud device, which made the grandeur of the +Roman world: "Audaces fortuna juvat." Afterward, Christianity, in +elevating minds, and pouring upon all hearts sentiments of tenderness +and charity heretofore unknown, brought new elements to this expansive +force. It showed God respecting, even in their errors, the liberty of +men; it showed the sacrifice of Jesus, this Son of the Most High come +upon earth to suffer all griefs, yet voluntarily powerless to save man +without his concurrence and his own participation. This noble morality +not only regenerated consciences, it developed individual action, made +known the value of the hidden force which we call the will, and +contributed largely to the social and political progress of the +western nations. At the same time, it is true, the Christian dogma +preached resignation in sufferings, but this pious resignation +resembles as little the oriental indolence as the calm of death +resembles that of strength and health. + +Such are the causes of European supremacy. The Asiatics, not less +gifted by nature, have stifled, under the double influence of fatalism +and a sensual morality, the germs of civilization which might have +given them a durable life and glory. To-day, as we learn from the +intrepid traveller who has penetrated into the very heart of Turkestan +and returned again safe and sound, everything among them is in decay; +their cities and institutions, alike, offer nothing but ruins. + +------ + +{404} + + +From The Lamp, + +UNCONVICTED; OR, OLD THORNELEY'S HEIRS. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + "Mr. Thorneley presents his compliments to Mr. John Kavanagh, and + would feel obliged if he would call in Wimpole street this evening + at seven o'clock. Mr. Thorneley wishes to have Mr. Kavanagh's + professional assistance in a matter of business. + + "100 Wimpole street, Cavendish Square, + "Oct. 23, 185--" + +The above note lay amidst a heap of letters awaiting my return from a +pleasant mountaineering tour among alps and glaciers, perpetual snows, +and ice-bound passes. Yes, it had been in every sense of the word a +delightful excursion, a real holiday to me,--me, a dusty, musty, +hard-working lawyer, living in chambers, poring over parchments, and +deeds, and matters dull and dry to all, save them whom those things +concerned,--me, a middle-aged bachelor, a solitary man, with little of +kith or kin left to surround my dying bed or follow my old bones to +their grave. It was a renewal of youth and early days to climb those +mountains, to face those majestic peaks, to scale those rugged passes, +and feel the fresh clear air fanning my brow as I raised it to God's +heaven above, whilst all that was of the world worldly seemed to lie +beneath my feet. My two months' holiday and repose from labor, when I +packed my modest portmanteau, locked up my papers, left my rooms to +the care of clerk and laundress, and took my ticket at London Bridge +for Dover or Boulogne, bound for Chamouni, Unterwalden, or the +Simplon,--these eight weeks of pure enjoyment were the oasis in the +desert of my life. But now, for this year at least, it was over. I was +back to busy life again; to work and daily duty; to my calf-bound +volumes, my inky table, my yellow sheets inscribed with the promises +of one said party to another said party--how soon to be broken, God +only knew--or the blue folio pages stating how this said man is to +bully that said fellow man, and how there is to be war between two +Christian beings, not to the knife, but to the bar, the judge, jury, +prison, and future ruin of one or the other fellow heir to the great +inheritance of a hereafter. I had returned to it all--this turmoil of +strife and struggle, out of which quagmire I got my daily bread, like +hundreds of others cruising in the same barque on the sea of life; and +my table was heaped with the business correspondence that once more +was to induct me into my ordinary avocations. There were +communications from old clients about affairs of long standing, and +familiar to me as my morning shave; and letters from new clients +promising fresh labor and new grist to the mill, but I scanned them +all with the same feeling of weariness and disgust--casting many a +regretful thought to the scenes I had left behind me,--inclined to +throw business, law, and clients wholesale and pell-mell into the Red +Sea. It was in this frame of mind that I opened the above note, but as +I read it, my ennui and lassitude gave place to the keenest interest +and curiosity. That old Thorneley should send for me professionally, +when I knew for certain that all his affairs were completely in the +hands, and he entirely under the thumbs, of my highly-respected +brother lawyers Smith and Walker, was enough to rouse one from a +mesmeric sleep. Old Thorneley; who {405} lived like a hermit, never +meddling with anything nor anybody; whose last intentions were +supposed amongst us in Lincoln's Inn to be hermetically sealed up in a +certain tin box, lodging at Messrs. Smith and Walker's; whose frugal +house-keeping and simple taste could involve him in no pecuniary +trouble,--what could he want with the professional advice of one who +was almost a stranger to him, whose standing in the law was of much +later date and whose clientage much less distinguished than that of +the firm above mentioned, and who had been his legal advisers during +his whole lifetime? + +Again I referred to the note--"Oct. 23;"--the interview was asked for +that very evening I looked at my watch--it was half-past six, the hour +named, seven. Tired with travel and hungry as a hunter, I was little +inclined to leave my cosy fire, my tender steak, my fragrant cup of +bohea, my delicious plate of buttered toast, and face the raw air and +mizzling rain of an autumnal evening at the beck of a man whose hand I +had never shaken, at whose table I had never sat, and whose foot had +never crossed my threshold. But curiosity and interest prevailed at +last, and these were induced by two motives. 1. Thorneley was a +millionaire--a man whose name Rothschild had not scorned on 'Change, +and whose breath had once fluttered the money-markets of Europe. 2. +And a far more powerful one,--he was the uncle of Hugh Atherton. O +Hugh, best of friends, thou man of true and noble heart, if these +pages ever meet your eyes, and you look back through the dim vista of +intervening years, bear witness how mournfully I stand by the grave of +our buried affection, opened on this night, how tenderly I touch the +fragments of our wrecked friendship! and from your heart, O lost +comrade and brother, believe that, whatever of pain lay between us +two, severing our lives, no thought disloyal to you ever crossed my +soul or shook the fealty of my honor and reverence. Hastily I +despatched the meal, made a few changes in my dress, threw myself into +the first hansom, and knocked at 100 Wimpole street, at five minutes +past seven. + +I was ushered at once into Mr. Thorneley's study--a +comfortably-furnished room, lined with well-stocked bookcases, and +hung with neatly-framed engravings of first-rate excellence. He was +sitting reading beside a cheery fire when I entered, and on a table +near him stood fruit, biscuits, and wine. I had not seen him for many +months; and as he rose to receive me, the light of the shaded gas lamp +falling upon his head and face revealed to me how aged and broken his +appearance had become in that period of time. Then I remembered him as +a hale, hearty old man, strong of limb, straight and square about the +shoulders, carrying himself with the air of an old soldier, gaunt, +upright, stern, unbending and unbent. Now, before me stood a bowed +infirm figure, with trembling hands and tottering feet, with thin +pinched features and sunken eyes. Little as I knew the man, and little +as I liked what I knew or had heard of him, I was touched to see what +a wreck he looked of his former outward self. Involuntarily I +stretched out my hand to him, and expressed my regret at seeing him +look so ill. He bowed, and touched my hand with the tips of his +fingers, which were clammy and cold. Then he motioned me in silence to +a chair on the opposite side of the fire to where he sat, and resumed +his own seat. + +"You are somewhat late, sir," he said querulously, glancing at me from +beneath his shaggy brows; the same keen searching glance I remembered +of old--the glance of a man who has made money. + +"But five minutes, Mr. Thorneley," I replied; "and that I think you +will excuse when I tell you I have crossed the Channel to-day, and +only arrived home about an hour ago." + +"Have you dined? Allow the to order you something." + +{406} + +"Nothing, thanks. I took my usual meal after a journey--a meat tea; +and, though despatched in haste, it sufficed for mine requirements." + +"At least," he said more courteously, "you will take a glass of wine!" + +"With pleasure, sir, after we have finished the business in which I +understand you require my assistance." + +He saw that I wished to come to the point at once; and drawing his +chair near to mine, he fixed his piercing gray eyes upon my +countenance. I returned his gaze steadily enough; and he then shifted +uneasily, so that his countenance was turned sideways to me. + +"You are aware, Mr. Kavanagh, that my family solicitors have been, and +still are, Messrs. Smith and Walker, and no doubt you are surprised +why I should now require other professional aid than theirs. Your +curiosity and speculative faculties, if you possess such, must have +been on the _qui vive_ since you got my note. Eh, sir?" + +There was a covert sarcasm in the old man's voice which vexed me. +"Every movement of Mr Thorneley's must be a matter of general +interest," I said, with equal satire. + +"Ha, ha, ha! Very good--given me back in my own kind,--tit for tat. +Like you all the better for it, Mr. Kavanagh,--a sharp lawyer is a +good thing in its way. Well, you've not repudiated the curiosity, so +I'll satisfy it. I sent for you to make _my Will_;" and again he +turned on me those shrewd glittering eyes, as if enjoying the +amazement I could not entirely suppress. + +"But I thought--" I stammered; "surely, sir, your own lawyers are the +fittest persons; it is against etiquette. Indeed, sir, I'd rather not +have any thing to do with it." + +"You will be _paid_ sir," he said rudely. + +"It is not a question of _payment_, Mr. Thorneley; simply, you place +me, I foresee, in an awkward position with regard to a firm with whom +I am on the most friendly terms. But of course they are acquainted +with your desire of having my services?" + +"Of course they are nothing of the sort. If you are squeamish in the +matter, I can get another man to do my business, and they'll not be a +bit more enlightened on the subject. Whomsoever I employ must be bound +to inviolable secrecy during my lifetime. Let us understand each +other, Mr. Kavanagh: I sent for you because I knew you to be a +discreet man, on whose prudence after my death I could rely. But I do +not choose that Smith and Walker should know any thing of this +transaction. You can do as you please in the matter, but you must make +your decision now." + +I gave a rapid glance at my position with all the care time would +allow; and one consideration outweighed every thing else,--I take +heaven to witness it!--the thought that Hugh Atherton's interests, +which I felt to be now involved, would be safer in my hands than in +those of any other man; and I replied, "So be it, Mr. Thorneley; you +may command my services." If I had known what was coming; if in mercy +one shadowy vision of that miserable future had been vouchsafed to me; +if but a ray of light had illumined my darkened sight, I had shaken +the dust off my feet, and left that doomed house never again to cross +its threshold. + +Thorneley rose and pushed a small writing-table towards me, on which +was placed the printed form of a will to be filled in. + +"Are you ready?" he asked. + +"I am." + +He bent forward, with his hand shading his rugged brow, his eyes fixed +intently on the fire and spoke in low distinct tones. I listened +almost breathlessly; and as I listened, I felt the cold sweat breaking +out upon my forehead. And then I made the will. Yes, God help me! I +made the will, for I saw it was inevitable. + +{407} + +"We must have witnesses," I said when it was finished. + +Mr. Thorneley rang the bell. "Tell Thomas I want him here, and come +back yourself." The two men returned in a few moments,--coachman and +footman; and before those two, with unshaken hand, with a face of +rigid firmness, Gilbert Thorneley wrote his name; the servants affixed +their signatures, and the deed was done. + +When we were alone I rose to depart, and bade him good-night. As I +left the room I looked back at the old man. He had sunk in his chair, +and his face was buried in his hands, bowed and bent beside the fire, +with his thin gray locks straying over his forehead, as if some bitter +blast had swept over him and left him desolate;--thus I saw him for +the last time on earth. + +I left that house with a heavy secret locked in my breast, with a +weight on heart and brain, and heeded not the blinding, drizzling rain +as I bent my footsteps rapidly homeward, longing only to reach my +quiet chamber, where I might commune with myself and be still. I am +not an inveterate smoker; but when I want to think out a knotty point, +when I wish to obtain a clear view of any difficult question, I can +quite appreciate the aid which a good cigar affords one. This night I +was dazed, bewildered, and mechanically I sought my old friend in my +breast-pocket. I stopped beside the window of a large chemist's shop +at the comer of Vere street and Oxford street to strike a light, when +some one hastily passed out of the shop and ran full against me. + +"Kavanagh!" "Atherton!" The man of all men in the world to meet _that_ +night! What fatality was it that was hedging me in and fencing me +round, without any agency of my own? + +"Who would have thought of seeing you here?" he exclaimed as he +grasped my hand. "I had no idea you had returned even." + +"I came back this very evening." + +"Only this evening! and whither away so soon, old fellow?" + +I muttered something about business. + +"Business! Come, I like that. You have changed your nature, John, if +you go after business the first evening of your return from +Switzerland. Why, I didn't suppose you would have stirred if my old +uncle yonder had sent for you to make his will, leaving me his sole +heir." And he laughed his old hearty joyous laugh, which had been +music to me from the time when I fought his first battle for him at +Rugby. Now it filled me with an unaccountable dread; now it fell on my +ear as the knell of times which were never more to come back. So near +the truth too as he had been, talking in his own thoughtless, +light-hearted way. What spell was over us all that fatal evening? +Perhaps--I think it must have been so--all the dark shadows which were +gathering over my soul revealed themselves in my countenance, for I +saw him look at me with the kind solicitous look that never became a +manly face better than his. + +"I'll tell you what it is, dear old John," he said, putting his arm +within mine; "you are looking terribly hipped about something or +another, and any thing but the man you ought to look, after such a +jolly outing as you've just had. Come, I'll go home with you, and +we'll have a prime Manilla, a steaming tumbler, and a cosy chat +together; and if that doesn't send the blues back to the venerable old +party from which they are generally supposed by all good Christians to +come, why, as Mr. Peggotty hath it, 'I'm gormed!' "And again that +fatal influence stepped in, making me its agent to bring upon us the +inevitable _To be_; and putting his friendly hand from off my arm, I +said, '"No, Hugh, not to-night; I have need to be alone. Indeed I am +too tired to be good company even to you." + +"Well, good-night then, my friend; I'll betake me to mine uncle, and +see {408} how the old man is getting along this damp weather. Lister +said he should look in, so we can tramp home together. But I won't be +shirked by you to-morrow, Master Jack,--don't think it; and I shall +bring somebody to fetch the Swiss toy I know you have got packed away +for her somewhere in your knapsack. Good-night, good-night." + +We shook hands, and he turned down Vere street. An impulse,--blind, +unreasoning,--seized me a minute afterwards to call him back and ask +him to come home with me; and I followed quickly upon his footsteps. +The evening was very dark, and the rain beat blindingly in one's face, +so that it was difficult, with my near sight, to distinguish his +figure ahead amidst the numerous other foot-passengers. After a few +moments I gave up the chase, half angry with myself for haying been +the sport of a sudden fancy. As once more I turned round to retrace my +steps, a woman passed me at a hurried pace, and as she passed she +almost stopped and gazed intently at me. A thick veil prevented my +seeing her face, and in no way was her figure familiar to me; but the +gesture with which she stared at me was remarkable, and for a moment a +matter of wonder; then I forgot the circumstance, and rapidly made my +way home, thinking of the strange revelations I had just heard; +thinking of Hugh Atherton and our chance meeting; thinking of the days +past and the days to come,--of much and many things which belong to +the story I am telling,--of the time when I was a boy again at school, +senior in my form and umpire in all pitched battles and the petty +warfare boys wage with one another, when that little curly-headed, +blue-eyed fellow, with his cheeks all aglow and his nostrils big with +indignant wrath, had come to me, a great burly clumsy lad of sixteen, +and laid his plaint before me: + +"Please, Kavanagh, the fellows say I'm a coward because I won't lick +Tom Overbury. Will you tell them to leave me in peace?--because I +_won't_ lick him." + +"Why not, spooney?" + +"Because I don't wish to." + +"That won't go down here, you know, Atherton; you must give your +reasons." + +"He's got something the matter with his right arm, and he can't hit +out. He'd have no chance against me. I know all about it, but the +other fellows don't, and they think he can't fight; he bade me not +tell any one. That's why they are always at him to make him pick +quarrels. They set him on at me; but I won't fight him, not for the +whole school, masters and all." + +Such was Hugh Atherton as a boy; such was he as a man,--ever generous +and noble-hearted. I thought of him as then, I thought of him as now, +remembering all our long friendship, our close intimacy, with the +weight of that dread secret upon me, and with the indescribable sense +of coming evil clinging to me. I wished I had yielded to his request, +and allowed him to accompany me home; I wished I had persevered in +going after him; in short, I wished anything but what then was. Were +those desires troubling me a taste of the vain, futile, heart-bitter +wishes which the morrow was to bring forth? So, with the cold wind +whistling round me, and scattering the dead leaves across the desolate +square, where stood the house wherein I dwelt, the rain beating +against my face, and the sky above black and lowering, I reached my +home, wet and weary. + +Methodical habits to a man brought up to the law, who has any pretence +of doing well in his profession, become like second nature; and when I +had divested myself of my wet garments, I took out my journal and made +an entry as usual of the date, object, etc., of my visit to Mr. +Thorneley; and then I wrote out a brief memorandum of the same, which +I addressed to Hugh Atherton in case of my death, and carefully locked +it up with some {409} very private papers of my own, about which he +already had my instructions. This done, I smoked a cigar, drank a +tumbler of hot brandy-and-water, and went to bed, thoroughly tired +out. But I could not sleep. For hours I tossed restlessly from side to +side; now and then catching a few moments' repose, which was disturbed +by the most horrible and distressing dreams. Toward morning, I +suppose, I must at last have fallen into a deep slumber--so profound +that I never heard the old laundress's hammering at the door, nor the +arrival of my clerk, nor the postman's knock. + +At last I awoke, or rather was awakened. The day had advanced some +hours; all traces of last night's rain seemed to have vanished, and +the sun shown full and bright in at the windows. Beside my bed stood +Hardy, my old clerk. + +"God bless you, sir, I thought you'd never wake!" + +"I wish I never had, for I am awfully tired. How are you. Hardy? and +how is all going on?" + +"Quite well, sir, thank you; and I hope you're the same. We've wanted +you badly enough. There's that Williams, he's been here almost every +day, teasing and tormenting about having his mortgage called in; and +Lady Ormskirk, she called twice, and seemed in some trouble. Then +there was a queer young chap from the country with a long case about +some inheritance; in short, sir, if you had been at home we might have +been no end busy--what with the old ones and what with the new;" and +Hardy cast a sigh after the possible tips and fees of which my absence +had deprived him. + +"Well, I'll see to it all as soon as I have dressed and had some +breakfast. I suppose they've brought it up, and also the hot water?" + +"Some time ago, sir; you slept so late that I ventured to come in." + +"All right. I shall be ready directly." + +Hardy still lingered, and I knew by his face there was some news +coming. + +"There's a fine to-do at Smith and Walker's, sir, this morning. I just +met their head-clerk as I was coming here." + +I sprang up in bed as if I had been shot, the old fancies and dread of +the previous night returning with full force. + +"Smith and Walker's!" I cried; "what is the matter there?" + +"Well, sir, I couldn't quite make out the particulars, he was in such +a hurry; but old Mr. Thorneley's been found dead in his room this +morning, and they suspect there has been foul play. Mr. +Griffiths--that's the clerk--was going off to Scotland Yard. It's a +terrible thing, an't it, sir, to be hurried off so quick? and none of +the best of lives too, if one may believe what folks say. It's shocked +you, sir, I see; and so it did me, for I thought of Mr. Atherton and +what a blow like it would be to him." + +Whiter and whiter I felt my face was getting, and a feeling of dead +sickness seized me. The man whom I had seen and spoken with but such +few short hours since lay dead! the secret of whose life I possessed, +knowing what I now knew of him, and what had been left untold hanging +like a black shadow of doubt around me; he was gone from whence there +was no returning,--he was standing face to face with his Creator and +his Judge! + +By this time Hardy had left the room, and I proceeded hastily to dress +myself, feeling that more was coming than I wotted of then, and that +the fearful storm which was gathering would quickly burst. + +Scarcely was I dressed when I heard a loud double-knock at the +office-door, and directly after Hardy's voice demanding admittance. I +opened my door. + +"Sir, there is a police-officer who wishes to see you immediately." + +I went out into the sitting-room. A detective in plain clothes was +there; I had known the man in another business formerly. + +"What do you want with me, Jones?" + +{410} + +"You have heard of Mr. Thorneley being found dead, sir?" + +"Yes--my clerk has just told me. What did he die of?" + +"He was poisoned, Mr. Kavanagh." + +I felt the man's eyes were fixed on me as if he could read in my soul +and see the fearful dread therein. I could have hurled him from the +window. + +"Who is suspected?" I asked as calmly as my parched tongue would let +me speak. + +The man did not answer my question. + +"You were with him last evening, sir, were you not?" + +"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, completely thrown off my guard; "they +surely don't suspect _me!_" + +"Not that I'm aware of, sir; but your evidence is necessary, since you +were _one_ of the last persons who saw him alive." + +"But not the last," I said, still blind to the fact pointed at. "Mr. +Atherton, his nephew, was with him after I left. I met him going there +at the comer of Vere street." + +There was a peculiar look on the man's countenance--of compassion for +me, I had almost said. + +"Mr. Kavanagh, sir, I had rather have cut off my right hand than that +you should have told me that, for you've both been kind gentlemen to +me and mine. _Mr. Atherton is arrested on suspicion of having +administered the poison to his uncle._ When you remember _where_ you +met him, you can guess what your evidence will be against him. +Here--Mr. Hardy! Help!" + +I remember nothing more, for I had fallen back insensible. + +TO BE CONTINUED. + +------ + +[Original.] + +Peace. + + "Not as the world giveth give I unto you."--St. John 14th. + + + Break not its sleep, the faithful grief, still tender; + God gives at length his own beloved rest; + How worn and the suffering brow! Yet these meek fingers + Still press the cross of patience to her breast. + + Stir not the air with one sweet, lingering cadence + From life's fair prime of love and hope and song; + Serener airs, from martyr hosts celestial, + To that high trance of Conquered peace belong. + + Hush mortal joy or wail, hush mortal paeans; + Ye cannot reach that Thabor height sublime + Where God's eternal joy, in tranquil vision, + Seems nearer than the sights and sounds of time. + +------ + +{411} + +[Original.] + +TWO PICTURES OF LIFE IN FRANCE BEFORE 1848. + + +Those who are familiar with the Journal of Eugénie de Guérin, know +that in Languedoc, near the towns or villages of Andillac and Gaillac, +and not far from Toulouse, there is an ancient estate called Le Cayla; +but they know little more than this of the place where Maurice and +Eugénie de Guérin passed their youth in the quaint an beautiful +simplicity that stamped their genius with so marked and individuality. + +The peasantry of that region are wedded to old habits and traditions, +and the ancient families are imbedded like rocks in the land, says +Lamartine, (from whose "Entretiens" many of these local details are +taken), and are nobles by common consent, because the château is +merely the largest ruin in the village, and every one goes there as to +a home to get whatever he needs in the way of advice, agricultural +tools, medicine or food. + +Let us in the imagination visit the Château of like a lot, as it was +in the year 1837, four we must make our first acquaintance with it +when it is graced by the exquisite presence of those two, whose names +are fast becoming household words on both sides of the Atlantic +--Maurice and Eugénie de Guérin. + +It is not like one's dream of an ancient _castel_, this spreading, +rectangular house, built of brick and stone after a fashion of Henry +the Fourth's time, and perched on the summit of a sharp declivity. +There is little to distinguish it from the great farms of the country +round, but a half ruined portico, projecting over the flight of stone +steps, a pointed current and the grooves of a drawbridge, over which +the ruthless hand of 1793 as effaced the ancient arms of the Guérins. +The great flagstones of the courtyard were loosened and uprooted long +ago by the drainage from the stables, and in the angles of the wall +grow holly and elder bushes, not too aristocratic to take root in such +a soil. These gates stand open always, admitting wayfarers who may +wish for a cup of water from the bucket hanging behind the door, or +for a plate of soup to eat, sitting in the sunshine on the broad steps +that lead down into the courtyard from the kitchen, an important +department in this venerable homestead. + +Within doors blazes a goodly fire on the hearth, a whole tree, +standing on end, sending its smoke up a great chimney through which +daylight is visible, and ready to give a comfortable greeting to Jean, +or Gilles, or Romignières, when they come to talk about corn or sheep +with the master, they sitting on the stone settles, built into the +wall, he on one of those walnut armchairs standing between the kitchen +table and the fireplace. See the great copper boilers standing around +the wall, and those immense soup-tureens, ornamented with coarse +painting, and the big dishes for the fish that they catch in the +mill-pond once in three years. + +There--we have looked long enough; pass through this long smoke-dried +corridor to the dining-room, where masters and servants take their +meals together, excepting on state occasions, the menials standing or +sitting at the lower and of the unbleached cloth. + +Now down this little flight of steps to the _salon_, which is all +white, with a large sofa, some straw chairs, and a table with books on +it. Yes--here {412} we pause--here are the objects of our search. In a +faded tapestry arm-chair sits Maurice reading and Eugénie is near +here. He looks but shadowy still, having just recovered from a fever, +but the outline of his face is beautiful as he bends slightly over the +book, the refined mouth, the expressive, drooping eyelids, the noble +brow declaring him the worthy descendent of a long line of knights and +gentlemen. One of these ancestors, Guérin de Montaigu, Grand Master of +the Knights of Malta, looks down upon us from the wall as we stand +behind Maurice's chair, glancing, by the way, over his shoulder at the +page he is reading, one of Barbey d'Aurevilly's brilliant articles. +And now he reads aloud a striking passage, and Eugénie lifts her eyes +and lets the work drop on her lap. What earnest, dovelike eyes they +are! See how softly the hair parts on her forehead, passing over the +pretty ear and falling in little curls at the back of her neck. The +dress looks old-fashioned to us now, with its half-high, baby waste, +and belt, and tucker, and her hair is dressed too high to be becoming; +but there is the air of a refined lady in everything about her, and +her face is like the face of a sweet, good little child. + +The reading has stopped and their talk turns upon private matters, +something about Caroline, and hopes and fears for the future. We will +leave them to their conversation, and pass out through yonder door, +pausing for an instant to admire that picture of the Madonna and +child, presented to the family by the Queen, and to look through the +glass doors and arched window at the terrace, all green and blossoming +with roses and acacias. + +Here we are in an M. de Guérin's room, with its table and chairs +loaded with books and with dust! That priè-Dieu was embroidered by +Mme. de Guérin and whose pensive look face looks out from the +pictures, hanging between the fireplace and the bed. There is the +cross presented by Christine Rognier, and the holy water vase, and the +picture of Calvary before which Eugénie used to kneel and pour out her +childish woes. One day she prayed that some spots might disappear from +her frock, and a disappeared--and again she begged that her doll might +have a soul, but that never came to pass. No doubt it was in this +great state bed that Madame de Guérin died at midnight on the second +of April, 1819. Eugénie had fallen asleep at her mother's feet, and as +the spirit passed away from the long suffering body, M. de Guérin +waked the little girl. "My God! I hear the priest, I see the lighted +candles and a pale face the in tears," she wrote sixteen years +afterwards. Poor little soul! She awoke to the double responsibility +of child and parent, for the little eight-year-old Maurice was her +mother's legacy to her. + +Now a dark spiral staircase in the turret leads to a large hall on the +first story, and then winds on with several landing-places to the +upper part of the house where the servants sleep. + +This hall is the grand reception-room for guests of distinction, and +has more and air of grandeur then the rest of the château. This +ornamented ceiling and deep wainscoting of carved wood, these +paintings set in the panels, and that huge chimney-piece supported on +stone caryatides, call up to our fancy the days when stately dames and +gentle couriers visited Le Cayla for the hunting season. But there is +a golden renown in store for this shattered, time-worn house, more +precious than that shed upon it by any Guérin of the seventeenth +century. + +Suites of small rooms lead from the hall--here is the room that +Eugénie shares with her younger sister Marie, and near by is the +_chambrette_ where Maurice sleeps when he is at home. In his absence +it is her nest where she reads, writes, prays, or leans on the +window-sill to listen to the brook rippling below the terrace, two +doves, and nightingales and all the lovely {413} out-door sounds; or +to look over the corn-fields, groves, chestnut trees, and vineyards in +the valley, far away to the mountains where the friend, Louis de +Bayne, lives in a white château with a linden tree walk, in a country +of ravines and waterfalls;--but we have indulged long enough in this +summer dream of Le Cayla, and must turn to a picture full of sober +tints and shadows. + +LA CHENAIE + +In Brittany, within a few hours drive from Rennes, was the old family +place of the Lamennais, where about the year 1830 Hughes Filicité de +Lamennais drew about him several of the most promising intellects of +France, [Footnote 64] with the view of establishing a new religious +order, that should meet all the demands of that most grasping of +centuries, the nineteenth. Montalembert, Gerbert, Sainte-Beuve, +Lacordaire, Rohrbacher, Combalot, and many others of more or less +distinction, were inmates or frequent visitors in the old white house +with its peaked French roof, surrounded on every side by thick woods +that were full of beauty and song in summer, but in winter pressed +about it in dusky--brown monotony, while overhead on the grey, heavy +Breton sky. + + [Footnote 64: The precise period at which La Chênaie became the + resort of the celebrated men we have been unable to ascertain. + + The Lamennais were a commercial family in Bordeaux, ennobled during + the reign of Louis XVI. L'Abbé de Lamennais, the second son, + refusing to become a merchant, retired to La Chênaie, and prepared + himself for the priesthood.] + + +Here Lamennais passed through many of the struggles of his giant +nature, slow in its action, but never pausing until it had reached the +extreme result of any course of thought or feeling. Here, at fifteen +years of age, he took refuge with his brother, Jean de Lamennais, to +think out the perplexities that clouded his faith so persistently as +to prevent him from receiving his first communion until he was +twenty-two years old; and hither he came to labor over the task he had +proposed to himself, of procuring the banishment of tyranny and +suffering from the earth. + +At the time Maurice de Guérin [Footnote 65] joined the little circle +at La Chênaie, Lamennais had reached the turning point in his career. +After preaching in his journal, with the assurance of a prophet, the +public union of Catholicity and democracy, he had suffered the +mortification of finding himself obliged to suspend the publication of +_L'Avenir_. A visit to Rome, where he was treated with the greatest +personal consideration, convinced him that there was no prospect of +support from the Holy See, and he returned home oppressed with +disappointment, and though apparently submissive to the decisions of +his superiors, already resolving in his mind, perhaps unconsciously, +plans to crush the power that had crushed him. Those around him feared +that he would die of grief. One day he said to his favorite pupil, +Elie de Kertauguy, when they were sitting together under one of the +Scotch pines behind the chapel, in the great spreading garden: "There +is the place where I wish to rest," marking out on the grass the form +of a grave with his stick: "But no tombstone over me--only a mound of +earth. Oh! I shall be well off there." + + [Footnote 65: Vide M. Sainte-Beuve's "Notice sur Maurice de + Guérin."] + +"If," says M. Sainte-Beuve, "he had died then, or in the following +months, if his heart had snapped in it's hidden struggle, what a fair, +unblemished memory he would have left, what fame as a faithful +believer (fidèle) a hero--almost a martyr! What a mysterious subject +of meditation and revery to those who love to contemplate great +destinies thwarted!" And yet even then Lamennais' sufferings must have +proceeded more from wounded pride than from disappointed philanthropy, +for one can hardly imagine a sterner course of tyranny then that of +forcing dogmatically upon Catholic nations a theory of political +freedom that would have thrown half the civilized world into a state +of revolution. + +{414} + +A striking point in M. Sainte-Beuve's masterly analysis of the +character of his former friend is the strange contrast offered by the +double nature of Lamennais, who always leaned completely to one side +or the other, without any gradation, sometimes being possessed by what +Buffon calls, in speaking of beasts of prey, "a soul wrath;" and again +filled with a sweetness and tenderness that drew little children to +him, a truly fascinating mood; and from one humor to the other he +would pass in an instant. + +To La Chênaie and to the influence of this wonderful being, this +compound a pathetic gentleness and combative obstinacy, of magnetism +and repulsion, Guérin came one afternoon early in the December of +1832. M. Féli, as Lamennais was called in his household, where +ceremony was laid aside, and the most charming relations existed +between old and young, received him very cordially in his little +private parlor, which was furnished with one chair and a chest of +drawers. The master had a way of letting the person he was conversing +with say everything that he had to say upon a subject without +interruption (and uncomfortable method, by the way, of convincing one +of the paucity of one's ideas), and then he would take up the matter +himself, and speak "gravely, profoundly, luminously." But on this +occasion he gave himself up freely to a chat upon all sorts of +subjects calculated to draw out the general intelligence of his new +pupil--the weather in Languedoc, Maurice's traveling companions, his +age, the high tides that Saint Malo, Calderon, oyster fishing, +Catholic poetry, Victor Hugo, the most remarkable fishes on the coast +of Brittany--all the while hurrying to and fro in the little room, +presenting a singular appearance with his small, slender figure clad +in grey from head to foot, his oblong head, pale complexion, grey +eyes, long nose, and brow furrowed with wrinkles. + +The life at La Chênaie suited Guérin's taste admirably, excepting +perhaps the practice of rising at five o'clock, against which every +well-regulated mind must rebel. One of his great enjoyments was the +daily mass in the quiet little chapel below the terrace in the garden. +"At breakfast," he wrote to Eugénie, "we have butter, and bread which +we toast to make it more appetizing (toast was rather a luxury in +those days on the continent), butter plays an important part in the +meals. Dinner _très confortable_, with coffee and _liqueurs_ when we +have company, is seasoned with a rolling fire of wit, generally coming +from M. Féli--whose _mots_ are charming--vivid, piercing, sparkling, +and innumerable. His genius escapes in this way when he is not at +work, and from sublime he becomes fascinating." + +In studies, Maurice was thrown into modern languages, Catholic +philosophy, and the history of philosophy. Each pupil had a room to +himself, but they all studied in a common room sitting round a good +fire. Their recreations consisted in skating on a pond close by the +house, or taking walks in the woods, staff in hand, M. Féli marching +on ahead wearing a battered old straw hat such as great men love to +shelter their illustrious heads with. They had supper at eight o'clock +and then adjourned to the pleasant, quaint old parlor, where chess and +backgammon greeted the master's longing eyes, smoothing his brow and +putting him in genial mood. Then he would throw himself on the immense +sofa that stood under his grandmother's portrait, and become absorbed +into the threadbare crimson velvet, except the little head ever +rolling restlessly from side to side with eyes gleaming like +fire-flies. + + "And then he would talk, + Ye gods! how he would talk!"-- + +What treasures of wit, humor, anecdote, analysis, and broad +generalization poured from that horn of plenty, {415} his mind stored +with the prints of nearly half a century of philosophic research and +observation of men and things! His voice varied with his words from +grave to gay, and now and then came long peals of shrill laughter, +more derisive perhaps than mirthful. "That is _our man!_" said Maurice +proudly, after describing such an evening; that evening perhaps when +his own attractions eclipsed the master's brilliancy in the estimation +of one who saw him for the first time--M. de Marzan, a former pupil of +Lamennais, who revisited La Chênaie on the 18th of December, 1832. + +M. Féli was in one of his most delightful moods, recounting the +experiences of his late Italian journey, and drawing out in his genial +way the keen observations of the young men about him--of all excepting +poor Maurice, who stood silent among the hopeful, eager talkers, +painfully conscious of himself and distrustful of others, we must +confess, with all affectionate sympathy for our hero. But in his +reserved mien, in his expressive southern eyes and intellectual face, +there was a magnetism that won completely M. de Marzan's attention +from the delights of conversation, and as soon as the evening ended, +he obtained an introduction through Elie de Kertauguy, a handsome, +gifted youth from Lower Brittany, passionately devoted to Lamennais, +and compassionately attentive to Guérin, regarding him, as did most of +the inmates of La Chênaie, as a refined but very inefficient member of +their circle. + +Not so Marzan, who in twenty-four hours had thawed Maurice's reserve, +won his confidence, seen his journal, heard the circumstances of his +unrequited love for Mlle. de Bayne, and laid the foundation of a +friendship that lasted unbroken to the day of Guérin's death. What +days, and nights too, of rapture these two young poets used to spend +together, guided by their older and more experienced friend, Hippolyte +de La Morvonnais (a frequent visitor at La Chênaie), who had been to +Grasmere to visit Wordsworth, and come home imbued with veneration for +"Les Lakistes". (The Lake Poets). There came to be a mania among the +three friends for describing in homely language the simplest domestic +details, which they considered it a triumph in art to be able to give +in a rhythm so dubious that none but the initiated could tell whether +it was meant for prose or verse. + +Even at this early period, Guérin gave evidence of the peculiar +strength and weakness of his style, the vagueness and looseness of his +verse, the faultless harmony of his prose, which is as pure as air, +free from the least touch of provincialism or mannerism; and yet, in +the simple fervor of its revelations of the secrets that nature poured +into his attentive ear, we are reminded of the sweet pipings of the +Ettrick Shepherd, as dear old Christopher North interprets them to us. +Through him we see and hear trees wave and waters flow, birds sing and +winds sigh in the woods, and without being disturbed by moral +inferences and philosophical conclusions. And surely, when beauty +comes to us so pure and fresh and untarnished, she may be left to +teach her own lessons, which come to us so softly too from her lips. + +The months that Maurice spent at La Chênaie were not especially +fruitful to him, except in the sad experiences that tended to develop +his moral strength. But for Morvonnais and Marzan, he would have +remained quite unappreciated, for Lamennais, who gave the tone to the +household, was too much "absorbed in his apocalyptic social visions" +[Footnote 66] to be conscious of the jewel that glittered before his +eyes. Lamennais was a logician, a philosopher, a passionate and +fanatical worker. Guérin was a man of {416} exquisite artistic +perceptions, but dreamy, undecided, deficient in vigor. Odin and +Apollo,--sledge-hammer and chisel,--thunderbolt and sunbeam, are not +more unlike in use and significance. M. Féli offered nothing but +pitying tenderness, which Maurice accepted in dumb veneration. No +wonder that, with the life at La Chênaie, all intimate intercourse +between them ceased. + + [Footnote 66: Sainte-Beuve.] + +But it is a matter for surprise that, with all his powers of +fascination, Lamennais inflicted (so far as we can learn the +circumstances of the case) no permanent injury upon the faith of any +one of his companions at La Chênaie. Lacordaire, Gerbet, Montalembert, +and Bohrbacher became renowned champions of the church. Combalot, who +had adored Lamennais, burst forth into a storm of invectives against +him (as is the wont of disappointed idolaters), and then exclaimed, +"Alas! I have wounded that heart into which I could have poured +torrents of love!" Morvonnais and Marzan were ardent believers; Elie +de Kertauguy and Guérin died Catholics. In short, Lamennais had +devoted the prime of life to the church, and in those years had +uttered words of wisdom never to be unsaid or forgotten. In spite of +himself he must always be an eloquent advocate of the faith he +deserted, a powerful enemy of the cause he espoused. + +The time was already drawing near when the asylum should be closed to +Maurice where he had found, in spite of disappointment and frequent +depression, a happy, congenial home. On Easter Sunday, Lamennais +celebrated his last mass and gave communion to all the little circle. +"Who would have said" (we quote from Sainte-Beuve) "to those who +clustered round the master, that he who had just given them communion, +would never administer it again to anyone; that he would refuse it +forevermore; and that he would soon adopt for his too true device an +_oak shattered_ by the storm, with the proud motto: _I break but bend +not!_ A Titan's device, _à la Capanée!_" + +Early in the autumn of 1833, the Bishop of Rennes ordered the +dissolution of Lamennais' religious community, and the pupils were +removed to Ploërmel, where they continued their studies under the +supervision of M. Jean de Lamennais. M. Féli disbanded his little army +with the dignity of a defeated general, and then threw himself +single-handed again into the fight. He changed his patrician name to +F. Lamennais, and demanded of democracy (says one of his biographers), +as he had demanded of the church, a wand-stroke that should free the +world at once from suffering and oppression. His success may be judged +by the political history of France in the last sixteen years. In +religion he adopted "_Christianisme législate,_" [Footnote 67] +whatever that may be. "If," said he, "men feel so irresistibly +impelled to unite themselves to God that they return to Christianity, +let no one suppose that it can be to that Christianity which presents +itself under the name of Catholicism." + + [Footnote 67: Lamartine.] + +In the revolution of '48 he thought he saw the birth of liberty; in +the "Coup d'Etat" he received its death-blow in his own person. +Baffled on every side, he betook himself to literature, and translated +the "Divina Commedia;" then "feeling within him no life-sustaining +thought," he died in his seventy-third year, after an illness of a few +weeks, leaving these words in his will: "I will be buried among the +poor, and like the poor. I will have nothing over my grave, not even a +stone; nor will I have my body carried into any church." They laid him +in Père la Chaise, and no word of blessing was uttered over his grave. +Poor Lamennais! What magnificent possibilities were shattered in his +fall! + +And Maurice, what were his emotions when the door of La Chênaie dosed +behind him?--the "little paradise" he called it, but then, poor soul, +{417} anything that had escaped him for ever seemed to have been +paradise. He suffered all that must be endured by those who have +mistaken personal influence for a divine attraction. The novitate on +which he had entered at La Chênaie with a certain reluctance, galled +him beyond endurance at Ploërmel. "I would rather run the chance of a +life of adventure than be garrotted by a rule," he said, and so he +went out into the world again, feeling like a thing let loose in the +universe, and by the blessing of Providence was received into the home +of his unfailing friend, Hippolyte de la Morvonnais, who lived most +delightfully on the coast of Brittany, at a place called Le Val de +l'Arquenon. + +Two months of simple country life, and of intercourse with Morvonnais, +and with his wife, who exercised over Maurice the noblest and sweetest +influence, gave him renewed strength to battle with life again. In the +following extract from his journal, describing the last walk at Le +Val, we see with what tenacity he clung to the past, and with what +sadness he encountered the future: "Ten o'clock in the evening. Last +walk, last visit to the sea, to the cliffs, to the whole grand scenery +that has enchanted me for two months. Winter is smiling upon us with +all the grace of spring, and giving us days that make birds sing and +leaves burst forth on the rose-bushes in the garden, on the eglantine +in the woods, on the honeysuckle climbing over rock and wall. About +two o'clock we took the path that winds so gracefully through +flowering broom and coarse cliff grass, skirting along wheat-fields, +bending toward ravines, twisting in and out between hedge-rows, and at +last boldly ascending the loftiest rocks. The object of our walk was a +promontory that commands the Bay of Quatre-Vaux. A hundred feet below +us shone the sea, breaking against the rocks with sounds that passed +through our souls as they mounted to heaven. Toward the horizon the +fishing-boats unfurled against the azure sky their dazzling sails, and +as our eyes turned from this little fleet to the more numerous one +that sailed singing nearer to us, an innumerable crowd of sea-birds +fishing gaily, and gladdening our eyes with the sight of their bright +plumage and graceful movements over the water--the birds, the sails, +the lovely day and universal peace gave to the sea a festal beauty +that filled my soul with glad enthusiasm in spite of the sad thoughts +I had brought with me to our promontory; and then I looked with all my +soul at headlands, rocks, and islands, trying to imprint them on my +memory and carry them away with me. Coming home I trod religiously, +and with regret at every step, the path that had so often led me to +such beautiful thoughts, in such sweet company. The path is so +charming when it reaches the coppice, and passes on among high hazel +trees, and a thick, bushy hedge of boxwood! Then the joy that nature +had bestowed upon me died away, and the melancholy of parting took +possession of me. Tomorrow will make of sea, and woods, and coast, and +all the charms I have enjoyed, a dream, a floating thought to me; and +so, that I might carry away from these dear places as much as +possible, and as if they could give themselves to me, I besought them +to engrave their images upon my soul, to give me something of +themselves that could never pass away; and I broke off branches of +boxwood, bushes, and luxurious thickets, plunging my head into their +depths to breathe in the wild perfumes they exhale, to penetrate into +their very essence, and speak as it were heart to heart. + +"The evening passed as usual in talking and reading. We recalled the +happiness of past days; I traced a faint picture of them in this book, +and we looked at it sadly, as at some dear, beautiful, dead face." + +One more passage from his journal and we will leave Maurice de Guérin +in Paris. Two years from the following date he was a fashionable man +of the world, capable of vieing in {418} conversation with those +marvels of wit and brilliancy, the talkers of Paris; but we have to do +with him only as the banished recluse, the exile from La Chênaie. + + "Paris, Feb., 1834. + "O God! close my eyes, keep me from seeing all this multitude, whose + presence rouses in me thoughts so bitter and discouraging. As I pass + through it, let me be deaf to the sounds, inaccessible to the + impressions that overwhelm me when I am in the crowd; set before my + eyes some image, some vision of the things I love, a field, a + valley, a moor, Le Cayla, Le Val, something in nature; I will walk + with eyes fastened upon these dear forms, and pass on without a + sense of suffering." + +------ + +From the Month. + +OF DREAMERS AND WORKERS. + +Nearly all men are born either dreamers or workers; not perhaps only +the one or only the other, but one of these two points is the centre +of their oscillation. Like a pendulum, they can move only so far +toward their opposite, some more, some less; but, like the pendulum, +they invariably return to their centre. Do we not all know some man +with abstracted eye, high, retreating forehead, rather refined and +often slightly attenuated frame and features, and placidly resolute in +demeanor, who has held the same position in the opinion of his +fellow-men, or, it may be, has occupied the same bench on the Sunday +quietly for twenty years or more? He is a specimen of the extreme type +of dreamers--venerative, mystical, and benevolent; but to all +appearance practically useless, helpless, and inert. Viewed +physiologically, these men are chiefly fair-haired and of the nervous +lymphatic temperament; sometimes this is combined with the bilious +temperament, and in such cases (to some of which we shall have more +particularly to allude) they become remarkable characters. It has been +said that the religion natural to dreamers is a mild form of Buddhism; +but this is probably because most Buddhists are dreamers and mystics +in the highest degree. One thing is certain, dreamers are in politics +either conservative or utopian, and in religion are little disposed +either to reject what they have been taught or to influence others to +do so. If they have been educated as Catholics, mild and devout +Catholics they live and die; if as Protestants, they are unusually +gentle and tolerant, and oppose alike reforms that would be +innovations, and innovations that would be reforms. A man who lives by +faith, thus resting on the invisible, has at times an apparent +resemblance to a dreamer. It is not our object in this paper to point +out the distinction, wide as it indeed is. Dreamers are the subject of +wonderful anecdotes about their absence of mind: it is related of them +that they forget their meals, start on a journey without their hats, +walk with their eyes wide open over precipices, ride on their +walking-sticks, and are surprised when toll is not demanded of them +for their charger. There is no occasion to believe all these +preposterous tales, but no doubt there are many very curious and +perfectly well-authenticated cases of abstraction of mind so entire as +to cause catastrophes both painful and ludicrous. To these men their +real life is their dream, their working-day is only their interruption +and annoyance. They are in heart mystics, and only need a certain +activity of brain and speech to proclaim themselves as such. They +possess great store of happiness within themselves, owing to their +peculiarity of caring less than others for those {419} substantial and +golden rewards which cause the unrest of the world. They love the +unseen and mysterious better than the visible and sensuous, and would +in general barter any amount of distinct and limited reality for +indefinite prospects; so that the single streak of wan and dying +light, which sleeps on the edge of the dark horizon, is more precious +to them, as suggesting Infinity, than any view which could be offered +of noble cities or fertile plains. Almost all things are to them +symbolical. No action is in their thought simply what it seems to be; +but there is about every deed performed, circumstance encountered, or +season passed, a secret sense of omen or prescience, of brightness or +of shadow. Light becomes a sentiment calling up images of +corresponding radiance and beauty, but especially perhaps that early +morning light which seems, while yet sleeping, to float in on the +world, as opposed to the fading colors of departing day. Darkness, +again, sometimes lends a sense of peril; but more often is peopled by +spirits--a realm of shadows and shadowy delights, all called into +being, moved, governed, and colored by the dreamer in his dream. The +many gradations between brightness and gloom have each their especial +fascination for dreamers, who are in this respect as discriminative +and fanciful as the Jews, who, in olden times, distinguished two kinds +of twilight: the doves' twilight, or crepusculum of the day, and +ravens' twilight, or the crepusculum of the night. In truth, their +tendency is to behold all actual things as illusions, and to consider +the spiritual and unseen world as the only true one: thus, in the +cloudy mantle of constant reverie they hide all the ills and +infirmities of humanity, and slumber in the "golden sleep of halcyon +quiet apart from the everlasting storms of life." For when a man can +sit calmly on an uncomfortable pole, like the Indian mystic, and say +"I am the Universe, and the Universe is me," he has attained to the +greatest conceivable height and perfection of dream-life. From the age +of Plato to our own times dreamers have been born perpetually among +the sons of men. St. John is claimed by them as being the most +profound and loving mystic ever given to the world. There have been +countless others; we need not add a list of names; those of +Swedenborg, Boehmen, and Irving, will occur to the memory as +representing one class of dreamers. These leaders are, as one might +predict, regarded with the extreme veneration characteristic of the +order. Indeed, of some it may be chronicled, as it was of the ancient +deities, Buddha, etc., "Once a man, now a God!" In general, dreamers +have tenanted our madhouses rather than filled our prisons; if, +however, they do commit crimes, they are serious ones. Religious and +political assassinations have been commonly the fruits of mad +dreamers. In the ranks have been numbered many holy men, and as a rule +they have influenced mankind rather by the example of their life and +the teaching of their pen than by busy practical action. Only certain +professions and occupations are suitable for dreamers. In the olden +times they were poets, shepherds, prophets, soothsayers, diviners, +alchemists, rhabdomantists. [Footnote 68] In these days they are by +rights clergymen, authors, poets, philanthropists, and, philosophers. +If they enter trade they commonly end in the _Gazette_; and placed in +positions of authority, where severity of discipline has to be +exercised, they are uniformly unsuccessful; in situations of trust, +they are invariably single-hearted and faithful, but in every place +and at all times they are the most frequent victims of fraudulent +representations and impudent imposture. A certain number of the +priesthood among all nations, gentle, speculative, and saintly men, +{420} have been of this order; weaving their work and their dreams +together into a fair fabric of many colors, which if it seems to +ordinary eyes shadowy and unsubstantial as the mist, is yet, like the +air, elastic, solid, and capable of resisting a very heavy pressure. +Idealists are, however, rarely formidable in action unless the bilious +is largely transfused in their temperament. They then become +missionaries and martyrs; patriots, revolutionists, fanatics; they +head revolutions, plan massacres, overthrow monarchies, and shatter +creeds. Peter the Hermit, John of Leyden, are examples of this order. + + [Footnote 68: [Greek text], _a rod_; men who undertook, and in + certain unenlightened regions do still undertake, to discover wells + of water, veins of minerals, or hidden treasures of money and + jewels, by means of divining-rods. ] + +The workers born into the world are widely different in temperament +and disposition, and antagonistic in principles, sentiment, and +action. They consist both of those who work with their hands alone, +and of those who work up into a practical form the reveries and +speculative schemes of the dreamers. Physiologically viewed, the +extreme type of the worker exhibits most frequently the bullet-shaped +head, square jaw, muscular, thick neck, large chest development, and +elemental hand, commonly also the sanguine, sanguine-nervous, or +sanguine-bilious temperament, They have an irresistible propensity to +do, to acquire, to conquer or invade; they are fertile in resource, +opulent in stratagem, full of quarrel, and essentially aggressive. A +contest is to them an occasion of inexplicable delight; and naturally +dedicated to action, they are as unable to conceive of disappointment +as the other class are to resist that which is or seems to be their +destiny. They become engineers, manufacturers, merchants, inventors, +mighty hunters, soldiers, sailors, pioneers, emigrants, rough-riders, +pugilists, smugglers, aeronauts, acrobats, and celebrated performers +in travelling circuses and menageries, lion-tamers, snake-charmers, +rat-catchers, burglars, thieves, and highwaymen. They are gamekeepers, +and devote their lives to circumvent and strive in mortal strife with +poachers; or they are poachers, and spend their days and nights in +plotting against and harassing and threatening the gamekeepers. As +clergymen they are most hard-working, zealous and excellent, but also +the most quarrelsome and intolerant. When they come on to the earth as +younger members of the aristocracy, who may neither dig, trade, nor +fight in the ring, and have not the wherewithal to keep racehorses and +hunters, they enter the army or navy, and there in times of peace, +when no legitimate outlet presents itself for the expenditure of these +energies, they form a very insubordinate and turbulent item of the +population. The lower classes of the workers who cannot get work, then +crusade against the upper classes, who are in the same predicament; +and we see the result in the perpetual placarding in some journals and +newspapers of "deplorable blackguardism in high life." Three parts out +of five, or even a larger proportion, of the Anglo-Saxon population +are composed of workers as opposed to dreamers; and the seething +unquiet mass of humanity known and described by some writers as our +"dangerous classes" is almost entirely recruited from their ranks. +Many centuries ago they were Vikings, pirates, and border robbers; +they scoured the seas, made raids, reived the cattle, and levied +black-mail; anon they were crusaders, for though Peter the Hermit was +a dreamer, his followers were workers; subsequently they destroyed +monasteries; and in these days they have made railroads and abolished +the corn-laws. But, nevertheless, the men who first built churches, +and dwelt in monasteries, and discovered the mysterious agency by +which the engine was to do its work, were not workers, but dreamers, +and were reviled in their day as visionaries and enthusiasts. Where a +dreamer would have been an alchemist, a modern worker finds his +mission to be a gold-digger; where one is a shepherd, the other will +be a hunter or trapper:--the first works that he may retire to dream. +{421} the second dreams how he shall arise and work. + +The dreamers among men select as mates the workers among women, or are +(perhaps more often) selected by them, and _vice versa_. It is the old +eternal law of nature--the duality pervading all things, types, and +classes, man and woman, positive and negative, matter and spirit, +reason and faith; and, in spite of the gentle scorn which dreamers +cherish for workers, and the undisguised contempt with which workers +regard dreamers, so they will continue to exist side by side until the +day comes when the worker can work no more, and the dreamer shall have +dreamed for the last time. + +-------- + +MISCELLANY. + + +_The Old Church at Chelsea, England_,--Mr. H. H. Burnell read a paper +before the British Archaeological Society lately, on the Old Church of +Chelsea. The chancel, with the chauntries north and south of it, are +the only portions of ancient work left. The north chauntry, called the +Manor Chauntry, once contained the monuments of the Brays, now in very +imperfect condition, having been destroyed or removed to make space +for those of the Gervoise family. There remains, however, an ancient +brass in the floor. Of the south, or More Chauntry, he stated that the +monument of Sir Thomas More was removed from it to the chancel; and +the chauntry had been occupied by the monuments of the Georges family, +now also removed, displaced, and destroyed. Mr. Blunt showed that, +notwithstanding the current contrary opinion, founded on Aubrey's +assertion, the More monument is the original one for which Sir Thomas +More himself dictated the epitaph. Mr. Burnell, the architect of the +improvements effected subsequently to 1857, spoke positively as to the +non-existence of a crypt which conjecture had placed under the More +Chauntry. The foundation of the west end of the church before it was +enlarged in 1666, he found west of Lord Dacre's tomb. On the north +side of the chancel an aumbrey, and on the south a piscina was found, +coeval with the chancel (early fourteenth century). The arch between +the More Chauntry and the chancel is a specimen of Italian +workmanship--dated 1528--a date confirmed by the objects represented +in the carved ornaments, those objects being connected with the Roman +Catholic ritual. It is a remarkably early instance of the use of +Italian architecture in this country. In a window of this chapel, then +partly bricked up, was found in the brickwork in 1858 remains of the +stained glass which once filled it. The body of Sir Thomas More was, +according to Aubrey, interred in this chapel, and his head, after an +exposure of fourteen days, testifying to the passers-by on London +Bridge the remorseless cruelty of Henry VIII. and his barbarous +insensibility, was consigned to a vault in St. Dunstan's Church, +Canterbury. It was seen and drawn in that vault in 1715.--_Reader_. + + +_New Artesian Well in Paris_,--A third artesian well is now being +added to the two which Paris' has already. Already the perforation has +reached the depth of eighty-two metres, being twenty metres below the +sea-level. Before reaching this point, considerable difficulties had +to be overcome in the shape of intermediate sheets of water, which +form a series of subterranean lakes. The first of these was kept in +its bed by means of a strong iron tube driven perpendicularly through +it; that which followed received wooden palings, and the subsequent +stratum being clay, the masonry was continued without difficulty to +about five metres above sea-level. But at this point a layer of +agglomerations was reached, which let a great deal of water escape. It +thus became necessary to have again recourse to pumps: those employed +were in the aggregate of 20 horse-power. Owing to the bad nature of +this stratum, it was resolved to protect the perforation by a +revetment of extraordinary thickness; and in order that the well might +preserve its diameter of two metres notwithstanding, the upper part +has had to be widened in proportion, so as to {422} give it the +enormous width of four metres at the top. After this labor the work of +perforation was continued through a stratum of pyrolithic limestone. +At the depth corresponding to the level of the sea, they reached a +layer of tubular chalk, all pierced with large holes, forming so many +spouts, as thick as a man's thigh, through which water poured into the +well with incredible velocity. While the pumps were at work to get rid +of this water, a cylindrical revetment of bricks was built on a sort +of wheel made of oak, and laid down flat at the bottom of the +perforation by way of a foundation, and the intermediate space between +this cylinder and the chalk stratum was filled with concrete, 47,000 +kilos, of which were expended in this operation. As soon as the +concrete might be considered to have set, or attained sufficient +consistency, the brick cylinder was taken to pieces again, and the +perforation continued to the pressure point, where a new sheet of +water has been reached, requiring ingenious contrivances._--Artisan_. + + + +_New Irish Coal Fossils_.--Through the labors of Professor Huxley, Dr. +E. P. Wright, and Mr. Brownrig, some very interesting fossils from the +Castlecomer coal-measures of Co. Kilkenny, Ireland, have been brought +under the notice of geologists. The specimens consist of fish, +insects, and amphibian reptiles. Three out of the five forms of these +amphibians are _undoubtedly new_ to science, and, in all probability, +the remaining two also. The first, and most remarkable genus, +Professor Huxley has named "_Ophiderpeton_," having reference to its +elongated, snake-like form, rudimentary limbs, peculiar head, and +compressed tail. In outward form _Ophiderpeton_ somewhat resembles +_Siren lacertina_ and _Amphiuma_, but the ventral surface appears +covered with an armature of minute, spindle-shaped plates, obliquely +adjusted together, as in _Archaegosaurus_ and _Pholidogaster_. The +second new form, which he names _Lepterpeton_, possesses an eel-like +body, with slender and pointed head, and singularly constructed +hourglass-shaped centra, as in _Thecodontosaurus_. The third genus, +which Professor Huxley names _Ichthyerpeton_, has also ventral armor, +composed of delicate rod-like ossicles; the hind limbs have three +short toes, and the tail was covered with small quadrate scutes, or +apparently horny scales. The fourth new amphibian Labyrinthodont he +appropriately names _Keraterpeton_, a singular salamandroid-looking +form, but minute as compared with the other associated genera. Its +highly ossified vertebral column, prolonged epiotic bones, and armor +of overlapping scutes, determine its character in a remarkable manner. +A paper has been read before the Royal Irish Academy upon the subject, +and, in the course of the discussion which followed, Professor +Haughton said he had Professor Huxley's authority for stating that the +coal-pit at Castlecomer had within a few months afforded more +important discoveries than all the other coal-pits of +Europe.--_Geological Magazine_. + + + +_The Accommodation-Power of the Eye._--The manner in which the human +eye alters its focus for the perception of objects at various +distances has always been a difficult problem for physiologists and +physicists. The literature of medical science is full of dissertations +on this subject, yet very little, if anything, is positively known of +the exact means by which the alteration is achieved. There appears to +be now a tendency among ophthalmologists to believe that the effect +required is produced by an alteration of the form of the crystalline +lens of the eye, which becomes less or more convex as occasion +demands. This view has just received a rather strong condemnation by +the Rev. Professor Haughton, of Trinity College, Dublin, in some +remarks published in the "Dublin Quarterly Journal of Science." +Speaking of the alteration of form in the lens, he says:--"Even this +must take place on a far greater and more important scale than +anatomists have as yet suspected. The change amounts to the addition +of a double convex lens of crown glass having a radius of a third of +an inch. Anatomists have not as yet discovered a mechanism for +changing the shape of the lens sufficient to produce these results. +The lens should almost be turned into a sphere, and I know of no +ciliary muscles capable of effecting so great a change."--_Popular +Science Review_. + + + +{423} + +_Petroleum as a Substitute for Coal_.--Some recent experiments with +petroleum oil used for heating water, gave results from which it was +estimated that petroleum had more than three times the heating effect +of an equal weight of coal. Mr. Richardson's experiments at Woolwich, +however, gave an evaporation of 13.96 to 18.66 lb. of water, by one +pound of American petroleum; 9.7 lb. of petroleum being burnt per +square foot of grate per hour. With shale oil the evaporation was 10 +to 10.5 lb. of water per pound of fuel. The evaporative power of good +coal may be taken, for comparison, at 8 to 8.5 lb. per pound of fuel. +Taking into account the saving of freight due to the better quality of +the fuel, and the saving of labor in stoking, it is possible that at +some future time mineral oil may supersede coal in some of our ocean +steamers.-- + + + +_Frith of Forth Bridge_.--Parliamentary sanction has been obtained for +a bridge over the Frith of Forth, of a magnitude which gives it great +scientific interest. It is to form part of a connecting-link between +the North British and Edinburgh and Glasgow Railways. Its total length +will be 11,755 feet, and it will be made up of the following spans, +commencing from the south shore:--First, fourteen openings of 100 feet +span, increasing in height from 63 to 77 ft. above high-water mark; +then six openings of 150 ft. span, varying from 71 ft. to 79 ft. above +high water level; and then six openings of 175 ft. span, of which the +height above high-water level varies from 76 to 83 ft. These are +succeeded by fifteen openings of 200 ft. span, and height increasing +from 80 ft. to 105 ft. Then come the four great openings of 500 ft. +span, which are placed at a clear height of 135 ft. above high-water +spring tides. The height of the bridge then decreases, the large spans +being followed by two openings of 200 ft., varying in height from 105 +to 100 ft. above high-water; then four spans of 175 ft., decreasing +from 102 to 96 ft. in height; then four openings of 150 ft. span, +varying in height from 95 to 91 feet; and lastly seven openings of 100 +ft. span, 97 to 93 feet in height. The piers occupy 1,005 feet in +aggregate width. The main girders are to be on the lattice principle, +built on shore, floated to their position, and raised by hydraulic +power. The total cost is estimated at £476,543.--_Engineering_, Jan. +5. + + + +_Origin of the Diamond_.--Contrary to the usual opinion that the +diamond has been produced by the action of intense heat on carbon, +Herr Goeppert asserts that it owes its origin to aqueous agency. His +argument is based upon the fact that the diamond becomes black when +exposed to a very high temperature. He considers that its Neptunian +origin is proved by the fact that it has often on the surface +impressions of grains of sand, and sometimes of crystals, showing that +it has once been soft. + + + +_The Purification of Coal-Gas_.--An important essay on this subject +has been written by Professor A. Anderson, of Queen's College, +Birmingham. It relates chiefly to the methods discovered by the author +for the successful removal of bisulphide of carbon and the +sulphuretted hydro-carbons by means of the sulphides of ammonium. By +washing the gas with this compound, a very large proportion (nearly 35 +per cent.) of the sulphur impurities are removed, and the illuminating +power of the gas, so far from being diminished, becomes actually +increased. Professor Anderson records several carefully conducted +experiments, all of which prove the truth of the conclusions at which +he has arrived. His method is now in operation at the Taunton and +other local gas-works, and is highly spoken of by those who have given +it careful consideration. + + +_Paraffine in the Preservation of Frescoes_.--In _Dingler's Journal et +Bulletin de la Société Chimique_ it is stated that paraffine may be +used with advantage for the above purpose. Vohl coats the picture with +a saturated solution of paraffine in benzole, and, when the solvent +has evaporated, washes the surface with a very soft brush. Paraffine +has this advantage over other greasy matters--it does not become +colored by time. + + + +_Welsh Gold_.--During the year 1864, we learn from statistics only +recently published, there were five gold-mines working in +Merionethshire. In these 2,836 tons were crushed, from which 2,887 +ozs. of gold, valued at £9,991, were obtained. This is in excess of +the quantity obtained in 1868, which was only 552 ozs.; but it is +considerably less than the production of 1862, when 5,299 ozs., having +a value of £20,390, were extracted. + +{424} + +_A New Train-Signaling Apparatus._--Sundry mechanical contrivances +and improvements in philosophical apparatus have been exhibited at the +scientific gatherings of the present season in London, attracting more +or less of attention, according to their merits and utility. Mr. +Preece's train-signalling apparatus for promoting the safety of +railway-travelling, can hardly fail of being interesting to everybody. +It is in use on the South-western Railway, and if properly used, +accidents from collision ought never to happen; it has the advantage +of being applicable to any number of stations, which is of importance, +considering how stations are multiplying in and around the metropolis. +Mr. Preece has a very simple and complete method of communication +between the signalman and switchman. The latter, on being informed +that trains are waiting to come in, operates on the lever-handles +before him, there being as many handles as lines of converging +railway; and these handles are so contrived, that on moving any one to +admit a train, it locks the others; so that if the switchman should +pull at any one of them by mistake, he cannot move it. He is thus +prevented from admitting two trains at the same time upon one line of +rails, and thus one of the most frequent occasions of railway accident +is avoided. And besides this, safety is further promoted by a series +of small signal-discs, which start up before the switchman's eyes at +the right moment, and give him demonstration that he has given the +right pull at the right handle. + + + +_Action of Liquid Manure on certain Soils_.--Some recent researches on +this point, conducted by Professor Voelcker, were alluded to by Dr. G. +Calvert in his Canton lecture before the Society of Arts. In some +respects Dr. Voelcker's conclusions differ from those of Mr. Way. They +are briefly as follows: (1.) That calcareous, dry soils absorb about +six times as much ammonia from the liquid manure as the sterile, sandy +soil. (2.) That the liquid manure in contact with the calcareous soil +becomes much richer in lime, whilst during its passage through the +sandy soil it becomes much poorer in this substance. (3.) That the +calcareous soil absorbs much more potash than the sandy soil. (4) That +chloride of sodium is not absorbed to any considerable extent by +either soil, (5.) That both soils remove most of the phosphoric acid +from the liquid. (6.) That the liquid manure, in passing through the +calcareous soil, becomes poorer, and in passing through the sandy soil +becomes richer in silica. + + + +_The Value of Sewage_.--This important question, which has been so +ably discussed by Baron Liebig in his various works upon Agricultural +Chemistry, had a paper devoted to it by Dr. Gilbert at a late meeting +(February 1st) of the Chemical Society. After entering into the +details of his subject, the author draws the following general +conclusions: 1st. It is only by the liberal use of water that the +refuse matters of large populations can be removed from their +dwellings without nuisance and injury to health. 2d. That the +discharge of town sewage into rivers renders them unfit as water +supplies to other towns, is destructive to fish, causes deposits which +injure the channel, and emanations which are injurious to health, is a +great waste of manurial matter, and should not be permitted. 3d. That +the proper mode of both purifying and utilizing sewage-water is to +apply it to land. 4th. That, considering the great dilution of town +sewage, its constant daily supply at all seasons, its greater amount +in wet weather, when the land can least bear, or least requires more +water, and the cost of distribution, it is best fitted for application +to grass, which alone can receive it the year round, though it may be +occasionally applied with advantage to other crops within easy reach +of the line or area laid down for the continuous application to grass. +6th. That the direct result of the general application of town sewage +to grass land would be an enormous increase in the production of milk +(butter and cheese) and meat, whilst by the consumption of the grass a +large amount of solid manure, applicable to arable land and crops +generally, would be produced. 6th. That the cost or profit to a town +of arrangements for the removal and utilization of its sewage must +vary greatly, according to its position and to the character of the +land to be irrigated; where the sewage can be conveyed by gravitation +and a sufficient tract of suitable land is available, the town may +realize a profit; but, under contrary conditions, it may have to +submit to a pecuniary loss to secure the necessary sanitary +advantages. + +------ + +{425} + + +NEW PUBLICATIONS. + + +THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY. +By Herbert Spencer. New York: +Appleton & Co. 1866, Vol. I. 12mo. Pp. 475. + +We have omitted the long list of works of which Herbert Spencer is the +author, works of rare ability in their way, but essentially false in +the philosophical principles on which they are based. Mr. Herbert +Spencer is naturally one of the ablest men in Great Britain, far +superior to the much praised Buckle, and equalled, if not surpassed by +John Stuart Mill, now member of Parliament. We have heretofore +considered him as belonging to the positivist school of philosophy, +founded by Auguste Comte, and the ablest man of that school; able, and +less absurd than even M. Littré. But in a note in the work before us +he disclaims all affiliation with Positivism, declares that he does +not accept M. Comte's system, and says that the general principles in +which he agrees with that singular man, he has drawn not from him, but +from sources common to them both. This we can easily believe, for in +the little we have had the patience to read of M. Comte's unreadable +works we have found nothing original with him but his dryness, +dulness, and wearisomeness, in which if he is not original, he is at +least superior to most men. Yet we have not been able to detect any +essential difference of doctrine or principle between the Frenchman +and the Englishman, and to us who are not positivists, M. Comte, M. +Littré, George H. Lewes, Herbert Spencer, John Stuart Mill, Miss +Evans, and Harriet Martineau belong to one and the same school. + +It is but simple justice to Herbert Spencer to say that he writes in +strong, manly, and for the most part classical English, and has made +himself master of the best philosophical style that we have met with +in any English or American writer. He understands, as far as a man can +with his principles, the philosophy of the English tongue, and writes +it with the freedom and ease of a master, though not always with +perfect purity. He must have been a hard student, and evidently is a +most laborious thinker and industrious writer. But here ends, we are +sorry to say, our commendation. It is the misfortune, perversity, or +folly of Herbert Spencer to spend his life in attempting to obtain or +at least to explain effects without causes, properties without +substance, and phenomena without noumena or being. In his _Principles +of Philosophy_, he divides the real and unreal into the knowable and +the unknowable, without explaining, however, how the human mind knows +there is an unknowable; and to the unknowable he relegates the +principles, origin, and causes of things; that is, in plain English, +the principles, origin, and causes of things, are unreal at least to +us, and are not only unknown, but absolutely unknowable, and should be +banished as subjects of investigation, inquiry, or thought. Hence the +knowable, that to which all science is restricted, includes only +phenomena, that is to say, the sensible or material world. + +Biology, which is the subject of the volume before us, is the science +of life, but on the author's principles, is necessarily confined to +the statement, description, and classification of facts, or phenomena +of organic as distinguished from inorganic matter. He can admit on his +philosophy no vital principle, but must explain the vital phenomena +without it, by a combination, brought about nobody knows how, of +chemical, mechanical and electric changes, forces, action, and +reaction--as if there can be changes, forces, action, or reaction +where there is no relation of cause and effect! But after all his +labor, and it is immense, to show what chemical, mechanical, and +electric changes and combinations, binary, tertiary, etc., are +observed in a living subject, he explains nothing; for life, while it +lasts, is neither mechanical, chemical, nor electrical, but to a +certain extent resists and counteracts all these forces, and the human +body falls completely under their dominion only when it has ceased to +be a living body, when by chemical action it is decomposed, and +returns to the several elements from which it was formed. Mr. Spencer +describes very scientifically the entire {426} process of +assimilation; but what is that living power within that assimilates +the food we eat and converts it into chyle, blood, and flesh and bone? +You see here a principle operating of which no element is found in +mechanics, chemistry or electricity, or any possible combination of +them. The muscles of my arms and shoulder may operate on mechanical +principles in raising my arm when I will to raise it; but on what +mechanical, chemical, or electric principles do I will to raise it? +That I will to raise it, and in willing to do so perform an immaterial +act, I know better than you know that "percussion produces detonation +in sulphide of nitrogen," or that "explosion is a property of +nitro-mannite," or "of nitroglycerine." + +The simple fact is that the physical sciences are all good and useful +in their place, and for purposes to which they are fitted; but they +are all secondary sciences, and without principles higher than +themselves to give dialectic validity to their inductions, they are no +sciences at all. There is no approach to the science of life in +Herbert Spencer's Biology; there is only a painfully elaborate +statement of the principal external facts which usually accompany it +and depend on it. Indeed, we had the impression that our most advanced +physiologists, while admitting in their place chemical and electric +forces as necessary to the phenomena of organic life, had abandoned +the attempt to expound the science of physiology on chemical, electric +or mechanical principles, or any possible combination of them. Even +Dr. Draper, if he makes no great use of it in his physiology, +recognizes a vital principle, even an immaterial soul, in man. We had +also the impression that the medical profession were abandoning the +chemical theory of medicine, so fashionable a few years ago. We may be +wrong, but as far as we have been able to keep pace with modern +science, Mr. Spencer is a quarter of a century behind his age. + +The chapter on genesis, generation, multiplication, or reproduction, +is as unscientific as it is unchristian. We merely note that the +author insists on metagenesis as well as parthenogenesis, that is, +that the offspring may differ in kind from the parents, and that there +are virgin, or rather, sexless mothers. Some years ago, in conversing +with a scientific friend, I ventured to deny this alleged fact, on the +strength of the theological and scriptural doctrine that every kind +produces its like. He laughed in my face, and brought forward certain +well-known facts in the reproduction of the aphid or cabbage-louse. I +assured him that if he would take the pains to observe more closely he +would find that his metagenesis and parthenogenesis are only different +stages in the entire process of the reproduction of the aphid. Of +course he did not believe a word of it; but a few days afterwards he +came and informed me that he had seen his friend. Dr. Burnham of +Boston, a naturalist of rare sagacity, who told him that naturalists +were wrong in asserting metagenesis in the case of aphides. "I have," +said he, "been making my observations for some years on these little +organisms, and I find that what we have taken for metagenesis is only +the different stages in the process of reproduction, for I have +discovered the young aphid properly formed and enveloped in the +so-called virgin or sexless mother." The naturalist is dead, but his +friend, my informant, is living. + +We have no space to enter into any detailed review of this very +elaborate volume. It contains many curious materials of science, but +the author rejects creation, generation, formation, and emanation, and +adopts that of evolution. Life is evolved from various elements which +are reducible to gases, and, upon the whole, he gives us a gaseous +sort of life. His theory seems to be that of Topsy, who declared she +didn't come, but _growed_. We cannot perceive that Mr. Herbert Spencer +has made any serious advance on Topsy. The universe is evolution, and +evolution is growth, and he must say of himself with Topsy, "I didn't +come, I growed." At any rate, he must be classed with those old +philosophers who evolved all things from matter, some from fire, some +from air, and some from water, and made all things born from change or +corruption; or rather, with Epicurus, who evolved all from the +fortuitous motion, changes, and combination of atoms. Those old +philosophers were unjustly ridiculed by Hermias, or our recent +philosophers have less science than they imagine. Verily, there is +nothing new under the sun, and false science only traverses a narrow +{427} circle, constantly coming round to the absurdities of its +starting point. Yet Herbert Spencer's book has profited us. It has +made us feel more deeply than ever the utter impotence of the greatest +man to explain anything in nature, without recognizing God and +creation. + + +THE CHRISTIAN EXAMINER. May, 1866. + +The first volume of the new series of this periodical is completed in +the present number, and, we suppose, is a fair specimen of the way in +which we may expect to see its programme carried out. On the whole, +our expectations are quite well satisfied, particularly with the +present number. The first article, "The Unitarian Movement," is an +_exposé_ of the view taken by the conductors of the influence which +the Unitarian movement is expected to exert upon the future destiny of +Christendom and the civilized world. The Unitarian movement is +supposed to represent the generally diffused and accepted theology of +the mass of thinking persons in the Protestant world, especially of +those who give tone to literature, and are most active in promoting +science, art, culture, civilization, and process in general. The +Catholic Church is a sect, because separated from the scientific and +progressive movement. The Unitarian denomination is a useful little +institution in a small way, but is not expected to absorb other bodies +into itself. Rather it and they are expected to coalesce into a more +universal form of organization, which will be the New Christendom or +Church of the Future. + +The principal difficulty we find in the ingenious theories of our +Unitarian friends is, that they assume a great deal, and prove but +little. They assume to be in advance of all the world in intelligence, +science, liberality, etc., and quietly ignore the whole massive, +colossal fabric of Catholic theology. The truth is, the Unitarian +idea, so far as it is an idea, and in the way in which any +considerable class of Unitarians represent it, is not, and cannot +become, the dominant idea of that portion of the scientific or +civilized world which has disowned allegiance to the supreme authority +of divine revelation. Nor can it be shown that the Catholic idea will +not win again the control partially lost over the intellectual realm. +Either the human race has a purely natural destiny, or a supernatural +one. If the former, a Trinitarian or Unitarian Church, a Past, +Present, or Future Church, is not necessary. The State and Society are +the highest and all-sufficient organization of the race. If the +latter, there must be a divinely instituted organization, possessing +continuity of life and fixedness of laws, from the origin of the race. +Our friends must admit more or give up more. They are on a road now +which will infallibly bring them face to face with the Catholic +Church. We look with hope to see some of the boldest and most +consistent thinkers of the Unitarians come through into the Catholic +Church by this road, and interpret the genuine rationalism of +Christian doctrine to their own people much better than we can do it. +Dr. Brownson has really demonstrated the whole problem from their own +axioms and definitions, if they would but attend to him. But the good +Doctor, unfortunately for them, has travelled over the road in +seven-league boots, so fast and so far, that it will take at least +twenty-five years for his ancient compeers to come up with him. + +In the review of "Tischendorff's Plea for the Genuineness of the +Gospels," Dr. Hedge has given us an essay marked with his sound and +solid scholarship. It is a valuable contribution to sacred literature, +and we would gladly see volumes of the same sort from his pen. + +The sketch of that singular and gifted person, Francis Newman, the +brother of Dr. Newman, has great interest. It tells us something we +are very glad to know, and could not easily have found out without the +help of the writer. These are always the most interesting and valuable +articles in reviews. The author cannot help giving a few passing cuts +at Dr. Newman. Dr. Newman seems to annoy a great number of people very +much. They seem vexed that he should be a Catholic, and yet extort +from even the unwilling so much homage to his genius. The +"Independent" calls him renegade and apostate, and Bishop Coxe's very +inharmonious organ, misnamed the "Gospel Messenger," calls him +"detected thief," with similar epithets. The "Church Journal" tries to +make believe that his letter to Dr. Pusey is a "wail of despair." Our +Unitarian friend is too much of a gentleman to indulge in such boorish +{428} demeanor, but still he cannot suppress a well-bred sneer. "What +has Dr. Newman ever done for God's humanity? Has the oppression of the +English masses ever weighed upon his heart? Has he ever lifted up his +voice in behalf of our down-trodden little ones? Has he ever thought +of saving men from the great hell of ignorance and superstition, or +are these the safeguards of his precious faith? We have a right to +judge of that faith by its fairest fruit. _Ex pede Herculem_." + +Dr. Newman's conversion seems, in the eyes of Protestants, to have +such a tremendous moral weight, and to carry such a force of argument +in it for the truth of the Catholic Church, that they are obliged to +deny in some plausible way either his intellectual or moral greatness, +in order to escape from it. Does not the author of these sentences +know well, that if the Catholic Church and her clergy were taken away +from the masses and the poor, they would perish in ignorance and vice +while he and his companions were discussing their plans and estimates +for the church of the paulo-post future? Does he not know that Dr. +Newman and a multitude of other gifted men like him are preaching and +working every day among the poorest of the people, while Unitarian +clergymen are ministering to select and intelligent congregations? +Does he know what St. Peter Claver did for the negroes, and can he +point to any Protestant who has done the like? A little more of Dr. +Newman's own conscientiousness in speech would do no harm to some of +his critics. + +The article on "Bushnell on Vicarious Sacrifice" is ably and fairly +written, and all the writer's positive views are compatible with +Catholic doctrine. He commits the great _faux pas_, however, of +ignoring all the post-reformation theology of the Catholic Church, and +speaking as if theological science were confined to Protestants. He +appears also to be unaware that Catholic theologians commonly teach, +after St. Augustine, that God was not bound by his justice to exact +condign satisfaction as the condition of pardoning sin, but was free +to pardon absolutely. It was more glorious both for God and man that +this pardon should be accorded as the fruit of the noblest and most +perfect act of merit possible, rather than given gratuitously. + +"An American in the Cathedrals of Europe" is an article full of the +genuine and pure sentiment with which Mr. Alger's writings abound, and +without a word to mar the pleasure a Catholic would take in reading +it. + +The notices of Dr. Hall and of the University of Michigan have each +their interest and value, and the literary criticisms are, as usual, +in good taste. + + +THE APOSTLESHIP OF PRAYER. +By the Rev. H. Ramière, of the Society of Jesus. Translated from the +latest French edition and revised by a Father of the Society. 12mo, +pp. 393. John Murphy & Co., Baltimore. 1866. + +A most excellent and thorough treatise on prayer. The spirit and +intention of the rev. author are best gained from a perusal of the +introduction, which warms one's heart and gives a new and stronger +impulse to every hope and desire which the Christian reader may have +for the greater glory of God. We cannot, however, entirely agree with +the gloomy and discouraging view which is taken of the success of +Christianity in the world. Christianity is not, nor has it ever been, +a failure; and it is something to which we cannot subscribe when the +author attributes "apparent barrenness" to the incarnation, and +"comparative uselessness" to the precious blood of our Lord Jesus +Christ. Neither do we think it suffices to answer the infidel, "Who +hath aided the Spirit of the Lord, or who hath been his counsellor and +taught him?" when he points us to the great portion of the world yet +unchristianized. And if prayer be good, both individual and +associated; if it be absolutely necessary, as it is in the Christian +economy; if it be, as it were, the soul which gives life to every work +of the Christian; still we do not imagine that of all the means of +grace this alone deserves our earnest thought or demands our undivided +attention. + +We are not called upon, in any sense, to apologize for Christianity. +It is not worthy of us as men of strong faith to treat of religion as +though it were a subject that needed to be excused in the face of the +unbeliever, or which humbly supplicates the notice of the philosopher +and the statesman. The truly great minds which have not professed +Christianity have sought rather {429} to excuse the world for not +submitting to the force of its arguments and to the charms of its +beauty. Christianity is no failure, if there be anything which +deserves the name of success. What other institutions can compare with +it for actual and permanent success? The propagation of the faith, its +preservation, and its enormous diffusion, may well put all past, +present, and future works of man to the blush. What else is it now, +but _the_ great FACT of the world's history and of the world's present +advanced and civilized state? We are not a petty, insignificant sect +of thinkers, nor a despicable school of philosophers, seeking a +momentary acknowledgment from the great unchristian world. On the +contrary, Christianity rules the world; and all that is great and +noble in humanity, all that has sanctified the past, sustains the +present, and inspires hope for the future; all that is free, +civilized, and enlightened in society, depends now for its life, as it +has received its seed, from the divine power and light of the +Christian faith. Truly, we must pray, and that "without ceasing," for +those who are not of the fold of Christ, and for the coming of the +kingdom of God upon earth; and any one who peruses the work before us +will feel the depth of this obligation; and if he has any real, +practical desire for the salvation and sanctification of man, will not +fail to be stimulated to constant and earnest prayer. But have we +reflected, as well as we might, that before men will pray to God they +must first believe in him? The man of enlightened faith prays +naturally; the ignorant and the superstitious are noted for their want +of confidence in prayer. Prayer is the union of the soul with God, and +the better God is known, the better is the heart of man prepared for +the influences of the Holy Spirit. "Whosoever shall call upon the name +of the Lord shall be saved. But how shall they call on him in whom +they have not believed? Or how shall they believe him of whom they +have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher?" We may +urge our faithful Christians to pray for the conversion of the world, +and we may mourn that they do not pray for this end more than they do; +but whatsoever arms God has placed at our disposal for conquering the +world unto himself, we, like good soldiers of Jesus Christ, must use +them with alacrity, with zeal, and, above all, with that spirit of +sacrifice which our holy faith alone has the power to inspire. Whilst +we need not neglect the apostolic manner of preaching the word of God, +we should also lay to heart the oft-repeated and wise admonition of +the Holy Father to make diligent use of the providential means of the +press, to diffuse the knowledge of the Christian faith, and promulgate +the saving principles of strict Christian morality, and thus prevent +defection from the congregation of the just, and enlighten them that +sit in the darkness and in the shadow of death. The people need more +light, more instruction. The masses among non-Catholics are very +ignorant of religion. They are living upon only the poor remnants of +Catholic faith and tradition which have been left to them by the +ruthless hand of the despoiler. None have felt this more than the +clergy and enlightened laity of our own country, where religion is +thrown upon its own merits for support and progress, and where the +hold upon the ancient Christian tradition is so slight; and it is a +happy augury for the conversion of the American people that these +sentiments are beginning to have a practical and encouraging result. +We must make the truth known, for it is that which enlightens man. And +Christianity is truth. There is no form of truth so broad, so +exalting, so truly progressive, so noble and so tree. Men will accept +it when you make it known to them--accept it with joy, and a reverent +enthusiasm. The tone of our remarks must not be misunderstood as +attributing to the spirit of the work before us any want of +appreciation of the great needs of which we have spoken, or that we +think the rev. author displays a want of confidence in the power of +Christian truth. On the contrary, we have seldom met with a book so +urgent in earnestness and so fall of faith. We can only say, in +conclusion, God send the church many more such zealous souls as the +Père Ramière, now that the harvest is so full and the laborers are so +few. + +{430} + + +REPORT OF THE TRIAL OF DR. W. H. STOKES, PHYSICIAN, AND MARY +BLENKINSOP, SISTER SUPERIOR, OF MOUNT HOPE INSTITUTION, BEFORE THE +CIRCUIT COURT FOR BALTIMORE COUNTY. +Reported by Eugene L. Didier. 8vo pamphlet, pp. 202. Baltimore: Kelly +& Piet. 1866. + +The famous Mount Hope case, which was brought to trial in February +last, ended in a verdict for the defendants, and we have here a full +report of it. We trust the projectors of this magnificent _fiasco_ are +abundantly pleased with the fruits of their endeavors, although they +seem to have forgotten that, failing to sustain their indictment, the +odium they sought to fix upon others would be sure to recoil upon +themselves. Hence we think that popular judgment will incline to the +belief that the only conspiracy in the case (if there be any) was upon +the part of the prosecution. The fact that an attempt was made to +deprive the defendants of a plea secured to them by positive law would +rather favor this opinion. We should be happy to believe that +sectarian prejudice had nothing to do in founding this accusation; but +the animus which prompted it will soon be apparent to any one who will +take the trouble to read the charge. The estimable and pious ladies, +whose life of sacrifice in the interests of religion and humanity has +compelled the admiration of the world, are deemed unfit to undertake +their office of charity because they are women! because they are +religious and governed by a foreign priest! This tells the whole +story, and simply means that ladies of the Catholic religion, who +choose to unite in a religious order for the purpose of relieving +human suffering, are unworthy of public sympathy or confidence. We +strongly doubt if all the testimony sought to be introduced on the +trial, could it have been admitted, would have materially changed the +result. To say nothing of the equivocal character of that evidence, as +coming from persons but recently inmates of the institution, and whose +perfect competency to testify is far from certain, we know the +proneness of those living under the government and direction of others +to deem themselves the objects of harsh treatment and neglect. There +is not an establishment of such persons in the country, not even a +common boarding-school, against which similar charges are not +constantly made. The well-known character of these admirable sisters +and their unwearied efforts to do good--for the most part far removed +from human recognition or applause--afford a strong presumption that +the management of their asylum will stand the test of rigorous +scrutiny. + +A case not wholly unlike the present, got up in a similar spirit, in +Boston, some years since, under the Know-Nothing regime, is doubtless +still fresh in public recollection. Affairs directed to the same end +as this of Mount Hope are got up from time to time, but they serve +only to arouse feelings which had much better lie dormant where they +cannot be eradicated, and invoke a spirit entirely opposed to the +plainest dictates of Christian charity. + +The report of the trial appears to be very complete, and we commend it +to those who are at all acquainted with the circumstances of the case, +or have felt any interest in its result. + + +CHRISTIAN MISSIONS: +Their Agents and Their Results. By T. W. M. Marshall. 2 volumes. New +York: Sadliers, No. 31 Barclay street. Reprint from an English +edition. + +It is somewhat late to notice this valuable work; but, as the +publishers have recently sent us a copy, we take the occasion to +recommend it to all who are desirous of knowing what has been +accomplished both by Catholic and Protestant missionaries. + +Mr. Marshall's work has attained a high reputation abroad, and has +been translated into several European languages. It is very thorough, +and its statements are backed up by a vast array of citations, chiefly +from Protestant writers. Catholic missions form a beautiful and +attractive page of ecclesiastical history. Their great success and +abundant fruits are demonstrated beyond a cavil by the author, as they +have been many times before. The majority of Catholics are too +indifferent to the great work of missions, and ought to take a deeper +interest in them than they do. + +The very signal failure of Protestant missions as a whole is also +proved, by Mr. Marshall, in such a way that their advocates cannot +rebut his evidence. Nevertheless, we think there is an unnecessary +amount of satire levelled at the missionaries themselves, and too dark +a shade given to the picture of their labors. Many of them are {431} +certainly men who, if they were Catholic missionaries, would honor +their calling, and who undertook their hopeless task from high and +worthy motives. They have accomplished but little, yet their labors +have not been altogether without results. The same may be said of the +Russian missions. The particular facts stated by Mr. Marshall +concerning the low state of a large part of the Russian clergy, the +violent means used for enforcing conformity to the Russian Church, and +the imperfect instruction given to the ostensible converts, are +indubitable. Yet we believe there are other facts also to be taken +into the account, which tell on the other side, and are necessary to a +perfectly correct view of the true state of the case. A perfectly just +balancing of all the accounts would prove most conclusively that the +Catholic Church alone is adequate to the task of successfully +propagating Christianity. Mr. Marshall has gone very far toward +success in his effort to make this balance, and has written with the +most perfect honesty of purpose. Some of his deductions may be open to +criticism, and his array of facts and testimonies may admit of further +completion; but the general result which he has reached cannot be +substantially set aside or altered. One particular portion of his work +is just now especially valuable, to wit, the estimate he has furnished +from Protestant writers of the vast superiority of Oriental +_Catholics_ over Oriental _Schismatics_ in the Levant. + +We recommend this learned and excellent work to all intelligent +readers as the best and most complete of its kind which has yet +appeared. + + +THE STORY OF KENNETT. +By Bayard Taylor. 12mo., pp. 418. New York: Hurd & Houghton. 1866. + +This is an American story as truly as the Waverley novels are Scotch. +It has done for Pennsylvania and the Quaker traditions what Hawthorne +has for Massachusetts and Puritan life and tradition, and Cooper for +Western New York and the fading reminiscences of Indian and frontier +life. The book is redolent with the sweet aroma of pastoral life, and +that healthy temper and character which are the certain fruit of +honest, independent, and successful frugality and toil. + +We are grateful to the masters of poetry and romance who will seize +and perpetuate the fleeting memories of our beautiful and noble past, +and save for our children those traditions of danger, daring, labor, +love, and self-sacrifice which colored with mystery and beauty the +dreams and aspirations of our childhood. Mr. Taylor is a man of whom +we are proud. His experience as a traveller renders his writings more +distinctively American, while they are entirely free from any +narrowness or provincialism. He deserves the success which follows his +literary labors. The book is handsomely got up, as such a book ought +to be. + + + +AGNES. A Novel. By Mrs. Oliphant. New York: Harper & Brothers. + +This is an artistic, highly-finished story, intensely truthful to +nature, yet sufficiently idealized to give the mind the enjoyment of +appreciating a work of art. The authoress makes some very fine points. +The contemplation of the "Visitation" in the Pitti gallery by the +lonely young wife is a beautiful touch of nature, such as only a woman +could have made. + + +INSTRUCTION AND CATECHISM FOR CONFESSION. +To be used by children preparing to receive the Sacrament of Penance. +32mo., pp. 24. New York. D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1866. + +We are sure that this little book will prove as useful in every +respect as the rev. author could desire. There has been an undoubted +want of some such aid to the ordinary catechism, and every pastor +under whose notice it may come will not fail to welcome it and avail +himself of it. We like it because it is short, to the point, and +written in good plain English. + + +GOOD THOUGHTS FOR PRIEST AND PEOPLE. Translated from the German. By +Rev. Theodore Noethen. 12mo. Albany. Nos. 1 and 2. + +These are the kind of books which we earnestly desire to see among the +good Catholic books which every family ought to have and read. The +clergy will also find these "Good Thoughts" admirably adapted to their +wants, as furnishing suggestive matter for {432} sermons and parochial +instructions. Its price, however, will, we fear, defeat its usefulness +in part by confining it to a comparatively limited circulation. + + +MAY CAROLS AND HYMNS AND POEMS. +By Aubrey de Vere. 1 vol., 32mo., pp. 232. New York: Lawrence Kehoe. +1866. + +Of the two parts comprised in this welcome little volume, the longest, +and, to our taste, by all odds the best, is that originally published +in London under the title of "May Carols." It is a serial poem, +devoted partly to the praises of the Blessed Virgin, and in a +subordinate degree to the thoughts of natural beauty suggested by the +most joyous and poetical month of the young year. If it reminds us +frequently of "In Memoriam," the resemblance cannot be charged as a +plagiarism, and at most is only superficial. There is a Tennysonian +curtness of phrase, a pregnant significance and neatness of expression +in many of the lines, which are equally rare and refreshing in +devotional poetry. Charmingly delicate in execution, and profoundly +religious in sentiment, Mr. De Vere's "Carols" are a valuable addition +to Catholic literature, and will add no little renown to the author's +reputation as a poet. The "Hymns and Sacred Poems" have a value of +their own for the thoughts which they contain, though we cannot accord +them the same praise which we cheerfully render to the first and +larger portion of Mr. Kehoe's tastefully printed little volume. + + +IN MEMORIAM OF RT. REV. JOHN B. FITZPATRICK. +Boston: Patrick Donahoe. 1866. + +A neatly executed pamphlet, containing an account of the funeral +obsequies of the late distinguished and beloved bishop of Boston, and +three funeral discourses: one by Archbishop McCloskey at the +interment, another by Bishop De Goesbriand at the Month's Mind, and a +third by the well-known and eloquent Father Haskins of Boston, +delivered in one of the parish churches. The friends of the deceased +prelate will find in it a valuable and pleasing memento of the +departed. + + +THE HISTORY OF IRELAND, FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD +TO THE ENGLISH INVASION. +By the Rev. Geoffrey Keating, D.D. Translated from the original +Gaelic, and copiously annotated by John O'Mahony, with a map showing +the location of the ancient clans, and a Topographical Appendix. 8vo., +pp. 746. New York: James B. Kirker. 1866. + +This is a new edition of a translation of Dr. Keating's History of +Ireland, published in this city a few years ago. The original work as +it came from the pen of Dr. Keating has met with both praise and +censure from Irish scholars. Some critics have thought the learned +author placed too much faith in the legends of the ancient Irish. The +work, even if a portion of it must be classified as "doubtful," is a +valuable record of the deeds of Ireland's chiefs when she was a +nation. The notes of the translator are voluminous and critical, and +help to throw much light upon passages which, to the ordinary reader, +are obscure. + +We regret that the publisher has seen fit to leave out the "map +showing the location of the ancient clans" of Ireland, which appeared +in the first edition published by Mr. Haverty. From the wording of the +title-page, one would expect to find it in its proper place. But it is +not there. + + +MAXWELL DREWITT. +A Novel. By F. G. Trafford. Harper & Brothers. + +This is an Irish tale, exceedingly well written, and just and manly in +its tone and sentiment. + + +L. Kehoe announces the early publication of "CHRISTINE, AND OTHER +POEMS," by George H. Miles, Esq. The volume will be brought out in a +superior style of binding and typography, worthy of the high merit of +the poetry. + + + +BOOKS RECEIVED. + +From JAMES O'KANE, New York. Betsey Jane Ward, (better half to +Artemus) her Book of Goaks with a hull Akkownt of the Coartship and +Maridge to A 4 Said Artemus, and Mister Ward's Cutting-up with the +Mormon fare Secks with Pikturs drawed by Mrs. B. Jane Ward. 12mo, +pp. 312. + [Verbatim;--Transcriber.] + + +FROM THE AMERICAN NEWS COMPANY. +Doctor Kemp. The Story of a life with a Blemish. 8vo, pamphlet. + + +From D. & J. SADLIER & CO., New York. Nos. 13, +14, 15, 16, and 17 of D'Artaud's Lives of the Popes. + + +From the office of the AVE MARIA, Notre Dame, Ind. Specimen sheet of +the Golden Wreath for the month of May, composed of daily +considerations on the Triple Crown of our Blessed Lady's joys, +sorrows, and glories. With Hymns set to Music for May devotions. + +-------- + +{433} + +THE CATHOLIC WORLD. + + +VOL. III, NO. 16-JULY, 1866. + + + +[ORIGINAL.] + +THE NEAREST PLACE TO HEAVEN. + + +There are some places in this world nearer to heaven than others. I +know of a place which I think is the nearest. Whether you may think so +I do not know, but I would like you to see it and judge for yourself. +Please to go to France, then to Paris; then take a walk a little +distance outside of the Barrière de Vaugirard, and you will come to a +small village called Issy. When you have walked about five minutes +along its narrow and straggling street, which is the continuation of +the Rue de Vaurigard, you win see on your left a high, ugly stone +wall, and if I did not ask you to pull the jangling bell at the +porter's lodge and enter, you might pass by and think there was +nothing worthy of your notice about the place. You say you have not +time to stop now, that you have an appointment to dine at the Hôtel +des Princes, in Paris, but that some other time you will be most +happy, etc. Wait a moment, perhaps I may be able show you something +quite as good as a dinner, even at the Hôtel des Princes. Ring the +bell. The sturdy oaken door seems to open itself with a click. That is +the way with French doors; but it is the porter's doing. When he hears +the bell, he pulls at a rope hanging in his lodge, which communicates +with the lock of the door. You are free to enter. Go in. But you +cannot pass beyond the porter's lodge without giving an account of +your self. You cannot get into this heavenly place without passing +through the porter's review, anymore than you can get into the real +heaven without passing the scrutiny of St. Peter. I hope you are able +to satisfy the "Eh; b'en, M'sieu'?" of good old père Hanicq, who is +porter here. He is a _père_, you understand, by the title of affection +and respect, and not by virtue of ordination. You may not think it +worth your while to be over humble and deferential in your deportment +towards porters as a general rule; but I think you may be so now; for, +if I do not mistake, you are speaking to a venerable old man who will +die in the odor of sanctity. Père Hanicq is not paid for his services, +{434} troublesome and arduous as you would very soon find his to be if +you were porter even here. He is porter for the love of God. You see +he does not stop making the rosary, which is yet unfinished in his +hand, while he talks to you. He does not recompense himself by that +business either, as shoemaker porters, tailor porters, and the like +eke out their scanty salaries; but it enables him to find some +well-earned sous to give away to others poorer than himself. You say +this lodge is not a very comfortable place, with its cold brick floor. +It is not. Neither is that narrow roost up the step-ladder a very +luxurious bed. Right again, it is not. But the Père Hanicq is not over +particular about these things. Besides, he is not worse off in this +respect than the hundred other people who live in this place nearest +to heaven. Indeed, most of them have a much narrower and drearier +apartment than his. Now that you have said a pleasant word to the good +old soul, (for he dearly loves a kindly salutation, and it is the only +imperfection I think he has,) you may pass the inner door, and you +observe that you are in a square courtyard, a three-story irregularly +shaped building occupying two sides of it; stables and outhouses a +third, and the street wall the fourth. Before you go further, I would +advise you to look into one of those tumble-down looking outhouses. It +looks something like a rag and bottle shop. It is a shop, and the +Almoner of the poor keeps it. Here the residents of these buildings +may find bargains in old odds and ends of second-hand, and it may be +seventy times seventh-hand furniture, either left or cast off by +former occupants. Here the Almoner,--that voluble and sweet tempered +young man in a long black cassock,--disposes of these articles of +trade, enhancing their value by all the superlatives he can remember, +for the benefit of certain old crones and hobbling cripples, whom +perhaps you saw on the right of the courtyard receiving soup and other +food from another young man in a long black cassock, who is the +Almoner's assistant. You don't know it, perhaps, but I can tell you +that the Almoner's assistant, as he ladles out the soup and divides +the bread and meat, is mentally going down on his knees and kissing +the ragged and worn-out clothes of these old bodies whom he helps, for +the sake of Him whom they represent, and who will one day say to him: +"Because you did it unto the least of these my brethren, you did it +unto me." + +Now you may go into the house, after you have been struck with the +fact how completely that high stone wall shuts out the noise of the +street. You say, however, that you hear a band playing. Yes; that +comes from an "Angel Guardian" house over the way, like Father +Haskins's house in Roxbury, Massachusetts (there ought to be angels, +you know, not far off from the nearest place to heaven), where the +"gamins," as the Parisians call them,--the "mudlarks" or "dock rats," +as we call them,--are taken care of, fed, clothed, instructed, and +taught an honest trade, also for the love of Him who will one day say +to the Père Bervanger and to Father Haskins what I have before said +about the Almoner's assistant. + +Well, here is the house. This is the first story, half underground on +one side, and consequently a little damp and dingy. Here to the right +is the Prayer Hall. This has a wooden floor, (a rare exception,) +wooden seats fixed to the wainscoting, and here and there a few +benches made of plain oak slabs, which look as if they had lately come +out of one of our backwoods saw-mills. A large crucifix hangs on the +wall, and a table is near the door, at which the one who reads prayers +kneels. The ninety-nine others kneel down anywhere on the bare floor, +without choosing the softest spot, if there be any such. Those +portraits hanging around the walls represent the superiors of a +community of men who are entrusted {435} with the guardianship of this +place nearest to heaven. The most of those faces, as you see, are not +very handsome, as the world reckons handsome, but I assure you they +make up for that by the beauty of their souls. The morning prayers are +said here at half-past five the year round, followed by a half hour's +meditation, and the evening prayers at half-past eight. The hundred +residents come here too just before dinner, to read a chapter of the +New Testament on their knees, devoutly kissing the Word of God before +and after reading it; and then each one silently reviews the last +twenty-four hours, and enters into account with himself to see how +much he has advanced in that particular Christian virtue of which his +soul stands the most in need. It is a good preparation for dinner, and +I would advise you to try it, even if you cannot do it on your knees. +It is a perfect toilette for the soul. Here also you will find the +afore-mentioned hundred people at half-past six o'clock, just before +supper, listening to a short reading on some spiritual subject, +followed by a sort of conference given by the Superior, or head of the +house, so full of unction and sweet counsel that it fairly lifts the +heart above all earthly things, and seems to hallow the very place +where it is spoken. + +Turn now to the left. That door in the corner opens into a chapel +dedicated to St. Francis of Assisi. Here the Père Hanicq and the few +servants of the house hear mass every morning, and begin the day with +the best thought I know of, the thought of God. Keeping still to the +left you pass into the Recreation Hall; and if this be recreation day, +you will see congregated here the liveliest and happiest set of faces +that it has ever been your good fortune to meet in this world. +Billiards, backgammon, chess, chequers, and other games more simple +and amusing in their character, are here; and I can tell you that they +are like a group of merry children playing and amusing themselves +before their heavenly Father. You might pass the recreation days here +for many a year before you would hear an angry word, or a cutting +retort, or witness a jealous frown or a sad countenance. Notice that +smiling old gentleman with a bald head capped by the black calotte. +That is the Père T----. He is very fond of a game of billiards, and I +know he loves to be on the winning side; the principal reason of +which, however, you may not divine, but I know: it gives him a chance +to pass his cue to some one who has been beaten, and obliged to +retire. And many learn by that good old father's example to do the +same kind and charitable act; and, take it all in all, I am inclined +to think this room is not much further off from heaven than many other +places about this dear old house. + +Of course everybody is talking here, except the chess-players, and at +such a rate, that it is quite a din; but hark! a bell rings: all is +instantly silent, the games are stopped, the very half-finished +sentence is clipped in two, and each one departs to some assigned +duty. They are taught that the bell which regulates their daily +exercises is the voice of God, and that when he calls there is nothing +else worthy of attention. I have no doubt they are right: have you? + +There is one other place to visit on this ground floor, the Refectory. +A long stone-floored hall with two rows of tables on either side, and +one at the upper end where sits the head of the house, a high +old-fashioned pulpit on one side, the large crucifix on the wall, and +that is the Refectory. It looks dark and cold, and so it is; dark, +because the windows are small and high; and cold, because there is no +stove or other heating apparatus--a want which may also be felt in +the other rooms you have visited; and as the windows are left open for +air some time before these rooms are occupied, it must be confessed +there is a rarity and keenness about the {436} atmosphere, and a +degree of temperature about the cold stones in mid-winter, which are +not pleasant to delicately nourished constitutions. No conversation +ever takes place in the refectory except on recreation days, or on the +occasion of a visit from the Archbishop of Paris. At all other times +there is reading going on from the pulpit, either from the Holy +Scripture or some religions book, which enables the listeners to free +their minds from too engrossing an attention to the more sensual +business of eating and drinking: not that their plain and frugal table +ever presents very strong temptations to gourmandize! + +As you are American, and accustomed to your hot coffee or strong +English black tea, with toast, eggs, and beefsteak for breakfast, I +fear the meal which these hundred young men are making off a little +cold _vin ordinaire_, well tempered with colder water, and dry bread, +during the short space of twelve minutes, (except during Lent and on +other fast days, when they do not go to the refectory at all before +twelve o'clock,) will appear exceedingly frugal, not to say hasty. You +observe, doubtless, that short as is the time allotted to breakfast, +nearly every one is reading in a book while he is eating. Do you wish +to know the reason? I will tell you. It is not to pass away time, but +to make use of every moment of time that passes. None in the world are +more alive to the shortness and the value of time than the hundred +young men before you. Every moment of the day has its own allotted +duty; and when there is an extra moment, like this one at breakfast, +when two things can be done at once, they do not fail to make use of +it. They take turns with each other in the duty of waiting on the +tables, except on Good Friday, when the venerable Superior, and no +less venerable fathers, who are the teachers of these young men, don +the apron, and serve out the food proper in quantity and quality for +that day. + +Now that you have seen the first story, you may "mount," as the French +say, to the second. If you have not been here before, I warn you to +obtain a guide, or amidst the odd stairways and rambling corridors you +may lose your way. This is the chapel for the daily Mass. It is both +plain and clean, and you will possibly notice nothing particular in it +save the painted beams of the ceiling, the only specimen of such +ornament, I think, in the whole house. It is there a long time, for +this is a very ancient building, having once been the country-seat of +Queen Margaret of Anjou; and this little chapel may have been one of +her royal reception-rooms for all you or I know. + +Hither, as I have said, come the young Levites to assist at the daily +sacrifice. I believe I have not told you before that this is a house +of retreat from the world of prayer and of study for youthful +aspirants to the priesthood of the Holy Church. I do not know what +impression it makes upon you, but the sight of that kneeling crowd of +young men in their cassocks and winged surplices, absorbed in prayer +before the altar at the early dawn of day, when the ray of the rising +sun is just tinging the tops of the trees with a golden light, and the +open windows of the little chapel admit the sound of warbled music of +birds, and the sweet perfumes from the garden just below, enamelled +with flowers, is to me a scene higher than earth often reveals to us +of heaven's peace and rapt devotion in God. Mass is over now, and you +may go, leaving only those to pray another half hour who have this +morning received the Holy Communion. + +All these rooms which you see here and there, to the right and to the +left, are the cells of the Seminarians, about eight by fifteen feet in +size, and large enough for their purposes, though certainly not equal +to your cosy study at home in America, or to the grand _salon_ you +have engaged at the Hôtel des Princes. As you are a visitor, perhaps +you may go in and look at one. There is {437} no visiting each other's +rooms among the young men themselves at any time, save for charity's +sake when one is ill. An iron bedstead, with a straw bed, a table, a +chair, a crucifix, a vexing old clothes-press, whose drawers won't +open except by herculean efforts, and when open have an equally +stubborn fashion of refusing to be closed; a broom, a few books, +paper, pen and ink, a pious picture or statue, and you have the full +inventory of any of these rooms. As they need no more, they have no +more: a rule of life that might make many a one of us far happier than +we are, tortured by the care of a thousand and one things which +consume our time, worry the mind, and are not of the slightest +possible utility to ourselves, and the cause, it may be, of others' +envy and discomfort. I am aware that, as you pass along the corridors, +you think it is vacation time, or that every one is absent just now +from their rooms, all is so silent. But wait a moment. Ah! the bell +again. Presto! Every door flies open, and the corridor is alive with +numbers of the young men going off to a class or to prayers. Now that +they are gone, suppose you peep into one of the rooms again; that is, +if some newcomer, not yet having learned the rule to the contrary, has +left the key in his door. Ah! he was just writing as the bell rang; +the pen is yet wet with ink. Pardon! I do not intend that you shall +read what he has written, but you may see that he has actually left +his paper not only with an unfinished sentence, but even at a half +formed letter. That is obedience, my friend, to the voice of God, +which I have already told you is recognized in the first stroke of +that bell. I suppose you may read the inscription he has placed at the +foot of his crucifix, since it is in plain sight. "I sat down under +the shadow of my Well-Beloved, whom I desired, and his fruit was sweet +to my palate." (Cant, ii. 3.) Yes, you are right. It is a good motto +for one who has sacrificed every worldly enjoyment for the sake of +that higher and purer joy, the love of Jesus crucified. You are +noticing, I perceive, that everything looks very neat and clean, that +the bed is nicely made, and what there is, is in order. They have tidy +housekeepers, you say, here. So they have, and a large number of them, +too,--one to each room--the Seminarian himself. + +I think you may "mount" another stairway now--when you find it--to the +third story. I just wish you to step into that door on the right. It +is the Chapel of St. Joseph; and if you happen to enter here after +night prayers you will see a few of the young men kneeling before the +altar, over which is a charming little painting representing the +Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph holding the Child Jesus by the hand. +They come to pay a short visit in spirit to the Holy Family before +retiring to rest. "Beautiful thought!" I believe you. I see your eyes +are a little dimmed by tears. What is the matter? "Oh! nothing; only I +was thinking that by coming up a few more steps in this house, one has +mounted a good many steps nearer heaven." Not ready to go Oh! I +understand, you wish to pay a little visit yourself to the Holy +Family. Good. Now, along this corridor, around this corner, down that +stairway which seems to lead nowhere,--take care of your +head!--through those doors, and you are in a much larger chapel. All +finished in polished oak, as you see, with a bright waxed floor. The +seminarians sit in those stalls which run along the whole length of +either side of the chapel. Here, on Sundays and festivals, they come +to celebrate the divine offices of the Church. I wish you could hear +them responding to each other in the solemn Gregorian chant. Listen; +they are singing, and only to and for the praise of God, for no +strangers are admitted, so there is no chance for the applause of men. +Possibly you may be sharp-eyed enough to note those mantling cheeks +and detect the thrill of emotion in their voices as the swelling +chorus fills the whole building with melody. Truly, {438} I wonder not +that you are moved, for the song of praise rises amid the clouds of +grateful incense from chaste lips, and from pure hearts given in the +flower and spring-time of life to God alone. I can tell you, that +whether their voices are singing the mournful cadence of the Kyrie, +the exultant sentences of the Gloria, the imposing chant of the Credo, +the awe-struck exclamations of the Sanctus, or the plaintive refrain +of the Agnus Dei; or whether they respond in cheerful notes to the +salutations of the sacrificing priest at the Altar, one other song +their hearts are always singing here: "Laetatus sum in his quae dicta +sunt mihi, in domum Domini ibimus"--I was glad when they said unto me, +we will go into the house of the Lord. A heavenly joy is filling their +ardent souls, moved by the grace of the Holy Ghost, and is reflected +from their countenances as the sunlight sparkles on the ripples of a +quiet, shaded lake, when its waters are gently stirred by a passing +zephyr wafted from the wings of God's unseen angel of the winds. + +Now you may go out into the garden. A charming esplanade directly +behind the house you have visited. Well-kept gravelled walks stretch +here and there through a glittering parterre of flowers of every hue +and perfume. A pretty fountain sends its sparkling drops into the air +in the centre of a basin stocked with gold-fish, which are very fond +of being fed with bread-crumbs from the hand of saintly old Father +C----. You do not know the Père C---- you say. Then you may envy me. I +know him. Shall I tell you what he said to me one day? + +"Tenez, mon cher, on doit prier le, Bon Dieu toujours selon le premier +mot de l'office de None, 'Mirabilia,' et non pas selon le premier mot +de Tierce, 'Legem pone.'" God bless his dear old white head! it makes +my heart leap in my bosom to think of him. Where were you? Oh! yes, +beside the fountain. On each side of the garden is an avenue of trees +and in one corner a little maze, hiding a pretty statue of the Blessed +Virgin at whose feet that Almoner of the poor has placed a little +charity-box, thinking doubtless, and not without reason, that here, +hidden by the trees and close shrubbery, some one, you for instance, +might like to do something with a holy secrecy which shall one day +find its reward from the Heavenly Father of the poor, openly. So I +will just turn my head while you put in a donation fitting for an +American who has a suite of rooms at the Hôtel des Princes. I know you +are loth to leave this pretty spot. I have had equal difficulty in +dragging you away from the other places to which I directed your +steps; but you have not seen all. Come along. Cross the garden. Here, +behind the large chapel is a curious grotto all inlaid with shells, +floor, walls and roof. This is the place where Bossuet, Fénelon and +Mr. Tronson held some conferences about a theological subject which +need not take up your time now. Turn up that winding walk to the left, +and you see a little shrine dedicated to Our Lady, to which the young +men go to celebrate the month of May; and it is a quiet little nook +where one may drop in a moment and forget the world. The world is not +worth remembering all the tune, you know. As you pass to the middle of +the garden again you notice a long archway, built under a high wall. +Before you enter it please first notice that fine terra-cotta statue +of the Virgin and Child near it, and take off your hat in passing, as +all do here. This archway passes under a road, which is screened from +view by high walls on either side, which also prevent the grounds you +are in from being seen from the road. I have often thought about that +high-walled road running through the middle of this place nearest to +heaven. How many of us pass along our way of life, stony, toilsome, +dry and dusty, like this road, and are often nearer heaven and +heavenly company than we think; and how many others there are we know +and love, whose road runs close beside, {439} if not at times directly +through the Paradise of the Church of God on earth, and know it not. +Oh! if they did but once suspect it, how quickly would they leap over +the wall! + +Now you are through the archway. Directly before you is a magnificent +avenue of trees, all trimmed and clipped as it pleases this methodical +people, and here is a fine place for a walk in recreation. The +seminarians recreate themselves, as they do all other acts, as a duty +and by rule. One hour and a quarter after dinner, ten minutes at +half-past four, and an hour and a half after supper appears to +suffice, although I am afraid it is rather a short allowance. Silence +is the rule during the other twenty-one hours out of the twenty-four, +and broken only by duty or necessity. How do you like it? Be assured +it is profitable to those who are desirous of living near to God. +Recollect what Thomas à Kempis says in his "Imitation of Christ:" "In +silentio et quiete proficit anima devota"--In silence and quiet the +devout soul makes great progress. You observe also that the reverend +teachers of these young men are taking recreation with them. Yes; and +in this as in every other duty of this life of prayer and of study +they subject themselves to the same rule that they impose on others. +Example, example, my friend, is the master teacher, and succeeds where +words cannot. They have learned beforehand in their own school the +lessons of chastity, obedience, poverty, patience, meekness, humility +and charity, of silence, and every other Christian mortification of +our wayward senses which they are called upon to teach here. They have +a novitiate adjoining this house, called the "Solitude," and their +motto is inscribed over the little portal in the stone wall which +separates the two enclosures. This is it, "O beata Solitude! O sola +Beatitudo!" There is a short sentence, my friend, which will serve as a +subject of meditation for you, for a longer time than you imagine. +Look at the Père M----, the reverend superior. What gentleness of soul +beams from that kindly countenance! It makes one think of St. Philip +Neri. Ah! and there is the Père P----, with a face like St. Vincent of +Paul, and a body like nobody's but his own, all deformed as it is by +rheumatism. I don't ask you to kiss the hem of his cassock for +reverence sake, for that might wound his humility, and he might +moreover knock you down with his crooked elbow, but if you could see +what place the angels are getting ready for him up in heaven, I think +you would wish to do so. And all the others, old or young--bowed with +age or strong of arm and firm in step--you will find but little +difference in them. They are all cast in about the same mould, of a +shape which only a life, and a purpose of life such as theirs could +form. You would like to know what that young man is about, would you, +running from one knot of talkers and walkers to another, saluting +them, and saying something to each? Listen; he is repeating the +password of the house. The password? Even so. And is it secret? Yes, +and a secret too. It is the secret of a holy life, the holy life to be +led here, and not to be forgotten, where it is the most likely to be, +in the dissipation of recreation. Lay it up to heart, for it will do +you good. "Messieurs, Sursum corda!" + +This building on your right as you come out of the archway is a +ball-court. If you will step into the "cuisine," as a sort of wire +cage is called, in which you can see without being in the way, and the +irregular roof of which serves admirably to cause the ball to come +down crooked, and "hard to take," you may see some good ball-playing; +and if you know anything about the game, I am sure all will offer at +once to vacate their places and give up the pleasure of playing to +please you. Somehow, these seminarians are always seeking to please +some one else. Fraternal charity, which prefers the happiness of +others to its own, is cultivated here to such a degree, that I tell +you again you will not find a place {440} nearer heaven; where charity +is made perfect and consummated in God. + +Turn down now to the left for a few steps, and look to the right. +Another beautiful avenue. The trees branching from the ground rise up +and mingle together on all sides so as to form a complete arch. A +building at the end. Yes; that is the place of all places in this +lovely enclosure the most venerated by all who come to pass a part of +their lives in dear old Issy. It is the chapel of Lorette. Walk up the +avenue and examine it. It has a façade, as you see, of strict +architectural taste. I know that you, being an American, would very +soon scrape the weather-beaten stones, paint up the wood-work, and put +a new and more elegant window in front, if you were in charge. Perhaps +it might improve it, perhaps not. Standing as it does alone, out there +in the midst of extensive grounds, it makes you think of the Holy +House of Loretto in Italy, of which you know something, I suppose, and +of which, indeed, the little chapel inside is an exact copy, and hence +has obtained its name. Let me say a word about it before you go in, +for no one is expected to break the religious silence which the young +levites here are taught should reign about the tabernacle where +reposes the sacred and hidden presence of Jesus Christ in the Holy +Eucharist. It is this chapel, especially dedicated to his own dear and +blessed mother, that they have chosen for his dwelling-place among +them, as her home at Nazareth was also his. It is what you might +expect. The Mother and the Son go together. A childlike and tender +devotion to her whom he chose for the human source of his incarnate +life, through which we are elevated and born anew unto God, cannot be +separated from the profound act of adoration which humanity, nay, all +creation, must pay to him who is her Son, the first-born of all +creatures. His mysterious incarnate presence is with us always in the +Holy Eucharist, and will be, as he promised, unto the consummation of +the world; and the priest, by the power of his own divine word, is its +human source. You remember the saying of St. Augustine: "O venerable +dignity of the priest, in whose hands, as in the womb of the Virgin, +the Son of God is incarnate every day!" + +Enter. On the wall to your left, just inside the outer door you see +this inscription: + + "Ilic Verbum caro factam est, et habitavit in nobis." [Footnote 69] + + [Footnote 69: "Here the Word was made flesh, + and dwelt amongst us."] + +On the wall directly opposite, this: + + Sta venerabundus, + Qui allunde ut stares veneris, + Lauretanam Deiparae domum admiraturus. + Angusta tota est, + Toto tamen Christiano orbe angusto, + FACTUS EST HOMO. + Abbreviatum igitur aeterni patris verbum + Hocce in angulo cum angelis adora; + Silet hic et loquaci silentio: + Beatae quippe virginis matris sinus. + Cathedra docentis est. + Audi verbum absconditum, et quid sibi velit attende. + Venerare domum filii hominis, + Scholam Christi, + Cunabula Verbi. [Footnote 70] + + [Footnote 70: "Stand in awe, ye who have come hither from afar to + admire the Lorettan house of the Mother of God. The whole is but + narrow and strait: however, the whole Christian world is but narrow + in which the God made man suffered straitness. Wherefore, adore with + the angels the straitened word of the Eternal Father. He is silent + here, but with an eloquent silence. For the bosom of the Blessed + Virgin Mother is the seat of Wisdom. Hear the Hidden Word, and + listen attentively to what he wills of thee. Venerate the house of + the Son of Man, the school of Christ, the cradle of the Word."] + +The door on the right leads into the sacristy, where the priest puts +on his vestments. On the panel of this door you read: + + "Sanctificamini omnes ministri altaris. + Munda sint omnia." [Footnote 71] + + [Footnote 71: "Be ye holy, all ye ministers of the altar. Let all + things be pure and clean."] + +On the wall over the door is this inscription around a heart: + + "Quid volo nisi ut ardeat?--S. Luc. xii 49." [Footnote 72] + + [Footnote 72: "What will I but that it burn?"] + +Opposite the sacristy door is the door of the chapel, but I wish you +to read the other inscriptions on these walls before you enter there. +There are two more in this entry-way: + + "Ilic Maria, Patris Sponsa, de Spiritu Sancto + concepit." [Footnote 73] + + [Footnote 73: "Here Mary, the spouse of the Father, conceived of the + Holy Ghost." ] + +{441} + + "Sile; + Huc enim, dum omnia + silerent, + Omnipotens sermo + de regalibus + sedibus advenit; + Vel aeternum aeterni + Patris Verbum + Siluit; + Vel otioso Deum adorat silentio." [Footnote 74] + + [Footnote 74: "Keep silence: for hither, while all things were in + silence, the Almighty Word leapt down from heaven from his royal + throne. Here the Eternal Word of the Eternal Father became silent, + and adores God in tranquil silence."] + +In an adjoining room are several others, among which I think the +following are worthy of your notice: + + "Signum magnum apparuit in terra. + Amabile commercium, admirabile mysterium, + JESUS VIVENS IN MARIA. + VENITE, VIDETE, ADORATE. + VENITE + Ad templum Domini, ad incarnationis verbi + cubiculum, + Ad sanctuarium ad quo habitat Dominus. + Et de quo, ut sponsus, procedit de thalamo suo. + VIDETE + Ancillam, Patris sponsam, Virginem Dei matrem, + Adae fillam, Spiritus Sancti sacellum, + Mariam totius Trinitatis domiciliam, + Angelo nuntiante effectam. + ADORATE + Jesum habitantem in Matre, + Ut imperatorem in regno, ut pontificem in templo, + Ut sponsum in thalamo. + Ilic requies, hic gloria, hic summa laus conditoris: + Hic habitabo quoniam elegi eam." [Footnote 75] + + [Footnote 75: "A great sign appeared on the earth, a lovely union, a + wondrous mystery, Jesus living in Mary. Come, see, adore. Come to + the temple of the Lord, to the cradle of the incarnate Word, to the + sanctuary in which the Lord dwelleth. From which he goeth forth as a + spouse from his bridal chamber. See, by the annunciation of the + angel, a handmaiden made spouse of the Father, a virgin the Mother + of God, a daughter of Adam the shrine of the Holy Ghost, Mary, the + resting-place of the whole Trinity. Adore Jesus dwelling in his + mother, as an emperor on his throne, as a priest in the temple, as a + spouse in his chamber. Here is the rest, here the glory, here the + supreme praise of the Creator. Here will I dwell, because I have + chosen her."] + + "Omnes + Famelici, accedite + ad escas: + Domus haec abundat + Punibus." [Footnote 76] + + [Footnote 76: "O all ye of the family of God, draw near to the + banquet. This house is full of bread."] + + + "Hic + Sapientia + Miscuit Vinum, + Posuit mensam, + Paravit omnia. + Qui bibunt, + Non sitlent amplius; + Qui edunt, + Nunquam esurient; + Qui epulantur, + Vivent in aeternum. + Bibite ergo et inebriamini, + Comedite et saturabimini; + Effundite cum gaudio animas vestras + In voce confessionis et epulationis + Sonus est epulantis." [Footnote 77] + + [Footnote 77: "Here the divine wisdom mingleth her wine, spreadeth + her table, and maketh all things ready. They who drink shall not + thirst any more. They who eat shall never hunger. They who feast + shall live for ever. Drink, therefore, and be inebriated. Eat and be + filled. Pour forth your souls with joy in the songs of thanksgiving + and rejoicing. There is a sound as of one feasting."] + + + "Omnes + Sitentes, venite + ad aquas; + Locus iste scaturit + Fontibus." [Footnote 78] + + [Footnote 78: "All ye who thirst, come ye to the waters. This place + gushes with fountains."] + + + "Hic + Fons fontium, + Et acervus tritici, + CHRISTUS, + Unde sumunt angeli, + Replentur sancti. + Satiantur universi. + Ilic + Ager fertilis + Et congregatio aquarum, + MARIA, + Unde, velut de quodam + Divinitatis oceano. + Omnium emanant + Flumina gratiarum." [Footnote 79] + + [Footnote 79: "Here is the fount of fountains, and heap of wheat, + Christ; of which the angels partake, the saints are replenished, and + the whole universe is satiated. Here is the fruitful field and + meeting of the waters, Mary; whence, as from a kind of ocean of + divinity, flow out the streams of all graces." ] + + + "Si + Tu es Christri bonus odor, + Accede; + Caminus Mariae + Altare thymiamatum est, + Caminus charitatis, + Cujus ostium + Hostes non excipit, + Sed hostias amoris. + Huc vota, huc corda, viatores. + Huc pectora." [Footnote 80] + + [Footnote 80: "If thou art the good odor of Christ, draw near. This + chamber of Mary is the altar of incense, the home of charity, whose + door receiveth not enemies, but the victims of love. Hither, ye + wayfarers, bring your vows, your hearts, and your affections."] + +Before you look at the real chapel for which this building was +erected, just step out of that door opposite to the one by which you +entered. A little cemetery. Here repose, in simple, humble graves, the +bodies of the deceased superiors and directors of the congregation of +St. Sulpice, in whom and whose seminary you have shown so much +interest during this visit under the guidance of your humble servant. +Here, in this little cemetery, beneath the shadow of the sacred chapel +they have loved so well, in the very home, as it were, where so many +holy souls have lived, and learned the lessons of perfection, and +where, God grant, many more such may yet live and learn the same, they +have laid themselves down to rest from their {442} labors, peacefully +resigning themselves to the common fate; yet privileged in this, that +their dust mingles with earth hallowed by the footsteps of saints. I +should like to write an inscription for the door of that cemetery. It +is this, "Et mors, et vita vestra absconditae sunt cum Christo in +Deo," for never in the history of Christianity, do I think, have men +realized like them, in their lives and in their death, so fully those +words of St. Paul. + +Return now to the entry and pass within those gilded doors. This is +the chapel. The walls are frescoed, as you see, and in imitation of +the walls, now defaced, of the original chapel at Loretto. There is a +pretty marble altar and tabernacle where reposes the Holy of Holies; +and above the altar is a grating filling up the entire width of the +chapel, on which are attached a large number of silver and gilt +hearts, little remembrances left by the departing seminarians at their +beloved shrine of Jesus and Mary. Behind the grate you can discern the +statue made many hundred years ago, and sent to this chapel as a gift +from the Holy House at Loretto in 1855. I know that your American +taste will not be gratified by the appearance of either the statue or +its decorations; but--America is not all the world. Keep that in mind, +and it may save you a good deal of interior discomfort, whether you +journey in other lands, or never stir from home. + +Now I leave you, for I know you are tired of sight-seeing and want a +moment of' repose--and, may I not also add, a little time to pray +here? The seminarians are coming in to make their daily visit, for it +is a quarter to five o'clock. Oh! sweetest moments of the Issian's +day! Here he comes and kneels at the feet of Jesus and Mary, and +drinks in those silent lessons which reveal truths to the heart that +no man can teach. Here the soul is ravished away for a while from +earth and all its carking cares, anxieties, temptations, and +afflictions, and reposes peacefully in the loving embrace of its God. +"Here," indeed, "is the home of charity, whose door receiveth not +enemies, but the victims of love. Hither you may bring your vows, your +hearts, and your affections." Remain you, then, and pray awhile with +them; for of a truth you are with the congregation of the just, and +not far off from heaven. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +A MAY BREEZE. + + + As fragrant blooms by blushing orchard shed, + When spring's advancing season ripens fast, + Oh! such the blossoms which the heart has fed + With all the dewy sweetness of the past. + + But like those winds whose stormy passage sweeps + The wailing trees, yet leaves fair fruit behind, + Life's changing scenes, which man still hourly weeps. + Pledge fruit, than blooms more constant and more kind. + +------ + +{443} + + +From the Lamp. + + +UNCONVICTED; OR, OLD THORNELEY'S HEIRS. + + +CHAPTER II. + +WHICH IS ELUCIDATORY AND RETROSPECTIVE. + +Before resuming the thread of my narrative I must needs go back a +little, and see in what relation the different people who are to play +the principal parts in this true history stand to one another. + +I have said that Hugh Atherton and I had been friends from the time we +were boys at school, he being some five years my junior. He and Lister +Wilmot were nephews, on their mother's side, of old Gilbert Thorneley, +and, as every one supposed, his nearest relatives. They were both +orphans; both brought up and educated by their uncle, and both were +given to understand that they would equally inherit his immense +fortune at his death. But Thorneley had made his money by the sweat of +his brow,--beginning by sweeping his master's office, and ending by +being the possessor of some million of money,--and he did not choose, +as he said, to leave it to two idle dogs. He had worked, and so should +they: they might choose their own profession or business, and he would +do all that was requisite to forward them in life; but work in one way +or another they should. Hugh, guided very much by my advice, went to +college, and then read for the bar. His career at Oxford had not been +a brilliant one, but he had passed his "great go" very creditably, and +taken his bachelor's degree with fair honor to himself. Then he came +to London, took chambers in the Temple, and set himself down to read +with steady earnestness of purpose; after a while he was called to the +bar and his first brief was held for a client of mine. It was a +righteous cause, and he gained it by his straightforward grappling +with the evidence, his simple yet manly eloquence. At the time when +the events happened which are now recorded, and cast one great lasting +shadow over his life and mine, he was in very fair practice. But one +thing I ever noticed about him, and it was that he was almost +invariably retained for the defense. I don't think he could have +conducted a case for prosecution; I don't think he could have stood up +and pleaded for the conviction of any poor wretched miserable criminal +shivering at the bar, brought thither by what crushing amount of +degradation, want, or luring temptation to sin God only knew,--God +only, in His infinite mercy, would remember. Do you recollect that +portrait in one of Mr. Dickens's works of the barrister, who was +always retained at the Old Bailey by great criminals, and who never +refused to defend them, guilty or not guilty--that man, with the +unpoetical name of Jaggers, who used to wash his hands after coming +from the court or dismissing a client? Well, that man always reminded +me of Hugh Atherton; and when I read the book, I did homage to my +friend in his person. You don't see at first what Mr. Dickens is +driving at, nor the whole of his conception in the character of +Jaggers; but after a while it bursts upon you what a raft he must have +been for the poor drowning wretches going to their trial to catch at. + +With a fund of good common-sense, a dear head, and sound judgment, +Atherton possessed what gave such a charm to him and won so many +hearts,--the boyish lightheartedness which clung to him; with his +genial manner, his kindly words and deeds. He had his faults--he was +passionate and hot-headed, obstinate in his likes and dislikes; but he +{444} had what few young men of his age could boast, a freedom from +vice, a guilelessness of soul, which in the midst of all the +corruption, the temptations, and snares of London life, carried him +through unscathed. I never knew but one other who was like him in that +respect,--though indeed I have heard that such have been, but are now +gone to their grave,--who, with the brave undaunted heart of a +thoroughly English youth, carried within him the mark of innocence, +and wore it stamped upon his open brow. He is thousands of miles away +now, and these lines may never reach him; but those who love him and +long for his return will recognize the son and brother whose worth, +perchance, we never fully knew until the parting came. + +Of Lister Wilmot I had seen comparatively but very little. He was a +weak puny lad, unfit for roughing it in a public school, and had +therefore received his education from private tutors and governors. +Through his uncle's interest he obtained a civil appointment in one of +the government-offices, and though fond of dress and amusements, I +never heard much harm of him, beyond an inclination to extravagance, +which I imagined old Thorneley knew well how to keep in check. Yet, I +don't know how it was, I never liked Wilmot. Hugh was fond of him, and +very anxious that he and I should be friends; certainly it was not +Wilmot's fault that a greater amount of cordiality did not exist +between us. He was very agreeable, very civil, very amiable, very +attentive to me; but I could not bear him. I often took myself +severely to task for this unreasonable antipathy; and I decided it +could only be because he was such a contrast to Hugh in everything +that I did not take to him. Not that I pitched their relative +goodness, and drew conclusions against him; as I said before, I knew +no harm of him, but simply I did not like him. A story went about that +his mother (Thorneley's sister) had made a very unhappy marriage, and +died soon after her son's birth. What had become of his father no one +ever seemed to know; and if Wilmot did, he never named him. + +About a year before the story opens Hugh Atherton was engaged to be +married. Let me relate all this very clearly, very calmly; it is +needful I should; and while I write, let me think only, as before +heaven I have ever tried to think, of the interests of two beings who +always were and always will be dearest to me on earth. + +A client of mine left me at his death the joint guardianship with his +wife of an only daughter. She was heiress to a considerable fortune; +blest with a mother who was none of the wisest of guides for a young +girl who was beautiful, high-spirited, and gifted with no ordinary +intellect. I fulfilled my dead friend's trust with all the care, +vigilance, and tenderness in my power. I watched Ada Leslie grow up +into girlhood, and from girlhood into womanhood,--for I was a young +man in years when that charge was committed to me, though old in +character, and old and grim in looks,--I saw her beauty of face and +form unfold, her winning gracefulness become more graceful and more +winsome; I marked the powers of her mind and intellect develop, and +all the noble qualities of her heart reveal themselves in a thousand +ways. I watched her with the solicitude of a father, with the +affection of a brother; I never thought of myself in any other light +with regard to her; but her confidence in me became very precious, her +companionship very sweet. + +One day I took Hugh Atherton with me to Mrs. Leslie's, and in that +first visit I foresaw how all would end; it was but the precursor of +many more visits, and after a while they both told me how things stood +between them. There was no difficulty. Money, in the mother's eye, was +all that was needed to make a good match, and Hugh was well enough off +now, and likely to be a rich man in the future; money was all that +Gilbert Thorneley required for his nephew's future bride, and Ada +Leslie's fortune was ample, even to his sordid mind. I knew _she_ +could have {445} no worthier man for husband than Hugh Atherton. I +knew--ah, who should know better?--that _he_ could find no woman +worthier of his tenderest love and honor than my ward; and so I bade +God to bless them and sanctify their union. If for a while my life was +somewhat more lonely than it had seemed before; if a few years were +added to thought and feeling, and I began then more solemnly to +realize what a gray old bachelor I should appear to Hugh's little +children when they climbed about my knee,--well, it was but a +foolishness that was quickly buried down deep in my heart and would +never more rise to the surface. And Hugh's full tide of happiness and +_her_ deep but tender joy soon kindled bright again in the chambers of +my soul a light that for a time had been very dim; and I learnt the +best lesson life can teach us, and which in more ways than one is +intimated to us by the words, "It is more blessed to give than to +receive." They would have been married before this, but Ada's father +bad specified his wish that she should not marry until she was +twenty-one, unless her guardians judged it otherwise expedient, and +she was desirous of abiding by that decision. She would be of age the +third of this coming December, and after Christmas the wedding was to +take place. + +I noticed there was something peculiar in their manner of mentioning +to me the day they had fixed on for their marriage. It was the day +before I started on this last trip to my favorite Swiss mountains; we +had all gone down to Kew by water, and we were strolling about the +gardens enjoying the cool of the evening air after a day of unusual +sultriness. Mrs. Leslie, Wilmot, and I, were walking together, whilst +the other two went away by themselves. We had not spoken very much--at +least I had not, for many thoughts were busy within me. Presently Ada +came back alone, and putting her arm in mine she drew me aside into a +little shady walk where the trees met overhead and the air was laden +with the perfume of the lime-blossom. In the last summer of my life, +at eventide I shall see that narrow pathway with its leafy covering, +and smell those fragrant trees; I shall hear the nightingale's note as +it sang to me (so I thought) the refrain of a simple ballad I had +often heard my mother sing in early childhood. + + "Loyal je serai durant la vie." + +"Dear friend," said Ada, looking up into my face with her soft, kind, +brown eyes, so truthful and sincere, "Hugh and I have been speaking of +the future;" and the bright warm color came into her cheek, and the +long golden lashes fell as she spoke. + +"Yes, Ada, that is right. What says Hugh?" + +"He says we had better settle when it is to be. You know I am of age +in December, and he thinks of after Christmas; and do you know he +wants it to be on the day but one after the Epiphany? because he +says--that funny old Hugh!--that it is _your_ birthday; or if it +isn't, that it ought to be; and insists on it. However, he has set his +mind on it. He wanted to come and ask you, for I said I would not have +it fixed until you had been asked. And then I thought I would rather +come myself." + +The kind eyes were looking at me again, just a little anxiously, I +thought. For a moment there seemed to be a choking sensation in my +throat. I turned my head away, and the evening bird sang out once +more, clear and silvery in the calm still air, + + "Loyal je serai durant la vie." + +"Listen, Ada; do you hear what the nightingale is singing? She is +bidding me say 'God bless you both!' Let it be when Hugh thinks best. +Go and tell him so." + +She took my hand and pressed it to her lips; there was a warm tear on +it when she let it go. I turned aside and walked away for a little +while by myself. Then I went back to them, and we left the gardens. + +{446} + +Hugh and I walked home together that night; and as we parted at his +door he told me all was settled between him and Ada, very gently, very +softly, as if he were breaking some news to me. There was no need. I +bade him God speed with my cheeriest voice, and told him the heartfelt +truth--that to no other man would I have trusted her with such +perfect trust. + +I had happy letters from them both whilst I was abroad. Hugh had taken +a very pretty house some ten miles from town; workmen were busily +engaged in alterations, fittings-up, and decorations, whilst he and +Ada were full of the furniture and all those numerous etceteras which +help to make the home such a one as should be prepared to receive a +fair young bride. Mr. Thorneley had behaved very liberally to his +nephew, and given him _carte blanche_ in the matter of the +expenditure; if his nature were capable of loving any human being, I +think he was fond of Hugh Atherton, and I am quite sure that Hugh, in +his generous oversight of all that must have jarred upon and shocked +his mind, was sincerely and gratefully attached to his uncle, who, he +often said to me, had acted a father's part by him. Thus, amidst much +sunshine and little shade, all was hastening on toward the +consummation of their union, and as the new year tided round it was to +find them man and wife. + +And now I must relate a circumstance which happened about a fortnight +before I started for the Continent. I had been dining at the house of +my married sister, who lived at Highgate. She was one of those ladies +who are very fond of collecting about them the heterogeneous society +of all the nondescripts, hangers-on, and adventurers who are only too +willing to frequent the houses of those gifted with a taste for such +companionship. With good-nature verging, I often told her, on absolute +idiotcy, she could not be made to see how eccentricity of manner, +person, or conversation was often but the veil thrown over a character +too stained or doubtful to be revealed in its proper light. It is true +that in many cases her hospitality was rewarded; equally true that in +the majority it was abused; and my brother-in-law, good man, suffered +severely for it in the matter of his pocket. + +To return: amongst the various guests I met at dinner that evening was +one man who strangely riveted my attention, aided by the feeling so +well known to most people, that I had somewhere or other seen him +before, but in other guise, and when a much younger man. His manner +was quiet and reserved, but scarcely gentlemanlike; and I noticed that +in many of the little _convenances_ of society he was quite at a loss. +I judged him to be about fifty or fifty-five years of age, his hair +was grey, and he wore a thick beard and moustache; at first I took him +for a foreigner until I heard him speak, and then I perceived the +broad Irish accent betraying his nationality in a most unmistakable +manner. + +"Who's your Irish friend, Elinor?" I asked of my sister when I got her +quietly in the drawing-room after dinner. + +"Which one do you mean, John? There's the O'Callaghan of Callaghan, +who sat by me at dinner; and there's Mr. Burke, who writes those +spirited patriotic articles in the _Emerald-Green Gazette;_ and +there's Phelim O'Mara, the author of _Gems_---" + +"I know them all, my dear." + +"Then who can you mean, for there isn't another Irishman here? These +three wouldn't have been asked together--for they are all of different +politics, and I have been on thorns all the evening lest they should +get into a discussion--but I couldn't well avoid it; for you know--" + +Again I was obliged to use a brother's delightful privilege and be +rude, for Elinor, though an excellent woman and a pattern wife, was +discursive in conversation, and I saw her husband trying to catch her +eye for some purpose; so I said: + +{447} + +"Yes, I know all about it--there's Henry looking for you. The man I +mean sat opposite to me; grey beard--there he is, standing by +Montague." + +"Oh! _he?_ he is my last treasure-trove: he's not Irish, my dear; he's +half French and half English. An author, but very rich; has travelled +all over the world. Here," beckoning to him, "Mr. de Vos, allow me to +introduce you to my brother, Mr. Kavanagh." + +O Elinor, you good blind soul, your Frenchman was no more French and +no more English than the man in the moon, though certainly I am not +acquainted with the nationality of that gentleman. I saw it in two +minutes. We talked commonplaces for a little, till some one came up +and asked me if it were true that Atherton was engaged to my ward, +Miss Leslie. I answered in the affirmative. + +"You know Mr. Atherton very well then, I conclude," said De Vos. + +"I have known him from a boy; no one knows him better than I." + +"How very interesting!" he said; and I could not make out whether his +tone was earnest or satirical, for his face betrayed nothing. "I have +heard of Mr. Atherton from a friend of mine in Paris." + +"Ah! that little enthusiastic Gireaud, I dare say," replied I; for I +knew all Hugh's friends, and he was the only one I could think of as +being in Paris. + +"Yes, from Gireaud;" and he was turning away. + +"How is he?" I asked, meaning Gireaud; "have you seen him lately?" + +"No, not lately--that is, three or four months back." + +This was strange; it was only a month since the Frenchman had left +England, only three months since we had first made his acquaintance, +and he had been in England all the time. I felt suspicious; I often +did towards my sister's friends, by reason of divers small sums +borrowed in past times by them from me, and kept _in memoriam_ I +suppose. I thought I would pursue the inquiry. + +"Did you know M. Gireaud when he was in England?" + +"No abroad--in Paris;" and he changed color and shifted uneasily on +his feet. + +"Did he succeed in tracing out the evidence in that celebrated cause +he was conducting?" I continued pertinaciously. + +"I really don't know; excuse me--how very warm this room is! I will +go into the balcony and see if it is possible to get a little air;" +and he turned on his heel and left me. + +"So so," thought I, "you wanted to fasten yourself upon me with the +dodge of knowing my friends, did you? It won't do, my fine fellow;" +and I determined to give my brother-in-law a hint that his wife's +"last treasure-trove" would need watching. But I found no opportunity; +and when I inquired for Mr. de Vos later in the evening, I heard he +had gone away, feeling very unwell. Said I to myself, "He'll be worse +when he meets me again." I little recked the words then, or what they +might import. + +It was a beautiful August night when our party broke up; and resisting +my sister's wish that I should sleep there, I determined to enjoy a +moonlight walk home, smoke a cigar, and think over a difficult case I +had just then in hand. My nearest way into town from Elinor's house +was down Swain's Lane and round by the cemetery; it was a lonely, +ghostly kind of walk, not tempting on a dark winter's night; but with +a brilliant harvest-moon overhead, a stout stick, and myself standing +six feet without shoes, I feared neither man nor ghost. The tombstones +looked white and ghastly enough in the bright moonlight, and the trees +cast their heavy shadows across my path, whilst their tops were +stirred by a gentle soughing breeze. I had passed the cemetery, and +was rapidly nearing the end of the lane, which turns into the +high-road by the Duke of St. Alban's public-house, of omnibus +notoriety, when I fancied I heard the sound of voices pitched high, as +if {448} in some angry dispute. I took out my watch; it was just upon +twelve o'clock. Drunken revellers, I thought, turned out of the inn. +Swain's Lane winds about until you are close upon the road, and then +there is a straight piece with fields upon either side. I looked ahead +as I came to this latter bit, but there was no one to be seen, +although the voices sounded closer and closer. I was walking on the +turf beside the road, so that my footsteps falling upon the soft grass +were inaudible. I passed a gate leading into a field, and then I +became aware that the voices were close to me on the other side of the +hedge. Not caring to be seen lest I should get drawn into some drunken +row, I stooped my head and shoulders, inconveniently high just then, +and was in the act of passing swiftly on when a name arrested me. "I +tell you Hugh Atherton never _shall_ marry that girl!" + +"And I tell you he _will_! You let every chance slip by you, you poor +spiritless fool. He'll marry her, and come in for the best share, if +not the whole of Gil Thorneley's money." + +There was no mistaking the brogue of my Irish Anglo-French +acquaintance of this evening--my sister's "last treasure-trove, the +talented author, the rich man." But the other voice, whose was it? It +sounded strange at first; then light began to dawn upon me. I knew +it--yes, surely I knew it. Ha, by Jove! Lister Wilmot!--it must be +Lister Wilmot's. + +They were speaking again, quite unconscious of their auditor on the +other side of the hedge. + +"You are the biggest fool, and a scoundrel too, coming here, dogging +my footsteps, and following me about just to bring ruin upon me with +your confounded interference; going _there_ too, and meeting the very +man you ought to avoid, that lawyer fellow, Kavanagh; why, he'll scent +you out in less than no time." (Much obliged to you, Mr. Wilmot, +thought I, for your involuntary tribute to my shrewdness: it has been +deserved this time at any rate.) "You must leave London at +once--to-morrow, do you hear?--or I'll whisper a certain affair +about, which may make this quarter of the world unpleasant to you." + +"I'll not stir without that fifty pounds. You blow upon me, and I'll +blow upon you in a quarter you wouldn't care to have those small bits +of paper shown that I've got in my pocket-book here." + +The remark seemed to have been untimely. + +"Scoundrel!" shouted the other voice I believed to be Wilmot's, and I +heard them close together and struggle. + +At the same moment I leaped the gate, determined to make sure of their +identity; but with singular ill-luck I caught my foot against the +topmost bar, and fell with no small force my whole length on the other +side. The noise and sight of me disturbed the combatants, and before I +could rise or recover myself, they had separated, and fled in opposite +directions across the field. Pursuit was a vain thought. I had twisted +my ankle in the fall, and for a few moments the pain was unbearable; +when I could put my foot to the ground both fugitives were out of +sight. There was nothing left for me but to hobble back, gain the +road, and seize upon the first empty cab returning to London to convey +me to my chambers. + +I mentioned the adventure to Atherton on the following morning, and my +conviction that Lister Wilmot was one of the two men. + +"It is impossible," replied Hugh; "Lister was with me last evening +till eleven o'clock, and then he went home to bed." + +"Did you see him home?" I asked. + +"Yes, and went in with him; saw him undressed, and ready to get into +bed. He was not well, poor fellow. One of his bad colds seemed to be +threatening him, and he was very out of spirits. I am afraid he's +exceeding his allowance, and getting into debt. He asked me to lend, +him twenty pounds for a month." + +{449} + +"Which of course you didn't do?" + +"Which of course I did, and told him he was heartily welcome to it; +but I wished he'd draw in his expenses, for I was certain if Uncle +Gilbert heard of his being in difficulty, there would be no end to +pay. I'll get him to make a clean breast of it some day soon to me, +and see what I can do to help him and set him right." + +So like Hugh, with his generous impulses ever ready to do a kindness. + +"Well, but it is very odd. I could have sworn it was Lister in the +field; as for the other fellow, why there is not the smallest shadow +of a doubt about him. If I hadn't recognized his brogue, why, the +words of his companion pointed him out as the De Vos of the +dinner-party. Do you know such a man, Hugh?" and I gave a graphic +description of him. + +Hugh shook his head. + +"Don't know such a bird as that, Jack. Can't think who it can be, nor +what they both meant. The 'girl,' indeed! Did they mean Ada, forsooth? +I'd like to punch their skulls for daring to name her. I say, let's go +to Lister's at once and ask him if he knows a man answering to the +name De Vos." + +We drove to Wilmot's lodgings in the Albany--he affected +aristocratic-bachelor neighborhoods--and found him over a late +breakfast, looking very pale and haggard. Hugh attacked him in his +straightforward blunt manner. + +"What did you go up to Highgate for, last night. Lister, when I +thought you were going to bed?" + +Wilmot's fork fell on the floor and he stooped to pick it up before +answering. Then he looked up with an air of the greatest astonishment. + +"Go up to Highgate last night! I! Are you mad, Hugh?" + +"I heard your voice last night in a field close by the Highgate Road, +or I never was more mistaken in my life," I said. + +He turned his face to me: there was the most unaffected surprise and +bewilderment written on it as he stared at me. + +"Are you out of your senses too?" he asked at last with a loud laugh. +"Why, Hugh saw me into bed almost. You must have been wandering, or +Mr. Craven's" (my brother-in-law) "wines were too potent for your +sober brain." + +I was completely at a nonplus. "Do you know that Mr. de Vos is in +England?" I said, resolved to try another "dodge." + +"Who is Mr. de Vos?" was the answer, given in the most unconcerned +tone. + +Hugh broke in: "Tell him all about it, John." + +I did so, relating word for word what I had heard, with my eye fixed +upon his face. He never flinched once, and there was not the smallest +embarrassment in his look or manner. + +"You were of course entirely mistaken," he said; "I never left my room +last night after Hugh went away. Of this Mr. de Vos I know +nothing--not even by name." + +There was nothing for it but to be satisfied, and yet somehow I was +not. I suppose my old dislike of Wilmot got the better of me and made +me distrustful. Then such dear--such precious interests had been +called in question--were perhaps in danger; and I could not rid myself +of the great anxiety which oppressed me. + +The next move was after De Vos. He had utterly and totally disappeared +by the time I had obtained his address from my sister and hunted out +the wretched doubtful sort of lodgings he had inhabited near Leicester +Square. So the affair died a natural death, and I left England for the +Continent. Could I but have foreseen what my return would bring forth! + + +{450} + +CHAPTER III. + +THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING. + +It was all true--dreadfully, awfully true--and no hideous dream. +Gilbert Thorneley was dead--poisoned, murdered; and Hugh Atherton was +in the hands of justice, suspected, if not actually accused, of the +murder. When I came back, sick and giddy, to consciousness, there was +old Hardy bending over me with a face blanched almost as white as my +own must have been, and Jones the detective standing by, the deepest +concern written on his countenance. Do you know what it is, that +"coming to," as women express it, after a sudden mental blow has +prostrated you and hurled you into the dark oblivion of insensibility? +I daresay you do. You know what the return to life is; what the +realization of the stunning evil which has befallen you. But God help +you if you remember that your last words when conscious criminated the +friend you would willingly die to save. God help you if you know you +must be forced into admitting what you had rather cut out your tongue +than utter, and which in your inadvertence or brainless stupidity you +let pass your lips. I say again, heaven help you, for it is one of the +bitterest moments of your life. + +As the physical indisposition wore off, and the whole situation of +affairs became clearer to my scattered senses, the remembrance of what +I had done was maddening. + +"Oh, blind fool," I cried, "not to see, not to know what I was doing! +Jones and Hardy, I call you both to witness most solemnly that I +believe as firmly, as entirely in Mr. Atherton's innocence as I do in +an eternal life to come. I charge you both, that, whatever testimony +you may be forced to give, whatever miserable words have been wrung +from me--I charge you both, by all you hold most sacred, to give +evidence likewise that I believe him innocent." + +"We will, sir," said the two men gravely. + +Then a desperate idea seized me, and I motioned Hardy to leave the +room. + +"Jones," I said, when the clerk was gone, "you are a poor man, I know, +and have many children to provide for. Get me off attending the +inquest, and I will write you a cheque on the spot for any sum in +reason you like to name." + +"Bless your heart, sir, it an't in my power. Inspector Jackson has +been in Wimpole street investigating it all; and I know your name's +booked as one of the principal witnesses. You'll have your summons +this evening for to-morrow, as safe as I'm here." + +"Where is Mr. Atherton?" I asked. + +"Inspector Jackson took him to Marylebone street, sir. He'll go before +the magistrate at two o'clock. They won't get his committal, though, I +expect until after the inquest; there is not sufficient evidence; but +we're getting it as fast as we can." + +"Yes," I said in the bitterness of my heart; "and if I had known your +errand _here_, I'd have flung you down the stairs before you should +have had access to my rooms." + +"You can't be sorrier than I am, Mr. Kavanagh. I believe, like you, +that he's an innocent man: but everything looks against him at +present. The housekeeper's evidence is enough to hang him." + +"The housekeeper! What, Mrs. Haag?" + +"Yes, sir, that's her name, I believe. She's only half English, or +married a foreigner, or something of the sort. But I think she must be +foreign, for she has a mighty broad accent. Yes, indeed, sir; and if I +may make bold to say it,--I don't know what your friendship for Mr. +Atherton may lead you to do,--but it's of no use your not saying where +you saw him last night, for _she_ saw him go in and come out of _that +shop_, and she heard him address you, sir, by name." + +A light flashed across me. That was _the woman_ I had met in Vere +Street. I didn't know the housekeeper by sight, but I had often heard +both Atherton and Wilmot speak of her. Wilmot!--another light. + +{451} + +"Did you know that Mr. Thorneley's other nephew was with him last +night? He met Mr. Atherton in Wimpole Street." + +"Yes, sir, and left nearly an hour before Mr. Atherton went away." + +"Still, why is he not suspected as much as the other?" + +"_He_ had not been traced in and out of a chemist's shop; _he_ had no +dispute with his uncle; _he_ was not heard to make use of _threatening +words_. I can't tell you more, sir; and I must be going. I have done +what need be done here. Mr. Kavanagh, believe me I am acting only in +my official capacity; and I'd rather, sir, have been at the bottom of +the sea than engaged in this affair. But I mustn't forget the message, +sir." + +"What message?" + +"From Mr. Atherton. He wanted to write or to send for you to come; but +they wouldn't let him. You see, sir, we know you are an important +witness against him, and Jackson--he's a sharp one--wouldn't have him +communicating with you. Poor gentleman! he was stunned-like at first +when he was told. Then when he saw me, 'Jones,' said he, 'you go to +Mr. Kavanagh; tell him what has happened. Tell him I'm an innocent +man, so help me God! I wouldn't have hurt a gray hair of the old man's +head. But I was angry with him, I confess.' Then we warned him not to +say anything which might criminate himself, so he only bent his head +reverently, and said again, 'My God, Thou knowest I am innocent.' Then +he turned to me suddenly and caught my arm. 'Tell Mr. Kavanagh to go +at once to Mrs. Leslie's, and see that the news doesn't come upon them +too suddenly. Tell him I _trust to him_.' Those were his words, sir, +two or three times,--'Tell him I trust to him.'" + +O Hugh! my poor Hugh; you might trust me then; you might have trusted +me always. But you didn't. A world of damning doubt and evidence rose +up between us, and it seemed to point at me as your worst enemy, and +never more again would you place confidence in me; never more would +the perfect trust of friendship draw us together, and make our +interests one. + +Ay, and that too had been one of the despairing thoughts which rushed +across my mind as the truth of what had happened forced itself upon +me. Ada! What if such news were carried suddenly, inconsiderately to +her ears? What if such an awful, unlooked-for blow fell, crushing the +bright hopes and darkening the radiant happiness of her young life? I +tell all this in a bewildered way now; I was far more bewildered then. +I was mad. There was the remembrance of the last evening,--my +interview with Thorneley, the strange secret still ringing in my ears, +the chance meeting with Hugh, and what was to come of it; and the +present tidings,--the old man dead, Hugh arrested and accused of +murdering him; and I in my blindness had helped to corroborate the +worst testimony against him. All this was rushing through my brain; +and then, above all, the thought of Ada Leslie--and the last thought +roused me to action. + +"Go back, Jones, to Mr. Atherton; tell him I am going off immediately +to Mrs. Leslie's, and that he may trust to me in _that_. And stay, has +he got legal assistance?" + +"No, sir; I fancy he thought you'd see to all that. He didn't seem to +think how it might be with your having to give evidence." + +"You'd better go to Smith and Walker's, and see one of the partners. +They must watch proceedings for him to-day." + +"They can't, sir; they are to watch on the part of the Crown." + +"On the part of the Crown!--whose management is that?" + +"I believe they offered and wished it. They feel bound to discover the +murderer of their late client; they couldn't act _for_ the man accused +of murdering him." + +"True--too true. I'll send Hardy to Mr. Merrivale; he is a great +friend {452} of his--I can trust him. Tell Mr. Atherton what I say, +and what has been done." + +"Very good, sir;" and Jones withdrew. + +It took me less than an hour to reach Hyde-Park Gardens, where Mrs. +Leslie and my ward dwelt; and on the road I resolved as well as I +could how to break the news. Pray Heaven only to give her strength to +bear it! I was shown into the dining-room, for I had asked to see Miss +Leslie alone. There were the sounds of music up-stairs, and I heard +Ada's clear thrilling voice singing one of the beautiful German songs +I knew, and that _he_ loved so well. Presently her light step was on +the threshold, and she burst gaily into the room. + +"Oh, Hugh, how late you are!" and then she stopped suddenly, seeing it +was I--only I. But she came forward in a moment with a kind eager +welcome, a welcome back to England, laughing and blushing at her +mistake. "I heard the street-door open, and ran down at once; for Hugh +said he would come early to take me out this morning, and I thought it +was he. Oh, but I am so glad to see you, dear Mr. Kavanagh. But how +dreadfully ill you are looking--what is the matter?" + +Perhaps she saw my own misery, and the unutterable pity and tenderness +for her which filled my heart, written in my face; but a change passed +over her countenance. + +"What is the matter?" she repeated in a breathless sort of manner. + +"Hugh sends his love," I said; hardly knowing, indeed, what words were +passing my lips, or that I was really "breaking it" to her;--"his dear +love; he is quite well, but something prevents him from coming to you +to-day." + +"To-day!" She repeated the same word after me, still in a breathless +way; and her large eyes were fixed on me as in mute agonized appeal +against what was coming. + +"Something very important--very painful--has happened to detain him. +Mr. Thorneley died very suddenly last night." + +I stopped, and turned away. Heaven help me! I could not go on, with +those eyes upon me. There was one deep-drawn sigh of relief. + +"Is that _all!_" + +Was it not better to tell the truth to her at once? After all, he was +innocent. I acknowledged that with all the loyalty of my soul--so +would she; and that thought would bear her up. Yes, it would be best +to tell her. I took her hand, and led her to a chair. + +"Ada, it is not all; can you bear the rest?" Her white trembling lips +moved as if assenting, but I could not hear the words. "Thorneley died +very suddenly--was found dead. It is thought he has been poisoned. I +don't know the particulars--I have only just heard of it. Hugh was +with him late last night; it is necessary he should be examined to-day +by a magistrate." + +Again I paused, praying that the truth might dawn upon her--that I +might not have to stab her with the terrible revelation. +But--dreading, fearing, as I could see she was--no shadow of the +reality seemed to cross her mind. + +"Where is Hugh now?" at last she asked with startling suddenness. + +"O Ada, my poor child! try to bear it. Hugh is as innocent as you are +of this fearful crime; but he has been arrested." + +The words were said--she knew all now. To my dying day I shall never +forget the awful change which passed over her face. She did not faint +or scream, but she sat there motionless, rigid, white as a marble +statue. I took her hand; it was icy cold, and lay passive in mine. + +"Ada, for God's sake speak to me! Shall I call your mother to you?" + +Her stillness was frightful. There was some water on the sideboard, +and I poured out some and brought it to her, almost forcing the glass +between her set teeth. At last she swallowed {453} some, and then +heavy sighs seemed to relieve both heart and brain. + +"I must go to him," she said at last in a hoarse whisper. + +"You cannot, Ada,--at least not today; they would not suffer it. +Besides, my dearest child, he has need of all his firmness and +presence of mind, and the sight of you would only unnerve him. Let him +hear how bravely you are bearing it; let him think of you as believing +that our Father who is in heaven will defend the innocent." + +"I do, I do," she said, the hot tears slowly welling from her eyes, +and falling in burning drops upon my hand--and upon my heart. They +were blessed tears of relief. "But you too will do your utmost for +him. You are his dearest friend, and he would have full confidence in +whatever you did. Go to him at once!--why do you stay here?" she +continued more vehemently; "why are _you_ not with him, helping and +defending him?" + +Could I tell her the truth now? Could I undeceive her and say I have +done as much and perhaps more to condemn him than any one--that I +should have to bear witness against him? Could I tell her this, with +her eyes looking into mine in such unutterable anguish, with her +little hand placed in mine so confidingly, and with the thought of him +before me? I could not. I said all should be done for him that was in +the power of mortal man to do, and I promised to send messengers +constantly to keep her fully informed during the day of all that +passed; Before going I asked her if I should tell her mother; but she +refused--she would rather do it herself. + +"Tell him," were her last words, "that my heart is with him, and my +love--oh I my dearest love!" + +"Write it, Ada," I said, "it is better he should have that message +direct from you." + +So I left her, bearing her little note to him, poor fellow. How +precious it would be, that tiny missive, coming from her loving hand +and faithful heart. + +It was just upon one o'clock when I arrived at my chambers, and at two +Atherton was to be taken before the magistrate. There was no fresh +news; so I decided upon going at once to Merrivale's office, and +seeing him if possible before he went to the police-court. I met him +on the stairs returning to his office. + +"I have just been with poor Atherton," he said; and he looked very +grave. "Come in here; I was going to send for you. By the bye, have +you been to the Leslies? he is most anxious about that. I don't think +he'll be calm enough to think for himself until he knows all is right +in that quarter." + +"I have a note from Miss Leslie for him," + +"All right. Give it to me; I'll enclose it, and send it at once." + +Merrivale despatched the messenger, and then locked his room door. +"The case is dead against him," he said as he sat down, "and he knows +it now, poor fellow,--he knows it." + +"He is innocent," I said; "I could swear he is innocent!" + +"Yes, so I think, and so do others; but the evidence against him is +frightfully strong. That woman, Mrs. Haag, will make a most +criminating statement of what occurred last night." + +"I don't know the particulars,--tell me what they are?" + +"_You_ ought to be able to throw considerable light upon it," said +Merrivale, unheeding my question. "You were with poor old Thorneley +last night, it seems. Just tell me all that passed. In fact, I ought +to know _every thing_. I hear too that you are to be summoned as +witness against Atherton. How is that?" + +I then related to him how I had gone to Wimpole street at Mr. +Thorneley's request about a matter of business; the hour I had left +him; my meeting with Hugh; his wish to come home with me, and my +refusal; the meeting also with the woman, and the conclusions which I +had drawn from it. + +{454} + +"What was the nature of the business with Mr. Thorneley?" + +I replied that my word of honor was passed to keep it secret. + +"Had it any bearing upon the unhappy catastrophe, either directly or +indirectly?" + +"No; none that I could see." + +"Would it affect Atherton or his prospects?" + +I could not answer further, I replied; but in no way could it touch +him either for good or evil in the present unfortunate affair. +Merrivale was fairly at a nonplus. + +"Now," said Mr. Merrivale, "I will tell you what passed after you went +away, as I learnt it from Atherton; and whatever further light you can +throw upon the mystery, which is my business now to sift to the +bottom, well, I think, Kavanagh, you are bound, by all the ties of +your long friendship with that poor fellow now under arrest, to speak +out openly to me." + +I felt Merrivale's sharp searching eyes upon me; but the time to speak +had not come, and I could in no way serve Hugh by breaking silence--at +least I did not see that I could. After a short pause, Merrivale +continued: + +"Atherton tells me that when he reached his uncle's house, he found +his cousin, Lister Wilmot, had just arrived; and they both went to +Thorneley's room together, Wilmot said to him on the way, 'I must get +some money to-night out of the governor, if possible, for I'm +dreadfully hard-up. I've had to dodge three duns to-day; and there'll +be a writ out against me to-morrow as sure as I'm alive, if he doesn't +fork out handsomely.' Atherton asked him what he called handsomely, +with a view, I imagine, to helping him himself if he could; but Wilmot +mentioned a sum so large that there could be no further thought of his +doing so. They found the old man unusually preoccupied and taciturn. +Nevertheless, in spite of unfavorable circumstances, Wilmot broached +the subject of his difficulties to him, and abruptly asked for 500_l_. +Thorneley was furious; and it seems, curiously enough, that he turned +his fury upon Atherton; accused him of leading Wilmot astray, of +teaching him to be extravagant; of making a tool of him for purposes +of his own; in short, making the most unheard-of accusations against +poor Atherton, and throwing the entire blame on him. Atherton says he +felt convinced that some one must have been carrying false stories to +his uncle, or in some way poisoning his mind against himself; but +knowing how broken in health he was, he tried at first to soothe him, +and quietly contradict his assertions, and Wilmot _indorsed all he +said_, distinctly stating that his cousin was entirely free from all +blame in the matter, and that it was his own extravagance which had +brought him into difficulties; and much more to the same effect. And +now comes the terrible part. Thorneley only waxed wrother and more +wroth; swore at Atherton, and told him he might pay his cousin's debts +for him; and if he couldn't out of his own money, he might get his +future wife's guardian to advance him some of hers; and that if Wilmot +had looked half-sharp he might have married the girl himself. As it +was, he dared say she would marry Kavanagh in the end. You may suppose +this vexed Atherton not a little; his blood was up, and he spoke out +hot and angrily to his uncle, telling him amongst other things that he +would _bitterly repent on the morrow what he had said last night_. He +tells me he distinctly remembers the words he used. In the heat of the +dispute--he thinks it must have been just at the moment he said +this--the housekeeper came in with the tray. It seems that Thorneley +always took bitter-ale the last thing at night, with hard biscuits. +Almost directly after he had spoken Atherton repented having got angry +with the old man, remembering what his temperament was; and as a sort +of propitiatory action, went and fetched him his glass of ale from the +table. Gilbert Thorneley took it from Atherton's hand, and--drank it. +_There was poison in that glass of ale!_" + +{455} + +I sat confronting Merrivale, dazed, sickened, dumbfounded. _Now_ I +knew the full weight of the evidence I should be forced to give. Now I +knew, when everything was revealed, the cry that would go up from +Hugh's heart against me. But I never swerved from my allegiance to +him; I never thought him guilty--no, not for the brief shadow of an +instant. + +After a while Merrivale continued, "Whoever put in that fatal drug, +and whatever it was, the effects must have taken place subsequent to +Atherton's leaving Wimpole Street. He says that Wilmot went away very +shortly after his uncle drank the ale, receiving a very cold +good-night from the latter; and that after in vain trying to reason +with Mr. Thorneley, and bring him into good-humor again, he also left +him,--the old man utterly refusing to shake hands or to part friends. +The poor fellow seems to feel that bitterly; he is terribly cut up at +remembering that the last intercourse with his uncle should have been +unfriendly. No; I could venture my oath he is innocent; his sorrow at +Thorneley's death _cannot_ by put on. However, the end of it all is, +that Mr. Thorneley went to bed last night directly after Atherton went +away; and this morning when the servant went into his room as usual at +half-past six, to call him, and see whether he wanted anything before +getting up--he kept to his old early hours as much as possible, I +fancy--the man found him dead in his bed. The housekeeper was roused, +and they sent off directly for a doctor. When he came, he declared his +suspicion that he had died from the effects of poison, and demanded +what he had taken last. He had touched nothing since the bitter-ale; +the glass had not been washed, and traces of strychnine were found in +the few drops left in the tumbler. Smith and Walker have called in Dr. +Robinson since then; and he with this doctor who first saw the corpse +are making a _post-mortem_ examination now. The contents of the +stomach, to make sure of everything, are to be sent to Professor T---- +for analysis. When the inspectors arrived from Scotland Yard, the +housekeeper immediately volunteered her evidence of what I have +related to you. Putting all these facts together," continued +Merrivale, looking over his notes, "coupled with the evidence you will +be forced to give of where you met him, I apprehend the whole case to +be dead against poor Atherton. Yes, the entire thing will turn upon +that visit to the chemist in Vere street; if we can dispose of that +satisfactorily, I shan't despair. At present it is the most +criminating to my mind, and will just damn him with the jury at the +inquest." + +"What account does he give himself of going to the chemist's?" + +"Simple enough, to any one who knows him as you and I do, and who +would believe a man who never yet lied,--who is, I think, incapable of +a lie to save his own life. He says he went in to purchase some +camphor; he has been taking it lately for headaches; the bottle was +found in his coat-pocket; but there was also found a small empty paper +labelled 'Strychnine,' _with the Vere-street chemist's name upon it_. +Of that paper he most solemnly denies all knowledge, and I believe +him; but how will the jury dispose of such circumstantial evidence?" + +"No expense must be spared in defending him, Merrivale," I said; "draw +on me to the last farthing for whatever is wanted." + +"None shall be spared. I have written to Sir Richard Mayne, whom I +know very well, asking for a certain detective officer whoso +experience I can rely on from past dealings; and if the dastardly +wretch lives who has done this deed, and thrown the brunt of it on +Atherton, he or she shall be hunted down and brought to justice. I +must be off now. The proceedings to-day will be but nominal. I will +come round by your office on my way back. What we have to do at +present is to gain time. For this we must {456} prepare all the +contrary evidence in our power against to-morrow. By the way, see +Wilmot as soon as you can, and bring him back with you." + +I returned home; wrote a few words, as comforting and encouraging as I +could, to Ada, and despatched a messenger with the note; then I went +to the Albany and asked for Lister Wilmot. He was out; had been +summoned to the police-court to be present at the inquiry. I left my +card, with a pencilled injunction to come on to me the moment he +returned; and then, impelled by a horrible fascination, I took my way +toward Marylebone street, longing, yet dreading, to see and hear--my +heart aching for a sight of the manly form and noble face of him to +whom my soul had cleaved as to a brother. + +There was a dense crowd outside the gates of the courtyard and round +the private door through which the magistrates enter, when I arrived +there. With my hat slouched over my brows, I made my way through with +difficulty to the door of the court where the proceedings were going +on,--the noise and din of the crowd buzzing about me, and scraps of +talk which goes on in such places and among such people as collect +there, reaching me in broken snatches. + +"Who'd ha' thought he'd a done it? such a nice-looking chap as er is." + +"Yer see, it's the money as he wanted. The old man was mortal rich; +they say the Bank of England couldn't 'old 'is money. Yes, the gowld +did it." + +"Pisen! Ah, he'd be glad of pisen hisself now. What's that feller +sayin'? Oh, that's the lawyer wot's defending him. He'll have tough +work, he will." + +"Remanded!--that's the way; why can't they commit him at once? Givin' +folks all the trouble to come twice afore they knows what to do with +un." + +"'Ere he comes. Now, six-footer, who pisened the old man?" + +And then came groans and hisses as the mob were made to open and +divide themselves, whilst policemen cleared the way for the +prisoner--yes, it had come to that--the prisoner!--to pass to the van +waiting for him. I looked up as he advanced,--we were almost of the +same height, he and I; taller perhaps by some inches than the majority +around, who were mostly women,--and our eyes met. O God! shall I ever +forget the look he gave me? Pale and calm and firm, he passed on--his +noble brow erect, his clear eyes shining with the light of conscious +innocence; with the whole expression of his countenance +subdued--hallowed, I might say--with the sorrow and trouble which had +befallen him. On he came, heedless of the hisses and jeers of the +fallen degraded herd who pressed round; heedless of the jibes and +groans uttered by the companions of those for whom, more then likely, +his genial voice had been raised in defence, in pleading against the +justice they deserved, but which he had never merited. On he came, +unmindful of everything that was going on about him, as if his spirit +were faraway, communing with that unseen Presence that was never +absent from his mind. I lifted my hat and stood bareheaded as he +passed into that dark dismal van that was polluted with the breath, +contaminated by the touch, of men whose hands were dyed by the +blackest crimes. + +When it had driven off I turned away and hailed a passing cab. Just as +I was stepping into it I was arrested by the sound of a voice near me. + +"He's safe to be condemned, as shure as yer name's Mike." + +It was an Irish voice. I bounded back. Disappearing rapidly, threading +in and out of the now-dispersing crowd, were the high square +shoulders, the gray locks and beard, the swaggering air of Mr. de Vos, +the "treasure-trove," the hero of Swain's Lane. He was gone before I +was fully aware of his identity. + +{457} + +CHAPTER IV. + + +A GLIMMER OF LIGHT. + + +A popular writer of the day says there is this to be observed in the +physiology of every murder, "that before the coroner's inquest the +sole object of public curiosity is the murdered man; while immediately +after that judicial investigation the tide of feeling turns; the dead +man is hurried and forgotten, and the suspected murderer becomes the +hero of men's morbid imaginations." If this be true--as it is--in the +generality of cases, there are also exceptions in which just the +contrary takes place. So was it now. Amidst the hue and cry which +arose against Hugh Atherton, the suspected murderer of his uncle, +Gilbert Thorneley, the murdered man, was almost forgotten. The +announcement in the morning papers of the inquest to be held that same +day following the discovery of the murder was hailed but as an +acceleration of the justice which was to hunt him down to a felon's +death. Three executions had taken place during that summer in London, +and they had but whetted the public appetite. Like a wild beast that +had tasted blood, it ravened and hungered for more; it _could not_ +sicken at the sight of a human creature, a fellow-man, strung up like +a dog, strangled like an animal; it _could not_ shudder to behold the +quivering limbs, the covered face, the convulsed form, as it swung +from the gibbet. They had become used to the sight, familiar with the +whole scene in its awful solemnity; but they were far from satiated; +and eagerly did the public voice clamor for another victim on whom to +gloat their inhuman eyes. Ah! that is a fearful responsibility which +England has taken upon herself in these public executions--in baring +to such a gaze as that which is fastened upon the small black-draped +platform outside the walls of Newgate the solemn, awful spectacle of a +creature going to meet his Creator, of an immortal soul passing into +the dread presence of its God! Much has been said for, much against, +those exhibitions of public justice; I doubt if a true view will ever +be arrived at until the question has been considered as one vitally +affecting England as a _Christian_ nation. + +Hugh Atherton was a suspected man, and the press did its work well +that morning in trying to criminate him. Already in those brief +four-and-twenty hours his name--the name of one incapable of hurting +the tiniest insect that lay across his path--had become a byword and a +reproach in the mouths, not of many, but of multitudes, throughout the +length and breadth of the land. + +Gilbert Thorneley had been a rich man--a notedly rich man--a +millionaire; and we may not touch the rich with impunity. He had not +been a good man nor a useful man, nor philanthropic; none had loved +him, not a few had hated him, many had disliked and dreaded him; but +he was rich--he had wealth untold, and it did wonders for him in the +eyes of the world after his death. Yet withal he was forgotten, +comparatively speaking, whilst the interest of the public was riveted +upon his supposed-to-be-criminal nephew. The scanty evidence elicited +at the police-court was twisted and turned against him by ingenious +compilers of leading-articles, and only one journal ventured to raise +a dissenting voice in his favor. It was a paper that had vindicated +many a man before; that had done for accused persons what perhaps +their poverty would not permit them to do for themselves,--in +ventilating facts and clearing up evidence with the care and eloquence +of a paid counsel. It was a paper hated by many in authority, by big +wigs and potentates, and was to many country magistrates a perfect +nightmare; nevertheless its influence told largely upon the public +mind and led to the rooting out of many an evil. + +{458} + +The inquest on Gilbert Thorneley was appointed for two o'clock, and I +was cited to appear as one of the witnesses. I had gone late the +evening before to Hyde-Park Gardens with all the tidings that could be +gathered, and left poor Ada more calm and composed than could almost +have been hoped for. Still, what her fearful grief and anxiety was, +heaven only knew; for her only thought seemed to be that Hugh should +hear she was keeping up bravely for his sake. After the inquest, I +promised to try and obtain that she should see him: But I went away, +haunted by her poor pale face, her heavy sleepless eyes, her look of +suppressed anguish; haunted by an overwhelming dread of the morrow; +haunted by the vision of a future laden with sorrow and suffering for +us all. And at last the morning dawned of the day which would bring +forth such important results, and affect the fate of Hugh Atherton so +very gravely. I went early to Merrivale's office, and found him full +of business and very anxious. Lister Wilmot had never appeared; and +repeated messengers sent to the Albany only brought back word that he +had not been home since he went to the police-court the preceding day. +He had neither dined nor slept at home. + +Smith and Walker were savage and taciturn, refusing all information, +although their clerk let out that Wilmot had been there several times; +and Merrivale's hopes were all centred in the detective he was +employing, but who had not been seen since he had received his +instructions. + +The hours wore round, and at twelve o'clock I was to be at the +Leslies'. As I left Mr. Merrivale's office in Lincoln's-Inn Square, a +man bowed to me in passing. It was Jones the detective. A sudden +thought struck me, and I turned back after him. + +"Jones," I said, "do you happen to know a Mr. de Vos, who lodged some +two months ago at No. 13 Charles street, Leicester Square?" + +"No, sir; not by that name. What is he like?" + +I described him; but he shook his head. + +"I don't recognize him, sir; but, if you'll allow me, I'll make a note +of it. Have you any particular reason for wishing to hear about him?" + +"Yes; and I should be glad to know _anything_ you can gather +concerning the man." + +"I'll be on the look-out, sir." And Jones touched his hat and went +off. + +The old butler came to the door in Hyde-Park Gardens, and in answer to +my inquiries informed me that Miss Leslie was "very middling indeed, +and that Mr. Wilmot had just been there." + +"Mr. Wilmot!" + +"Yes, sir; he wished partiklar to see Miss Ada--which he did, sir, and +her ma too: very nice gentleman he seems, and terrible cut up about +his poor uncle and his cousin. A shocking thing, sir, for you to have +to witness _against_ Mr. Atherton." + +Against Mr. Atherton! Then it had reached here--this news, these +tidings--that I was to help to condemn the man I loved best on earth! +What was known in the servants'-hall had no doubt been discussed in +the drawing-room, and Ada must now fully be aware of what I had found +no courage to tell her yesterday. How had she received the +intelligence? what was she thinking of it--of me? Reflecting thus, I +followed Kings into the library, and found Mrs. Leslie alone. Now that +lady and I never got on as amicably as we might have done; joint +guardians seldom do, especially when they are of opposite genders; and +this I say with no sort of reflection upon the fairer sex, simply +mentioning it as a fact which, during a long legal course of +experience, has come before me. _I_ considered Mrs. Leslie frivolous, +weak, and extravagant, very unlike her child, very far from fit to be +instrusted with the sole guidance of a mind such as Ada's. But I kept +my own counsel {459} on the subject, and tried by action rather than +words to counteract and shield Ada from evils arising from her +mother's foolish conduct. She thought _me_ very uncompromising, very +particular and rigid in my notions, often perhaps very crusty and +disagreeable, nor spared she any pains to conceal her thought. That I +did not mind; for Ada trusted me implicitly in all things, and it was +all I cared for. This morning there was a stiffness and less of +cordiality than ever in Mrs. Leslie's manner of receiving me. + +"How is Ada?" I asked. + +"She passed a very restless night, poor dear, very restless; and is +fit for nothing this morning. Indeed, I am almost in the same state +myself, I have been so terribly upset by this affair, and my nerves +are very delicate. Most trying too! I have had to put off our _réunion +musicale_ for next Thursday, and the Denison's dinner-party for +to-morrow. I can't think how Hugh came to do it--for of course he +_must_ have done it, though Ada won't hear a word against him." + +"He did _not_ do it, Mrs. Leslie! Ada is right, as she always is." + +"Ah! well, so Lister Wilmot tried to make me believe; but then he says +everything is against poor Hugh, and that even you feel obliged to +give evidence against him. I must say, John Kavanagh, that I think it +very strange of you to have volunteered to give evidence. Wilmot was +explaining it all to us, and said you couldn't help yourself; for the +first words you had said to the policeman when he came to you +criminated your friend." + +A glimmer of light was beginning to dawn in my mind; but its ray was +very faint and dim as yet; and after all it might only prove a +will-o'-the-wisp. Still I would not lose it if possible. + +"Wilmot told you that, did he? Does Ada know?" + +"Yes; she was here when he came. He told us everything that had passed +all that had been said by his uncle the last evening he saw him alive. +He mentioned a great deal which had been kept back--purposely I +suppose, and for some motive we don't understand now, but which will +come out by and by, no doubt," said Mrs. Leslie with a burst of spite +in her voice. + +"Would you have the goodness to send word to Ada that I am here?" I +said very stiffly. + +"Oh! I forgot. She desired her kindest regards when you called, but +she could not see you this morning. She will write." + +I looked at her, and something convinced me she was telling a lie. I +got up very quietly and rang the bell. + +"Let Miss Leslie know I am here, Kings." + +"Yes, sir." + +Then Mrs. Leslie's anger broke forth. How dared I presume so far-- +take such a liberty in her house! I forgot myself; I was no gentleman, +but a meddling, interfering man, disappointed and soured because I had +not secured Ada and her fortune for myself. _She had seen it all +along_. So she raved on--so I let her rave; and when she ceased I +answered her: + +"If I have taken a liberty in giving an order under your roof and to +your servant, I beg your pardon. But this is no time to stop at +trifles or considerations of mere etiquette involving no real breach +of good breeding. So long as your daughter is a minor I shall hold +myself responsible for the trust her dead father confided to me +conjointly with yourself; and, so help me God, I will perform the +sacred duty to its utmost limits and regardless of human respect! +There is foul play going on around us, and some influence--I know not +yet whose--is at work to undermine the happiness of us all. There is +bitter need that no fatal misunderstanding should arise between my +ward and myself; that no subtle representations of interested persons +should shake the reliance upon my integrity and honor, which hitherto +Ada has placed in her father's friend. A life more precious to her +than her own, and {460} dear to me as a brother's, is at stake; and I +foresee, though dimly and darkly, that it imports far more than +perhaps we dream of now to keep everything clear between us in our +several relations with each other. At any rate I will allow no foolish +fancies, no weak pride, to stand between your daughter and myself, her +legal guardian and _sole trustee_." + +I spoke very sternly, and purposely laid a stress upon my last words, +knowing the woman with whom I was dealing, and the full weight they +would have with her. Nor was I mistaken. She burst into a feeble +querulous fit of crying; and the servant returning at that moment with +a message from Ada asking me to go up-stairs, I left Mrs. Leslie to +her reflections. + +My ward was in her little morning-room. She was writing at the table, +and the room was partially darkened, as if she could not bear the full +sunlight of that bright autumn day. There were birds and flowers and +music around her; but the birds had hushed their song, the flowers +drooped their heads, as if missing the careful hand that tended them; +and the music that generally greeted one there was silent. Oh! when +would she sing again? I felt something about my feet as I advanced +towards her, and heard a piteous whine I looked down; it was a little +rough shaggy terrier,--Hugh's dog. Poor Dandie! He recognized me, and +looked for one with whom he was so accustomed to see me. + +"I sent for him," said Ada, lifting her weary wan face as I stood +beside her. "I fancied he would be happier here--less lonely; but he +is not--he wants _him_." + +The dog seemed to understand her; for he came and, putting his +forepaws upon her knee, laid his head upon them, and looking toward me +whined again. She laid her cheek down upon his rough head and caressed +him. + +"Not yet, Dandie,--not yet. We must be patient, doggie, and he will +come to us again." + +It was a few moments before I could speak; but time was hastening on +apace. Whilst I stood by the fire thinking how best to begin the +subject I had at heart, Ada came and laid her hand on my arm. + +"I have been wishing for you; I thought you would never come." + +Then her mother had told a lie; but I said nothing. + +"Lister Wilmot has been here this morning, talking a good deal." She +stopped and hesitated. + +To help her, I said, "Yes; so your mother tells me." + +She looked at me inquiringly. "Has she told all that passed--all that +he said?" + +"She told me a great deal; but I would rather hear everything from +_you_. My child, don't hesitate to confide in me. You don't know how +it may help to clear matters up, which seem to be so fearfully +complicated now." + +I think she understood me, for she sighed wearily, and I heard her +murmur to herself, "Poor mamma!" + +"Lister was very kind this morning, and was in dreadful trouble about +--_him_. He said he had thought of me more than any one, and would +have come yesterday, but had so much to arrange and see to." + +And then Ada went on to relate what passed, a great deal of which I +had gathered from Mrs. Leslie. + +"There is one thing," she concluded, "which I did not and would not +believe. He says you have volunteered to give evidence against _him_," +(it seemed as if she could not bring herself to mention Hugh by name;) +"but I said it could not be,--that there must have been a mistake. +What is the worst of all is, that since Lister was here, mamma +persists in saying _he_ is guilty; somehow, though his words defended, +his tone and manner implied he thought his cousin guilty." + +"Ada, it is true I shall have to give evidence which may help to +criminate Hugh; but it is more than equally false that I ever +volunteered to bear {461} witness against him. You were right; _never +believe it_." + +Then I told her how it was, and how I had shrunk from letting her know +it before. + +"And now, my child, I must go. You know the inquest is to take place +this afternoon, and I have to be there; but first I must return to +Merrivale's, and settle many things with him." + +"You will come back to me afterward." + +"Surely; as soon as it is over." + +"Do you think _he_ will be present?" + +"I trust not, oh! I trust not! But perhaps he will wish to watch the +proceedings himself, as well as Merrivale. God be with you, Ada, and +good-bye!" + +I was on the threshold of the door when she called me back. + +"I am very foolish, guardian, not to have said it before; but I could +not--and yet I ought and must." + +Her hand was resting on a well-worn morocco case. I knew it well--it +was Hugh's likeness, and a faint color tinged her white cheeks; but +she mastered the shy feeling, whatever it was, and looked clearly and +earnestly at me. + +"Something was said by Lister Wilmot of what had dropped from poor Mr. +Thorneley the last night of his life about you and me. I don't know +why he should have repeated it; but as it is, I wanted to ask you not +to mind it; at least, not to notice what may be said by others--by my +mother. I only fear lest anything of the kind being said should come +between us, and destroy our confidence in one another, because we +understand each other so well--you and I and Hugh,"--how lingeringly +she spoke his name!--"and we have no secrets between us that all +three may not share. And I have feared lest this worse than +foolishness, dragged out publicly, should change anything in our +intercourse, or prevent you from acting, as hitherto, a parent's part +toward a fatherless girl." + +"_Nothing_, Ada, can change me toward you; and when people think of +you and then of me, they will not heed the childish babble that may go +about." + +"Thanks, guardian." + +"Worse than foolishness!"--I said the words over to myself many times +as I drove back to Lincoln's Inn; and in the hazy distant future I saw +a weary wayworn pilgrim slowly toiling along life's lonely road, who, +looking back to this past year come and gone, would still repeat, +"Worse than foolishness!" + +I found Merrivale in deep conference with a mean-looking little man +with a short stubbly head of hair that bristled up like a +scrubbing-brush, and of a melancholy cast of countenance, as if +accustomed to view life darkly, through the medium of duns and +such-like evils to which man is heir. His eyes were the only redeeming +point about him, and they really were two of the sharpest, most +intelligent orbs I ever saw in my life. They lighted upon me the +moment I entered the room, and seemed to take in my whole exterior and +interior person with a knowingness that was perfectly alarming. + +"This is the gentleman, I suppose, sir, who was with the defunct party +the night of the murder," said a wonderfully soft voice. + +"Yes; Mr. Kavanagh.--This is Inspector Keene, the very clever officer +I mentioned to you, Kavanagh." + +I acknowledged Mr. Keene's salute with becoming deference. + +"Have you any news?" I asked. + +"Well, sir," with a quick cautious glance at Merrivale, "I have and I +have not. Before I say anything further, I should be glad to ask the +gentleman a few questions, Mr. Merrivale, if agreeable." + +"By all means," I answered. + +He put me through a sharp cross-questioning on every point with which +the reader is acquainted, making rapid notes of all my answers and +remarks. Then he sat silently scraping his chin and gnawing his nails +for some minutes. At last he looked up suddenly. + +"The funeral, I understand, is fixed {462} for next Tuesday, and after +that is over _the Will is to be read_. Perhaps that may throw some +light on the subject." + +I could not for the life of me repress a start, and Inspector Keene +made a mental note of it, I knew. + +"Good-day, gentlemen. I will call on you, Mr. Merrivale, to-morrow. _I +think I am on the scent_." + +"Come," said Merrivale, "we must be off, or we shall be late." + + +TO BE CONTINUED. + +------ + +[ ORIGINAL. ] + + +OUR MOTHER'S CALL. + + + Come home, O weary wanderers, from error's tangled maze, + My mother-heart yearns sore for you in all your troubled ways. + I've rest, and food, and shelter, for all the earth can hold-- + Then hasten, weary wanderers, home to the single fold. + + I am the Master's gamer, which ever yieldeth more, + The more the needy millions receiving from my store; + No number's can exhaust me; no beggar at my gate + For rest and food and shelter, shall ever have to wait. + + If in mine inner chamber the Master seems to sleep, + While fearful storm and peril are out upon the deep. + My lightest tone will call him to rescue of his own + For his dear children's haven I am, _and I alone_. + + Almighty wisdom made me the home upon the rock-- + The Saviour's fold of safety to all his ransomed flock. + My door is ever open, and they who enter in. + Find rest from all their wanderings, and cleansing from their sin. + + One thing, and but one only, the Master doth demand. + That they who seek shall find him as he himself hath planned; + Beneath my lowly portal shall bow each haughty head, + And to my narrow pathway return each wandering tread. + + _I cannot lift the lintel, nor widen out the posts, + For every stone was fashioned by him, the Lord of hosts_. + _My Master_, and thy Master if thou wilt hear his voice + And in his pleasant pastures for evermore rejoice. + + Can human handcraft ever compete in skill with him, + Whose throne is in the heavens amid the cherubim? + Then cease your idle toiling another home to raise; + He on my fair proportions toiled all his mortal days. + +{463} + + When out of depths of darkness he called the glorious sun + In all its dazzling splendor, _he spoke_ and it was done; + His sweat and blood were both poured out that he might fashion me + His sun to souls in darkness till time no more shall be. + + Hold it no light offending that you can turn aside, + And scorn in wilful blindness the Saviour's spotless bride. + He who hath full dominion unchecked o'er all the earth, + Made me the mighty mother of the blest second-birth. + + Come, weigh ye well the value of his three and thirty years, + And number o'er the treasure of all his prayers and tears. + And count ye out the life-drops that flowed from his cleft side. + And learn the wondrous bounty with which he dowered his bride. + + Rich-dowered for your salvation, ye dearly bought of earth! + By his dying, and my living, oh! weigh salvation's worth, + And in the single shelter his mighty love hath given. + Learn the dear will that maketh the blessedness of heaven. + +GENEVIEVE SALES. + +EASTERTIDE, 1866. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +USE AND ABUSE OF READING. [Footnote 81] + + [Footnote 81: "Appel aux Consciences Chrétiennes contre les abus et + les dangers de la lecture."' P. Toulemont. Etudes Religieuses, + Historiques et Literaires. Tome 8, N. S.] + +We have been much interested in the grave and earnest essay on the +abuses and dangers of reading, by P. Toulemont, in that excellent +periodical, the "Etudes," so ably conducted by fathers of the Society +of Jesus, and we would translate and present it to the readers of the +Catholic World in its integrity, if some portions of it were not +better adapted to France than to the United States; yet much which we +shall advance in this article is inspired by it, and we shall make +free use of its ideas, facts, authorities, and arguments. + +This is a reading age, and ours is to a great extent a reading +country. The public mind, taste, and morals are with us chiefly formed +by books, pamphlets, periodicals, and journals. The American people +sustain more journals or newspaper than all the world beside, and +probably devour more light literature, or fiction, or trashy novels +than any other nation. Reading of some sort is all but universal, and +the press is by far the most efficient government of the country. The +government itself practically is little else with us than public +sentiment, and public sentiment is both formed and echoed by the +press. Indeed, the press is not merely "a fourth estate," as it has +been called, but an estate which has well-nigh usurped the functions +of all the others, and taken the sole direction of the intellectual +and moral destinies of the civilized world. + +The press, taken in its largest sense, is, after speech--which it +repeats, extends and perpetuates--the most powerful influence, whether +for good or for evil, that man wields or can wield; and however great +the evils which flow from its perversion, it could not be annihilated +or its freedom suppressed without the loss of a still greater good, +{464} that is, restrained by the public authorities. In this country +we have established the _régime_ of liberty, and that _régime_, with +its attendant good and evil, must be accepted in its principle, and in +all its logical consequences. If a free press becomes a fearful +instrument for evil in the hands of the heedless or ill-disposed, it +is no less an instrument for good in the hands of the enlightened, +honest, and capable. The free press in the modern world is needed to +defend the right, to advance the true, to maintain order, morality, +intelligence, civilization, and cannot be given up for the sake of +escaping the evils which flow from its abuse. + +Yet these evils are neither few nor light, and are such as tend to +enlarge and perpetuate themselves. Not the least of the evils of +journalism, for instance, is the necessity it is under in order to +live, to get readers, and to get readers it must echo public opinion +or party feeling, defend causes that need no defence, and flatter +passions already too strong. Instead of correcting public sentiment +and laboring to form a sound public opinion or a correct moral +judgment, its conductors are constantly tempted to feel the public +pulse to discover what is for the moment popular, and then to echo it, +and to denounce all who dissent from it or fall not down and worship +it; forgetting if what is popular is erroneous or unjust, it is wrong +to echo it, and if true and just, it needs no special defence, for it +is already in the ascendant; and forgetting, also, that it is the +unpopular truth, the unpopular cause, the cause of the wronged and +oppressed, the poor and friendless, too feeble to make its own voice +heard, and which has no one to speak for it, that needs the support of +the journal. When John the Baptist sent two of his disciples to our +Lord to ask him, "Art thou he that is to come, or are we to look for +another?" our Lord said: "Go and tell John . . . that the blind see, +the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise +again, the poor have the gospel preached to them." Here was the +evidence of his messiahship. "They that are whole need not a +physician, but they that are sick." + +This is not all: needing to be always on the popular side, the press +not only plants itself on the lowest general average of intelligence +and virtue, but it tends constantly to lower that general average, and +hence becomes low and debasing in its influence. It grows ever more +and more corrupt and corrupting, till the public mind becomes so +vitiated and weakened that it will neither relish nor profit by the +sounder works needed as remedies. + +In the moral and intellectual sciences we write introductions where we +once wrote treatises, because the publisher knows that the +introductions will sell, while the elaborate treatise will only +encumber his shelves, or go to the pastry-cook or the paper-maker. Not +only do the journals flatter popular passions, appeal to vitiated +tastes, or a low standard of morals, but books do the same, and often +in a far greater degree. The great mass of books written and published +in the more enlightened and advanced modern nations are immoral and +hostile not only to the soul hereafter, but to all the serious +interests of this life. A few years since the French government +appointed a commission to investigate the subject of colportage in +France and the commission reported after a conscientious examination +that of nine millions of works colported eight millions were more or +less immoral. Of the novels which circulate in the English-speaking +world, original or translated, one not immoral and possible to be read +without tainting the imagination or the heart is the rare exception. +Under pretence of _realism_ nature is oftener exhibited in her +unseemly than in her seemly moods, and the imagination of the young is +compelled to dwell on the grossest vices and corruptions of a moribund +society. Chastity of {465} thought, innocence of heart, purity of +imagination, cannot be preserved by a diligent reader even of the +better class of the light literature of the day. This literature so +vitiates the taste, so corrupts the imagination, and so sullies the +heart, that its readers can see no merit and find no relish in works +not highly spiced with vice, crime, or disorderly passion. The +literary stomach has been so weakened by vile stimulants that it +cannot bear a sound or a wholesome literature, and such works as a +Christian would write, and a Christian read, would find scarcely a +market, or readers sufficiently numerous to pay for its publication. + +It is boasted that popular literature describes nature as it is, or +society as it is, and is therefore true, and truth is never immoral. +Truth truthfully told, and truthfully received, is indeed never +immoral, but even truth may be so told as to have the effect of a lie. +But these highly spiced novels--which one can hardly read without +feeling when he has finished them as if he had been spending a night +in dissipation or debauchery, and with which our English-speaking +world is inundated--are neither true to nature nor to society. They +give certain features of society, but really paint neither high life +nor low life, nor yet middle life as it is. They rarely give a real +touch of nature, and seldom come near enough to truth to caricature +it. They give us sometimes the sentiment, sometimes the affection of +love with a touch of truth--but, after all, only truth's surface or a +distant and distorted view of it. They paint better the vices of +nature, man's abuse or perversion of nature, than the virtues. Their +virtuous characters are usually insipid or unnatural; nature has +depths their plummets sound not, and heights to which they rise not. +There they forget that in the actual providence of God nature never +exists and operates alone, but either through demoniacal influence +descends below, or through divine grace rises above itself. They +either make nature viler than she is or nobler than she is. They never +hit the just medium, and the views of nature, society, and life the +young reader gets from them, are exaggerated, distorted, or totally +false. The constant reading of them renders the heart and soul morbid, +the mind weak and sickly, the affections capricious and fickle, the +whole man ill at ease, sighing for what he has not, and incapable of +being contented with any possible lot or state of life, or with any +real person or thing. + +Beside books which the conscience of a pagan would pronounce immoral, +and which cannot be touched without defilement, there are others that +by their false and heretical doctrines tend to undermine faith and to +sap those moral convictions without which society cannot subsist, and +religion is an empty name or idle form. The country is flooded with a +literature which not only denies this or that Christian mystery, this +or that Catholic dogma, that not only rejects supernatural revelation, +but even natural reason itself. The tendency of what is regarded as +the advanced thought of the age is not only to eliminate Christian +faith from the intellect, Christian morality from the heart, Christian +love from the soul, but Christian civilization from society. The most +popular literature of the day recognizes no God, no Satan, no heaven, +no hell, and either preaches the worship of the soul, or of humanity. +Christian charity is resolved into the watery sentiment of +philanthropy, and the Catholic veneration of the Blessed Virgin +lapses, outside of the church, into an idolatrous worship of +femininity. The idea of duty is discarded, and we are gravely told +there is no merit in doing a thing because it is our duty; the merit +is only in doing it from love, and love, which, in the Christian +sense, is the fulfilling of the law, is defined to be a sentiment +without any relation to the understanding or the conscience. Not only +the authority of the church is rejected in the name of humanity {466} +by the graver part of popular literature, but the authority of the +state, the sacredness of law, the inviolability of marriage, and the +duty of obedience of children to their parents, are discarded as +remnants of social despotism now passing away. The tendency is in the +name of humanity to eliminate the church, the state, and the family, +and to make man a bigger word than God. In view of the anti-religious, +anti-moral, and anti-social doctrines which in some form or in some +guise or other permeate the greater part of what is looked upon as the +living literature of the age, and which seem to fetch an echo from the +heart of humanity, well might Pope Gregory XVI., of immortal memory, +in the grief of his paternal heart exclaim, "We are struck with horror +in seeing with what monstrous doctrines, or rather with what prodigies +of error we are inundated by this deluge of books, pamphlets, and +writings of every sort whose lamentable irruption has covered the +earth with maledictions!" + +"There doubtless are men," as Père Toulemont says, "who have very +little to fear from the most perfidious artifices of impiety, as, +prepared by a strong and masculine intellectual discipline, they are +able to easily detect the most subtle sophisms. No subtlety, no _tour +de metier_, if I may so speak, can escape them. At the first glance of +the eye they seize the false shade, the confusion of ideas or of +words; they redress at once the illusive perspective created by the +mirage of a lying style. The fascinations of error excite in them only +a smile of pity or of contempt. + +"Yes, there are such men, but they are rare. Take even men of solid +character, with more than ordinary instruction, and deeply attached to +their faith, think you, that even they will be able always to rise +from the reading of this literature perfectly unaffected? I appeal to +the experience of more than one reader, if it is not true after having +run over certain pages written with perfidious art, that we find +ourselves troubled with an indescribable uneasiness, an incipient +vertigo or bewilderment? We need then, as it were, to give a shake to +the soul, to force it to throw off the impression it has received, and +if we neglect to assist it more or less vigorously, it soon deepens +and assumes alarming proportions. No doubt, unless in exceptional +circumstances, strong convictions are not sapped to their foundation +by a single blow, but one needs no long experience to be aware that +this sad result is likely to follow in the long run, and much more +rapidly than is commonly believed, even with persons who belong to the +aristocracy of intelligence. + +"This will be still more the case if we descend to a lower social +stratum, to the middle classes who embody the great majority of +Christian readers. With these mental culture is very defective, and +sometimes we find in them an ignorance of the most elementary Catholic +instruction that is really astounding. What, at any rate, is +undeniable, is that their faith is not truly enlightened either in +relation to its object or its grounds. It ordinarily rests on +sentiment far more than on reason. They have not taken the trouble to +render to themselves an account of the arguments which sustain it; +much less still are they able to solve the difficulties which +unbelievers suggest against it. Add to this general absence of serious +intellectual instruction, the absence not less general of force and +independence of character, and the position becomes frightful. In our +days it must be confessed the energy of the moral temperament is +singularly enfeebled, and never perhaps was the assertion of the +prophet, _omne caput languidum_, the whole head is sick, more true +than now. Robust and masculine habits seem to have given place to a +sort of sybaritism of soul, which renders the soul adverse to all +personal effort, or individual labor. See, for example, that multitude +which devours so greedily the first books that come to hand. Takes it +any care to control the things which pass before its eyes, or to {467} +render to itself any account of them by serious reflection? Not at +all. The attention it gives to what it reads is very nearly null, or, +at best, it is engrossed far more with the form, the style, or the +term of the phrase, than with the substance, or ground of the ideas +expressed. The mind is rendered, so to say, wholly passive, ready to +receive without reflection any impression or submit to any influence." + +The great body of the faithful in no country can read the immoral, +heretical, infidel, humanitarian, and socialistic literature of the +age without more or less injury to their moral and spiritual life, or +without some lesion even to their faith itself; although it be not +wholly subverted. Can a man touch pitch and not be defiled? It is +precisely the devouring of this literature as its daily intellectual +food, or as its literary pabulum, that produces that sybaritism of +soul, that feebleness of character, that aversion to all manly effort +or individual exertion without which robust and masculine virtue is +impossible. + +There is certainly much strong faith in the Catholic population of the +United States, perhaps more in proportion to their numbers than in any +of the old Catholic nations of Europe; but this strong faith is found +chiefly amongst those who have read very little of the enervating +literature of the day. In the younger class in whom a taste for +reading has been cultivated, and who are great consumers of "yellow +covered literature," and the men who read only the secula and partisan +journals, we witness the same weakness of moral and religious +character, and the same feeble grasp of the great truths of the gospel +complained of by Père Toulemont. To a great extent the reading of +non-Catholic literature, non-Catholic books, periodicals, novels and +journals, neutralizes in our sons and daughters the influence of +Catholic schools, academies, and colleges, and often effaces the good +impression received in them. + +The prevalence of such a literature, so erroneous in doctrine, so +false in principle, and so debasing in tendency, must be deplored by +Catholics, not only as injurious to morals, and too often fatal to the +life of the soul, but as ruinous to modern civilization, which is +founded on the great principles of the Catholic religion, and has been +in great part created by the Catholic Church, chiefly by her supreme +pontiffs, and her bishops and clergy, regular and secular. The +tendency of modern literature, especially of journalism, a very modern +creation, is to reduce our civilization far below that of ancient +gentilism, and it seems hard that we who under God have civilized the +barbarians once should have to begin our work anew, and go through the +labor of civilizing them again. Our non-Catholic countrymen cannot +lose Christian civilization without our being compelled to suffer with +them. They drag us, as they sink down, after them. This country is our +home and is to be the home of our children and our children's +children, and we more than any other class of American citizens are +interested in its future. It is not, then, solely the injury we as +Catholics may receive from an irreligious and immoral literature that +moves us; but also the injury it does to those who are not as yet +within the pale of the church, but between whom and us there is a real +solidarity as men and citizens, and who cannot suffer without our +suffering, and civilization itself suffering, with them. + +As men, as citizens, as Christians, and as Catholics, it becomes to us +a most grave question--What can be done to guard against the dangers +which threaten religion and civilization from an irreligious and +immoral literature? This question is, no doubt, primarily a question +for the pastors of the church, but it is, in submission to them, also +a question for the Catholic laity, for they have their part, and an +important part, in the work necessary to be done. There can be no +doubt that bad books and irreligious journals are dangerous +companions, and the {468} most dangerous of all companions, for their +evil influence is more genial and more lasting. Plato and most of the +pagan philosophers and legislators required the magistrates to +intervene and suppress all books judged to be immoral and dangerous +either to the individual or to society, and in all modern civilized +states the law professes either to prevent or to punish their +publication. Even John Milton, in his "Areopagitica," or plea for +unlicensed printing, says he denies not to magistrates the right to +take note how books demean themselves, and if they offend to punish +them as any other class of offenders. English and American law leaves +every one free to publish what he pleases, but holds the author and +publisher responsible for the abuse they may make of the liberty of +the press. In all European states there was formerly, and in some +continental states there is still, a preventive censorship, more or +less rigid, and more or less effective. Formerly the civil law +enforced the censures pronounced by the church, but there is hardly a +state in which this is the case now. + +Whatever our views of the civil freedom of the press may be, +ecclesiastical censorship, or censorship addressed to the conscience +by the spiritual authority, is still possible, and both proper and +necessary. The act of writing and publishing a book or pamphlet, or +editing and publishing a periodical or journal, is an act of which the +law of God takes account as much as any other act a man can perform, +and is therefore as fully within the jurisdiction of the spiritual +authority. So also is the act of reading, and the spiritual director +has the same right to look after what books his penitent reads, as +after what company he keeps. The whole subject of writing, editing, +publishing, and reading books, pamphlets, tractates, periodicals, and +journals, comes within the scope of the spiritual authority, and is +rightly subjected to ecclesiastical discipline. In point of fact, it +is so treated in principle by heterodox communions, as well as by the +church. The Presbyterians are even more rigid in their discipline as +to writing and reading than Catholics are, though they may not always +avow it. The Methodists claim the right for their conferences to +prescribe to Methodist communicants what books they ought not to read, +and seldom will you find a strict Methodist or Presbyterian reading a +Catholic book. It is much the same with all Protestants who belong to +what they call the church as distinguished from the congregation--a +distinction which does not obtain among Catholics, for with us all +baptized persons, not excommunicated, belong to the church. There is +no reason why the church should not direct me in my reading as well as +in my associations, or discipline me for writing or publishing a lie +in a book or a newspaper as well as for telling a lie orally to my +neighbor or swearing to a falsehood in a court of justice. + +But when the church, as with us, is not backed in her censures by the +civil law, when her canons and decrees have no civil effect, the +ecclesiastical authority becomes practically only an appeal to the +Catholic conscience, and while her censures indicate the law of +conscience in regard to the matters censured, they depend on our +conscience alone for their effectiveness. Hence our remedy, in the +last analysis, as Père Toulemont implies, is in the appeal to +Christian consciences against the dangerous literature of the day; and +happily Catholics have a Christian conscience,--though sometimes in +now and then one it may be a little drowsy--that can be appealed to +with effect, for they have faith, do believe in the reality of the +invisible and the eternal, and know that it profiteth a man nothing to +gain the whole world and lose his own soil. The church declares by +divine constitution and assistance the law of God which governs +conscience, and when properly instructed by her, the Catholic has not +only a conscience, but an enlightened {469} conscience, and knows what +is right and what is wrong, what is useful and what is dangerous +reading, and can always act intelligently as well as conscientiously. + +Père Toulemont shows in his essay that it is not reading or literature +that the church discourages or condemns, but the abuse of literature +and its employment for purposes contrary to the law of God, or the +reading of vile, debasing, and corrupting books, periodicals, and +journals which can only taint the imagination, sully the purity of the +heart, weaken or disturb faith, and stunt the growth of the Christian +virtues. The conscience of every Christian tells him that to read +immoral books, to familiarize himself with a low, vile, corrupt and +corrupting literature, whatever may be the beauty of its form, the +seductions of its style, or the charms of its dictation, is morally +and religiously wrong. + +Père Toulemont shows by numerous references to their bulls and briefs +that the supreme pontiff have never from the earliest ages ceased to +warn the faithful against the writings of heretics and infidels, or to +prohibit the reading, writing, publishing, buying, selling, or even +keeping impure, immodest, or immoral books or publications of any sort +or form, as the civil law even with us prohibits obscene pictures and +spectacles. It was to guard the faithful against improper and +dangerous reading that St. Pius the Fifth established at Rome the +congregation of the Index; and that publications by whomsoever written +judged by the congregation to be unsafe, likely to corrupt faith or +morals, are still placed on the Index. Nothing is more evident than +that the church, while encouraging in all ages and countries +literature, science, and art, has never allowed her children the +indiscriminate reading of all manner of books, pamphlets, tractates, +and journals. There are writings the reading of which she prohibits as +the careful mother would prevent her innocent, thoughtless child from +swallowing poison. Her discipline in this respect is accepted and felt +to be wise and just by every man and woman in whom conscience is not +extinct or fast asleep. Even the pagan world felt its necessity as +does the modern Protestant world. The natural reason of every man +accepts the principle of this discipline, and asserts that there are +sorts of reading which no man, learned or unlearned, should permit +himself. The Christian conscience once awakened recoils with +instinctive horror from immoral books and publications, and no one who +really loves our Lord Jesus Christ can take pleasure in reading books, +periodicals, or journals that tend to weaken Christian faith and +corrupt Christian morals, any more than the pious son can take +pleasure in hearing his own father or mother traduced or calumniated; +and what such publications are, the Catholic, if his own instincts +fail to inform him, can always learn from the pastors of his church. + +The first steps toward remedying the evils of the prevailing immoral +literature must be in an earnest appeal to all sincere Christians to +set their faces resolutely against all reading, whatever its form, +that tends to sap the great principles of revealed truths, to destroy +faith in the great mysteries of the Gospel, to subvert morality, to +substitute sentiment for reason, or feeling for rational conviction, +to ruin the family and the state, and thus undermine the foundations +of civilized society. This, if done, would erect the Christian +conscience into a real censorship of the press, and operate as a +corrective of its licentiousness, without in the least infringing on +its freedom. It would diminish the supply of bad literature by +lessening the demand. This would be much, and would create a Christian +literary public opinion, if I may so speak, which would become each +day stronger, more general, more effective, and which writers, +editors, publishers, and booksellers, would find themselves obliged to +respect, as politicians find themselves obliged to treat {470} the +Catholic religion with respect, whenever they wish to secure the votes +of Catholic citizens. Fidelity to conscience in those who have not yet +lost the faith, and in whom the spiritual life is not yet wholly +extinct, will go far toward remedying the evil, for the movement begun +will gather volume and momentum as it goes on. + +The next step is for Catholics to regard it as a matter of conscience +to demand and sustain a pure and high-toned literature, or ample, +savory, and wholesome literary diet, for the public. Reading, in +modern civilized communities, has become in some sort a necessary of +life, a necessity, not a luxury, and when we take into consideration +the number of youth of both sexes which we send forth yearly from our +colleges, academies, private, parochial, conventual, and public +schools, we cannot fail to perceive that it is, and must be a growing +necessity in our Catholic community; and we may set this down as +certain, that when wholesome food is not to be had, people will feed +on unwholesome food, and die of that which they have taken to sustain +life. But if people, through indifference or negligence take no heed +whether the food be wholesome or unwholesome, or through a depraved +appetite prefer the unwholesome because more highly spiced, very +little wholesome food will be offered in the market. Many complaints +are heard from time to time of our Catholic press, because it does not +give us journals of a higher order, more really Catholic in principle, +of higher moral tone, and greater intellectual and literary merit. +Even supposing the facts to be as these complaints assume, the +complaints themselves are unjust. The editors and publishers of +Catholic journals edit and publish them as a lawful business, and very +naturally seek the widest circulation possible. To secure that, they +necessarily appeal to the broadest, and therefore the lowest average +of intelligence and virtue of the public they address. They who depend +on public sentiment or public opinion must study to conform to it, not +to redress or reform it. The journals of every country represent the +lowest average intelligence and virtue of the public for which they +are designed. The first condition of their existence is that they be +popular with their own public, party, sect, or denomination. +Complaints are also frequently heard of our Catholic publishers and +booksellers, for not supplying a general literature, scientific and +philosophical works, such as general readers, who though good +Catholics, are not particularly ascetic, and wish to have now and then +other than purely spiritual reading, and also such as scholars and +scientific men seek, in which the erudition and science proper are not +marred by theories and hypotheses, speculations and conjectures which +serve only to disturb faith and stunt the growth of the spiritual +life. But these complaints are also unjust. The publishers issue the +best books that the market will take up. There is no demand for other +or better books than they publish; and such books as are really +needed, aside from bibles, prayer-books, and books for spiritual +reading, they can publish only at their own expense. They are governed +by the same law that governs editors and publishers of newspapers or +journals, and naturally seek the broadest, and therefore in most +respects the lowest average, and issue works which tend constantly to +lower the standard instead of elevating it. The evil tendency, like +rumor, _crescit eundo_. + +There is no redress but in the appeal to Christian consciences, since +the public now fills the place of patrons which was formerly filled by +princes and nobles, bishops and monastic or religious houses. The +matter cannot be left to regulate itself, for the public taste has not +been cultivated and formed to support the sort of reading demanded, +and will not do it from taste and inclination, or at all except from a +sense of duty. The great majority of the people of France are +Catholics, yet a few years ago there {471} were Parisian journals +hostile to Catholics, that circulated each from 40,000 to 60,000 +copies daily, while the daily circulation of all the Catholic journals +and periodicals in all France did not exceed 25,000. It should be as +much a matter of conscience with Catholics to open a market for a +sound and healthy literature as to refrain from encouraging and +reading immoral and dangerous publications. We gain heaven not merely +by refraining from evil, but by doing good. The servant that wrapped +his talent in a clean napkin and hid it in the earth was condemned not +because he had lost or abused his talent, but because he had not used +it and put it out to usury. The church attaches indulgences to doing +good works, not to abstaining from bad works. + +The taste of the age runs less to books than to reviews, magazines, +and especially to newspapers or the daily journals. People are too +busy, in too great a hurry, for works of long breath. Folios and +octavos frighten them, and they can hardly abide a duodecimo. Their +staple reading is the telegraphic despatches in the daily press. Long +elaborate articles in reviews are commended or censured by many more +persons than read them, and many more read than understand them, for +people nowadays think very little except about their business, their +pleasures, or the management of their party. Still the review or +magazine is the best compromise that can be made between the elaborate +treatise and the clever leader of the journal. It is the best literary +medium now within reach of the Catholic public, and can meet better +than any other form of publication our present literary wants, and +more effectively stimulate thought, cultivate the understanding and +the taste, and enable us to take our proper place in the literature +and science of the country. But here again conscience must be appealed +to, the principle of duty must come in. Few men can write and publish +at their own expense a magazine of high character, of pure literary +taste, sound morals, and sound theology, able in literary and +scientific merit, in genius, instruction, and amusement, to compete +successfully with the best magazines going, and there is at this +moment no public formed to hand large enough to sustain such +periodical, and even the men to write it have in some sort to be +created, or at least to be drawn out. It must be for a time supported +by men who do not want it as a luxury or to meet their own literary +tastes, but who appreciate its merits, are aware of the service it may +render in creating a taste for wholesome instead of unwholesome +reading. That is, it most be sustained by persons who, in purchasing +it, act not so much from inclination as from a sense of duty, which is +always a nobler, and in the long run, a stronger motive of action, +than devotion to interest or pleasure; for it is in harmony with all +that is true and good, and has on it the blessing of heaven. It is +precisely because Catholics can act from a sense of duty that we can +overcome the evil that is ruining society. + +No doubt we are here pleading, to a certain extent, our own cause, but +we only ask others to act on the principle on which we ourselves are +acting. THE CATHOLIC WORLD is not published as a private speculation, +nor with the expectation of personal gain. Our cause is what we hold +to be here and now the Catholic cause, and it is from a sense of duty +that we devote ourselves to it. We are deeply conscious of the need +for us Catholics in the United States of a purer and more wholesome +literature than any which is accessible to the great majority, and +than any which can be produced outside of the Catholic community, or +by other than Catholics. We need it for ourselves as Catholics, we +need it for our country as a means of arresting the downward tendency +of popular literature, and of influencing for good those who are our +countrymen, though unhappily not within our communion. There is +nothing personal to us in the cause {472} we serve, and it is no more +_ours_ than it is that of every Catholic who has the ability to serve +it. If we plead for our magazine, it is only as it is identified with +the Catholic cause in our country, and we can be as disinterested in +so soliciting support for it as if it was in other hands, and we +solicit support for it no farther than it appeals to the Catholic +conscience. We have seen the danger to the country, and the +destruction to souls threatened by the popular literature of the day, +and we are doing what we can in our unpretending way to commence a +reaction against it, and give to our American public a taste for +something better than they now feed on. We cannot prevent our +Catholic youth who have a taste for reading from reading the vile and +debasing popular literature of the day, unless we give them something +as attractive and more wholesome in its place, and this cannot be done +without the hearty and conscientious cooperation of the Catholic +community with us. + +Catholics are not a feeble and helpless colony in the United States. +We are a numerous body, the largest religious denomination in the +country. There are but two cities in the world that have a larger +Catholic population than this very city of New York, and there are +several Catholic nations holding a very respectable rank in the +Catholic world, that have not so large, and upon the whole so wealthy +a Catholic population as the United States. We are numerous enough, +and have means enough to found and sustain all the institutions, +religious, charitable, educational, literary, scientific, and artistic +needed by a Catholic nation, and there is no Catholic nation where +Catholic activity finds fewer "lets and hindrances" from the civil +government. We are free, and we have in proportion to our numbers our +full share of influence in public affairs, municipal, state, and +national; no part of the population partakes more largely of the +general prosperity of the country, and no part has suffered less from +the late lamentable civil war. We have our Church organized under a +regular hierarchy, with priests rapidly increasing in numbers, +churches springing up all over the land, and Catholic emigrants from +the old world pouring in by thousands and hundreds of thousands. We +are numerous enough and strong enough in all religious, literary, and +scientific matters, to suffice for ourselves. There is no reason in +the world, but our own spiritual indolence and the torpidity of our +consciences, why we should continue to feed on the unwholesome +literary garbage provided for us by the humanitarianism and pruriency +of the age. We are able to have a general literature of our own, the +production of genuine Catholic taste and genius, if we will it, and at +present are better able than the Catholics of any other nation; for +our means are ample, and the government and civil institutions place +no obstacles in our way, which can be said of Catholics nowhere else. + +Our Catholic community is large enough, and contains readers enough, +to sustain as many periodicals as are needed, and to absorb large +editions enough of literary and scientific works of the highest +character to make it an object with the trade to publish them, as well +as with authors to write them. Works of imagination, what is called +light literature, if conceived in a true spirit, if they tend to give +nature a normal development, and to amuse without corrupting the +reader, ought to find with us a large public to welcome and profit by +them. What the people of any Catholic nation can do to provide for the +intellectual and aesthetic wants of a Catholic people, we Catholics in +the United States can do. If we are disposed to set ourselves +earnestly about it with the feeling that it is a matter of conscience. + +And we must do it, if we mean to preserve our youth to the church, and +have them grow up with a robust faith, and strong and masculine +virtues, to keep them clear from the humanitarian sentimentality which +marks the {473} age and the country. Universal education, whether a +good or an evil, is the passion of modern society, and must be +accepted. Indeed, we are doing our best to educate all our children, +and the great mass of them are destined to grow up readers, and will +have reading of some sort. Education will prove no blessing to them, +however carefully or religiously trained while at school, if as soon +as they leave the school, they seek their mental nutriment in the +poisonous literature now so rife. No base companions or vicious +company could do so much to corrupt as the sensation novels, the +humanitarian, rationalistic, and immoral books, magazines, and +journals, which, as thick as the frogs of Egypt, now infest the +country. Our children and youth leave school at the most critical age, +and a single popular novel, or a single sophistical essay, may undo +the work of years of pious training in our colleges and conventual +schools. Parents have more to apprehend for their children when they +have finished their school terms than ever before, and it is precisely +when they have left school, when they come home and go out into +society, that the greatest dangers and temptations assail them. From +their leaving school to their settlement in life is the period for +which they most need ample intellectual and moral provision in +literature, and it is precisely for this period that little or no such +provision is made. + +Hence the urgency of the appeal to Catholic consciences first to avoid +as much as possible the pernicious literature of the age, and second +to create and provide to the utmost of our ability, good and wholesome +literature for the mass of our people, such a literature as only they +who live in the communion with the saints, drink in the lessons of +divine wisdom, and feast their souls on celestial beauty, can +produce--a secular literature indeed, but a literature that embodies +all that is pure, free, beautiful and charming in nature, and is +informed with the spirit of Catholic love and truth--a robust and +manly literature, that cherishes all God's works, loves all things, +gentle and pure, noble and elevated, strong and enduring, and is not +ashamed to draw inspiration from the cross of Christ. It will require +much labor, many painful sacrifices to work our way up from the depths +to which we have descended, and our progress will be slow and for a +long time hardly perceptible, but Catholic faith, Catholic love, +Catholic conscience, has once succeeded when things were more +desperate, transformed the world, and can do so again. Nothing is +impossible to it. It is your faith that overcomes the world. Leo X. +said when the press was first made known, "The art of printing was +invented for the glory of God, for the propagation of our holy faith, +and the advancement of knowledge." [Footnote 82] + + [Footnote 82: Decree of Leo X. Session 10 of the Council of + Latern.] + +------ + +{474} + + +Translated from the French. + +EUGÉNIE DE GUÉRIN'S LETTERS FROM PARIS. + + +In the following paper we propose to fill as far as possible the +hiatus which occurs between the seventh and eighth books of Mlle. de +Guérin's journal, giving such details from her letters as will satisfy +the curiosity that many of her readers must have felt concerning the +visit she made to Paris at the time of her brother's wedding. + +In a letter to M. Paul Juemper, dated March 15, 1838, Guérin describes +his fiancée, with more accuracy perhaps than ardor, and yet there can +be no doubt that the marriage was one of love and congeniality. In the +latter part of his life Maurice appears to have concealed his deepest +emotions as successfully as he had revealed them in earlier years. + +"I find myself on my return better in health, and full of hope for the +future. What does that mean? What novelty is this? Nothing but the +most common event in the world, one which takes place every day in +every country--namely marriage, here, in Paris, to a child who was +born for me, eighteen years ago, six thousand leagues from Paris, in +Batavia! She is named Caroline de Gervain, has great blue eyes that +light up her delicate face, a very slender figure, a foot of oriental +minuteness--in short (without any lover-like vanity), an exquisite and +refined _ensemble_, that will suit you very well. Her fortune is in +Indian trade: not large now, but with every prospect of development. +The contracts are drawn up and everything is in order; we are only +awaiting the arrival of some documents from Calcutta, indispensable to +the celebration of a marriage, to tie the last knot. If you leave in +May, you will be here in time to stand by the death-bed of my +bachelorhood, and to see me cross the Rubicon." + +Mlle. de Gervain lived with her aunt, Mlle. Martin-Laforêt, in a +_pavillion_ in the Rue Cherche-Midi, and it is from this charming +Indian house that Eugénie's first Parisian letter is dated. + + + + TO M. DE GUÉRIN. + + Paris, Oct. 8, 1838. + + Oh! how I slept in the little pink bed beside Caroline! I wished to + write to you, dear papa, before going to bed, but they would not let + me, and they said too that the mail would not go out before this + morning, so that you would get the letter no sooner. I should have + written to you at each relay if it had been possible, for I said to + myself: "Now papa and Euphrasie, Mimi and Eran, are thinking of the + traveller." How I thought of you all! you followed me the whole way. + At last I am here, out of the way of dust, diligences and the + annoyances of travelling, and welcomed and cosseted enough to + compensate a thousand times over for the four long days of fatigue. + I should like to tell you everything, but there are so many, many + things;--how I left you, and bowled away towards Paris, and met them + all and fell into a dozen arms. Why weren't you on the Place Notre + Dame des Victoires when, just as I was driving off in a carriage + with Charles, I saw Maurice and Caro and Aunt running and calling + me, and kissing me, one through one window and another through the + other? Oh! it was so nice! + + No one ever entered Paris more pleasantly. We went as fast as we + could to Rue du Cherche-Midi, talking, laughing and questioning. + "How is papa? and his leg? is he as well as he was last year?" + Maurice, poor fellow, cried as he looked at me, and talked of you + all, Mimi, Eran, everybody, they all love you and ask after you. + When I came down stairs, I distributed your letters, and then came + breakfast, which was very welcome to me. Half through breakfast, + Auguste entered, a little surprised that I had arrived so early, and + full of kind inquiries for you all . . . + +{475} + + I thought I should reach Paris ground to powder, and here I am as + fresh as if I had just stepped out of a bandbox. The dust was + suffocating during the thirty leagues of that tiresome Sologne, and + the rumbling was like thunder on the paved road from Orleans to + Paris. It was impossible to sleep that night, but during the others + I took naps, and even slept several hours--but oh! the difference of + sleeping in a rose-colored bed, and in a diligence, tossed and + jerked about! It was dreadful in the Sologne, where we went at a + snail's pace, but fortunately it did not rain--then the passengers + have to get out sometimes and push the wheels. + + After breakfast I went to mass at St. Sulpice, and then to the + Tuileries when the king was absent. It was very grand and regal; the + throne is superb, and with "my mind's eye" I saw Louis XIV. and + Napoleon. There were a great many visitors, English people, and some + brothers from the Christian schools. A friend of Maurice's had got + us entrance tickets for yesterday, and as I don't often have a + chance to see palaces, I was glad to get the opportunity. + + Good-by, dear papa; to-day I say only two words of greeting. Maurice + embraces you all as he embraced me yesterday. This is for Mimi and + Eran. I send much love to Euphrasie from myself and from Maurice, + who is delighted to know she is at Le Cayla. All sorts of kind + messages to the parsonage and above all to the gimblette + maker,--they were very welcome and every one liked them. They asked + me if Augustine had grown tall and if she was mischievous, and I + said yes and no;--yes for the height, you understand,--she is all + virtue since her first communion. + + M. Angler came to bid me welcome, and we are already acquainted; he + looks good and is good. M. d'A. is coming this evening. I must leave + you, dear papa. Keep well,--take care of yourself; and don't be + uneasy you your traveller, who has but one trial, that she cannot + see you, and knows you are two hundred leagues away. Two hundred + leagues! but my thoughts ran every instant to Le Cayla. We are in + such a quiet place that I think myself in the country, and I slept + without waking once until six o'clock. Tell Jeanne-Marie and Miou + that everyone asks after them. My compliments to the whole household + and to all who are interested in me. + +But this charming picture had its _wrong side_, only revealed by +Eugénie to Mlle. Louise de Bayne, and to the cousin with whom she +lived during part of her stay at Paris, Professor Auguste Raynaud. +There was a worm at the heart of the bud, and she knew too well that +it must wither without blooming. At the very meeting in the Place +Notre Dame des Victoires, which she described so gaily in the letter +to Le Cayla, the sight of Maurice's pallor aroused her anxiety, an +anxiety that increased daily and marred the pleasure to which she had +looked forward for months with ardent longing. "At the time of his +marriage," says M. Barbey d'Aurevilly, an intimate friend of both +brother and sister, "Maurice was already attacked with the disease of +which he died a short time after. He already felt its first +sufferings, its first illusions and early symptoms, which made his +style of beauty more than ever touching; for among imaginary heads he +had that beauty which we may attribute to the last of the +Abencerrages. Now what others did not see in the joy and excitement of +that day, she saw, with those sad, prophetic eyes that see everything +when they love!" + + "I want for nothing, my friend," she wrote to Louise de Bayne; "they + love me and treat me most cordially at my future sister-in-law's, + and here my kind cousin and his wife vie with each other in friendly + attention. My sister-in-law gets my dresses, gives me a pink bed, + and a jewel of an oratory next my room, where one would pray for + mere pleasure. Oh! there is enough to make me happy, and yet I am + beginning to weary of it, and to say that happiness is nowhere. + Write to me; tell me what you are doing in the mountains. I am + waiting impatiently for news from Le Cayla. I long to hear about + them all, and to see them in thought. Write to Marie sometime, it + will please her, and papa too, who loves you, you know, but do not + speak of Maurice's health, for I say nothing to them on the subject, + thinking it useless to alarm them when the trouble may pass off." + +{476} + +This was the one uneasiness that disturbed her enjoyment in Paris, +"the drop of wormwood with which God wets the lips of his elect, that +they be robust in virtue and suffering," as d'Aurevilly said. + + + TO MME. DE MAISTRE. + Oct. 23. + + I have seen many churches, new and old, and I prefer the old. Notre + Dame, Saint Eustache, Saint Roch, and others whose names I forget, + please me more than the Madeline with its pagan form, without belfry + or confessionals, expressive of an unbelieving age; and Notre Dame + de Lorette, pretty as a boudoir. I like churches that make one think + of God, with _vaulted roofs leading to contemplation_, where one + neither sees nor hears people. I am perfectly contented in + l'Abbaye-aux-Bois, a simple little church that reminds me of the one + at Andillac. I go there because it is in our parish, and then, too, + I've found an excellent priest there, gentle, devout, and + enlightened, a disciple of M. Dupanloup. I should have liked to go + to him, but they told me that he lived at a distance, and I must + have everything within my reach, for I am still like a bird just let + out of a cage, hardly daring to stir; I should have lost myself a + hundred times in one quarter if I had not always had a companion. + However, I have scoured Paris thoroughly in every direction; first + mounting the towers of Notre Dame, whence the eye reaches over the + immense city and takes in its general plan, after which they took me + to the Invalides, the Louvre, and the Bois de Boulogne. The dome of + the Invalides, Notre Dame, and the picture galleries, struck me + most. You ask for my impressions of Paris--it is all admirable, but + nothing astonishes me. At every step the eye and mind are arrested, + but in the country, too, I paused over flowers, grass, and wonderful + little creatures. Every place has its wonders--here those of man, + there those of God, which are very beautiful, and will not pass + away. Kings may see their palaces decay, but the ants will always + have their dwelling places. Having made these reflections I will + leave you, and work on a dress. . . . + + + TO MLLE. LOUISE DE BAYNE. + All Saints' Day, 1838. + + . . . . I do not send you news. I ought to write to you of what goes + on within and around me, that you might know my life, and it would be + charming to write so, but time flies like a bird and carries me off + on its wings. In the morning: church, breakfast, a little work; in + the afternoon: a walk or drive, dinner at five o'clock, + conversation, music--the day is gone, and nine and ten o'clock come + to make us wonder where it went. We go to bed at ten, just like good + country folk. In that and many other things I follow my usual + habits, and live in Paris as if I were not there. Good by, the bell + is ringing. + + Seven o'clock. Here I am, pen in hand, sitting by the fire, with the + piano sounding, people reading, Pitt (our Criquet) asleep, and + memories of you mingling with all these things in this Paris + _salon_. . . . It is not apropos, but I take my recollections of + things as they come, and I must not fail to tell you what pleasure + you gave me at the Spanish museum of painting where I met you. It + was you, Louise: a head full of life, oval face, arch expression, + and your eyes looking at me, your cheeks that I longed to kiss. I + was so charmed with the likeness that I passed by again to see my + dear Spanish maiden. Certainly there must be something Spanish about + you, for I see you in St. Theresa, and in this noble and beautiful + unknown. + + The museum amused, or rather interested me extremely, for one does + not get amusement from beautiful things, or among wonderful works + with ascetic faces such as compose this museum of painting. And what + shall I tell you of the mummies, the thousand fantastic and + grotesque Egyptian gods--cats and crocodiles--a paradise of idolatry + that no one would care to enter? I looked long at some cloth four or + five thousand years old, and at a piece of muslin and a little skein + of thread, all framed under glass--how many ages have they been in + existence? I should never end if I were learned and could describe + these curiosities and antiquities by the thousand--Etruscan vases, + exquisite in form and color, that look as if they were made + yesterday. The ancients certainly possessed the secret of eternal + works. + + This is my life, seeing and admiring, and then entering into myself, + or going in search of those I love to tell them all that I see and + feel. If I could I would write to you forever, which means very + often, and what should I not scribble? what do I not scribble? Know + that I am writing in the midst of musicians, under Maurice's eye as + he sits laughing over my journal, and adds for its embellishment the + expression of his homage to the ladies of Rayssac. It was he who + noticed that picture first and pointed it out to me. He knows what + gives me pleasure and leads me to it. + +{477} + + We always go out together when the weather is good, sometimes to the + Tuileries, sometimes to the Luxembourg; but I like the Tuileries + best with its pretty things-sculpture, flowers, children playing + about, swans in a basin, and looking down on it all the royal + château illuminated by the setting sun. I begin to know my way about + a little in the streets and gardens, and I look upon it as a great + triumph to be able to go to l'Abbaye-aux-Bois alone, which is a + great convenience, for I can go to week-day mass without troubling + any one, which was a restraint upon me. One can go about here as + safely as in Albi or Gaillac. They had frightened me about the + dangers of Paris, when there are really none except for imprudent or + crazy people. No one speaks to any person going about his own + business. In the evening it is different. I would not go out alone + then for the world, especially on the boulevards, where they say the + devil leads the dance. We pass through sometimes returning from Mme. + Raynaud's, and nothing has ever struck me except the illumination of + gas in the cafés, running along the streets like a thread of fire. I + annoyed a Parisian by saying that the glow-worms in our hedges were + quite as effective. "Mademoiselle, what an insult to Paris!" It made + us laugh, as one does laugh sometimes at nothing. Now I am going to + the concert; I want to know what music is, and tell you my + impressions. + +------ + + TO M. DE GUÉRIN. + PARIS, NOV. 6, 1838. + + Never was a day more charming, for it began with Grembert's arrival, + and it ends with a letter to you, my dear papa. . . The wedding day + is fixed for the 15th. Last Sunday the bans were published for the + last time at l'Abbaye-aux-Bois. . . + + You ask if I have everything I need, and if I am satisfied in every + respect with my Parisian life. Yes, dear papa, in every sense, and + especially for this reason, that I admire the care and assistance + that Providence bestows upon us in all places. I have never been + struck so forcibly with the abundant aids to piety anywhere as in + Paris; every day there are sermons in one place or another, + associations and benedictions. If the devil reigns in Paris, perhaps + God is served there better than in other places. Good and evil find + here their utmost expression; it is Babylon and Jerusalem in one. In + the midst of all this, I lead my customary life, and find in my + Abbey everything I need. M. Legrand is a friend of l'Abbé de + Rivières, holy and zealous like him, and full of kindness. He + provides me with books and with kind and gentle advice; it will not + be his fault if I don't improve very much. One can save one's soul + anywhere. . . + + Our quarter of Cherche Midi is charming. M. d'Aurevilly calls it + _Trouve Bonheur_, an appropriate name so far Maurice is concerned. + He will be happy, as happy as he can be--at least everything looks + hopeful. He could not be allied to better souls. Caroline is an + angel; her pure, tender soul is full of piety. You will be pleased + with her, and with Maurice too, who only does things slowly, as his + fashion is; but there is much to thank God for in such conduct, + which is very rare among young Parisians. M. Buquet speaks very + highly of him; he will bless the marriage, much to our + gratification. The great day, which is to open a new life to our + Maurice, engrosses us in a thousand ways. He is the most peaceful + person concerned, and regards his future and all these affairs with + admirable _sang-froid_. M. Buquet says the fellowship is worth + nothing to him, and that he will find something else for him; so you + see he is established in the good nest Providence has provided for + him, without troubling yon. + + Have I told you everything, and made you see thoughts, words, and + actions, just as you like? Eran is reading the paper and warming + himself. Everybody sends you kisses, and Caro her filial affection. + Yon would do well not to go to Rayseac when it is cold or rainy. + Advice given, and bulletin finished, I throw my arms around your + neck, and pass on to Mimi. + +---- + + You dear Mimi, I thank you more than I can express for your night + letter, written in defiance of sleep. Poor Mimi, plagued and busy, + while I play the princess in Paris! This thought comes to me often + in the day, disturbing my repose a little, my _gentle quietude_. I + say to myself that our time is differently employed, but I help you + in my heart. We are as well as possible here and at Auguste's. Don't + let Euphrasie leave you, I beg and beseech; you would be too lonely + without her gaiety and kindness. I put both my arms around her to + keep her. M. le Curé is very good to come and amuse papa: it is an + act of friendly charity that I shall not forget Remember me to him + and to Mariette. Also to Augustine, Jeanne-Marie, the shepherd, + Paul, and Gilles, and thank them all for their compliments. Good-by, + with a kiss from Maurice, Caro and myself. + +---- + + TO THE SAME. + Nov. 7, 1838 + + I shall write to you every day until I receive letters from home, + that you may see that I do not forget you, dear inhabitants of Le + Cayla. The whirlwind of Paris will not blow me away yet awhile. That + remark of papa's made me laugh, and showed me that he does not know + me yet. I am very sure that you, Mimi, had no such idea. I have told + you that I lead the same life here as at Le Cayla, and with this + {478} advantage, that there is nothing to worry me, for I have a + church within reach, and entire liberty. We are all busy with + spiritual matters now--our ladies with theirs and I with mine. + Maurice is consigned to Sunday, M. Buquet's only free day. All is + going on well in this respect, and Caroline is so edifying that she + seems to be following in Mimi's footsteps. In this too I admire the + workings of Providence in using this marriage as an occasion of + salvation. + + It is beautiful to-day, one of those fine days so rare in Paris, + where the sky is almost always pale and cloudless. This struck me at + first, but now I am used to it as to other things that I see. I am + used to carriages, and am no more afraid of there running over me + than of Gilles' cart. We shall go in the sunshine to see Mme. + Lamarlière Auguste, and I don't know whom besides, for there is no + end to visits when one is once in train. In going to see our cousin + at M. Laville's, Erembert and Maurice met M. Lastic, who is living + in Paris. It is astonishing how many acquaintances one meets in the + great world where one thinks one's self unknown. + + Indians visit here, Indians without end. A friend of Maurice's, H. + Le Fèvre came to spend the evening; a nice little young man, who + looks very gentle and refined. He asked me when I was going to see + my good friend De Maistre; he is a friend of M. Adrien's, who is at + present wandering amid the snows of Norway, so that he can not come + to the wedding. We shall muster pretty strong, though only the + _indispensable_ will be there. + + . . . 13th. We have just come from the Pantheon, a church passed + over from God to the Devil, from St. Genevieve to the heroes of + July, and to Voltaire and Rousseau. It is an admirable work of art, + however; the interior, the dome, and the crypts, gloomy, secluded, + buried beneath vaults and only lighted here and there with lamps, + are quite effective. The imagination would easily take fright in + this darkness of death, or of glory if you choose, for all the dead + are illustrious there, as in the Elysium of which Voltaire and + Rousseau are the gods. In the depths of the crypt stands the statue + of Voltaire, smiling apparently at the glory of his tomb, which is + decorated with magnificent emblems. That of Rousseau is more + severe--a sarcophagus, from which a hand is thrust forth, bearing a + torch, "that illumines and ever shall illumine the world," according + to our guide, who was a cicerone as brilliant as the lantern he + carried. The summit of the dome is at a prodigious elevation, twice + the height of the steeple of Ste. Cécile. Paris is seen beautifully + from there, but the picture needed sunlight and there was none. + Good-by; to-morrow at this time Maurice will be married at the + Mayoralty, and day after tomorrow in church. + + 16th. Yesterday was the grand and solemn day, the beautiful day for + Maurice, Caro and all of us. We only needed you, papa, and Mimi, to + complete our happiness, as we all said with sincere regret. You + would have been delighted to see this family festival, the most + beautiful I ever witnessed. Everything went smoothly, the weather + was soft and pleasant, and God seemed to smile on the marriage, so + suitably it was conducted, and in such a Christian manner. How + pretty Caro was in her bridal dress, and wreath of orange flowers + under her veil à la Bengali! and Maurice looked well too. H. Angler + was so charmed that he wanted to paint them in church, kneeling on + their crimson Prie-Dieu. The church displayed all its grandeur, and + the organ playing during mass was very good. M. Buquet blessed the + marriage, and said mass, assisted by M. Legrand. Many of the _beau + monde_ were present, and a dozen carriages stood before the church + doors. Soeur d'Yversen was to be there. M. Laurichais, confessor to + our ladies, in short all the friends and relations united their + prayers and good wishes during the ceremony. I send M. Buquet's + discourse, which every one thought perfect. Why can't I add to it + his kindly voice, and the look of joy and emotion with which he + spoke to Maurice, whom he loves sincerely. + + You will like to know, papa, how everything passed off on the + memorable day, and I like very much to describe it, for it seems as + if you would be able to share our pleasure, and see your children in + church, at dinner and at the evening party. The dinner was charming, + like every thing else, each course served elegantly; fish, meats, + dessert and wines. The turkey, dressed with our truffles was king of + the feast. We drank freely and merrily of Madeira and Constance, and + it all seemed like the marriage of Cana. I sat between Auguste and + M. d'Aurevilly, very charming neighbors, and we talked and laughed + very pleasantly, though Auguste scolded me for having no poetry, + which he felt disposed to read, and we had never thought of writing; + there's something bettor for Caro, which comes from the heart and + will be unfailingly hers every day. How modest she was in church, + and how pretty she looked in the evening! She was quite the queen of + the occasion. A dozen ladies came, all very elegant, and I don't + know how many men, friends of Maurice's. They were very gracious, + and asked me to dance; yes--_dance!_ _M. le Curé_ had better take + holy water and exorcise me. I danced with my groomsman, Charles; it + was _de rigueur_, and I could not decline without being conspicuous, + and playing {479} the not very amusing part of wall-flower. Auguste + performed his paternal duties admirably. He begs me to say a word of + commendation for him, and I might well say a hundred in praise of + his friendship and devotion to us. + +The friend referred to in the following letter, and with whom Mlle. de +Guérin left Paris early in the December of 1838, was the _Marie_ to +whom she wrote the two delightful letters, introduced into the sixth +and seventh books of her journal. Mme. la Baronne Henriette Marie de +Maistre was the sister of M. Adrien de Sainte Marie, a friend of +Guérin's, and her intimacy with Eugénie had its first foundation in +ceremonious notes written about Maurice when he was ill with a fever +at Le Cayla in 1837. Mme. de Maistre soon became endeared to Eugénie +by her fascinating powers of attraction, and also by her mental and +physical sufferings, for sufferers belonged to the "dove of Le Cayla" +by natural right. + + + TO MLLE. LOUISE DE BAYNE. + Paris, Dec. 1, 1838. + + M. de Frigeville is the most gracious, amiable, and obliging of men. + At length I found out his address, and sent my parcel with a little + note, which he answered at once, and followed in person the next + day. The good man had taken infinite pains to find me and ended by + applying to the police--a last resource that amused us a good deal. + We cannot profit by the acquaintance even now, or by his offers of + politeness "for anything in his power," as he expressed himself to + our ladies, for I was out when he came,--the fates are against me. + Mlle. Laforêt thought him very agreeable and exquisitely courteous. + I send this little notice of him for you, dear friend, and make use + of the chance to write to you up to the last moment. + + I am going to the country, to another Rayssac, for Les Coynes is + among the mountains;--shall I find another Louise there? She is a + little like you, I think; but, my friend, you will always be my + friend. I will write to you from there if you like. Whom and what + shall I see? Everything looks very attractive, and yet I go forward + with timidity to meet these unknown and known. Pity my wandering + life, dragged from place to place;--no, do not pity me, for it is + the will of heaven, and all we have to do is to follow the hand that + leads us without reasoning: that alone sustains and consoles us, + teaching us to turn all things to account for heaven. I am less + attracted to the world than ever; there is more calmness and + happiness within Sister Clementine's door than in any place in the + world. I went to see her yesterday, but she was to be in retreat + until Monday, much to my regret, for I love to see and listen to + these good religious, these souls set apart from the world. . . I + should like to send you something charming and worthy of Paris, but + charming things are rare everywhere; so rare that I have none to + spare today. However, I did see the outside of Versailles;--the king + was expected, so they shut the gates on us. Did I tell you of this, + and of our _royal_ wrath? perhaps I did in my last letter. + + I should have described the concert to you this morning, if Maurice, + who was to have been my escort, had not been taken ill just as we + were going;--pain instead of pleasure, no uncommon change in life. + His little wife, quite crimson with emotion, began to nurse him and + make much of him, and all grew calm under her gentle influence. I + hope Maurice will be happy with her,--I do not know any woman like + her in disposition, heart, or face. She is a foreigner, and I study + her, that I may adapt myself to her, and enter into her feelings if + she cannot into mine. There must be mutual concessions of taste and + ideas among us all, to ensure affection and family peace:--that you + see everywhere, but we shall have no difficulty with one so amiable + and generous. There is not a day when I do not receive proofs of + affection from my charming foreign sister. They always speak of her + to us as the Indian. Mme. Lamarlière thought her very + charming;--pretty and well dressed. Today a bulletin of the visit + and her _toilette_ is at Gaillac, and I am sure that it is all over + town by this time that the Indian wore a dress of _soie antique_, a + black satin shawl, trimmed with blond and lined with blue, a lace + collar, and a black velvet hat with ostrich plume, "overwhelming + heaven and earth," as Mme. Lamarlière says + + Good-by, my dear. I kiss you and say love me, think of me, believe + me, write to me, talk of me. Love to you all. + + One word more; I like to talk to you best because we seem to + understand each other. I will say good-by soon, for two o'clock is + striking and I have an appointment in my chapel at + l'Abbaye-aux-Bois, for I wish to put my conscience in order before + going away. I do not know to whom I shall have recourse in the + country, so far from any church. Fortunately, we {480} are to spend + Christmas at Nevers, and I shall try to grow calm, for I am not so + today. I tell you this because you are alone with Pulchérié, whom + nothing surprises. Pray in the chapel at Rayssac for your poor + friend, the Parisian, who will repay you as well as she can. + Good-by, good-by; till when? . . . + + TO MLLE. DE BAYNE. + CHRISTMAS EVE, NEVERS, 1888. + + I have only time to date my letter, dear friend, for the bells are + calling me to midnight mass. I listen to their clashing peals, and + think of the pretty little tinkle of the Andillac bell. Who would + have said last year that I should be so far away? but so God leads + us to things unforeseen. I'm going to the cathedral to pray for all + whom I love, and so for you. + + + Two days since those lines--two days of festival, prayer, offices, + and letters written and received, without preventing me from being + with you, my dearest. Our hearts can always be together before God, + and we cannot meet in a better way or in any other way for a long + time. I shall not be at Le Cayla before the fine weather comes, and + we can have flowers and sunshine to show our Indian; far enough we + are from that season, as I see by the white earth and pallid sky, + all snowy and cold. + + How you would love my friend, dear Louise! She is so good, so + charming and attractive, and of such a high order of mind, that I + keep congratulating myself upon possessing her friendship and + affection. . . + + Her father takes the best of care of me, and even comes to my room + to see if I have a good fire when I say my prayers. He is afraid + this cold climate may hurt me, and said laughing one very cold day, + "The southern flower will be frozen." Good, holy man! I love him + very much, and he makes me think of your father in his mode of + thought and culture. He has read everything, and he writes too; some + selections from his works, that he was kind enough to read to me, + might have been written by a Benedictine. He knows Carmelites, + Trappists, charitable orders, every one in short who is learned or + religious. Charles the Tenth loved him and saw him often; if he had + only listened to him! + + Travellers from Goritz come here, among others a M. de Ch----, who + comes and goes for the exiles, from St. Petersburg to Vienna and + sometimes to Spain, from one court to another. He charms us with + stories of his adventures, and I never saw a man more agreeable, + handsome, witty or cultivated. He is a learned geologist, and + collects specimens, goes down into volcanoes and domesticates + himself among ruins. + + He lived a week in Sallust's room at Pompeii, drove about the + streets in his carriage, entered the theatre, made excavations under + the very eyes of the Duchess of Berry, and saw a thief whom the lava + had caught while he was stealing a purse, at which we laughed, and + remarked that iniquity is sooner or later discovered. I have seen + his cabinets of natural history, mineralogy, and antiques, and also + the borders of Cicero's dining-hall exquisitely painted with a + delicacy inimitable or unimitated. To all these gifts, M. Ch---- + unites those of a good Christian; he turns all his studies and + discoveries to advantage for the faith, and proves that science and + faith, geology and Genesis, are of one accord. If you think me very + learned, remember that I've seen Paris, and that Paris sharpens + one's wits; however, most of this I have acquired in the + neighborhood of Les Coques. + + + TO MLLE. MARIE DE GUÉRIN. + NEVERS JANUARY 12. + + We return to Paris early in January, and shall be introduced to the + grandeurs of the world. Hitherto I have known only amiable, pretty + simplicity; now come baronesses, duchesses, princesses, and as many + clever people as I choose. It will amuse me like a picture-gallery, + for the heart finds no place among such scenes, far less the soul. + God and the world do not agree. Ah me! how little they think of + heaven amid all this rush and sparkle! So says my friend, who knows + the world and is detached from it. + + M. d'Aurevilly, in his unpublished reminiscences of Mlle. de Guérin, + gives a graphic description of her as she appeared in the Parisian + world, where no doubt she was subjected to a close scrutiny as the + sister of the elegant and gifted Maurice de Guérin. + + "We can affirm," he says, "that never did creature of worldly + attractions appear to us so sweet and lovely as this charming fawn, + reared like St. Genevieve among _pastours_. . . . + + "Drawn from her country home, brought in state like a princess into + the intimidating light of lustres, she came without embarrassment or + awkwardness, with a chaste, patrician self-possession, that showed + in spite of fortune's wrongs for what class in society she was born. + Without ever having been there, she was _Faubourg Saint Germain_, + Byron tells us in his {481} memoir that he witnessed the + introduction of Miss Edgeworth into London society, and that she + made him think of Jeanie Deans. But the country girl of La Cayla was + the descendant of the fairest falcon-bearers who appear in the + mediaeval chronicles, gloved with buckskin, corseleted with ermine, + and wearing a train. . . . This was what we admired, this was what + impressed the world, astonished at her who did not wonder at them. + If, in speaking of such a woman, I dared to use an expression + debased to theatrical uses in our times, I should say that she had a + great success wherever she went. Women whispered together about her + genius for expression and the feeling revealed in her letters; but + no one offered her the prying importunities so coarsely mistaken + sometimes for homage. They did not call her interesting or amusing, + as the world says, patting a proud cheek with its awkward, familiar + hand. They respected her. The world treated her as a woman of the + world, for that is what it holds in highest esteem; but she knew + that she was not so. She knew that there was a second meaning in the + world's language that escaped her, as she said once _with her + accent_ in a letter, but what observer would have guessed it in + seeing her? Excepting now and then a charming swallow-glance, + piercing the tapestry and seeking the wall at Le Cayla covered with + honeysuckle and wall-wort, who would have doubted that this tranquil + maiden was a woman of the world, capable of pleasing it, and of + ruling it too, had she thought it worth her while? + +Mlle. de Guérin had one of those imaginations that are easy to live +with. She did not offend common people, those sensitive, coarse souls +to whom the least distinction causes terrible pain, and who push their +way everywhere, even in the country. They handled with their rough +touch this divine opal with its vaporous shades, as indifferently as +the mock ivory counters on their card-tables. Though she did not +resemble a sphinx, this lovely maiden with her lingering smile, there +was perhaps in her placid regularity the immovability of the sphinx, +and immobility suits all things. It lends a mystery to nature, and +takes from human beings the puppet-like gesticulation that ever mars +the lofty _Sidera Vultum_. + + + +And now we will return to Eugénie's letters, dated once more from +Paris, where she was staying with the Baroness de Maistre, and seeing +the world in a more brilliant light than in her visits to the Rue +Cherche-Midi, and at the house of "Auguste and Félicité;" but it never +dazzled her eyes, no matter how brightly it shone and glittered. + + + TO M. DE GUÉRIN. + Paris, Jan. 20, 1839. + + You have had a line from me almost every day, dear papa, but I will + write more at length to-day. + + The good General called here as soon as he heard of my return from + Nevers; but to tell the truth his visits are not entirely for me, + for he finds Caroline so pleasing, that I think our Indian has her + full share of the kind old gentleman's friendship. One day he came + when she was dressing a doll in Indian fashion, for the little De + Maistres, and he was so delighted that he insisted on working + himself, and wished to stay till the end of the toilette, which was + unluckily interrupted by visitors. The Marquis left us, but Caro + wrote to him the next day that the Indian lady was ready, and would + be charmed to be presented to him, so the good man came, passed the + afternoon with us, and offered to take us today to M. Aquado's + museum of painting. We shall go, for it is said to be very + beautiful, and afterward we are to see the interior of the Palais + Royal. There is nothing we may not expect of the good Marquis, and + we owe a great deal of pleasure to Palchérie, who has already + received my acknowledgments. I send a package to Rayssac with this + one. + + We have no want of friends in Paris, dear papa. How can I say enough + of the perfect family I have just left, who are untiring in their + friendships and kindness! I am engaged, to go to-morrow, Saturday, + to a large and elegant party at M. de Neuville's, [Footnote 83] but + I shall give up my place to Eran, who will go with Mme. de Maistre. + There will be a sort of reunion of beauties of every + country--English, German, {482} Spanish, and the lovely ambassadress + from the United States. + + [Footnote 83: Ex-Minister to Charles X.] + + 'Twill be a pretty sight for anyone who likes society, but I refuse + as often as possible. However, I cannot help going to M. de + Neuville's, for he has been so gracious to Erembert. I have seen the + Baroness de Vaux, Henry Vth's Joan of Arc, who, in 1830, asked an + officer of the Royal Guard to rout Philip, herself and her sword at + their head. She is a man-woman in figure and energy. Now she is + devoted to God, visiting prisons and exhorting those who are + condemned to death. With all this she has a charming simplicity. I + am to make other acquaintances, whom I shall describe to you. All + this does not prevent my thinking of Le Cayla very, very often, and + longing impatiently for the month of May,--I shall go with Erembert + at the beginning of Lent if I can. Mmes. de Maistre and de St. Marie + beg to be remembered to you. "They think Caro charming, as + fascinating as possible," said Henriette, and indeed she was radiant + the evening they saw her. She is prettier than before her marriage, + and she is an excellent little wife, as devoted to Maurice as he is + to her. They are happy, and Maurice is most exemplary; a hundred + times better than last year, as he says himself. His confidence in + me is unchanged and we talk very intimately;--he longs to see you, + and thinks very often of Mimi;--we shall all be glad to meet at Le + Cayla. Saturday I shall think of you, Mimi, at St. Thomas Aquinas', + where we are to hear l'Abbé Dupanloup, [Footnote 84] who is also + to give the Lenten instructions. There is no lack of teaching in + Paris, but the well taught are very rare;--the more one sees of the + world, the more glaring appears the ignorance of essential things. + Soeur d'Yversen comes now and then to see us; she has mentioned to + me Mme. L----, who would like to know us, but we know, so many + people already, that I've lost all desire for new acquaintances. Our + whole time slips away in dressing and receiving or making visits, so + that one can hardly read or work at all. The Lastics have been here, + Mme. Resaudière, the Barrys, an English family who like Maurice very + much, and an infinity of other people whom I do not know even by + name. Then the De Maistres and the acquaintances they make for + me;--you see I have more than I need. + + [Footnote 84: Now Mgr. Dupanloup, Bishop of Orleans.] + + Oh! how I shall rest at Le Cayla. I shall feel the contrast so much, + passing from the whirlwind of Paris to the calm of the fields, from + the rolling of carriages to the little rumble of carts, from Paris + noises to the cackling of our hens;--it all seems to me very + charming without thinking of you and Mimi;--how I long to kiss you! + They treat me very well here, and I am spoiled by everybody. My + health is good, so don't be anxious about me. How does Winter treat + you in the new parlor? Better no doubt than it did in the hall. "Is + Wolff banished from the parquet?" Maurice asks. Passing from parlor + to kitchen, tell me how all our people are. I'm sorry about the + partridge. + + May 9th.--We heard M. de Ravignan Sunday at Notre Dame. It is + curious to see this assemblage of men, a sea of people overflowing + the immense cathedral to listen to one voice--but such a voice! From + time to time some stricken soul, some young man in doubt or + conviction, seeks the orator as a confessor. Then too they rush to + see plays, and Mlle. Rachel draws at least as great a crowd to the + theatre as M. de R. does to the cathedral. I'm not surprised at the + enthusiasm of the Castrais about this young marvel. She is ugly, + though, at least so I am told by those who have seen her off the + stage. Alas! the profanity of my words in Lent! + + TO H. DE GUÉRIN. + + Paris; March and April, 1839. + This bit of a letter, will tell you, dear papa, that I am with my + poor invalid friend, waiting for M. Dupanloup, and that catching + sight of an ink-stand, I am going on with my writing at the expense + of the sacristy. But I will put a sous in the box for my ink, and my + paper too, as I mean to steal a sheet to go with these; if we are + left alone long enough. Now and then a peaceable abbé or sacristan + passes through, glancing at us, and looking rather astonished at my + office improvised in the sacristy. But M. D.'s name protects us, and + we need only mention him to get a safe-conduct. . . . + + Never was there such a holy week--continual agitation and running + about. Andillac is better than Paris for recollection; but God is + everywhere and in all things, if we know how to find Him. Poor dear + papa, I have prayed well for you in these beautiful monuments of + Notre Dame, St. Roch, and others that we have visited. I thought of + yon in the simple little chapel of Andillac. I suppose they used the + new chapel for the tomb, or Paradise, as they call it here. + + Was there ever such a piece of scribbling as this letter--begun, + left, begun again, in so many places? Now I am at Maurice's, after + sitting five hours for my portrait, which M. Angier kindly insists + on painting for you, and for your sake, I have submitted. Dear papa, + my painted self will go with Eran, who has had his likeness taken + too, and, happier than I am. {483} is to see you and kiss you, and + talk to you of Paris, and many, many other things. + + My absence is to be prolonged more than I supposed, but how could I + refuse these good friends a request they had such a right to ask? + They will be grateful to you, I assure you. + + I shall bring you the little book of poetry that you care for so + much;--it is now in the hands of Count Xavier, which will be its + greatest glory, I have been presented to this celebrated and + charming man, who was very kind and gracious; he loves his cousin, + and under her patronage I could not but be well received. We found + him alone in his room, reading the office of Holy Week;--he must be + religious, being a worthy brother of his Brother Joseph. Thus he is + consoled for his great griefs, for the death of his three children + at eighteen or twenty years of age. + + The same evening, they took me to the great Valentino concert of + eighty musicians. I had been there once before. There is much more + to be seen here, but one might spend a thousand years in Paris, and + leave many things unseen. I value more the knowledge of persons than + of things. + + I am uneasy about your health, however well Mimi may take care of + you; be very careful of yourself. + + Good-by, dear papa, good-by, dear Mimi. + I have no time to write to you. Maurice sends to papa M. de Luzerne's + _reflections_ upon the Gospels. Good-by to all. + + I send a waistcoat to Pierril and an apron to Jeanie; to you and all + everything that can reach your hearts. Thank M. Angler for his + kindness, when you write to Maurice. My portrait must be finished at + Le Cayla, for I found it impossible to have a sitting to-day. I do + not want to leave you, and yet good-by. I will write to you from + Nevers. Erembert will be much pleased to see you again; I see + already the happy day of arrival. + + April 2d, in the evening. + +And here we must leave Eugénie. Eight days later she resumed the +journal at Nevers and wrote that wonderful eighth book, so +pathetically expressive of the pain of waiting--fit prelude of the +coming tragedy. + +------ + +From Once a Week. + + +DAY-DREAMS + + + Call them not vain and false day-dreams we see + With spirit-vision of our quicker youth; + Thoughts wiser in the world's esteem may be + Less near the truth. + + When against some hard creed of life we raise + Our single cry for what more pure we deem, + 'Tis oft the working out in later days + Of some old dream! + + Dream of a world more pure than that we find + Sad is the wak'ning, but not dull despair, + While we can feel that we may leave behind + One bright ray there. + + Let us work up then to our young ideal, + Nor weep the present nor regret the past, + Till the soul, struggling 'twixt earth's false and real, + Reach heaven at last. + +------ + +{484} + + +From The Dublin Review. + +THE CHRISTIAN SCHOOLS OF ALEXANDRIA--ORIGEN. + + +The scholar next comes to the more strictly ethical part of Origen's +teaching. The preliminary dialectics had cleared the ground, and to a +certain extent replanted it; physics made the process more easy, +pleasant, and complete; but the great end of a philosophic life was +ethics, that is, the making a man good. The making of a man good and +virtuous seems now-a-days a simple matter, as far as theory is +concerned, and so perhaps it is, if only theory and principles be +considered; though morality is an extensive science, and one that is +not mastered in an hour or a day. But in Origen's day a science of +Christian ethics did not exist. The teaching of the Scripture and the +voice of the pastors was sufficient, doubtless, for the guidance of +the faithful; but science is a different thing. Such a science is +shadowed out to us by the scholar in the record we are noticing. St. +Thomas, the great finisher of scientific Christian ethics, embraces +all virtues under two great classes, viz., the theological and the +cardinal. The whole science of morality treats only of the seven +virtues included under these two divisions. The master's teaching +comprehended, of course, faith, and hope, and charity; indeed, it +would be more correct to say that these three virtues were his whole +ultimate object; but the scholar says little of them in particular +just because of this very reason, and also because they were bound up +in that _piety_ which he mentions so often. But it is a most +interesting fact that the virtues, and the only virtues, mentioned in +the summary of Origen's moral teaching given by St. Gregory, are +precisely the four cardinal virtues, prudence, justice, fortitude, and +temperance. The classification dates, of course, from the Stoics, but +the circumstance that the framework laid down by a father in the +beginning of the third century was used and completed by another +father in the thirteenth, gives the early father an undoubted claim to +be considered the founder of Christian ethics. And here we lay our +hands on one of the earliest instances of heathen philosophy being +made to hew wood and carry water for Christian theology. The division +of virtues was a good one; all the schools pretended to teach it; but +the distinctive boast and triumph of the Christian teacher was that he +taught _true_ prudence, true justice, fortitude, and temperance, "not +such," says the scholar, "as the other philosophers teach, and +especially the moderns, who are strong and great in words; he not only +talked about the virtues, but exhorted us to practise them; and he +exhorted us by what he did far more than by what he said." And here +the scholar takes the opportunity of recording his opinion about "the +other" philosophers, now that he has had a course of Origen's +training. He first apologizes to them for hurting their feelings. He +says that, personally, he has no ill-will against them, but he plainly +tells them that things have come to such a pass, through their +conduct, that the very name of philosophy is laughed at. And he goes +on to develop what appeared to him the very essence of their faults, +viz., too much talk, and nothing but talk. Their teaching is like a +widely-extended morass; once set foot in it, and you can neither get +out nor go on, but stick fast till you perish. Or it is like a thick +forest; the traveller who once finds himself {485} in it has no chance +of ever getting back to the open fields and the light of day, but +gropes about backward and forward, first trying one path, then +another, and finding they all lead farther in, until at last, wearied +and desperate, he sits down and dwells in the forest, resolving that +the forest shall be his world, since all the world seems to be a +forest. This is, perhaps, one of the most graphic pictures ever given +of the state of mind, so artificial, so unsatisfied, and yet so +self-sufficient, brought about by a specious heathen philosophy, and +the effect of enlightened reason destitute of revelation. The scholar +cannot heighten the strength of his description by going on to compare +it, in the third place, to a labyrinth, but the comparison brings out +two striking features well worthy of notice. The first is, the +innocent and guileless look of the whole concern from the outside; +"the traveller sees the open door, and in he goes, suspecting +nothing." Once in, he sees a great deal to admire, (and this is the +second point in the labyrinth-simile;) he sees the very perfection of +art and arrangement, doors after doors, rooms within rooms, passages +leading most ingeniously and conveniently into other passages; he sees +all this art, admires the architect, and--thinks of going out. But +there is no going out for him; he is fast. All the artifice and +ingenuity he has been admiring have been expended for the express +purpose of keeping in for ever those foolish people who have been so +unwary as to come in at the open door. "For there is no labyrinth so +hard to thread," sums up the scholar, "no wood so deep and thick, no +bog so false and hopeless, as the language of some of these +philosophers." In this language we recognize another of of the +characteristic feelings of the day--the feeling of profound disgust +for the highest teachings of heathenism from the moment the soul +catches a ray of the light of the Gospel In Origen's school the +confines of the receding darkness skirted the advancing kingdom of +light, and those that sat in the darkness to-day saw it leaving them +to-morrow, and far behind them the morrow after that; and all the time +the great master had to be peering anxiously into the darkness to see +what souls were nearest the light, and to hold out his hand to win +them too into the company of those that were already sitting at his +feet. In such days as those, sharp comparisons between heathen wisdom +and the light of Christ must have been part of the atmosphere in which +the catechumens of the great school lived and breathed; there was a +reality and interest in them such as can never be again. And yet the +master was no bigot in his dealings with the Greek philosophies. "He +was the first and the only one," says his scholar, "that made me study +the philosophy of Greece." The scholar was to reject nothing, to +despise nothing, but make himself thoroughly acquainted with the whole +range of Greek philosophy and poetry; there was only one class of +writers he was to have nothing to do with, and those were the atheists +who denied God and God's providence; their books could only sully a +mind that was striving after piety. But his pupils were to attach +themselves to no school or party, as did the mob of those who +pretended to study philosophy. Under his guidance they were to take +what was true and good, and leave what was false and bad. He walked +beside them and in front of them through the labyrinth; he had studied +its windings and knew its turns; in his company, and with their eyes +on his "lofty and safe" teaching, his scholars need fear no danger. + +This brief analysis of part of St. Gregory's remarkable oration will +serve to give us some idea of Origen's method of treating his more +learned and cultivated converts, of whom we know he had a very great +many. It will also have admitted us, in some sort, into the interior +of his school, {486} and let as hear the question in debate and the +matters that were of greatest interest in that most influential centre +of Christian teaching. It does not, of course, deal directly with +theology, or with those great controversies which Origen, in a manner, +rendered possible for his pupils and successors of the next century. +The scholar, indeed, does go on now to speak of his theological +teachings; but he describes rather his manner than his matter, and +rather the salient points of characteristic gifts than the details of +his dogmatic system. As this is precisely our own object in these +notes, we need only say that St. Gregory, in the concluding pages of +his farewell discourse, sufficiently proves that the great end and +object of all philosophic teaching and intellectual discipline in the +school of his master was faith and practical piety. To teach his +hearers the great first cause was his most careful and earnest task. +His instructions about God were so full of knowledge and so carefully +prepared that the scholar is at a loss how to describe them. His +explanations of the prophets, and of Holy Scripture generally, were so +wonderful that he seemed to be the friend and interpreter of the Word. +The soul that thirsted for knowledge went away from him refreshed, and +the hard of heart and the unbelieving could not listen to him without +both understanding, and believing, and making submission to God. "It +was no otherwise than by the communication of the Holy Ghost that he +spoke thus," says his disciple, "for the prophets and the interpreters +of the prophets have necessarily the same help from above, and none +can understand a prophet unless by the same spirit wherein the prophet +spoke. This greatest of gifts and this splendid destiny he seemed to +have received from God, that he should be the interpreter of God's +words to men, that he should understand the things of God, as though +he heard them from God's own mouth, and that through him men should be +brought to listen and obey." Two little indications of what we may +call the spirit of Origen are to be found in this address of his +pupil. The first is the great value he sets upon purity as the only +means of arriving at the knowledge and communion of God. We know what +a watchword this "union with God" was among the popular philosophers +of the day. To attain to it was the end of all the Neo-Platonic +asceticism. It was Origen's great end as well; but he taught that +purity alone and the subjugation of the passions by the grace of God +will avail to lead the soul thither, and that no amount of external +refinement or abstinence from gross sin will suffice to make the soul +pure in the sight of God. The second is, his devotion to the person of +the Son, the ever-blessed Word of God. The whole oration of the +scholar takes the form of a thanksgiving to "the Master and Saviour of +our souls, the firstborn Word, the maker and ruler of all things." He +never misses an opportunity all through it of bursting into eloquent +love to that "Prince of the universe;" he cannot praise his master +without first praising him, or ascribe anything to the powers of the +earthly teacher without referring it first of all to the heavenly +Giver. He had learned this from Origen, the predecessor, unconsciously +certainly, but in will and in spirit, of another Alexandrian, the +great Athanasius. And here again error was bringing out the truth, for +unless the Gnostics and the Neo-Platonists had been at that very time +theorizing about their demiurge and their emanations, we should +probably have missed the tender devotion and repeated homage to the +eternal Word which we find in the words of Origen and his disciple. + +Theodore, or Gregory, as he had been named in baptism, had to thank +his master and to praise him, and he had, Moreover, to say how sorry +he was to leave him. He concludes his speech with the expression of +his regrets. He is afraid that all the grand teaching he has received +has been to {487} a great extent thrown away upon him. He is not yet +prudent, he is not just, he is not temperate, he has no fortitude, +alas, for his own native imbecility! But one gift the master has given +him he has made him love all these virtues with a love that knows no +bounds; and he has made him love, over and above them all, that virtue +which is alike their beginning and their consummation--the blessed +virtue of piety, the service and love of God. And now, in leaving him, +he seems to be leaving a garden full of useful trees and pleasant +fruits, full of green grass and cheering sunshine. And he thereupon +compares himself, at considerable length, to our first parents +banished from Paradise. "I am leaving the face of God and going back +to the earth from whence I came; and I shall eat earth all my days, +and till earth--an earth that will produce me nothing but thorn and +briers now that it is deprived of its good and excellent tending." He +goes on to liken himself to the prodigal son; and yet he finds himself +worse than he, for he is going away without receiving the "due portion +of substance," and leaving behind everything he loves and cares for. +Again, he seems to be one of that band of Jewish captives that hang up +their harps on the willows and wept beside the rivers of Babylon. "I +am going out from my Jerusalem," he says, "my holy city, where day and +night the holy law is being announced, where are hymns and canticles +and mystic speech; where a light brighter than the sun shines upon us +as we discuss the mysteries of God, and where our fancy brings back in +the night visions of what has occupied us in the day; I am leaving +this holy city, wherein God seems to breathe everywhere, and going +into a land of exile: there will be no singing for me; even the +mournful flute will not be my solace when my harp is hung on the +willows; but I shall be working by river-sides and making bricks; the +hymns I remember I shall not be allowed to sing; nay, it may be that +my very memory will play me false, and my hard work will make me +forget them." The youthful heart, that has left a cloistered retreat +of learning and piety, where masters have been loved, studies enjoyed, +and God tenderly served, will test these words by itself, and read in +their eloquent painting another proof that nature is the same to-day +as yesterday. Gregory the wonder-worker was truly a scholar to be +proud of, but the master's pride must have been obliterated in his +emotion when he listened to such a description of his school as this. + +But the scholar, after all, will leave with a good heart. "There is +the Word, the sleepless guardian of all men." He puts his trust in +him, and in the good seed that his master has sown; perhaps he may +come back again and see him yet once more, when the seed shall have +sprung up and produced such fruits as can be expected from a nature +which is barren and evil, but which he prays God may never become +worse by his own fault. "And do thou, O my beloved master ([Greek +text]), arise and send us forth with thy prayer; thou hast been our +saviour by thy holy teachings whilst we were with thee; save us still +by thy prayers when we depart. Give us back, master, give us up into +the hands of him that sent us to thee, God; thank him for what has +befallen us; pray him that in the future he may ever be with us to +direct us, that he may keep his laws before our eyes and set in our +heart that best of teachers his divine fear. Away from thee, we shall +not obey him as freely as we obeyed him here. Keep praying that we may +find consolation in him for our loss of thee, that he may send us his +angel to go with us; and ask him to bring us back to thee once more; +no other consolation could be half so great." And so they depart, the +two brothers, never again to see their master more. They both became +great bishops, Gregory the greatest; we find Origen writing to him, +soon after his departure, a letter full of affection and good counsel; +and who can tell how much the teaching of the catechist of Alexandria +had to do with that wonderful life and never-dying reputation that +distinguish Gregory Thaumaturgus among all the saints of the church? + +{488} + +Origen presided at Alexandria for twenty years--that is to say, from +211 to 231. In the latter year he left it for ever. During this period +he had been temporarily absent more than once. The governor of the +Roman Arabia, or Arabia Petraea, had sent a special messenger to the +prefect of Alexandria and the patriarch, to beg that the catechist +might pay him a visit. What he wanted him for is not recorded; but +Petra, the capital of the Roman province, was not so far from the +great road between Alexandria and Palestine as to be out of the way of +Greek thought and civilization, and its interesting remains of art, +belonging to this very period, which startled modern travellers only a +short time past, prove that it was itself no inconsiderable centre of +intellectual cultivation. We may, therefore, conjecture that his +errand was philosophical, or, in other words, religious. + +The second time that Origen was absent from Alexandria was for a +somewhat longer space. The emperor Caracalla, after murdering his +brother and indulging in indiscriminate slaughter, in all parts of the +world from Rome to Syria, had at last arrived, with his troubled +conscience and his well-bribed legions, at Alexandria. The +Alexandrians, it is well known, had an irresistible tendency to give +nicknames. Caracalla's career was open to a few epithets, and the +unfortunate "men of Macedon" made merry on some salient points in the +character of the emperor and his mother. They had better have held +their tongues, or plucked them out; for in a fury of vengeance he let +loose his bloodthirsty bands on the city. How many were slain in that +awful visitation no one ever knew; the dead were thrown into trenches, +and hastily covered up, uncounted and unrecorded. The spectre-haunted +emperor took special vengeance on the institutions and professors of +learning. It would seem that he destroyed a great part of the +buildings of the Museum, and put to death or banished the teachers. As +for the students, he had the whole youth of the city driven together +into the gymnasium, and ordered them to be formed into a "Macedonian +phalanx" for his army--a grim retort, in kind, for their pleasantries +at his expense. Origen fled before this storm. Had he remained, he was +far too well known now to have been safe for an hour. Doubtless +obedience made him conceal himself and escape. He took refuge in +Caesarea of Palestine, where the bishop, St. Theoctistus, received him +with the utmost honor; and, though he was yet only a layman, made him +preach in the church, which he had never done at Alexandria. When the +tempest in Egypt had gone by, Demetrius wrote for him to come back. He +returned, and resumed the duties of his post. + +After this he took either one or two other journeys. He was sent into +Greece, and visited Athens, with letters from his bishop, to refute +heresy and confirm the Christian religion. He also stayed awhile at +the great central see of Antioch. + +On his journey to Greece, he had been ordained priest at Caesarea, by +his friend St. Theoctistus. When he returned to Alexandria, about the +year 231, Demetrius, the patriarch, was pleased to be exceedingly +indignant at his ordination. We cannot go into the controversy here; +we need only say that a synod of bishops, summoned by the patriarch, +decreed that he must leave Alexandria, but retain his priesthood; +which seems to show that they thought he had better leave for the sake +of peace, though they could not recognize any canonical fault; for if +they had, they would have suspended or degraded him. Demetrius, +indeed, assembled another synod some time later, and did degrade and +excommunicate him. But by this time Origen had left Alexandria, never +to return {489} and was quietly living at Caesarea. We dare not +pronounce sentence in a cause that has occupied so many learned pens; +but we dare confidently say this, that it is impossible to prove +Origen to have been knowingly in the wrong. We must now follow him to +Caesarea. + +If some Levantine merchantman, manned by swarthy Greeks or Syrians, in +trying to make Beyrout, should be driven by a north wind some fifty +miles further along the coast to the southwest, she might possibly +find herself, at break of day, in sight of a strange-looking harbor. +There would be a wide semi-circular sweep of buildings, or what had +once been buildings; there would be a southern promontory, crowned +with a tower in ruins; there would be the vestiges of a splendid pier; +and there would be rows of granite pillars lying as if a hurricane had +come off the land, and blown them bodily into the sea. An Arab or two, +in their white cotton clothes, would be grimly looking about them, on +some prostrate columns; and a stray jackal, caught by the rising sun, +would be scampering into some hole in the ruins. Our merchantman would +have come upon all that is left of Caesarea of Palestine. If she did +not immediately make all sail to Jaffa, or back to Beyrout, it would +not be because the place does not look ghostly and dismal enough. And +yet it was once the greatest port on that Mediterranean coast, and far +more important than either Jaffa, Acre, Sidon, or even Beyrout now. It +owed its celebrity to Herod the Great. Twelve years of labor, and the +expenditure of vast sums of money, made the ancient Turris Stratonis +worthy to be rechristened Caesarea, in honor of Caesar Augustus. Its +great pier, constructed of granite blocks of incredible size, afforded +at once dwelling-places and hostelries for the sailors and a splendid +columned promenade for the wealthy citizens. The half-circle of +buildings, all of polished granite, that embraced the sea and the +harbor, and terminated in a rocky promontory on either side, shone far +out to sea, and showed conspicuous in the midst the great temple of +Caesar, crowned with statues of Augustus and of the Roman city. An +agora, a praetorium, a circus looking out to sea, and a rock-hewn +theatre, were included in Herod's magnificent plans, and fittingly +adorned a city that was to become in a few years the capital of +Palestine. We see its importance even as early as the days immediately +after Pentecost. It was here that the Gentiles were called to the +faith, in the person of Cornelius the centurion, a commander of the +legionaries stationed at Caesarea. His house, three hundred years +later, was turned into a chapel by St. Paulo, and must therefore have +been recognizable at the time of which we write. It was here that +Herod Agrippa I. planned the apprehension of St. Peter and the +execution of St. James the Greater; and it was in the theatre here +that the beams of the sun shone upon his glittering apparel, and the +people saluted him as a god, only to see him smitten by the hand of +the true God, and carried to his palace in the agonies of mortal pain. +St. Paul was here several times, and last of all when he was brought +from Jerusalem by the fifty horsemen and the two hundred spearmen. +Here he was examined before Felix, and before Festus, in the presence +of King Agrippa, when he made his celebrated speech; and it was from +the harbor of Caesarea that he sailed for Rome to be heard before +Caesar. For many centuries, even into the times of the crusaders, it +continued to be a capital and haven of great importance. Between 195 +and 198, it was the scene of one of the earliest councils of the +Eastern Church, and, as the see of Eusebius, the founder of church +history, and the site of a celebrated library, it must always be +interesting in ecclesiastical annals. But perhaps it would require +nothing more to make {490} it a place of note in our eyes than the +fact that when Origen was driven from Alexandria, in 231, he +transferred to Caesarea not the Alexandrian school, it is true, but +the teacher whose presence and spirit had contributed so much to make +it immortal. + +Caesarea, indeed, was at that time a literary centre only second to +Alexandria or Antioch. It was in direct communication with Jerusalem +by an excellent military road, and with Alexandria by a road that was +longer, indeed, but in no way inferior. It was not far from Berytus +both by land and sea. Like Capharnaum and Ptolemais, but in a yet +higher degree, it was one of Herod the Great's model cities, in which +he had embodied his scheme of _Grecianizing_ his country by the +influence of splendid Greek art and overpowering Greek intellect. It +was also the metropolis of Palestine. St. Alexander, bishop of +Jerusalem, Origen's fellow-student, was the intimate friend of +Theoctistus, bishop of Caesarea; and it is clear that bishops, or +their messengers, from the cities all along the coast, as for as +Antioch, and even the distant Cappadocia and Pontus, were not +unfrequent visitors to this great rallying-point of the church and the +empire. + +When Origen, therefore, left Alexandria and took up his abode in a +city that was in a manner the diminished counterpart of one he had +abandoned, he did not find himself in a strange land. St. Theoctistus +received him with delight. It was not long before he journeyed the +short distance to Jerusalem, to renew his acquaintance with St. +Alexander; and these two bishops were only too glad to put on his +shoulders all the charges that he would accept. "They referred to +him," says Eusebius, "on every occasion as their master; they +committed to him alone the charge of interpreting and teaching Holy +Scripture and everything connected with preaching the Word of God in +the church." From the way in which the historian joins the two bishops +together, it would appear that Caesarea was a common school for the +two dioceses, and a sort of ecclesiastical seminary whither the +clerics from Jerusalem came, as to a centre where learning and learned +men would abound more than in ruined and fallen AElia. It is certain, +however, that Origen, in a short time, was teaching and writing as +fast as at Alexandria. His name soon began to draw scholars. +Firmilian, bishop of so distant a see as Caesarea of Cappadocia, one +of the most stirring minds of his age, who had controversies on his +hands all round the sea-coast to Carthage in one direction, and Rome +in the other, was a friend of Theoctistus. It is possible that he knew +Origen also, perhaps from having seen him at Alexandria, but more +probably from having met him when Origen travelled into Greece. At any +rate, he conceived an enthusiastic liking for him. Nothing would serve +him but to make Origen travel to his own far-off province to teach and +stimulate pastors and people; and, not long afterward, we find himself +in Judaea, that is, at Caesarea, on a visit to Origen, with whom he is +stated to have remained "some time," for the sake of "bettering +himself" in divinity. And, as Eusebius sums up, "not only those who +lived in the same part of the world, but very many others from distant +lands, left their country and came flocking to listen to him." We need +not mention here again the names Gregory and Athenodorus. + +The position now occupied by Origen at Caesarea was, therefore, one of +the highest importance. He was no longer a private teacher, or even an +authorized master teaching in private; he was no less than the +substitute for the bishop himself. In the Eastern Church, indeed, the +custom by which no one but the Bishop ever preached in the church was +not so strictly observed as it was in the West; but if a {491} +presbyter did received the commission of preaching, it was always with +the understanding that what he said was said on behalf of the pontiff, +whose presence in his chair was a guarantee for its orthodoxy. When +Origen, therefore, on the Lord's day, after the reading of the holy +Gospel, stood forward from his place in the presbytery, and began to +explain either the Gospel text itself or some passage in the Old +Testament which also had formed part of the liturgical service, it was +well understood that he was speaking with authority. And this is the +first light in which we should view his homilies. + +It would be saying little to say that Origen's homilies and +commentaries (for we need not distinguish them here) marked an era in +the exposition of Scripture. They not only were the first of their +kind, but they may be said to have created the art, and not only to +have created it, but, in certain aspects, to have finished it and to +have become like Aristotle in some of his treatises, at once the model +and the quarry for future generations. It may be true, as of course it +is, that he was not absolutely the first to write expositions of +Scripture. The splendid eloquence of Theophilus of Antioch had already +been heard on the four Gospels, and his spirit of interpretation seems +to have had much more affinity for Origen's own spirit than for that +of the school of his own Antioch two centuries later. Melito had +written on the Apocalypse, but his direct labors on Scripture were +only an insignificant part of his voluminous works, if, indeed, they +were not all rather apologetic and hortatory than explanatory. The +Mosaic account of the creation had occupied a few fathers with its +defence against Gnostic and infidel. But we know from Origen's own +words that he had read and used "his predecessors," as he calls them. +And yet we may truly say that he is the first of commentators, not +only because no one before him had dared to undertake the whole +Scripture, but on account of his novel and regular method. He is +turned by one great authority, Sixtus Senensis, "almost self-taught," +so little of what he says can he have gleaned from others. But in +estimating how much Origen owed to those before him, we should lose a +valuable hint towards understanding him if we forgot Clement of +Alexandria and the great body of tradition, oral and written, of which +the Alexandrian school was the headquarters. We know that the +Alexandrian Jew, Philo, two hundred years before Clement's time, had +written wonderful lucubrations on the mystical sense of Holy +Scripture. The Alexandrian catechetical teachers, catching and using +the spirit of the place, had always been Alexandrian in their +Scriptural teachings. Clement himself had commented on the whole of +the Scriptures in his book called the "Hypotyposes." Origen entered +into inheritance. We see the spirit of the time and place in those +questionings with which, in his early years, he used to puzzle his +father. The unrivalled industry that made him collect versions of the +sacred text from Syria, Asia, and even the shores of Greece, must have +scrupulously sought out and exhausted every source of information and +every extant document relating to Scripture exposition that was at +hand for him in his own city. So that Origen, though in one sense the +founder of a school, was really the culmination of a series of learned +men, and, by the influence of his name, made common to the universal +church that knowledge and method which before had been confined to the +pupils that had listened to the Catechisms. + +Although, however, we may guess, we cannot be certain how +progressively or gradually a methodical and scientific exegesis had +been growing up at Alexandria; and we come upon the commentaries of +Origen with all the freshness of a discovery. Before him we have been +accustomed to writings like those of the apostolic fathers: we have +been reading apologies of the most wonderful eloquence, whose Greek +shames the rhetoricians, {492} or whose Latin has all the spirit, +earnestness, and tenderness of new language, but in which Holy +Scripture is at the most only summarized and held up to view. Or, +again, we have been listening to a venerable priest crushing the +heretics with the word of God, or to a philosopher confuting the Jews +out of their own mouth. Or, once more, we have heard the pagan +intellect of the world convinced that truth was nowhere to be found +but in Jesus, that the writings of the prophets were better than those +of the philosophers, and that the morality of the New Testament cast +far into the shade the sayings of Socrates. Splendid ideas, striking +applications, telling proofs, grand views, all these the early fathers +found in holy Scripture, and all these they used in the exhortations, +apologies, or refutations that were called for by the several +necessities of their times. But sustained, regular commentary, as +such, they have none, or, what is the same to us now, none has come +down. The explanation of words, the classification of meanings, the +distinction of senses, the answering of difficulties and the solution +of objections--all this, done, not for an odd portion of the text here +and there, but regularly through the whole Bible, is what +distinguishes the labors of Origen from those of all who have gone +before him, and makes them so important for all who shall come after +him. In making acquaintance with him we feel that we have come across +a master, with breadth of view enough to handle masses of materials in +a scientific way, and with learning enough never to be in want of +materials for his science. We see in his Scripture commentaries the +pressure of three forces of unequal strength, but each of them of +marked presence, the tradition of the church, the teachings of the +great school, and the needs of his own times. To understand him we +must understand this pressure under which he wrote. The first two +forces may be passed over as requiring no explanation. We must dwell a +little on the latter, for unless we vividly realize the necessities +under which the Christian teacher in his time lay, of meeting certain +enemies and withstanding certain views, we shall be led to join in the +cry of those who exclaim against Origen's Scripture exposition as +partly useless and partly dangerous. + +These necessities arose from two phenomena that appeared almost with +the birth of Christianity, and which, with a somewhat wide +generalization, we may call the Ebionite and the Gnostic. No one can +have looked into early church history without being struck by the +difficulty the church seems to have had to free herself from the +trammels of Judaism. We need not allude to St. Paul, and his Epistles +to the Galatians and to the Romans, and his various contentions with +friend and foe for the freedom of the Gospel. The Epistle to the +Hebrews, with its thoroughness of dogmatic exposition and its grand +style, was also addressed to the Judaizants. Nay, if Ebion himself +ever had an existence, it is more than probable that he was teaching +at Jerusalem about the very time at which the Epistle seems to have +been written and sent, if sent, to the Christian Jews of that city. It +is certain, however, that Alexandria was one of the very earliest of +the churches which shook itself free, in a marked manner, from the +traditions of the law. The cosmopolitan spirit of the great city was a +powerful natural auxiliary in a development which was substantially +brought about by the Holy Ghost and the pastors of the patriarchal +see. The Hebrew element hardly ever had such a footing at Alexandria +as it had at Antioch. We can see in the writing of Justin Martyr, +(_circa_ 160,) whose wide experience of all the churches makes his +testimony especially valuable, a. picture of Christianity, young and +exuberant, with its face joyously set to its destined career, and with +the swathing-bands of the synagogue lying neglected behind it. Justin +had an {493} Alexandrian training, and among his many-sided gifts +shone pre-eminent that intellectual culture which was the most +effectual of the human weapons that beat off the spirit of Judaism. +And in Clement himself there is no trace of any narrow formalism, but, +on the contrary, a grand, world-embracing charity, that can recognize +the work of the Divine Logos in all the manifold varieties of human +wisdom and human beauty. So that long before the time that Origen +succeeded his master, the Alexandrian church was free from all +suspicion of clinging to what St. Paul calls the "yoke of bondage;" +and knew no distinction of Jew or Greek. But the party that had +troubled the Apostle, and spread itself through the churches almost as +soon as the churches were founded, was by no means extinct, even at +Alexandria. Since the destruction of Jerusalem, the Jews had become +scattered all over the empire. The great towns, such as Antioch, +Caesarea, and Alexandria, each contained a strong Jewish community. At +Alexandria they were numerous enough to have a quarter to themselves. +Now, it is not too much to say that many so-called Jews and Christians +in such a city were neither Jews nor Christians, but Ebionites; that +is, they acknowledged the divine mission of Christ, which destroyed +their genuine Judaism, but denied his divinity, which was still more +fatal to their Christianity. The consequences of such a state of +things to the interpretation of Scripture are manifest. The law was +still good and binding. Jerusalem was still the holy city, the chosen +of God, and the spiritual and temporal capital of the world. St. Paul +was denounced as one who admitted heathen innovations and destroyed +the word of God. Everything in holy Scripture, that is, in the Old +Testament and in the scanty excerpts from the New, which they +admitted, was to be understood in a rigorously literal sense; and the +"Clementines," once falsely attributed to St. Clement of Rome, but now +considered to belong to the second century, and to be the work of an +Ebionite, are the only writings of the period in which the allegorical +sense is totally and peremptorily denied. Ebionism was not very +consistent with itself, and the Ebionites of St. Jerome's time would +hardly have saluted their sterner brethren of the apostolic age; but +the name may always be truly taken to typify those whose views led +them to hold to the "carnal letter" of the Old Testament. They carried +the old Jewish exclusiveness into Christianity. They considered the +historical parts of the Scripture to have been written merely because +their own history was so important in God's sight that he thought it +right to preserve its minutest record. The prophecies were only meant +to glorify, to warn, or to terrify themselves, and had no message for +the Gentiles. Even the parables and figures that occurred in the +imagery of the inspired writer were dragged down to the most absurd +and literal significations. The adherents of Ebionism were neither few +nor silent in the time of Origen. + +But if the Ebionite party in Alexandria, and in the Church generally, +was strong and stirring, there was a party not less important, +perhaps, who, in their zeal for the freedom of Christianity against +the bonds of Judaism, were in danger of going quite as far wrong in a +different direction. It is always the case in a reaction, that the +returning force finds it difficult to stop at its due mark. So it had +been with the reaction against the Ebionites, and especially at +Alexandria. There was a body of advanced Christians who did not +content themselves with not observing the law, but went on to +depreciate it. It was not enough for them to see the Old Testament +fulfilled by Jesus Christ, but they must needs show that it never had +much claim to be even a preparation and a type. It was full of +frivolous details, useless records, and absurd narrations. {494} Who +cared for the _minutiae_ about Pharaoh's butler, Joseph's coat, or +Tobias's dog? Of what importance to the world were the marchings and +counter-marchings, the stupid obstinacy and the unsavory morality of a +few thousand Hebrews? Who was interested to hear how their prophets +scolded them, or their enemies destroyed them, or their kings +tyrannized over them? How could it edify Christians to know the number +and color of the skins of the tabernacles or the names of the masons +and blacksmiths that built the Temple, or the fact that the Jewish +people considerably varied their carnal piety by intervals of still +more carnal crime and idolatry? The state of things represented by the +Old Testament had passed away, and they were of no interest save as +ancient history; and therefore, it was absurd to treasure up the +Pentateuch and the Prophets as if they were anything more, and not +rather much less, than the rhapsodies of Homer and the travels of +Herodotus. In fact--and to this conclusion a considerable party came +before long--the Old Testament was certainly not divine at all; at any +rate, it was not the work of the Father of the Lord Jesus, but of some +other principle. And here the Gnostic interest was at hand with an +opportune idea. Who _could_ have written the Old Testament but the +Demiurge? That primary offshoot of the Divinity, just, but not good, +(this was their distinction,) can never have been more worthily +employed than in concocting a series of writings in which there was +some skill, some justice, and very little goodness. The Demiurge was +certainly a handy suggestion, and the consigning of the Old Testament +to his workmanship made all commentary thereon compressive into a very +brief space. Away with it all, for a farrago of nonsense, lies, and +nuisances! + +Of course, neither of these parties, when extremely developed, could +lay any claim to Christianity. But the world of that day had in it +Ebionites and Gnostics of every degree and every changing hue of +error. They were not unrepresented in the very bosom of the Church. +Pious Christians might be found who, strong in filial feeling to their +Jewish great-grandfathers, would see in the records of the old +covenant nothing but a most interesting family history, with +delightfully long pedigrees and a great deal of strong language about +the glory and dignity of the descendants of Israel. On the other hand, +equally pious Christians, and among them a great majority, perhaps, of +the Gentile converts, would consider it an extravagant compliment to +read in the house of God the sayings and doings of such a very +unworthy set of people as the Hebrews. And the remarkable fact would +be, that both these sets of worthy Christians would begin with the +same fundamental error, though arriving at precisely opposite +conclusions. That the Old Testament had a literal meaning, _and no +other_ was the starting-point of both Ebionite and Gnostic The former +concluded, "therefore let us honor it, for we are a divine race;" the +latter, "therefore let us reject it, for what are the Jews to us?" + +It would not require many sentences to prove, if our object in these +notes were proof of any sort, that Origen's leading idea in his +Scripture exposition is to look for the mystical sense. His very name +is a synonym for allegory, and he is perhaps as often blamed for it as +praised. But even blame, when outspoken and honest, is better than +feeble excuse; and and unfortunately not a few of the great +Alexandrian's critics have undertaken to excuse him for having such a +leaning to allegory. The Neo-Platonists, they say, dealt largely in +myths, and allegorized everything; somebody allegorized Homer just +about that time. Now Origen was a Platonist. We might answer, that +Origen was above all a Christian, and knew but very little of Plato +till he was thirty years old; and that the Greek allegories {495} were +invented by a more decorous generation for the purpose of veiling the +grossness of the popular mythology; whereas the Christian allegory, as +introduced by St Paul, or indeed by our Blessed Saviour, was a +spiritual and mysterious application of real facts. Others, again, +offer the excuse that Philo had allegorized very much, and Origen +admired Philo. This is saying that allegory was very usual at +Alexandria, as we have said ourselves when speaking of St. Clement. +But it is not saying why allegory was kept up so warmly in the school +of the Catechisms, or what was the radical cause that made its being +kept up there a necessity for the well-being of the Church. This we +have endeavored to state in the foregoing remarks. + +When Origen, then, announces his grand principle of Scripture +commentary, in the fourth book of the De Principiis, we may be excused +if we see in it the statement of an important canon, whereby to +understand much that he has written. He says, "Wherefore, to those who +are convinced that the sacred books are not the utterances of man, but +were written and made over to us by the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, +by the will of God the Father of all through Jesus Christ, we will +endeavor to point out how they are to read them, keeping the rules of +the divine and apostolic Church of Jesus Christ." This is the key-note +of all his exposition, and derives its significance from the state of +opinions among those for whom he wrote; and a dispassionate +application of it to such passages as seem questionable or gratuitous +in his writings, will explain many a difficulty, and show how clearly +he apprehended the work he had to do. If the Old Testament be really +the word of the Holy Ghost, as, he says, all true Christians believe, +then nothing in it can be trivial, nothing useless, nothing false. +This he insists upon over and over again. And, descending more to +particulars, he states these three celebrated rules of interpretation, +which may be called, with their development, his contribution to +Scripture exposition. They are so plainly aimed at Ebionites and +Gnostics, that we need merely to state them to show the connection. + +His first rule regards the old Law. The Law, he says, being abrogated +by Jesus Christ, the precepts and ordinances that are purely legal are +no longer to be taken and acted up to literally, but only in their +mystical sense. This seems rudimentary and evident nowadays; but at +that period it greatly needed to be clearly stated and enforced. + +His second rule is about the history and prophecy relating to Jew or +Gentile that is found in the Old Testament. The Ebionite who kissed +the Pentateuch, and the Gnostic who tore it up, were both foolish +because both ignorant. These historic and prophetic details were +undoubtedly true in their letter; but their chief use to the Christian +Church, and the main object the Holy Spirit had in giving them to us, +was the mystical meaning that lies hidden under the letter. Thus the +earthly Pharaoh, the earthly Jerusalem, Babylon, or Egypt, are chiefly +of importance to the Church from the fact that they are the allegories +of heavenly truths. + +Origen's third canon of scriptural exposition is this: "Whatever in +holy Scripture seems trivial, useless, or false," (the Gnostics could +not or would not see that parabolic narratives are most unjustly +called false,) "is by no means to be rejected, but its presence in the +divine record is to be explained by the fact that the divine Author +had a deeper and more important meaning in it than appears from the +letter. Such portions, therefore, must be taken and applied in a +spiritual and mystical sense, in which sense chiefly they were +dictated by Almighty God." + +These three rules look simple now; they were all-important and not so +simple then. It was by means of them, {496} and in the spirit which +they indicate, that the great catechist led his hearers by the hand +through the flowery paths of God's word, and in his own easy, simple, +earnest style, so different from that of the rhetoricians, showed them +the true use of the Old Testament. We hope it is not a fanciful idea, +but it has struck us that, the difference of circumstances considered, +there are few writers so like each other in their handling of holy +Scripture as Origen and St. John of the Cross. Both treat of deep +truths, and in a phraseology that sounds uncommon--the one because his +hearers were intellectual Greeks, the other because he is professedly +treating of the very highest points of the spiritual life. Both use +holy Scripture in a fashion that is absolutely startling to those who +are accustomed to rationalistic Protestantism, or to what may be +called the domestic wife-and-children interpretation of the +Evangelicals. Both bring forward, in the most unhesitating manner, the +mystic sense of the inspired words to prove or illustrate their point, +and both mix up with their more abstruse disquisitions a large amount +of practical matter in the very plainest words. From communion with +both of them we rise full of a new sense of the presence and nearness +of the Spirit of God, and of reverence for the minutest details of his +Word. Finally, both the Greek father and the Spanish mystic interpret +the ceremonial prescriptions, the history, the allusions to physical +nature, and the incidents of domestic life that occur in the Old +Testament, as if all these, however important in their letter, had a +far deeper and more interesting signification addressed to the +spiritual sense of the spiritual Christian. + +To illustrate Origen's principles of Scripture interpretation by +extracts from his works would exceed our present limits, however +interesting and satisfactory the task might be. Neither have we space +to notice his celebrated division of the meaning of the text into +literal, mystical, and moral, a division he was the first to insist +upon formally. To answer the objections of critics against both his +principles and his alleged practice would also be a distinct task of +great length. We must content ourselves with having briefly sketched +and indicated his spirit. There are grave theological controversies +too, as is well known, connected with his name; and on these we have +had no thought of entering. The purpose of this and the preceding +articles has not been dogmatical, but rather biographical. We have +attempted to set forth on the one hand the personal character of this +great man; on the other, the external circumstances by which that +character was influenced, and through which it exercised influence on +others. + +------ + +{497} + + +Translated from the Spanish. + +PERICO THE SAD; OR, THE FAMILY OF ALVAREDA. + + +CHAPTER I. + +Following the curve formed by the ancient walls of Seville, encircling +it as with a girdle of stone, leaving on the right the river and Las +Delicias, we reach the gate of San Fernando. From this gate, in a +direct line across the plain, as far as the ridge of Buena Vista, +extends a road which passes the rill upon a bridge of stone, and +ascends the steep side of the hill. To the right of the road are seen +the ruins of a chapel. At a bird's-eye view this road looks like an +arm which Seville extends toward the ruins as if to call attention to +them; for though small, and without a vestige of artistic merit, they +form a religious and historic souvenir. They are an inheritance from +the great king, Fernando III., whose memory is so popular that he is +admired as a hero, venerated as a saint, and beloved as a king: thus +realizing, in one grand historic figure the ideal of the Spanish +people. + +Having gained the summit, the road descends upon the opposite side +into a a little valley, through which runs a narrow stream, which has +washed its channel so clean that you will see in it only shining +pebbles and golden sand. + +Fording this stream, the road touches on its right at a cheerful and +hospitable little inn, and salutes on its left a Moorish castle seated +so haughtily upon the height that it seems as though the ground had +risen solely to form a pedestal for it. This castle was given by Don +Pedro de Castilla to Doña Maria de Padilla, whose name it retains. The +estate and castle of Doña Maria passed in time, as a pious donation, +to the Cathedral of Seville, the chapter of which has, in our days, +sold it to a private gentleman. The associations passed for nothing, +since a little while afterward, the withered, old, and furrowed Doña +Maria appeared clothed in the whitest of lime, and adorned with +brilliants of crystal. + +Let us follow the road which advances, opening its way through the +palmettos and evergreens of some pasture-lands, until it enters the +village of Dos-Hermanas, [Footnote 85] situated in the midst of a +sandy plain, two leagues from Seville. + + [Footnote 85: Dos-Hermanas, two sisters. ] + +One sees here neither river, nor lake, nor umbrageous trees, nor rural +houses with green blinds, nor arbors covered with twining plants, nor +peacocks and Guinea fowls picking the green turf, nor grand avenues of +trees in straight lines, like slaves holding parasols, to provide a +constant shade for those who walk beneath. All these are wanting here. +Sad it is to confess it! All is common, rude, and inelegant, but +instead, one meets good and contented faces, which prove how little +those things are needed to make happiness. One sees, beside, flowers +in the yards of the houses, and at their doors gay and healthy +children, even more numerous than the flowers, and finds that sweet +peace of the country, made up of silence and solitude, an atmosphere +of Eden and the sky of paradise. + +The village consists of houses of a single story, arranged in long, +straight, though not parallel streets, which open upon the large, +sandy market-place, spread out like a yellow carpet before a fine +church, which lifts its lofty tower, surmounted by a cross, like a +soldier elevating his standard. + +{498} + +Behind the church we shall find the oasis of this desert. Supported by +the rear wall of the edifice is a gate, opening into a wide and vast +court, which leads to the chapel of Saint Anna, the patroness of the +place. Built against the side of the chapel is the small and humble +dwelling of the custodian, who is both singer and sacristan of the +church. In this enclosure we shall see century-old cypresses, thick +foliaged and sombre; the lilac, of stem so slight and rapid growth, +lavishing leaves, flowers, and perfumes upon the wind, as if conscious +that its life is short; the orange, that grand seigneur, that favorite +son of the soil of Andalusia, to whom it yields a life so sweet and +long. We shall see the vine, which, like a child, needs the help of +man to thrive and rise, and which spreads its broad leaves as if to +caress the trellis that supports it. For it is certain that even +plants have their individual characters from which we receive +different impressions. We can hardly see a cypress without sadness, a +lilac without tenderness, an orange-tree without admiration. Does not +the lavender suggest the thought of a neat and peaceful interior; and +the rosemary, perfume of holy night, does it not awaken the wholesome +and sacred thoughts of that season? + +To the right and left of the place extend those interminable olive +plantations, which form the principal branch of the agriculture of +Andalusia. The trees being planted well apart from each other give a +cheerful air to these groves, but the ground underneath, kept so level +and free from other vegetation by the plough, renders them wearisomely +monotonous. At certain distances we encounter the groups of buildings +which belong to the estates. These are constructed without taste or +symmetry, and we may go all round them without finding the front. +There is nothing imposing about these great masses, or structures, +except the towers of their windmills, which rise above the olives as +if to count them. The most of these estates belong to the aristocracy +of Seville, but they are generally deserted because the ladies do not +like to live in the country, and are therefore as desolate and as +empty as barns, so that in these out-of-the-way places, the silence is +only broken by the crowing of the cock, while he vigilantly guards his +seraglio, or by the braying of some superannuated ass, that, turned +out by the overseer to take his ease, tires of his solitude. + +At the close of a beautiful day in January, in the year 1810, might +have been heard the fresh voice of a youth of some twenty years, who, +with his musket upon his shoulder, was walking with a firm but light +step along one of the footpaths which are traced through the olive +groves. His figure was straight, tall, and slight. His person, his +air, his walk, had the ease, the grace, and the elegance which art +endeavors to create, and which nature herself lavishes upon the +Andalusians with generous hand. His head, covered with black curls, a +model of the beautiful Spanish type, he carried erect and proudly. His +large eyes were black and vivid; his look frank and full of +intelligence. His well-formed upper lip, shortened with an expression +of cheerful humor, showed his white and brilliant teeth. His whole +person breathed a superabundance of life, health, and strength. A +silver button fastened the snowy shirt at his brown throat. He wore a +short jacket of gray cloth, short trowsers, tied at the knee with +cords and tassels of silk, and a yellow silk girdle passed several +times around his waist. Leather shoes and gaiters of the same, finely +stitched, encased his well-formed feet and legs. A wide-brimmed +Portuguese hat, adorned with a velvet band and silk tassels, and +jauntily inclined toward the left side, completed the elegant +Andalusian dress. + +This youth, noted for his active disposition, and for his impulsive +and daring character, was employed by the superintendent of one of the +estates to act as guard during the olive gathering. He sang as he went +along: + +{499} + + "The way is short, my step is light, + I loiter not, nor do I weary; + The path seems downward--easy trod, + When up the hill I climb to Mary. + + "But long the road, and oh! how steep! + My lingering footsteps slow and weary; + The mountains seem before me piled + When down the hill I come from Mary." + +Arriving at the paling which enclosed the plantation the guard sprang +over it without stopping to look for the gate, and found himself in a +road face to face with another youth a little older than himself, who +was also going toward the village. He was dressed in the same manner, +but he was neither so tall nor so erect as the former. + +His eyes were gray, and not so vivid, and his glance was more +tranquil, his mouth was graver and his smile sweeter. Instead of a gun +he carried a spade upon his shoulder. An ass preceded him without +being driven, and he was followed by an enormous dog, with short thick +hair of a whitish yellow color, of the fine race of shepherd-dogs of +Estremadura. + +"Halloo! Is this you, Perico? God bless you!" exclaimed the elegant +guard. + +"And you, too, Ventura, are you coming to take a rest?" + +"No," answered Ventura, "I come for supplies, and besides, it is eight +days--" + +"Since you saw my sister, Elvira," interrupted Perico with his sweet +smile. "Very good, my friend, you are killing two birds with one +stone." + +"You keep still, Perico, and I will. He whose house has a glass roof +shouldn't throw stones at his neighbor's," answered the guard. + +"You are happy, Ventura," proceeded Perico with a sigh, "for you can +marry when you like, without opposition from any one." + +"And what!" exclaimed Ventura, "who or what can oppose your getting +married?" + +"The will of my mother," replied Perico. + +"What are you saying?" asked Ventura, "and why? What fault can she +find with Rita, who is young, good-looking, and comes of a good stock, +since she is own cousin to you?" + +"That is precisely the reason my mother alleges for not being in favor +of it." + +"An old woman's scruples! Does she wish to change the custom of the +church, which permits it?" + +"My mother's scruples," replied Perico, "are not religious ones. She +says that the union of such near relations is against nature, that the +same blood in both repels itself, and distaste is the result; that +sooner or later evils, misfortunes and weariness follow and overtake +them, and she gives a hundred examples to prove it." + +"Don't mind her," said Ventura; "let her prophesy and sing evil like +an owl. Mothers have always something against their sons' marrying." + +"No," answered Perico gravely, "no; without my mother's consent I will +never marry." + +They walked along some instants in silence when Ventura said: + +"The truth is, I am like the captain who embarked the passengers and +remained on shore himself, or like the preacher who used to say, 'Do +as I tell you and not as I do;' for, in fact, does not the will of my +father hold me, tied down like a lion with a woollen rope? Do you +think, Perico, that if it were not for my father, I would not now be +in Utrera, where the regiment of volunteers is enlisting to go and +fight the infamous traitors who steal across our frontier in the guise +of friends, to make themselves masters of the country and put a +foreign yoke upon our necks?" + +"I am of the same mind," said Perico, "but how can I leave my mother +and sister who have only me to look to? But remember, if my mother +sets herself against my marrying, I'm not going to live so, and I +shall go with the other young men." + +"And you will do right," said Ventura with energy. "As for me, the day +they least expect it, though they call me, I shall not answer, and you +may be sure, Perico, that on that day there will be a few less +Frenchmen on the soil of Spain." + +{500} + +"And Elvira?" questioned Perico. + +"She will do like others, wait for me--or weep for me." + + +CHAPTER II. + +The house of the family of Perico was spacious and neatly whitewashed, +both without and within. On each side of the door, built against the +wall, was a bench of mason work. In the entry hung a lantern before an +image of our Lord which was fixed upon the inner door, according to +the Catholic custom, which requires that a religious thought shall +precede everything, and puts all things under some holy patronage. In +the midst of the spacious court-yard an enormous orange-tree rose +luxuriantly upon its smooth and robust trunk. Its base was shielded by +a wooden frame. For numberless generations this beautiful tree had +been a source of enjoyment to this family. The deceased Juan Alvareda, +the father of Perico, claimed upon tradition, that its existence dated +as far back as the expulsion of the Moors, when, according to his +assertion, an Alvareda, a soldier of the royal saint, Fernando, had +planted it, and when the parish priest, who was his wife's brother, +would jest him upon the antiquity, and uninterrupted succession of his +lineage, or make light of it, he always answered, without being +disturbed or vacillating for an instant in his conviction, that all +the lineages of the world were ancient, and that, though the direct +line or succession of the rich might often be extinguished, such a +thing never happened with the poor. + +The women of the family made of the leaves of the orange-tree tonics +for the stomach and soothing preparations for the nerves. The young +girls adorned themselves with its flowers and made confections of +them. The children regaled their palate and refreshed their blood with +its fruit. The birds had their quarters-general among its leaves, and +sung to it a thousand cheerful songs, while its possessors, who had +grown up under its shelter, watered it unweariedly in summer-time and +in winter cut away its withered twigs, as one pulls the gray hairs +from the head of the father he would never see grow old. + +On opposite sides of the entry were two suites of rooms, or, according +to the expression of the province, _partidos_, both alike; consisting, +each, of a parlor having two small windows with gratings looking +toward the street, and two bedrooms forming an angle with the parlor, +and receiving light from the yard. At the end of the yard was a door +which opened into a large enclosure in which were the kitchen, +wash-house, and stables, and which paraded in its centre a large +fig-tree of so little pretension and self-esteem that it yielded +itself without complaint to the nightly roost of the hens, never +having bent its boughs under the inconvenient weight, even to play +them a trick by way of carnival. + +The master of the house had been dead three years. When he felt his +end approaching, he called his son to him and said: "In your care I +leave your mother and sister; be guided by the one and watch over the +other. Live always in the holy fear of God, and think often of death, +so that you may see his approach without either surprise or fear. +Remember my end, that you may not dread your own. All the Alvaredas +have been honest men; in your veins flows the same Spanish blood and +in your heart exist the same Catholic principles that made them such. +Be like them, and you will live happily and die in peace!" + +Anna, his widow, was a woman distinguished among her class, and she +would have been so in a more elevated one. Carefully brought up by her +brother the priest, her understanding was cultivated, her character +grave, her manners dignified, and her virtue instinctive. These +merits, united with {501} her easy circumstances, gave her a real +superiority over those who surrounded her, which she accepted without +misusing. Her son Perico, submissive, modest, and industrious, had +been her consolation, his love for his cousin Rita being the only +disquietude he had ever caused her. + +Her daughter Elvira, who was three years younger than Perico, was a +malva in gentleness, a violet in modesty and a lily in purity. +Ill-health in childhood had given to her features, which closely +resembled those of her brother, a delicacy, and an expression of calm +resignation, which lent to her a singular attraction. From her infancy +she had clung to Ventura, the proud and handsome son of Uncle Pedro, +who had been the friend and gossip of the late Alvareda. + +The wife of Pedro died in giving birth to a daughter, who from her +infancy had been confided to the care of her mother's sister, a +religious of Alcala. Separated thus from his daughter, Pedro had +concentrated all his affection upon his son, and with pride and +satisfaction had seen him become the handsomest, the bravest, and the +most gallant, of all the youths of the place. + +Directly in front of the house of the Alvaredas stood the small +cottage of Maria, the mother of Rita. Maria was the widow of Anna's +brother, who had been superintendent of the neighboring _hacienda_ of +Quintos. + +This woman was so good, so without gall, so candid and simple, that +she had never possessed enough force and energy to subdue the decided, +haughty, and imperious character which her daughter had manifested +from her childhood, and these evil dispositions had therefore +developed themselves without restraint. She was violent-tempered, +fickle, and cold-hearted. Her face, extraordinarily beautiful, +seductively expressive, piquant, lively, smiling, and mischievous, +formed a perfect contrast to that of her cousin Elvira. + +The one might have been compared to a fresh rose armed with its +thorns; the other to one of those roses of passion, which lift above +their pale leaves a crown of thorns in token of endurance, while they +hide in the depths of their calix the sweetest honey. + +In the delineation and classification of the members which composed +this family and those connected with them, we must not omit Melampo, +the dog we have already seen, lazily following Perico on his return +home. We must give him his place, for not all dogs are equal, even in +the eye of the law. Melampo was a grave and honorable dog, without +pretension, even to being a Hercules or an Alcides among his race, +notwithstanding his enormous strength. He seldom barked, and never +without good cause. He was sober and in nothing gluttonous. He never +caressed his masters, but never, upon any pretext, separated himself +from them. He had never, in all his life, bitten any person, and he +despised above all things the attacks of those curs that with stupid +hostility barked at his heels. But Melampo had killed six foxes and +three wolves; and one day had thrown himself upon a bull which was +pursuing his master, and obliged him to stop by seizing him by the +ear, as one might treat a bad child. With such certificates of +service, Melampo slept in the sun upon his laurels. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +When the two youths arrived, they found Elvira and Rita leaning each +against a side of the doorway, wrapped in their mantles of yellow +cloth, bordered with black velvet ribbon, such as were worn then by +the women of the country in place of the large shawls which they use +nowadays. They covered the lower part of the face, allowing only the +forehead and eyes to be seen. Having wished them good evening, Perico +said to his sister: + +{502} + +"Elvira, I warn you that this bird wants to fly; fasten the cage well +. . . He is beside himself to go and fight these _gabachos_ [Footnote +86] who are trying to pass through here like Pedro through his house." + + [Footnote 86: _Gabachos_, a term of contempt for Frenchmen.] + +"For they say," added Ventura, "that they are approaching Seville; and +must we stand looking on with our arms crossed, without so much as +saying this mouth is my own?" + +"Ah goodness!" exclaimed Elvira, "I hope in God that this may not +happen! Do not even speak of it! O my protectress Saint Anna! I offer +thee what I prize so much, my hair, which I will tie up in a tress +with an azure ribbon and hang upon thy altar, if thou wilt save us +from this." + +"And I," said Rita, "will offer the Saint two pots of pinks to adorn +her chapel, if it falls out so that you take yourselves off in haste +and do not come back soon." + +"Don't say that, even in jest," exclaimed Elvira, distressed. + +"Never mind, let her say it; the Saint is sure to prefer the beautiful +tress of your hair to her pinks," observed Ventura. + +At this moment the good widow, Maria, approached. She was older than +her sister-in-law, and although hardly sixty years old, was so small +and thin that she appeared much older. + +"Children," she cried, "the night is falling, what are you doing out +here, freezing yourselves?" + +"How freezing ourselves?" answered Ventura, unbuttoning his collar, +"I'm too warm, the cold is in your bones, Aunt Maria." + +"Do not play with your health, my son, nor trust in your youth, for +Death does not look at the record of baptism. This north wind cuts +like a knife, and you are more likely to get a consumption by waiting +here than an inheritance from the Indies." + +So saying she passed into the house, all following her, except +Ventura, who went to discharge his commissions. + +They found Anna seated before the brasier, the point of reunion round +which families gather m winter. The great copper frying-pan shone like +gold upon its low wooden bench. The floor of the spacious room was +covered with mattings of straw and hemp, around it were arranged rude +wooden chairs, high-backed and low-seated, a low pine table upon which +burned a large metal lamp, and a leathern arm-chair, like those seen +in the barbers' shops of the region, completed the simple furniture of +the room. In the alcove were seen a very high bed, over which was +spread a white counterpane with well starched ruffles; a very large +cedar chest, with supports underneath to preserve it from the dampness +of the floor; a small table of the same wood, upon which, in its case +of mahogany and glass, was a beautiful image of "Our Lady of Sorrows," +some pious offerings, and the "Mystic Garland; or, Lives of the +Saints," by Father Baltasar Bosch Centellas. + +As soon as they were all reunited, including Pedro, the neighbor and +friend of Anna, the latter began to recite the rosary. When the +prayers were finished Anna took up her distaff to spin, Elvira applied +herself to her knitting, and Pedro, who occupied the great chair, +employed himself in the preparation of a cigarette; Perico in roasting +chestnuts and acorns, which, when they were done, he gave to Rita, who +ate them. + +"Did you ever!" said Perico, "how the rain holds off! The earth has +turned to stone and the sky to brass. Last year at this time it had +rained so much that the ground could not be seen for the grass that +covered it." + +"It is true," said Uncle Pedro, "and now the flocks are perishing with +hunger, notwithstanding that last year their table was so well +spread." + +"It appears to me," added Elvira, in her sweet voice, "that it is +going to rain soon. The river wore its black frown to-day, and the old +people say that these frowns are sleeping tempests, which, when the +winds awaken them, drench the world.'" + +{503} + +"Of course it is going to rain," said Rita; "I saw to-night the star +of the waters which the storm brings for a lantern." + +"It is a-going to rain," confirmed Maria, aroused from her dose by the +abrupt and clear voice of her daughter; "my rheumatic pains announce +it to me. Indeed, wind and rain are the fruits of the season, and they +are needed. But I am sorry for the poor herdsmen who pass such nights +in the inn of the stars." + +"Don't trouble yourself about them, Maria," said the jovial Uncle +Pedro, who had always a saying, a proverb, a story, or a something, to +bring in support of whatever he asserted. "In this world habit is +everything, and that which seems disagreeable to one, another finds +quite to his liking; custom makes all level as the sea, and gilds all +like the sun. There was once a shepherd that got married to a girl as +lovely as a rose, and as chance would have it, on the very night of +the wedding there arose such a tempest as if all the imps from beneath +had been abroad with thunder and lightning, hurricane and flood. It +was too much for the shepherd; he abandoned his bride and rushed to +the window exclaiming as he dashed it open, 'O blessed night I why am +I not out to enjoy thee!'" + +"The bride might well be jealous of such a rival," said Rita, bursting +into a loud laugh. + +The clock struck nine, they recited the "animas," and soon afterward +separated. + +When the mother and her children were left alone Elvira spread a clean +cloth upon the table and placed upon it a dish of salad. Anna and her +daughter began to sup, but Perico remained seated with his head +inclined over the brasier, absently stirring with the shovel the few +coals which still glowed among the ashes. + +"Are you not going to eat your supper, Perico?" said his sister, +extending toward him the fine white bread which she herself had +kneaded. + +"I am not hungry," he answered, without lifting his head. + +"Are you sick, my son?" asked Anna. + +"No, mother," he replied. + +The supper was finished in silence, and when Elvira had gone out, +carrying the plates, Perico abruptly said to his mother: + +"Mother, I am going to Utrera tomorrow to enlist with the loyal +Spanish who are preparing to defend the country." + +Anna was thunderstruck. Accustomed to the docile obedience of her son, +who had never failed to keep his word, she said to him: + +"To the war? That is to say that you are going to abandon us. But it +cannot be! You must not do it! You ought not to leave your mother and +sister, and I will not give my consent." + +"Mother," said the young man, exasperated, "it is seen that you always +have something to oppose to my desires; you have subjected my will, +and now you wish to fetter my arm; but mother," he proceeded, growing +excited, and impelled by the two greatest motives which can rule a +man--patriotism in all its purity, and love in all its ardor, "mother, +I am twenty-two years old, and I have besides strength enough and will +enough, to break away if you force me to it." + +Anna, as much astonished as terrified, clapped her cold and trembling +hands in agony, exclaiming: + +"What! is there no alternative between a marriage which will make you +wretched and the war which will cost you your life?" + +"None, mother," said Perico, drawn out of his natural character, and +hardened by the dread that he should yield in the contest now fairly +entered upon. "Either I remain to marry, or I go to fulfil the duty of +every young Spaniard." + +"Marry, then," said the mother in a grave voice. "Between two +misfortunes I choose the least bitter; but remember, Perico, what your +mother tells you to-day; Rita is vain and light {504} an indifferent +Christian, and an ungrateful daughter. A bad daughter makes a bad +wife--your blood and hers will repel each other. You will remember +what your mother now says, but it will be too late." + +Saying these words, the noble woman rose and went into her room to +hide from her son the tears that choked her voice. + +Perico, who regarded his mother with as much tenderness as veneration, +made a movement as if to retain her. He would have spoken, but his +timidity and the excitement of his mind confused his faculties. He +found no words, and after a moment of indecision rose suddenly, passed +his hand across his damp forehead, and went out. + +During this time Rita, who waited in vain at the grating of her window +for Perico, was impatient and uneasy. + +"I won't put up with this!" she said at last, spitefully, closing the +wooden shutter. "You may come now, but upon my life, you shall wait +longer than I have." At this instant a stone rolled against the foot +of the wall, This was the signal agreed upon between her and Perico to +announce his arrival. + +"Now you may roll all the stones of Dos-Hermanas and I shall not open +the shutter," said Rita to herself. "Perhaps you think you have me at +your will and pleasure, like your old donkey, but this will never do, +my son." + +Another stone came rolling, and bounded back from the wall with more +violence than Perico was accustomed to use. + +"Ho!" said Rita, "he appears to be in a hurry; it is well to let him +know that waiting has not the flavor of caramels; I'm only sorry it +doesn't rain pitchforks." But, after a moment of reflection, she +added, "If we quarrel, the one to bathe in rose water will be my +hypocrite of an aunt; afterward Uncle Pedro's daughter, Saint Marcela, +that the old fox keeps shut up in the convent, like a sardine in +pickle, will be brought out to dance, so that she may trap his godson +Perico on the first opportunity. But they shall not see themselves in +that glass, for to frustrate their plans--" + +And suddenly opening the window, she finished the sentence: + +"I am here." Addressing herself to Perico, she continued with +asperity, "Look here, are you determined to throw down the wall? Why +did you wake me? When I am kept waiting I fall asleep, and when I am +asleep I do not thank anyone for disturbing me; so go back by the way +you came, or by another, it's all the same to me." And she made a +motion as if to shut the blind. + +"Rita, Rita!" exclaimed Perico, "I have spoken to my mother." + +"You!" said Rita, opening again the half-shut blind. "You don't say +it! Why, this is another miracle like that of Balaam's ass! and what +answer did this '_mater_' not '_amabilis_' give you?" + +"She says, yes, that I may marry," answered Perico delightedly. + +"Says yes!" mocked Rita. "Saint Quilindon help me! How often a key can +turn! But it belongs to the wise to change their minds. Go along with +you! To-morrow I will come over and condole with her. Perico, what if, +following the good example of your mother, as mine exhorts me to, I +also should change my mind and now say no?" + +"Rita, Rita!" cried Perico, beside himself with joy, "you are going to +be my wife." + +"That remains to be seen," she responded; "the idea is not like a +silver dollar, which, the oftener you turn it, the prettier it looks." + +With these and other absurdities Rita blotted entirely from the mind +of Perico, the solemn impression his mother's words had left there. + + + +{505} + +CHAPTER IV. + +On the following morning Anna was sitting alone, sad and depressed, +when Uncle Pedro entered. "Neighbor," he said, "here I am, because I +have come." + +"May it be for good, neighbor?" + +"But I have come because I have something to talk to you about." + +"Talk on, neighbor, and the more the better." + +"You must know, then, that my wind-mill of a Ventura has taken it into +his head to go and get his hide pierced by those French savages, +confound them!" + +"Gently, gently, neighbor; kill an enemy in fair fight, but do not +curse him. Perico also was thinking of the same thing. It is bitter, +old friend, it is cruel for us, but it is natural." + +"I do not say the contrary, my friend. _Bad luck to the traitors!_ +but, in short, he is my only son, and I would not lose him; no, not +for all Spain. I have found but one means to keep him at home and am +come to tell you what that is." + +As he spoke, Pedro was seating himself comfortably in the great +leathern arm-chair, gathering up the ends of his cloak, approaching +his feet to the fire, and settling himself at his ease generally. + +"Neighbor," he said, at last, with that profusion of synonymous +phrases in which great talkers indulge, "I abhor preambles, which only +serve to waste the breath. Things ought to be arranged with few words, +and those to the point. One side or the other, and this is mine, that +which can be said in five minutes, why waste an hour talking about it? +that which can be done to-day, why leave it until tomorrow? Of all +roads the shortest is the best, but to come to the point, for I +neither like circumlocution nor--" + +"Really," said Anna, interrupting him, "you give occasion to suppose +the contrary. _Do_ come to the point, for you have kept me in suspense +ever since you entered." + +"Patience, patience! I can't fire myself off like a musket; by talking +folks come to an understanding. What is there to hurry us? Good +gracious! neighbor, if you are not all fire and tow, and as sudden as +a flash. I was saying, Mrs. Gunpowder, that I had found only one +method of keeping this skyrocket of mine from going off; and that is +to take a step which sooner or later I should have taken; in a word, +and to end the matter, I have come to ask of you your Elvira for my +Ventura, hoping the son I offer you may be as much to your liking as +the daughter I ask you for is to mine." + +Anna did not attempt to hide the satisfaction she felt at the prospect +of a union so suitable and equal in every respect, a union that had +been foreseen by the parents, and was as much desired by them as by +their children. Therefore, like the sensible people they were, they +began at once to discuss the conditions of the contract. + +"Neighbor," said Anna, "you know what we have as well as I do. The +only question is how to divide it. This house has always gone to the +oldest son; the vineyard belongs to Perico by right, because he has +improved it, and has newly planted the greater part of it; my cows I +give to him, because he has me to support while I live. The ass he +needs." + +"Would you tell me, companion of my sins," interrupted Pedro, "what +remains to Elvira? for according to these dispositions, it appears to +me she is coming from your hands as our mother Eve, may she rest in +peace, came from those of the Creator." + +"Elvira will have the olive-yard," answered Anna. + +"That _is_ the patrimony of a princess," exclaimed Uncle Pedro. "Go +along! an olive-yard the size of a pocket handkerchief, which hardly +yields oil enough for the lamp of the blessed sacrament." + +"Twenty years ago it yielded _more than_ a hundred _arrobos_," +[Footnote 87] observed Anna. + + [Footnote 87: _Arroba_ of liquids, 32 pints; of solids, 29 pounds of + 16 ounces to the pound.] + +"Neighbor," said Pedro, "that which was and is not, is the same as if +it had never been; twenty years ago the girls were dying for me." + +{506} + +"Forty years ago, you mean," Anna remarked. + +"How very exact you are, neighbor," pursued Pedro. "Let us come to the +point. Trees are as scarce in that yard as hairs on the head of Saint +Peter, and those which remain are so dry that they look like church +candlesticks." + +"It is plain, my friend, that you have not seen them in a long time. +Since Perico has known that the oliveyard was to be his sister's, the +trees have been taken care of like rose-bushes in pots; each tree +would shade a parade ground. Elvira will have, besides, the fields +that skirt and that are watered by the brook which runs through them." + +"And that are so parched and thirsty, you will take notice, because +the brook is one half the year dry and the other half without water," +added Pedro. "Let us understand each other. I like bread, bread, and +wine, wine; neither bran in the one nor water in the other. Those +fields, neighbor, are poor and unproductive; of no use, except for the +asses to wallow in. But, since no one overhears us, did you not sell +last year two fat hogs, each weighing fifteen _arrobas_, at a shilling +a pound--calculate it, a hundred bushels of barley at fifteen +shillings a bushel, a hundred skins of wine, and fifty of vinegar? Now +this cat which you must have, shut up in a chest, without room to +breathe, what better occasion could there be to give it the air? When +his majesty, Charles V., came to Jerez (so the story goes) they +offered him a rich wine. But such a wine! rather better than that of +your grace's vineyard, and his majesty appears to have been a judge, +for he praised the wine greatly. 'Sir,' said the Alcalde, so puffed up +that his skin could scarce contain him, for you must know that the +people of Jerez are more vain of their wine than I am of my son, +'permit me to inform your majesty that we have a wine even better than +that.' 'Yes?' said the king; 'keep it then for a better occasion;' and +this, neighbor, is the letter I write to you; it is for you to make +the application." + +"Which is," said Anna, "that all this money, and somewhat more, I have +saved and put together for the daughter of my heart." + +"That's what I call talking," exclaimed Pedro. "Upon my word, +neighbor, you are worth a Peru. As for my Ventura, all I have is his, +since Marcela wishes to take the veil, and you may be sure that he is +not shirtless. He will have my house." + +"A mere crib," said Anna. + +"My asses." + +"They are old" + +"My goats." + +"That do not make up to you in milk, cheeses, and kids, what they cost +you in fines, they are so vicious." + +"And my orchard," continued Pedro, without replying to the raillery +with which Anna revenged herself for his jests. + +In such discussion they arranged the preliminaries of the contract, +remaining afterward, as they were before, the best friends in the +world. + +When Pedro had gone, Anna put on her woollen mantle, and repressing +her grief, and hiding the extreme repugnance she felt, went to the +house of her sister-in-law. + +Maria, who professed for Anna, who was very kind to her, as much love +as gratitude, and as much respect as veneration, received her with +loquacious pleasure. + +"It does one's eyes good to see you in this house," she exclaimed, as +Anna entered. "What good thought has brought you, sister?" + +And she hastened to place a chair for her guest. + +Anna sat down, and made known the object of her visit. + +The proposition so filled the poor woman with joy, that she could not +find words to express herself. + +"O my sister!" she exclaimed in broken sentences, "what good fortune! +Perico! son of my heart! It is to Saint Antonio that I owe this good +{507} fortune! And you, Anna, are you satisfied? Look here, sister: +Rita, although forward, is really a good-hearted girl. She is wilful, +but that is my fault. If I had brought her up as well as you have +Elvira, she would be different. She is giddy, but you will see (with +years and married life) how steady she will become. All these things +are the effects of my spoiling and of her youth. Rita! Rita!" she +cried, "come, make haste: here is your aunt--what do I say? your +mother, she wishes to become, by marrying you to Perico." + +Rita entered with the self-possession of a banker, and the composure +of a diplomatist. + +"What do you say, daughter?" cried the delighted mother. + +"That I knew it," replied Rita. + +"Go along," said the mother in an undertone, "if you are not as calm +as if you were used to it, and cooler than a fresh lettuce." + +"And what would you have me do--dance a fandango, because I am going +to be married?" answered Rita, raising her voice. + +Anna rose and went out. Maria, extremely mortified by her daughter's +rudeness, went with her sister-in-law as far as the street, lavishing +upon her a thousand expressions of endearment and gratitude. + + +CHAPTER V. + +Preparations were being made for the weddings. That of Elvira and +Ventura was to take place before that of Rita and Perico, as the +former had not to wait for a dispensation from Rome. + +Pedro wished his daughter Marcela to assist at her brother's marriage, +before commencing her novitiate, and determined to go to Alcalá to +bring her. Maria had a debt to collect there, and needing all her +funds for the expected event, took advantage of her old friend's going +to make the trip in company. + +The ancient pair, mounted upon their respective asses, set out on +their journey, crossing themselves, and Maria, the Christian soul, +making a prayer to the holy archangel, Saint Raphael, patron of all +travellers, from Tobias down to herself. + +Maria, comfortably seated upon the the cushions of her saddle, dressed +in a wide chintz skirt, which was plaited at the waist, a jacket of +black woollen cloth, of which the closely fitting sleeves were +fastened at the wrist by a row of silver buttons, and round her neck, +a white muslin kerchief, pinned down at the back to keep it from +touching her hair, looked like a burlesque, anticipated, upon the mode +which was to rule among the fashionables thirty years later. A little +shawl covered her head, the ends being tied under her chin. + +Pedro wore, with some slight difference, the dress we have already +described in speaking of his son. The cloth was coarser, the bolt +black, as became a widower, his clothes all fitted more loosely, and +his hat had a broader brim, and was without ornament. + +"It is a day of flowers!" said Maria, "the fields are smiling, and the +sun seems as if he were telling them to be gay." + +"Yes," said Pedro, "the yellow-haired appears to have washed his face, +and sharpened his rays, for they prick like pins." + +He took out a little rabbit-skin bag, in which was tobacco, and began +to make a cigarette. + +"Maria," said he, when he had finished it, "my opinion is, that, you +will come back from Alcalá with your hands as empty as they go. But, +Christian woman, who the deuce tempted you to lend money to that +vagabond? You knew that he had not so much as a place whereon to fall +dead, and nothing in expectation but alternate rations of hunger and +necessity." + +"But," said Maria, "to whom shall we lend if not to the poor? the rich +have no need to borrow." + +{508} + +"And don't you know, big innocent, that 'he who lends to a friend, +loses both the money and the friend!' But you, Maria, are always so +credulous, and I tell you now that this man will pay you in three +instalments: 'badly, late, and never.'" + +"You always think the worst, Pedro." + +"That is the reason why I always hit the mark; think ill, and you will +think the truth," said the crafty Pedro. + +Presently he commenced droning a ballad, of which the interminable +text is as follows: + + In my house I heard at night, + Sounds that roused me in affright; + Quick unsheathed my rapier bright, + Stole upstairs with footsteps light. + + Searched the dwelling all around, + From the rooftree to the ground, + Listening for the faintest sound-- + Nothing heard I, nothing found. + + And my story, being new, + I'll repeat it o'er to you. + In my house, etc., etc. + +Maria said nothing, nor did she think much more. Rocked by the quiet +pace of her animal, she yielded herself to the indolence which the +balmy spring day induced, and went along sleeping. + +Half the road being passed, they came to a small inn. When they +arrived some soldiers were lounging upon the brick seats which were +fixed on each side of the door under the projecting roof. As soon as +they perceived the approach of our venerable couple, they began to +attack them with facetious sayings, burlesque provocations, and +railleries, such as are usual among the country folk, and especially +among the soldiers. + +"Uncle," said one, "where are you going with that ancient relic?" + +"Aunty," cried another "is the church where you were christened still +standing?" + +"Aunt," said another, "does your grace retain any recollection of the +day you were married?" + +"Uncle," asked the fourth, "are you going with this maiden to Alcalá +to have the bans published?" + +"No," answered Pedro, lazily dismounting, "I shall wait for that until +I am of age, and the girl has her growth." + +"Aunt," continued the soldiers, "shall we help you down from that gay +colt?" + +"It is the best thing you can do, my sons," responded the good woman. + +The soldiers approached, and with kindly attention assisted her to +alight. + +Pedro found some acquaintances in the tavern who immediately asked him +to drink with them. He did not wait to be urged, and having drank said +to them: + +"It is my turn now, and since I have accepted your treat, you, my +friends, and these gentlemen, whom I know only to serve, will do me +the favor to drink a small glass of _anisete_ to my health." + +"Uncle Pedro," said a young muleteer of Dos-Hermanas, "tell us a +story; and I in the mean while will take care to keep your glass +filled so that your throat don't get dry." + +"Ah me!" exclaimed Aunt Maria, who after having drank her little glass +of _anisette_ [Footnote 88] had seated herself upon some bags of +wheat, "have mercy on us, for if Pedro lets loose his boneless member, +we shall not get back to our place to-night, at least, not without the +miracle of Joshua." + + [Footnote 88: Liquor distilled from anise-seed.] + +"There is no danger, Maria," answered Pedro, "but you will sit on +those sacks till the corn sprouts." + +"Is it true, Uncle Pedro, what my mother says," asked the muleteer, +"that in old times, when you were young, you were a lover of Maria's?" + +"It is indeed, and I feel honored in saying it," answered Uncle Pedro. + +"What a story!" exclaimed Aunt Maria, "it is a lie as big as a house. +Go along with you, Pedro, for a boaster. I never had a lover in my +life except my husband, 'may he rest in peace.'" + +"O Mrs. Maria, Mrs. Maria!" said Pedro, "how very poor is your grace's +memory! for you know the song-- + +{509} + + "Though you take from him the sceptre, + Robes of state, and signet rings, + Still remains unto the monarch + This--that he was once a king." + +"It is true," Maria answered, "that he made love to me one day at my +cousin's wedding, and that he came one night to my window; but he got +such a fright there that he left me planted, and ran away as if fear +had lent wings to his feet; and I believe he never stopped until he +ran his nose against the end of the world." + +"How is that?" exclaimed the audience, laughing heartily; "is that the +way you show your heels when you are frightened, Uncle Pedro?" + +"I neither boast of my courage," replied the latter composedly, "nor +do I wish to gain the palm from _Francisco Esteban_." + +"That is being more afraid than ashamed," said Aunt Maria, who was +becoming impatient. + +"You see, sirs," said Uncle Pedro, slyly winking, "that she has not +yet forgiven me, which proves, does it not, that she was fond of me? +But I should like to know," he proceeded, "which of you is the _Cid +Campeador_ that would like to have to do with beings of the other +world; with supernatural things?" + +"There was nothing more supernatural than your fears," interrupted +Maria, "and they had no more cause than the rolling of a stone from +the roof, by some cat that was keeping vigil." + +"Tell us about it. Uncle Pedro, tell us how it happened," cried the +audience. + +"You must know then, sirs," began Uncle Pedro, "that the window Maria +indicated to me, was at the back of the house. The house was in a +lonesome place on the outskirts of the town; near by was a picture of +purgatory, with a lamp burning before it. As I looked at the light, +something which happened there a short time before came into mind. A +milkman used to pass by the picture every night as he went out of +town, carrying the empty skins which he brought in at sunrise every +morning, filled with milk. When he came to this place, he did not +scruple to lower the consecrated lamp to light his cigarette. One +night, it was the eve of All Souls, when he had taken the lamp down, +as was his custom, it went out, and he could not light his cigarette. +He found it strange, for the wind slept, and the night was clear. But, +what was his astonishment when a moment after, turning to look back, +he saw the lamp lighted, and burning more brightly than ever. +Recognizing in this a solemn warning from God--touched, and repenting +of the profanation he had done--he made a vow to punish himself by +never smoking another cigarette in his life; and, sirs," added Pedro, +in a grave voice, "he has kept it." + +Pedro paused, and for a moment all remained silent. + +"This is an occasion," presently said Maria, "to apply the saying, +that when a whole company is silent at once, an angel has passed by, +and the breath of his wings has touched them with awe." + +"Come, Uncle Pedro," said the muleteers, "let us hear the rest of the +story." + +"Well, sirs," proceeded Pedro, in his former jocose tone, "you must +know that the lamp inspired me with great respect, mingled with not a +little fear. Is it well, I said to myself, to come here and trifle +under the very beards of the blessed souls that in suffering are +expiating their sins? And I assure you, that light which was an +offering to the Lord--which appeared to watch and to record--and +seemed to be looking at me and rebuking me, was an object to impose +respect. Sometimes it was sad and weeping like the _De Profundis_, at +others immovable like the eye of the dead fixed upon me, and then the +flame rose, and bent, and flickered, like a threatening finger of fire +admonishing me. + +{510} + +"One night, when its regards appeared more threatening than ever +before, a stone, thrown by an invisible hand, struck me on the head +with such force that it left me stupefied; and when I started to run, +though I was, as you might say, in open field, it happened with me as +with that 'negro of evil fortune' who, where there were three doors to +go out at, could not find one; and so, running as fast as I could, +instead of coming to my house, I came to a quarry and fell in." + +"I have always heard of that negro of evil fortune," said one of the +listeners, "but could never find out how he came to be called so. Can +you tell me?" + +"I should think so!" answered Uncle Pedro. + +"There was once a very rich negro who lived in front of the house of a +fine young woman, with whom he fell in love. The young woman, vexed by +the soft attentions and endearments of the fellow, laid the matter +before her husband, who told her to make an appointment with the negro +for that evening. She did so, and he came, bringing a world of +presents. She received him in a drawing-room that had three doors. +There she had a grand supper prepared for him. But they were hardly +seated at the table when the light was put out, and the husband came +in with a cowhide, with which he began to lash the negro's shoulders. +The latter was so confounded that he could not find a door to escape +through, and kept exclaiming as he danced under the blows: + + "Poor little negro, what evil fortune! + Where there are three doors, he cannot find one.' + +"At last, he chanced upon one, and rushed out like the wind. But the +husband was after him, and gave him a push that sent him from the top +of the stairs to the bottom. A servant hearing the noise he made, ran +to ask the cause. 'What would it be,' answered the black, 'but that I +went up on my tiptoes and came down on my ribs?' + + "Que he subido de puntillas. + The bajado de costillas." + +"Uncle Pedro," asked the muleteer, laughing, "was that the cause of +your remaining estranged?" + +"No," said Pedro, "eight days afterwards, I armed myself with courage +and returned to the grating, but Maria would not open the window." + +"Aunt Maria did not want you to be stoned to death like Saint +Stephen," said the muleteer. + +"It was not that, boy; the truth is, that Miguel Ortiz, who had just +completed his term, returned to the place, and it suited Maria to +forsake one and take up with another who----" + +"Was not afraid," interrupted Maria, "to talk, with good intentions, +to a girl in the neighborhood of a _consecrated object_; for, do you +suppose that all those souls were spinsters?" + +"I think so, Maria, because the married pass their purgatory in this +world--the men, because their wives torment them, and the women, +through what their children cause them to suffer. Well, sirs, I took +the matter so to heart that I could not stay in Dos-Hermanas when the +wedding was celebrated, and I went to Alcalá." + +"Where he remembered me so well, that he came back married to +another." + +"It is true, for I have always thought it best 'when one king is dead, +to set up another.'" + +"Ah Pedro! everlasting talker," said Maria getting up, "let us go." + +"Yes, let us go; for the sun is as hot as if he were flying away from +the clouds, and I think it will rain." + +"God forbid!" exclaimed Maria, "give us the sun and wasps though they +sting!" + +"Why should it rain, since we are in March?" put in the muleteer. + +"And don't you know, Jose" replied Uncle Pedro, "that January promised +a lamb to March, but when March arrived the lambs were so fat and fine +that January would not fulfil the promise? Then March was vexed and +said to him, + + 'With three days left me of my own. + And three friend April will me loan, + I'll pat your sheep in such a state, + You'll wish you'd paid me when too late.' + +{511} + +"And so let us be off. Good-by, gentlemen." + +"What a hurry you are in, Aunt Maria!" said the muleteer. "Are you +afraid you shall take root?" + +"No, but these asses of ours do not go like yours, Jose." + +"That is so," said Pedro as he assisted Maria to mount; "with us, all +is old--the horsewoman, her squire, and the steeds. My ass is so +judicious that she cannot make up her mind upon which foot to limp, +and therefore limps on all four; and that of Maria so old, that, if +she could speak, she would say 'thee and thou' to us all. Well, +gentlemen, your commands." + +"Health and dimes to you, Uncle Pedro." + +Our travellers took the road again, and when they reached Alcalá, +separated to attend to their respective affairs. + +An hour afterward they rejoined each other. Pedro came accompanied by +his daughter, who threw herself upon Maria's neck with that tender +sentimentality of young girls whose hearts have not been bruised, +wounded, or chilled, by contact with the world. + +"You have collected your money?" questioned Pedro, as though he +doubted it. + +"They offered me half now," answered Maria, "or the whole after +harvest; and, as I am in want of my dimes, I preferred the former." + +"Not Solomon, Maria! not even Solomon! could have acted more wisely; +for, 'blessed is he that possesses,' and 'one bird in the hand is +worth a hundred on the wing.'" + +Pedro took his daughter up behind him, and they set out--Maria taking +care of her money; Marcela of the flowers, spices, cakes, and +sweetmeats she had bought as gifts; and Pedro looking after them both. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +The arrival of Marcela caused great joy to all except Rita, who +neither wished nor tried to hide the ill-humor she felt in the +presence of one who had been destined by both families to be the wife +of Perico. + +This hostile disposition, and the cold reserve which Rita imposed upon +Perico in his intercourse with Marcela, were the first frosts which +had ever fallen upon the springtime of that pure spirit. + +Marcela was far from suspecting the base and bitter sentiments of +Rita, and besides, she would not have understood them; for, though a +young woman, she had the soul of a child. Having lived in the convent +from her birth, she had created for herself a sweet existence, which +could not be enlarged by the interests and passions of life, except at +the cost of innocence and happiness. She loved her good religious, her +garden, her gentle and peaceful duties. She was attached to her +devotions, to her church, and to her blessed images. She wished to be +a nun, not from spiritual exaltation, but because she liked the life; +not from misanthropy, but with joy of heart; not because she was +without convenient place or position in the world, which many believe +to be a motive for taking the veil, but because her position, her +place, she found--and preferred it--in the convent. + +This is what many do not, or pretend not to comprehend. Everything can +be understood in this world; all vices; all irregularities; all the +most atrocious inclinations; even the propensity of the Anthropophagi; +but that the desire for a tranquil and retired life, without care for +the present, or thought for the future, can exist, is denied, is +incomprehensible. + +In the world everything is believed in--the masculine woman, the +morality of stealing, the philanthropy of the guillotine, in the +inhabitants of the moon, and other humbugs, as the English say; or +_canards_, as our neighbors have it; or _bubbles_ and _fables_, as we +call them. The satirical sceptic, called the world, has a throat {512} +down which all these can pass, for there is nothing so credulous as +incredulity, nor so superstitious as irreligion. But it does not +believe in the instincts of purity, in modest desires, in humble +hearts, and in religious sentiments. No indeed; the existence of these +is all humbug, a _bubble_ which it cannot receive. This monster has +not a throat wide enough for these. + +Marcela, accompanied by Anna and Elvira, made her first visit to the +church, and to the chapel of Saint Anna, into which the good wife of +the sacristan hastened to lead them. + +The chapel is deep and narrow; at the extremity is an altar and the +effigy of the saint. In a crystal urn, inserted into the altar, is +seen a wooden cross and a small bell. The effigy of Saint Anna is very +ancient; its lower part widens in the form of a bell, upon its breast +it bears an image of the Blessed Virgin, which in the same manner +bears that of the child Jesus. The remote origin stamped upon this +effigy, uniting antiquity of idea with age of material, gives, as it +were, wings to the devotion it inspires with which to rise and free +itself from all present surroundings. On the wall, at the right hand, +hang two large pictures. In one is seen an angel, appearing to two +girls, and in the other the same girls, in a wild and solitary place, +with a man who is digging a hole in the earth. + +On the left hand an iron railing surrounds the entrance to a cave, the +descent into which is by a narrow stairway. + +Marcela and her companions having performed their devotions, seated +themselves in some low chairs which the sacristan's wife placed for +them under the arbor in the court-yard, and Marcela asked the obliging +and kindly woman to explain to them the two pictures which they had +seen in the chapel. The good creature, who loved to tell the story, +began it very far back, and related it in the following words. + + +POPULAR TRADITION OF DOS-HERMANAS. + +"In times the memory of which is almost lost, a wicked king, Don +Rodrigo, ruled in Spain. It was then customary for the nobles of the +realm to send their daughters to court, and therefore the noble count, +Don Julian, sent his fair daughter Florinda, known as _La Cava_. When +the king saw her he was inflamed with passion, but she being virtuous, +the king obtained by violence that which he could not by consent. When +the beautiful Florinda saw herself dishonored, she wrote to the +Count--with blood and tears she wrote it, in these words: + +"'Father, your honor and mine are blemished; more to your renown would +it have been, and better for me, if you had killed me, instead of +bringing me here. Come and avenge me.' + +"When the Count, Don Julian, read the letter, he fell down in a swoon, +and when he came to himself he swore, upon the cross of his sword, to +take a vengeance the like of which had never been heard of, and one +proportioned to the offence. + +"With this intention, he treated with the Moors and gave up to them +Tarifa and Algeciras, and like a swollen river which breaks its +embankments they inundated Andalusia. They reached Seville, known in +those times as _Hispalis_, and this place, then called _Oripo_. The +Christians, before they fled, buried deep in the earth the venerated +image of their patroness Saint Anna. And there it remained five +hundred years, until the good king Fernando, having made himself +master of the surrounding country, invested Seville. Here, however, +the Moors made such a stubborn resistance that the spirit of the +monarch began to fail him. Then, in the tower of _Herveras_, now +fallen to ruin, Our Blessed Mother appeared to him in a dream, +animating his valor, and promising him victory. The good king returned +to his camp at Alcalá with renewed courage. He summoned all the +artificers that could {513} be found, and commanded them to make an +image, as nearly as possible in the likeness of his vision, but to his +great chagrin no one succeeded. + +"There then presented themselves, two beautiful youths, dressed like +pilgrims, offering to make an image in every particular like the form +the good king had seen in his vision. They were conducted to a +workshop in which they found prepared for them everything necessary +for their work. The following day, when the king, stimulated by his +impatience, went in to see how the work was progressing, the pilgrims +had disappeared. The materials were lying on the floor untouched, and +upon an altar was an image of our Lady, just as she had appeared to +him in his sleep. The king, recognizing the intervention of the +angels, knelt weeping before the image he had wished for so much, and +which, by the hands of angels, their Queen herself had sent him. + +"Afterward, when the pious chief had reduced Seville, he caused this +image to be placed in a triumphal car drawn by six white horses, his +majesty walking behind with naked feet, and deposited in the cathedral +of Seville, where it is still venerated, and where it will continue to +be venerated until the end of time, under the invocation of our Lady +of Kings. In her chapel, at her feet, lies the body of the sainted +monarch--relics, of the possessions of which all Spain may well envy +Seville. + +"Soon after the appearance of the vision, the king with great +confidence in the help of God prepared to make another attack. He +posted himself upon the neighboring heights of Buena Vista: the two +wings of his brave army extending on both sides, like two arms ready +to do his will. But the troops were so weary, and so faint from heat +and thirst, that they had neither strength nor spirit left. In this +strait, the good king built up an altar of arms, upon which he placed +an image of the Blessed Virgin which he always carried with him, +calling upon her in these words, 'Aid me! aid me! Holy Mother, for if +by thy help I set up the cross to-day in Seville, I promise to build +thee a chapel in this very spot, in which thou shalt be venerated, and +I will deposit in it the standards under which the city shall be +gained.' As he prayed, a beautiful spring began to flow at the foot of +the ridge, sending forth in different directions seven streams. It +flows still, and bears the name of The King's Fountain. + +"Men and horses refreshed themselves, and recovered strength and +courage. Seville was won, and the Moorish King Aixa came bearing the +keys of the city upon a golden salver, and presented them to the pious +conqueror. They are kept with other precious relics in the treasury of +the cathedral. + +"In those times," proceeded the narrator, "there lived in the province +of Leon two devout sisters, named Elvia and Estefania, to whom an +angel appeared and told them to set out for the purpose of finding an +image of Our Lady which the Christians had hidden under the earth. The +father of the devout maidens, Gomez Mazereno, who was as pious as they +were, wished to go with them. But on setting out they were in great +trouble, not knowing what direction to take. Then they heard the sound +of a bell in the air. They saw no bell, but followed the ringing until +they came to this place, where it seemed to go down into the ground at +their feet. This was then an uncultivated waste of matted thorns and +briers, and was called 'The Invincible Thicket,' because the Moors, +who had all these lands under cultivation could never cut it down; +for, unseen by them, an angel guarded it with a drawn sword in his +hand. They began zealously to dig, and digging came to a large flat +stone, which being lifted, they discovered the entrance to a cave--the +same that you saw in the chapel. In it they found the image of the +saint, a cross, the {514} small bell, which, like the star of the +eastern kings had led them here, and a lamp still burning--the very +lamp that lights the saint now, for it hangs in the chapel before her +altar! For more than a thousand years it has burned in veneration of +our patroness. They took up her image and raised this chapel in her +name. Houses were built and clustered together round it, until this +village, which takes the name of Dos-Hermanas from its founders, was +formed under its shelter. See," continued the good woman, rising and +reentering the chapel, "see here the image which nothing has been able +to injure; neither the dampness of the earth, nor dust of the air, nor +the canker of time. In these two pictures are the portraits of the +devout sisters." A great quantity of offerings were seen hanging on +both sides of altar. Of these seven little silver legs, tied together +and suspended by a rose-colored ribbon, attracted Marcela's attention. + +"What is the meaning of that offering?" she asked of the sacristan's +wife. + +"Marcos, the blacksmith, brought them here. It happened, one day, that +the poor fellow was seized with such violent pains in his legs, that +it seemed as though he could neither live nor die. + +"His wife having administered to him without effect all the remedies +that were ordered, took him, stretched upon a cart, to Seville. But +neither could the doctors there do anything to relieve him. One day, +after the unfortunate man had spent all he possessed in remedies, made +desperate by his suffering, and by the cries of his children for the +bread which he had not to give them, he lifted his broken heart to +God, claiming as his intercessor our blessed patroness Saint Anna, +praying with fervor to be made well until such time as his children +should no longer need him; adding: When my children are grown up I +will die without murmuring. And if, until then, I regain my health, I +promise, Blessed Saint, to hang, every year, a little silver leg upon +thy altar, in attestation of the miracle.' The next day Marcos came on +foot to give thanks to God. Years passed. The sons of Marcos had grown +up and were earning their living. There remained with him only a young +daughter. She had a lover who asked her of her father. The wedding was +gay, only Marcos seemed to be in deep thought On the following day he +took his bed, from which he never rose. What he asked had been +granted. His task was done." + +"And these ears of grain?" said Marcela, seeing a bunch of wheat tied +with a blue ribbon. + +"They were brought by Petrola, the wife of Gomez. These poor people +had only the daily wages of the father for the support of eight +children. They had begged the use of a small field to sow with wheat, +and in it were sown also their hopes. With what pleasure they watched +it, and with what satisfaction! for it repaid their care, growing so +luxuriantly that it looked as if they sprinkled it every morning with +blessed water. One day a neighbor came from the field and told the +poor woman that the locust was in her wheat. The locust! One of the +plagues of Egypt! It was as if a bolt from heaven had struck her. +Leaving her house and her little ones, she rushed out wildly, with her +arms extended and not knowing what she did. 'Saint Anna,' she cried, +'my children's bread! my children's bread!' She reached the field and +saw in one corner the track of the locust. This insect destroys the +blades from the foot without leaving a sign. But between its track and +the rest of the field an invisible wall had been raised to protect the +wheat of the pious mother who invoked the saint, and the locust had +disappeared. You can imagine the delight and gratitude of the good +woman, who was so poor that she testified it by the gift of these few +blades of the precious grain." + +{515} + +Anna, Elvira, and Marcela listened with softened and fervent hearts, +and eyes moistened with tears. With the same emotions the relation has +been transmitted to paper. God grant that it may be read in like +spirit! + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +May smiled. Golden with sunlight, noisy with the song of its birds and +the murmur of its insects; odorous with its flowers, laughing, and +happy to be the month, of all others, dedicated to Mary. + +The wedding day of Ventura and Elvira had arrived, and the sun, like a +friend that hastened to be the first to give them joy, rose radiant. +They were ready to set out for the church. Anna pressed to her heart +the child of her love, the gentle Elvira, so humble and thoughtful in +her gladness that she stood with drooping head and eyes cast down, as +if oppressed and dazzled by so much joy. Uncle Pedro, who had never +been so glad in all his life, exceeded even himself in jokes, hints, +and facetious sayings. Maria, transported with her own delight, and +that of others, shed tears continually--tears, like the rain drops, +which sometimes fall from a clear sky when the sun is bright. + +As his rays shine through those drops, so shone Maria's smile through +her tears. + +"Dear sister," said Marcela to Elvira, "next to mine, my sweet Jesus, +your bridegroom is the best and most perfect. See my Ventura, how well +he appears; if he had only a spray of lilies in his hand, he would +look like Saint Joseph in 'The Espousals.'" + +And she had reason to praise her brother, for Ventura, neatly and +richly dressed, more animated and gallant than ever, hurrying the +others to set out, was the type a sculptor would have chosen for a +statue of Achilles. + +Perico forgot even Rita. His large, soft brown eyes were fixed upon +his sister with a look of deep and inexplicable tenderness. Rita only +was indifferent and petulant. + +They were leaving the house when a strange sound reached their ears. A +sound which seemed to be made up of the bellowing of the enraged bull, +the lamentations of the wounded bird, and the growl of the lion +surprised in his sleep. + +It was the cry of alarm and rage of the flocks of fugitives that were +arriving, and the exclamations of astonishment and indignation of the +people of the village that were preparing to imitate them. + +The French had entered Seville with giant strides, and were hurrying +on in their devastating march toward Cadiz. + +Perico having foreseen this event, had prepared a place of refuge for +his family, in a solitary farm-house, far apart from any public way, +and had horses standing in the stables ready against surprise. + +While the men rushed into the yard to prepare the animals, the women, +wild with fear, gathered and tied together the clothes and whatever +else they could carry with them in the panniers. + +"What a sad omen!" said Elvira to Ventura; "the day which should join +us together separates us." + +"Nothing can separate us, Elvira," answered Ventura; "I defy the whole +world to do it. Go without fear. We are going to prepare ourselves, +and shall overtake you on the road." + +Ventura saw them depart under the protection of Perico, and watched +them until they were out of sight. + +But now was heard at the entrance of the village the fatal sound of +drums, which announced the arrival of the terrible phalanx that threw +itself upon that poor unarmed people, taken by surprise, and treated +without mercy. + +{516} + +It came in the name of an iniquitous usurpation of which the +precedents belong to barbarous times, as the resistance it met with +belongs to the days of heroism--a resistance against which it dashed +and was broken, fighting without glory and yielding without shame. + +"Follow me, father," said Ventura. "Sister, come; we must fly!" + +"It is too late," replied Pedro, "they are already here. Ventura, hide +your sister; when night comes we will escape, but now hide +yourselves." + +"And you, father?" said Ventura, hesitating between necessity and the +repugnance he felt to being obliged to hide himself. + +"I," answered Pedro, "remain here. What can they do to a poor old man +like me? Go, I tell you! Hide yourselves! Marcela, what are you doing +there, poor child, as cold and fixed as a statue? Ventura, what are +you thinking of that you do not move? Do you wish to be lost? Do you +wish to lose your sister? Ventura! dear son, do you wish to kill me?" + +His father's cry of anguish roused Ventura from the stupor into which +he had been thrown by fear, uncertainty, and rage. + +"It is necessary," he murmured, with clenched hands, and set teeth. +"Father, father! to hide myself like a woman! while I live I shall +never get over the shame of it!" and taking a ladder, he lifted it to +an opening in the ceiling, which formed the entrance to a sort of loft +or garret, where they kept seeds, and worn-out and useless household +articles, helped his sister to mount, went up himself, and drew the +ladder after him. + +It was time, for there was a knocking at the door. Pedro opened it, +and a French soldier entered. + +"Prepare me," he said in his jargon, "food and drink: give me your +money, unless you want me to take it, and call your daughters, if you +do not wish me to look them up." + +The blood of the honorable and haughty Spaniard rose to his face, but +he answered with moderation, + +"I have nothing that you ask me for." + +"Which means that you have nothing, you thief? Do you know whom you +are talking to, and that I am hungry and thirsty?" + +Pedro, who had expected to pass the whole of this long wished-for day +of his son's marriage in Anna's house, and had therefore nothing +prepared, approached the door which communicated with the interior of +the house, and pointing to the extinguished hearth, repeated, "As I +have already told you, there is nothing to eat in the house, except +bread." + +"You lie!" shouted the Frenchman in a rage; "it is because you do not +mean to give it to me." + +Pedro fixed his eyes upon the grenadier, and in them burned, for an +instant all the indignation, all the rage, all the resentment he +harbored in his soul; but a second thought, at which he shuddered, +caused him to lower them, and say in a conciliating tone: + +"Satisfy yourself that I have told you the truth." + +On hearing this continued refusal, the soldier, already exasperated by +the glance Pedro had cast at him, approached the old man and said; +"You dare to face me; you refuse to comply with your obligation to +supply me. Ha! and worse than all, you insult me with your tranquil +contempt. Upon my life, I will make you as pliant as a glove!" and +raising his hand, there resounded through the house, dry and distinct, +a blow on the face. + +Like an eagle darting upon its prey, Ventura dropped down, threw +himself upon the Frenchman, forced the sword from his hand, and ran it +through his body. The soldier fell heavily, a lifeless bulk. + +"Boy, boy, what have you done?" exclaimed the old man, forgetting the +affront in the peril of his son. + +"My duty, father." + +"You are lost!" + +"And you are avenged." + +"Go, save yourself! do not lose an instant." + +{517} + +"First, let me take away this debtor, whose account is settled. If +they find him here, you will have to suffer, father." + +"Never mind, never mind," exclaimed the father, "save yourself, that +is the first thing to be thought of." + +Without listening to his father. Ventura took the corpse upon his +shoulder, threw it into the well, turned to the old man, who followed +him in an agony of distress, asked for his blessing, sprang with one +bound, upon the wall which surrounded the yard, and to the ground on +the other side. The poor father, mounted upon the trunk of a fig-tree, +holding on by its branches, with bursting heart, and straining eyes, +and breath suspended, saw his son, the idol of his soul, pass with the +lightness of a deer, the space which separated the village from an +olive plantation, and disappear among the trees. + + +TO BE CONTINUED. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +SAPPHICS. + +SUGGESTED BY "THE QUIP" OF GEORGE HERBERT + + + Stratus in terram meditans jacebam; + Saeculum molle et petulans procaxqae, + Asseclas tristem stimulabat acri + Laedere lusu. + + Pulchra, quam tinxit Cytherea, rosa, + "Cujus, quaeso," inquit, "manus, infaceta + Carpere inaudax?" Tibi linquo causam, + Victor Iesu! + + Tinnitans argentum: "Melos istud audi: + Musicae nostine modes suaves?" + Inquit et fugit. Tibi linquo causam, + Victor Iesu! + + Gloria tunc tollens caput et coruscans, + Sericis filis crepitans, me figit + Oculis limis. Tibi linquo causam, + Victor Iesu! + + Gestiit scomma sceleratis aptum, + Callida lingua acuisse Ira; + Conticescat jam. Tibi linquo causam, + Victor Iesu! + + Attamen cum Tu, die constituto, + Eligisti quos Tibi vindicassis, + Audiam o, dextro lateri statatus, + "Euge fidelis" + + +Sti. Lodoiel, in Ascensione Domini, 1866. + +R. A. B. + +------ + +{518} + +[ ORIGINAL.] + +PROBLEMS OF THE AGE. + + +IV. + +THE REVELATION OF GOD IN THE CREED +DEMONSTRATED IN THE CONSTITUTIVE +IDEA OF REASON. + + +As soon as we open the eye of reason we become spectators of the +creation. The word creation in this proposition is to be understood +not in a loose and popular sense, but in a strict and scientific one. +We intend to say, not merely that we behold certain existing objects, +but that we behold them in their relation to their first and supreme +cause. We are witnesses of the creative act by which the Creator and +his work are simultaneously disclosed to the mind. This is the +original constitutive principle of reason, its primal light preceding +all knowledge and thought, and being their condition. It is the idea +which contains in itself, radically and in principle, all possible +development of thought and knowledge, according to the law of growth +connatural to the human intelligence. It includes--God with all his +attributes: the work of God or the created universe; and the relation +between the two, that is, the relation of God to the universe as first +cause in the order of creation, and final cause in the order of the +ultimate end and destination of things. The different portions of this +idea are inseparable from each other. That is, our reason cannot +affirm God separately from the affirmation of the creative act, or +affirm the creative act separately from the affirmation of God. The +being of God is disclosed to us only by the creation, and the creation +is intelligible to us only in the light given by the idea of God. +[Footnote 89] God reveals himself to our reason as creator, and by +means of the creative act. This is the limit of our natural light, and +beyond it we cannot see anything by a natural mode, either in God, or +in the universe. + + [Footnote 89: A careful attention to the succeeding argument will + show that by the idea of God given to intuition, is not meant the + evolved idea, but the idea capable of evolution, or the idea of + infinite, necessary being, which is shown to be the Idea of God by + demonstration.] + +The idea of God must not be confounded with that distinct and explicit +conception which a philosopher or well-instructed Christian possesses. +If the human mind possessed this knowledge by an original intuition, +every human being would have it, without instruction, from the very +first moment of the complete use of reason, and could never lose it. +The idea of God is the affirmation of himself as pure, eternal, +necessary being, the original and first principle of all existence, +which he makes to the reason in creating it, and which constitutes the +rational light and life of the soul. This constitutive, ideal +principle of the soul's intelligence exists at first in a kind of +embryonic state. The soul is more in a state of potentiality to +intelligence, than intelligence in act. The idea of God is obscurely +enwrapped and enfolded in the substance of the soul, imperfectly +evolved in its most primitive acts of rational consciousness, and +implicitly contained but not actually explicated in every thought that +it thinks, even the most simple and rudimental. The intelligence must +be educated, in order to bring out this obscure and implicit idea of +God into a distinct conception in the reflective consciousness. This +education begins with the action of the material, sensible world on +the soul through the body, and specifically through the brain. The +human soul was not created to exist and act under the simple +conditions of pure spirit; but as is incorporated in a material body. +The body is not a temporary habitation, like the envelope of a larva, +but an integral part of man. The {519} intelligence is awakened to +activity through the senses, and all its perceptions of the +intelligible are through the medium of the sensible. The sensible +world is a grand system of outward and visible signs representing the +spiritual and intelligible world. Language is the science and art of +subsidiary signs, the equivalents of the phenomena of the sensible +world and of all that we apprehend through them; and forming the +medium for communicating thought among men. For this reason, all +language so far as it represents the conceptions of men concerning the +spiritual word is metaphorical; and even the word _spirit_ is a figure +taken from the sensible world. + +When the obscure idea is completely evolved, and the soul educated, +through these outward and sensible media, the reflective consciousness +attains to the distinct conception of God. This education may be +imperfect, and the reflective consciousness may have but an incomplete +conception expressed in language by an inadequate formula; but the +idea is indestructible, and the mental conception of it can never be +totally corrupted. This would be equivalent to the cessation of all +thought, the annihilation of all conception of being and truth, and +the extinction of all rational life in the soul. It is a mere negation +of thought, which cannot be thought at all, and a mere non-entity. +There is no such thing as absolute scepticism. Partial scepticism is +possible. Revelation may be denied as to its complete conception, but +the idea expressed in revelation cannot be utterly denied. The being +of God may be denied, as to its complete conception, but not +completely as to the idea itself. No sceptic or atheist can make any +statement of his doubt or disbelief, which does not contain an +affirmation of that ultimate idea under the conception of real and +necessary being and truth. Much less can he enunciate any scientific +formulas respecting philosophy, history, or any positive object, +without doing so. Vast numbers of men are ignorant of the true and +formed conception of God, but every one of them affirms the idea in +every distinct thought which he thinks; and every human language, +however rude, embodies and perpetuates it under forms and conceptions +which are remotely derived from the original and infallible speech of +the primitive revelation. Although the mass of mankind cannot evolve +the idea of God into a distinct conception, and even gentile +philosophy failed to enunciate this conception in an adequate form, +yet when this conception is clearly and perfectly enunciated by pure +theistic and Christian philosophy, reason is able to recognize it as +the expression of its own primitive and ultimate idea. It perceives +that the object which it has always beheld by an obscure intuition, is +God, as proposed in the first article of the Christian formula. The +Christian church, in instructing the uninstructed or partially +instructed mind in pure theism, interprets to it, and explicates for +it, its own obscure intuition. Thus it is able to see the truth of the +being of God; not as a new, hitherto unknown idea, received on pure +authority, or by a long deduction from more ultimate truths, or as the +result of a number of probabilities; but as a truth which constitutes +the ultimate ground of its own rational existence, and is only +unfolded and disclosed to it in its own consciousness by the word and +teaching of the instructor, who gives distinct voice to its own +inarticulate or defectively uttered affirmation of God. So it is, that +God affirms himself to the reason originally by the creative act which +is first apprehended by the reason through the medium of the sensible, +and interpreted by the sensible signs of language to the uninstructed. +Thus we know God by creation, and the creation comes into the most +immediate contact with us on its sensible side. + +It has been said above, that we cannot separate the creative act from +God in the primitive idea of reason. It is not meant by this that +reason has {520} an intuition of God as necessarily a creator. What is +meant is, that the idea of God present to an intelligent mind distinct +from God, presupposes the creative act affirming to it an object +distinct from itself, and itself as distinct from the object. When the +subject is conscious of this truth, "God affirms himself to me," there +are two terms in the formula, "God," and "Me;" involving the third +uniting term of the creative act. The perception of other existences +is simultaneous with the perception of himself, but logically prior to +it; and his first rational act apprehends the existence of contingent, +created substances, as well as the being of the absolute, uncreated +essence. The elements of God and creation are in the most ultimate and +primitive act of reason, and therefore in its constitutive idea. The +creation is the idea of finite essences in God externized by the Word +who speaks them into existence. By the same Word, the intelligent, +rational portion of creation is enlightened with the knowledge of this +idea. It beholds God, as he expresses this idea in the creative act, +and in no otherwise. It cannot see immediately, the necessity of his +being, or, so to speak, the cause why God is and must be, but only the +affirmation of this necessity in the creative act. But this +affirmation is necessarily in conformity with the truth. It presents +being as absolute, and creation as contingent, and therefore not +necessary. False conceptions may not discriminate accurately between +the two terms, being and existence; but when these false conceptions +are corrected, and the idea brought fully into light, the very terms +in which it is expressed clearly indicate God as alone necessary, +creation as contingent, and the creative act as proceeding from the +free will of the Creator. + +God, and creation, are thus simultaneously affirmed in the creative +act constituting the soul; although God is affirmed as first and +creation second, in the logical order: God as cause and creation as +effect; and although creation may be first distinctly perceived and +reflected on, as being more connatural to the reflecting subject +himself, and more directly in contact with his senses and reflecting +faculties. The knowledge of God is limited to that which he expresses +by the similitude of himself exhibited in the creation. Our positive +conceptions of God in the reflective order are therefore derived from +the imitations, or representations of the divine attributes in the +world of created existences. An infinite, and, to natural powers, +impassable abyss, separates us from the immediate intuition of the +Divine Essence. The highest contemplative cannot cross this chasm; and +the ultimatum of mystic theology is no more than the confession that +the essence of God is unseen and invisible to any merely human +intuition, unknown and unknowable by the natural power of any finite +intelligence. We know _ut Deus sit, sed non quid sit Deus--that _God +is, but not _what_ he is. We know that God is, by the affirmation of +his being to reason. [Footnote 90] We form conceptions that enable +our reflective faculties to grasp this affirmation, by means of the +created objects in which he manifests his attributes, and through +which, as through signs and symbols, images and pictures, he +represents his perfections. + + [Footnote 90: That is, after we have demonstrated that which is + involved in the idea of being.] + +This is the doctrine of St. Paul, the great father of Christian +theology. + + "Quis enim hominum, scit quae sunt hominis, nisi spiritus hominis + qui in ipso est? Ita, et quae Dei sunt, nemo cognovit, nisi Spiritus + Dei." + +"For what man knoweth the things of a man, but the spirit of man which +is in him? So the things also that are of God, no one knoweth but the +Spirit of God." + +We understand this to mean, that God alone has naturally the immediate +intuition of his own essence and of the interior life and activity of +his own being within himself. + +{521} + +"Quod notum est Dei manifestum est in illis, Deus enim illis +manifestavit. Invisibilia enim ipsius, a creatura mundi, per ea quae +facta sunt intellecta, conspiciuntar; sempiterna quoqne ejus virtus et +divinitas." "That which is known of God is manifest in them. For God +hath manifested it to them. For the invisible things of him, from the +creation of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by the +things that are made; his eternal power also and divinity." + +That is, God affirms himself distinctly to the reason by the creative +act, and simultaneously with the showing which he makes of his works. + +"Videmus nunc per speculum in enigmate." + +"We see now through a glass in an obscure manner, or more literally, +in a riddle, parable, or allegory." [Footnote 91] + + [Footnote 91: 1 Cor. ii. 11; Rom. i. 19, 20; 1 Cor. xiii. 12.] + +That is, we understand the attributes and interior relations of God as +these are made intelligible to our minds by analogies derived from +created things, in which, as in a mirror, the image of God is +reflected. The original and obscure idea of God given to reason in its +constitution--but given only on that side of it which faces creation, +including therefore in itself creation and its relation to the +creator--may be represented in various forms. It must be distinctly +borne in mind that our natural intuition is not an intuition of the +substance or essence of the divine being, or an intuition of God by +that uncreated light in which he sees himself and his works. God +presents himself to the natural reason as Idea, or the first principle +of intelligence and the intelligible, by the intelligibility which he +gives to the creation. He does not disclose himself in his personality +to the intellectual vision, but affirms himself to reason by a divine +judgment. Our natural knowledge of God is therefore exclusively in the +ideal order. The intuition from which this knowledge is derived may be +called the intuition of the infinite, the eternal, the absolute the +necessary, the true, the beautiful, the good, the first cause, the +ultimate reason of things, etc. Real and necessary being, considered +as the ground of the contingent and as facing the created intellect, +adequately embraces and represents all. This intuition enters into all +thought and is inseparable from the activity of the intelligent mind. +The intellect always does and must apprehend, the real, which is +identical with the ideal, in its thought; and when this reality or +verity which it apprehends is reflected on, it always yields up two +elements, the necessary and the contingent, the infinite and the +finite, the absolute and the conditioned. In apprehending God, we +necessarily apprehend that the soul which apprehends and the creation +by which it apprehends him, must exists. In apprehending creation, we +apprehend that God must be in order that the creation may have +existence. If we could suppose reason to begin with the idea of God, +pure and simple, we could not show how it could arrive at any idea of +the creature. Neither could we, beginning with the exclusive idea of +the conditioned, deduce the idea of the absolute and necessary. We can +never arrive by discursive reasoning, by reflection, by logic, by +deduction or induction, at any truth, not included in the principles +or intuitions with which we start. Demonstration discovers no new +truth, but only discloses what is contained in the intuitions of +reason. It explicates, but does not create. All that we know therefore +about being and existences is contained implicitly in our original +intuition. + +Real being is the immediate object apprehended by reason, as St. +Thomas teaches, after Aristotle. "Ens namque est objectum intellectus +primum, cum nihil sciri possit, nisi ipsum quod est ens in actu, ut +dicitur in 9 Met. Unde nec oppositum ejus intelligere potest +intellectus, non ens." "For being is the primary object of the +intellect, since nothing can be known but that which is being in act, +as it is said in the 9 Met. Wherefore the intellect cannot {522} +apprehend its opposite or not being." [Footnote 92] This appears to +be plain. Either the intelligible which the intelligence apprehends is +real or unreal, actual being or not being, entity or nonentity, +something or nothing. If the intelligence apprehends the unreal, not +being, not entity, no thing; it is not intelligence, it does not +apprehend. These very terms are unstatable except as negations of a +positive idea. I must have the idea of the real, or of being in act, +before I can deny it. I must have the idea of my own existence before +I can deny I existed a century ago. If I deny or question my present +existence, I must affirm it first, before I deny it, by making myself +the subject of a certain predicate, non-existence, or dubious +existence. + + [Footnote 92: Opus. cxiii. c. 1.] + +There is only one door of escape open, which is the affirmation of an +intuition of possible being. But what is the intuition of the possible +without the intuition of the actual? How can I affirm that being is +possible, unless I have an intuition of a cause or reason situated in +the very idea of being which makes it possible, and if possible +necessary and actual? The very notion of absolute being which is +possible only, that is, reducible to act but not reduced to act, is +absurd. For it is not reducible to act except by a prior cause which +is then itself actual, necessary being, and ultimate cause. +Potentiality or possibility belongs only to the contingent, and is +mere creability [sic] or reducibility to act through an efficient +cause. Wherefore we cannot apprehend possible existence except in the +apprehension of an ultimate, creative cause. All that is intelligible +is either necessary being, or contingent existence having its cause in +necessary being. The abstract or logical world is only a shadow or +reflection of the real in our own minds, and instead of preceding and +conditioning intuition, it is its product. + +The real object apprehended by reason has various aspects, but they +are aspects of the same object. The intuition of one aspect of being +is called the intuition of truth or of the true, including truth both +in the absolute and the contingent order. Truth, in regard to finite +things, is the correspondence of a conception to an objective reality. +This finite reality cannot be apprehended as true without a +simultaneous apprehension of necessary and eternal truth as its ground +and reason. The mathematical truths, for instance, in their +application to existing things, express the relations of finite +numbers and quantities. They are, however, apprehended as necessarily +and eternally true in an order of being independent of time, space, +and all contingent existences; which order of being is absolute: the +type of all existing things, the ultimate ground of truth, the +intelligible _in se_. + +The intuition of the beautiful, which is "the splendor of the true," +is the intuition of a certain type and the conformity of existing +things to it, causing a peculiar complacency in the intellect. This +complacency is grounded on a judgment of the eternal fitness and +harmony of things, that is, of an absolute and necessary reason of +their order in eternal truth, that is, in absolute being. + +The intuition of the good is an intuition of being considered as the +necessary object of volition, and of existences as having in their +essence a ground of desirableness or an aptitude to terminate an act +of the will. Hence good and being are convertible terms. The absolute +good is absolute being, and created good is a created existence +conformed to the type of the good which is necessary and eternal. + +The intuition of the infinite reduces itself in like manner to the +intuition of absolute being accompanied by the intuition of the finite +or relative with which it is compared. The absolute is being in its +plenitude, the intelligible as comprehended by intelligence in its +ultimate act, neither admitting of any increase. The finite is that +which can be thought as capable of increase, but, increased +indefinitely, never reaches {523} the infinite. The term infinite, as +Fénélon well observes, though negative in form--expressing the denial +of limitation--is the expression of a positive idea. Herbert Spencer +proves the same in a luminous and cogent manner, even from the +admissions of philosophers of the sceptical school of Kant. [Footnote +93] The intuition of the infinite gives us that which is not referable +to an idea of a higher order, but is itself that idea to which all +others are referred as the ultimate of thought and being. This +intuition of the infinite always presents itself behind every +conception, and makes itself the first element of every thought. + + [Footnote 93: First Principles of a New System of Philosophy.] + +This is clearly seen in the conceptions, commonly called the ideas, of +space and time. The intuition of the infinite will never permit us to +fix any definite, unpassable limits to these conceptions, but forces +us to endeavor perpetually to grasp infinity and eternity under an +adequate mental representation, which we cannot do. We must, however, +if we are faithful to reason, recognize behind these conceptions of +space that cannot be bounded and time that cannot be terminated either +by beginning or end, the idea of being infinite as regards both, the +reason of the possibility of finite things bearing to each other the +relations of co-existence and successive duration. + +The same intuition is at the root of the conception of the +impossibility of limiting the divisibility of mathematical quantity. +Whichever way we turn, the idea of the infinite presents itself. We +can never reach the boundary of multiplicability, nor can we reach the +boundary of divisibility, which is only another form of +multiplicability. The conception of ideal space and number is rooted +in the idea of the infinite power of God to create existences which +have mathematical relations to each other. The positive multiplication +or division of lines and numbers must always have a limit, but the +radical possibility must always remain infinite, because it is +included in the idea of God, which transcends all categories of +space, time or limitation. + +The intuition of cause is in the same order of thought. Necessary +being and contingent existence cannot be apprehended in the same idea, +without the connecting link of the principle of causation. It has been +fully proved by Hume and Kant, that we cannot certainly conclude the +principle of causation from any induction of particular facts. We +always assume it, before we begin to make the induction. It is an _a +priori_ judgment that everything which exists must have a cause, and +that all finite causes, receive their causality from a first cause or +_causa causarum_. For every finite cause has a beginning, which comes +from a prior cause, and an infinite series of finite causes being +absurd, the idea of causation necessarily includes first cause, and is +incapable of being thought or stated without it. Existence is not +intelligible in itself, but in its cause, absolute being. Absolute +being, though intelligible in itself, is not intelligible to human +reason, except by the causative act terminated in existences, and +making them intelligible. That is, being and existence, in the +relation of cause and effect, are presented, and affirmed to reason, +as the one complex object of its original intuition, and its +constitutive idea. + +This is the point of co-incidence of the _a priori_ and _a posteriori_ +arguments, demonstrating the Christian theistic conception. They +analyze the synthetic judgment of reason, and show its contents. The +argument, _a priori_ analyzes it on the side of being, showing what is +contained in being, or _ens_. The argument _a posteriori_ analyzes it +on the side of existence, _existentia_. But either argument implicitly +contains the other. It is impossible to reason on either the first or +last term of the synthetic judgment, without taking in the middle term +of causation, which implies the third term, existence, if you begin +{524} with being, and the first term, being, if you begin with +existence. The theistic conception is God Creator. The theologian who +begins to prove the proposition, God creates the world, cannot deduce +creation by showing what is contained in the pure and simple idea of +necessary, self-existing being. The idea of God includes the creative +power, but not the creative act, which is free, and cannot be deduced +from the primitive intuition, unless God affirms it to the reason in +that intuition; and even the creative power, or the possibility of +creation, cannot be deduced by human reason from the idea of necessary +being. Thus, the argument _a priori_ really does not conclude the +effect, that is, creation, by demonstrating it from the nature of the +cause alone, but assumes it as known from the beginning. + +In like manner, the theologian, who argues from the creation up to the +creator, or from effect to cause, assumes that the creation is really +created, and the effect of a cause exterior to itself; otherwise, the +term existence could never conduct him to the term being. + +We cannot demonstrate beyond what is given us in intuition, for all +demonstration is a simple unfolding of the intuitive idea. The idea +presents to us the creative act. If we reflect the causative or +creative principle, whatever we logically explicate from it is +indubitably true, because in conformity with the idea of first cause. +If we reflect the terminus of the causative act, or creation, whatever +we logically explicate from it respecting the nature of eminent cause +is indubitably true, for the same reason. In both cases we reason +validly, and demonstrate all that is demonstrable in the case. In the +first instance, we demonstrate what is really contained in the idea of +necessary being, and bring this idea--under the form of a distinct +conception--face to face with the reflective reason. In the second +instance, we demonstrate the order of the universe, and the +manifestation in it of divine power, wisdom and goodness. We +demonstrate that the theistic conception, or the conception of God and +his attributes, contained in Christian Theology, is that which we know +intuitively in the light of the primitive idea, logically explicated +and represented by analogy in language. What we do not demonstrate, is +the objective reality of the idea; for this is indemonstrable, as +being the first principle of all demonstration. The idea is +intelligible in itself, and illuminates the reason with intelligence. +The office of logic and reasoning is to inspect and scrutinize the +idea, to represent in reflection that which is intelligible. By this +process the idea of necessary being evolves itself, necessarily, into +the complete theistic conception of God, as is shown most amply in the +treatises of theologians and religious writers. [Footnote 94] We will +endeavor to sum up their results in as brief and universal a synopsis +as possible. + + [Footnote 94: It will be seen, therefore, that the arguments _a + priori_ and _a posteriori_ demonstrating the Christian doctrine of + God, as stated by the great Catholic Theologians, have not been + impugned, but, on the contrary, vindicated from the + misrepresentation of a more modern and less profound school of + philosophers.] + +Beginning at this point, real necessary being is in itself the +intelligible; we lay down first that which is most radical and +ultimate in the conception of the living, personal God and Creator; +namely, absolute, infinite _intelligence_. + +The absolute intelligible being must be absolute intelligent being. +The intelligible is only intelligible to intelligence. What is the +idea, or ideal truth or being, without an intelligent subject? What is +infinite idea, or infinite object of thought, without infinite +intelligent subject? That which is intelligible in itself necessarily, +absolutely, and infinitely, must necessarily be the terminating object +of intelligence equal to itself, that is infinite. This intelligence +cannot be created, for then it would be finite. It must be included in +absolute being. {525} Being includes in itself all that is. It +therefore includes intelligence. It contains in itself all that is +necessary to its own perfection. Its perfection as intelligible +requires its perfection as intelligent. Absolute being is therefore +infinitely intelligible and intelligent in its own nature and idea. It +is the intelligible being which is intelligent being, and only +intelligent spirit, which is in its very essence intelligence, can be +necessarily and infinitely intelligible; for only self-existent +infinite spirit has the absolute infinite activity necessary to +irradiate the light of the intelligible. The light of the intelligible +irradiates our created intelligence by an act which constitutes it +rational spirit. This act must be the act of supreme, absolute, +infinite intelligence. Whatever is in the creature, must be infinite +in the creator. The world of finite, intelligent spirits can only +proceed from an infinite, intelligent spirit, as first and eminent +cause. The sensible and physical world also is apprehended by our +reason as intelligible, and is intelligible, only in intelligent +cause; which throws open the vast and magnificent field of +demonstration from the order and harmony of nature. The intelligible +in the order of the finite, is a reflection of the intelligible in the +order of the infinite. The intelligible in the order of the infinite, +is the adequate object of infinite intelligence. The intelligible _in +se_ is identical with being in its plenitude; and being in plenitude +is necessarily infinite, intelligent spirit. [Footnote 95] + + [Footnote 95: Because, if we conceive of any essence that it is not + spiritual, we can conceive of one that is more perfect, namely, that + which has these two attributes; and if we conceive of one that is + finite in intelligence, we can conceive of one that is superior, or + has greater plenitude of being, until we reach the infinite. The + very conception of being in plenitude is being that excludes the + conception of the possibility of that which is greater than itself.] + +From this point the way is clear and easy to verify all that +theologians teach respecting the essential attributes of God. We have +merely to explicate the idea of intelligent spirit possessing being in +its plenitude. All that has being--that is, every kind of good and +perfection that the mind can apprehend in the divine essence by means +of creatures--must be attributed to God in the absolute and infinite +sense. We cannot grasp plenitude of being fully under one aspect or +form. We are obliged to discriminate and distinguish qualities or +attributes of being in God. But this is not by the way of addition or +composition of these attributes with the idea of the simple essence of +God. It is by the way of identification. Thus, being is identified +with the intelligible and with intelligence. All the attributes of God +are identified with each other and with his being. + +This is what is meant by saying that God is most simple being, _ens +simplicissimum_. The pure and simple idea of being contains in itself +every possible predicate: hence we can predicate nothing of it that +can add to it, or combine with it, to make a composite idea greater +than the idea of being in its simplicity. It comes to the same, when +we say that God is most pure act, _actus purissimus_, which merely +ascribes to him actual being in eternity to the utmost limit of +possibility, or to the ultimate comprehensibility of the idea of being +by the infinite intelligence of God. + +In the first place, then, we demonstrate the unity of God. There can +be but one infinite being. For the intelligible being of God is the +adequate object of his intelligence. Therefore there is no other +infinite, intelligible object of infinite intelligence. + +God is absolutely good. For his own being is the adequate object of +his volition, and the definition of good is adequate object of +volition, so that being is identical with good. + +God is all-powerful. For there is no intelligible idea of power, which +transcends the knowledge God has of his own being as including the +ability to create. + +God is infinitely holy. For the intellect and the will of God +terminate upon the same object, that is, upon his {526} own being, and +consequently agree with each other; and the very notion of the +sanctity of God is the perfect harmony of his intellect and will in +infinite good. + +God is immutable. For any change or progression implies a movement +toward the absolute plenitude of being, and is inconsistent with the +necessary and eternal possession of this plenitude. + +God is infinite and eternal; above all categories of limitation, +succession, time or space; for this is only to say that he is most +simple being, and most pure act. + +God is absolute truth and beauty, for these are identical with being. + +He is infinite love, for he is the infinite object of his own +intelligence comprehended as the term of his own volition. + +For the same reason, he is infinite beatitude, since beatitude simply +expresses the repose and complacency of intelligence and will in their +adequate object and is identical with love. + +God is an ocean of boundless, unfathomable good and perfection, to +whom everything must be attributed that can increase our mental +conception of his infinite being. We can go on indefinitely, +explicating this conception, and every proposition we can make which +contains the statement of anything positive and intelligible, is +self-evident; requiring no separate proof, but merely verification as +truly identifying something with the idea of being. "We shall say much +and yet shall want words; but the sum of our words is, HE IS ALL." +[Footnote 96] Nevertheless, our reason is not brought face to face +with God by any direct intuition or vision of his intimate, personal +essence. Every word, every conception, every thought expressing the +most complete and vivid act of the reflective consciousness on the +idea of God is derived from the creation, and gives only a speculative +and enigmatical representation of the being of God itself, as mirrored +in the perfections of created, contingent existences. Though we see +all things by its light, the sun itself, the original source of +intelligible light, is not within our rational horizon. The creation +is illuminated by it with the light of intelligibility, and by this +light we become spectators of the creative act of God. + + [Footnote 96: Ecclus. xiiii. 99.] + +The creative act is not a transient effort of power, but a durable, +continuous, ever-present act, by which God is always creating the +universe. The creation has its being not in itself but in God. All +that we witness therefore and come in contact with, is but the +radiation of light, life, truth, beauty, happiness; physical, mental, +and spiritual existence; from God, the source of being. We see the +architecture which proceeds from his mighty designs; we behold the +infinitely varied and ever shifting pictures and sculptures in which +he embodies his infinite idea of his own beauty. We hear the harmonies +that echo his eternal blessedness; the colossal machinery of worlds +plays regularly and resistlessly by the force which he communicates +around us; his signs, emblems, and hieroglyphics are impressed on our +senses; the perpetual affirmation of his being is always making itself +heard in the depth of our reason. The perpetual influx of creative +force from him is every instant giving life and existence to our body. +We breathe in it, and see by it, and move through its energy. It is +every instant creating our soul. When our soul first came out of +nothing into existence, it was created by a whisper of the divine +word, which simultaneously gave it existence and the faculty of +apprehending that whisper, by which it was made. God whispered in the +soul the affirmation of his own being as the author of all existence. +This whisper is perpetual, like the creative act. It constitutes our +rational life and activity. By its virtue we think and are conscious. +It concurs with every intellectual act. When the soul is stillest and +its contemplation of truth the most profound, then it is most +distinctly heard; but it cannot be drowned by any {527} tumult or +clamor. "In God we live, and move, and have our being." We float in +the divine idea as in an ocean. It meets us everywhere we turn. We +cannot soar above it, dive beneath it, or sail in sight of its coasts. +It is our rational element, in which our rational existence was +created, in which it was made to live, and we recognize it in the same +act in which we recognize our own existence. It is necessary to the +original act of self-consciousness, and enters into the indestructible +essence of the soul, as immortal spirit. + +The Creed, therefore, when it proposes its first article to a child +who is capable of a complete rational act, only brings him face to +face with himself, or with the idea of his own reason. It gives him a +distinct image or reflection of that idea, a sign of it, a verbal +expression for it, a formula by which his reflective faculty can work +it out into a distinct conception. As soon as it is fairly +apprehended, he perceives its truth with a rational certitude which +reposes in the intimate depths of his own consciousness. It is true +that he cannot arrange and express his conceptions, or distinctly +analyze for himself the operations of his own mind, in the manner +given above. This can only be done by one who is instructed in +theology. But although he is no theologian or philosopher, he has +nevertheless the substance of philosophy or _sapientia_, and of +theology, in his intellect; deeper, broader and more sublime than all +the measurements and signs of metaphysicians can express. We have +taken the child as creditive subject in this exposition, in order to +exhibit the ultimate rational basis of faith in its simplest act, and, +so to speak, to show its _genesis_. But we do not profess to stop with +this simple act which initiates the reason in its childhood into the +order of rational intelligence and faith; rather we take it as only +the terminus of starting in the prosecution of a thorough +investigation of the complete development which the intelligent faith +unfolds in the adult and instructed reason of a Christian fully +educated in theological science. Hence we have given the conception +God in its scientific form, but as the scientific form of that which +is certainly and indubitably apprehended in its essential substance by +every mind capable of making an explicit and complete act of rational +faith in God as the creator of the world. In the language of +Wordsworth, "The child is father of the man." A complete rational act +in a child has in it the germ of all science. He is as certain that +two and two make four, as is the consummate mathematician. A complete +act of faith in a child is as infallible as the faith of a theologian, +and has in it the germ of all theology. He is able to say "Credo in +Deum" with a perfect rational certitude; and this conclusion is the +goal toward which the whole preceding argument has been tending. + +But here we are met with a difficulty. The principle of faith cannot +itself fall under the dominion of faith, or be classed with the +_credenda_, which we believed on the veracity of God. How then can +_Credo_ govern _Deum_. The necessity for an intelligible basis for +faith has been established, and this basis located in the idea of God +evolved into a conception demonstrable to reason from its own +constitutive principles. It would therefore seem that instead of +saying "I believe in God," we ought to say "I know that God is, and is +the infinite truth in himself, therefore I believe," etc. only on you. + +This formula does really express a process of thought contained in the +act of faith, and implied in the signification of _Credo_. _Credo_ +includes in itself _intelligo_. Divine faith presupposes, and +incorporates into itself, human intelligence and human faith, on that +side of them which is an inchoate capacity for receiving its divine, +elevating influence. Hence the propriety of using the word _Credo_, +leaving _intelligo_ understood but not expressed. The symbol of faith +is not intended to express any object of our knowledge, {528} except +as united to the object of faith. For this reason it does not +discriminate in the proposition of the verity of the being of God, +that which is the direct object of intelligence, but presents it under +one term with those propositions concerning God which are only the +indirect object of intelligence through the medium of divine +revelation. When we say _Credo in Deum_, if we consider in _Deum_ only +that which is demonstrable by reason concerning God, the full sense of +_Credo_ is suspended, until the revelation of the superintellible +[sic] s introduced in the succeeding articles. The term _Deum_ +terminates _Credo_, only inasmuch as it is qualified by the succeeding +terms; that is, inasmuch as we profess our belief in God as the +revealer of the truths contained in the subsequent articles. + +The foregoing statement applies to the use of the word _Credo_ in +relation with _Deum_ in the first article of the Creed, taking _Credo_ +in its strictest and most exclusive sense of belief in revealed truths +which are above the sphere of natural reason. In addition to this, it +can be shown that there is a secondary and subordinate reason on +account of which the mental apprehension of that which is naturally +intelligible in God is included under the term faith, taken in a wider +and more extensive sense. + +This intelligible order of truth, or natural theology, was actually +communicated to mankind in the beginning, together with the primitive +revelation. We are, therefore, instructed in it, by the way of faith. +The conception of God, and the words which communicate to us that +conception, and enable us to grasp it, come to us through tradition, +and are received by the mind before its faculties are fully developed. +We believe first, and understand afterward; and the greater part of +men never actually attain to the full understanding of that which is +in itself intelligible, but hold it confusedly, accepting with +implicit trust in authority, many truths which the wise possess as +science. Moreover, the term faith is often used to denote belief in +any reality which lies in an order superior to nature and removed from +the sphere of the sensible, although that reality may be demonstrable +from rational principles. In a certain sense we may say that this +region of truth is a common domain of faith and reason. But we have +now approached that boundary line where the proper and peculiar empire +of faith begins, and like Dante, left by his human guide on the coasts +of the celestial world, we must endeavor under heavenly protection to +ascend to this higher sphere of thought. + +------ + +From Once a Week. + +THE KING AND THE BISHOP. + + Before Roskilde's sacred fane, + (The first the land has known.) + Attended by his courtier train, + And decked, as on his throne, + In costly raiment, glittering gay + Beneath the noon-day sun; + All fresh and fair, as though the day + Had seen no slaughter done-- + +{529} + + As though the all-beholding eye + Of that Omniscient Deity, + Whom, turning from the downward way + His heathen fathers trod, + He guided by a purer ray, + Hath chosen for his God-- + Had seen no darker, dreader sight, + Twixt yester morn and yester night, + + Beheld by his approving eye, + Who, now, would draw his altar nigh; + Ay, fresh and fair as to his soul + No taint of blood did cling, + As though in heart and conscience whole, + Stands Swend, the warrior-king. + + On his, as on a maiden's cheek, + (Though bearded and a knight,) + The royal hues of Denmark speak [Footnote 97]-- + The crimson and the white; + But mark ye how the angry hue + Keeps deepening, as he stands, + And mark ye, too, the courtly crew, + With lifted eyes and hands! + + [Footnote 97: The Danish king, Swend, soon after his entrance into + the Christian church, slew some of his "jaris" without a trial, + and, on presenting himself, after the commission of this crime, at + the portal of the newly-built cathedral of Roskilde, in Zealand, + found it barred by the pastoral staff of the English missionary + and bishop who had converted him. After receiving the rebuke given + in the poem, and forbidding his attendants to molest the bishop, + he returned whence he came, and shortly after, made his + reappearance in the garb of a penitent, when he was received by + the prelate, and, after a certain time of penance, absolved; after + which they became fast friends.] + + Across the portal, low and wide, + A slender bar from side to side. + The bishop's staff is seen; + And holding it, with reverent hands + And head erect, the prelate stands, + A man of stately mien. + + "Go back!" he cries, and fronts the king. + Whilst clear and bold his accents ring + Throughout the sacred fane-- + And Echo seems their sound to bring + Triumphant back again-- + "Go back, nor dare, with impious tread, + Into the presence pure and dread. + Thy guilty soul to bring, + Impenitent--O thou, who art + A murderer, though a king!" + A murmur, deepening to a roar, + 'Mid those who were clust'ring round the door: + A few disjointed but eager words-- + A sudden glimmer of naked swords; + And the bishop raised his longing eyes, + In speechless praise, to the distant skies; + +{530} + + For he thought his labor would soon be o'er. + And his bark at rest, on the peaceful shore; + And he pictured the crown, the martyrs wear, + Floating slowly down, on the voiceless air; + Till he almost fancied he felt its weight + On his brows--as he stood, and blessed his fate. + + With a calm, sweet smile on his face, he bowed + His reverend head to the raging crowd-- + (Oh! the sight was fair to see!) + And "Strike!" he cried, whilst they held their breath. + To hear his words; "For I fear not death + For him who has died for me!" + + King Swend looked up, with an angry glare, + At the dauntless prelate, who braved him there, + Though he deemed his hour near; + And he saw, with one glance of his eagle eye. + That that beaming smile and that bearing high + Were never the mask of fear! + + Right against might had won the day;-- + And he bade them sheathe their swords; then turned, + Whilst an angry spot on his cheek still burned, + From the house of God away. + + Ere the hour had winged its flight, once more, + Behold! there stood, at the temple door, + A suppliant form, with its head bowed down. + And ashes were there, for the kingly crown; + And the costly robes, which had made erewhile + So gallant a show in the sunbeams' smile. + Had been cast aside, ere its glow was spent, + For the sackcloth worn by the penitent! + + The bishop came down the crowded nave; + His smile was bright, though his face was grave, + He paused at the portal, and raised his eyes. + Yet another time to those sapphire skies, + But he thought not now, that the look he cast + To that radiant heaven would be his last; + And he thanked his Master again--but not + For the martyrdom that should bless his lot; + For the close to the day of life, whose sun + Was to set in blood, on his rest was won: + Far other than this was his theme of praise, + As he murmured: "O thou, in thy works and ways + As wonderful now as when Israel went + Through the sea, which is Pharaoh's monument: + Though I pictured death in the flashing steel, + And I looked for the glory it should reveal, + Yet oh! if it be, as it seems to be, + Thy will, that I stay to glorify thee, + To add to thy jewels, one by one; + Then, Father in heaven, that will be done!" + +{531} + + Then on the monarch's humbled brow + The kiss of peace he pressed. + And led him, as a brother, now, + A little from the rest-- + "Here, as is meet, thy penance do, + And as thy penitence is true, + So God will make it light! + Then mayst thou work with me, that thus + The light that he hath given us + May rise on Denmark's night!" + +M. T. F. + +------ + +Translated from Le Correspondant + +THE YOUTH OF SAINT PAUL. + + +By L'ABBE LOUIS BAUNARD. + + +At the time when Jesus Christ came into this world, the Jews were +scattered over the whole surface of the earth. From the narrow valley +in which their religious law had confined them for the designs of God, +these people of little territory had overflowed into all the provinces +of the Roman empire. Captivity had been the beginning of their +dispersion. Numerous Israelitish colonists, who had formerly settled +in the land of their exile, were still existing in Babylon, in Media, +even in Persia; others had pushed their way further on to the extreme +east, even as far as China. Finally, under the reign of Augustus, they +are found everywhere. [Footnote 98] + + [Footnote 98: V. Remond "Histoire de la Propagation du Judaisme," + Leipzig, 1789 Grost, "De Migrationibus Hebr. extra patriam," 1817. + Jost, "Histoire des Israélites depuis les Machabées," etc.] + +It was the solemn hour in which, according to the parable of the +gospel, the Father had gone forth to sow the seed. The field, "that is +the world," was filled with it already, and the time was not far +distant when the Lord, "seeing the countries ripe for the harvest," +would send out his journeymen to reap, and gather the wheat into his +barns. + +One of these families "_of the dispersion_," as they were styled, +inhabited the city of Tarsus in Cilicia. Of this once famous city +nothing now remains but a few ruins, and the modern Tarsous falls +vastly short of that high rank which the ancient Tarsus held among the +cities of the East. Even at present, however, it is called the capital +city of Caramania. Situated on a small eminence covered over with +laurels and myrtles, at a distance of about ten miles from the +Mediterranean sea, it is washed by the rapid and cold waters of the +Kara-sou, and its population during winter amounts to more than thirty +thousand souls. In summer it is almost a desert. Chased away by the +burning heats which prevail at this season from the sea-coast, men, +women and children abandon their homes and emigrate to the surrounding +heights, where they fix their camp under lofty cedars, which afford +them shelter, shade, and coolness. [Footnote 99] + + [Footnote 99: P. Belon, "Voyages"--cité dans Malte-Brun.] + +{532} + +It were difficult to draw, from what it is at present, an exact +picture of the ancient Tarsus. Instead of the sad, disconsolate look +of a Turkish city, there was then in it the movement, the ardor, the +splendor of the Greek city, proud of her politeness and her +recollections. According to Strabo, Tarsus was a colony of Argos. As a +proof of the high state of its culture, the Greeks related that the +companions of Triptolemus, perambulating the earth in search of Io, +stopped at that place, charmed by its richness and beauty. Others +traced its origin further back, to the old kings of Assyria. At one of +the gates of Tarsus there had been seen for a long time the tomb of +Sardanapalus with the following inscription under his statue: "I, +Sardanapalus, have built Tarsus in one day. Passenger, eat, drink, and +give thyself a good time; the rest is nothing." [Footnote 100] +History, however, has written there other remembrances. It was not far +from Tarsus that the intrepid Alexander had nearly perished in the icy +waters of the Cydnus. It was there upon the sea, at the entrance of +the river, that the memorable interview and the fatal alliance of +Antony and Cleopatra had just taken place in the midst of voluptuous +feasts. The wise providence that provides reparations for all our +pollutions, had chosen the city of a Sardanapalus and of an Antony to +be the cradle of St. Paul. + + [Footnote 100: Strabo, liv, xvi.] + +For the rest, Tarsus was a city perfectly well built and of remarkable +beauty. From the fertile hill on which she rested, she could +contemplate the direction toward the north and west of an undulating +line, which traced rather than hid the horizon. This was the outline +of the first ascending grades, of the mountains of Cilicia. At a short +distance from the city the waters of numerous living springs met +together and formed a rapid river, deeply enchased, which soon reached +and refreshed that portion of her which the historians call the +Gymnasium, and we would name the "Quarter of the schools." Further on +there was a harbor of peculiar and distinctly marked outline. +Philostratus has described in a striking and picturesque manner the +different habitudes of the men of traffic and of the literary class, +representing "the former as slaves to avarice, the latter to +voluptuousness. All their talk," says he, "consisted in reviling, +taunting, and railing at each other with sharp-biting words: whence +one might have easily seen that it was only in their dress they +pretended to imitate the Athenians, but not in prudence and +praiseworthy habits. They did nothing else all day but walk up and +down on the banks of the river Cydnus, which runs across this city, as +if they were so many aquatic birds, passing their time in frolicsome +levities, inebriated, so to speak, with the pleasing delectation of +those sweet-flowing waters." [Footnote 101] + + [Footnote 101: Philostrate, "De la Vie d'Apollonius Thyanéan + traduction de Blaise de Vigenère," liv. iv. ch. ix. p. 103,104. + Paris, 1611.] + +Such, then, was the city in which a vast multitude of young men, +elegant, voluptuous and witty, crowded and pressed each other like a +swarm of bees, for Tarsus was the most brilliant intellectual focus of +that time and country. The following is the description of it, given +by Strabo: "She carries to such a height the culture of arts and +sciences, that she surpasses even Athens and Alexandria. The +difference between Tarsus and these two cities is, that in the former +the learned are almost all indigenous. Few strangers come hither; and +even those who belong to the country do not sojourn here long. As soon +as they have completed the course of their studies in the liberal +arts, they emigrate to some other place, and very few of them return +to Tarsus afterward." + +The best masters regarded it as an honor to teach in the schools of +this city of arts. There were in it such grammarians as Artemidorus +and Diodorus; such brilliant poets and professors {533} of eloquence +as Plutiades and Diogenes; such philosophers of the sect of the stoics +as the two Athenodori; of whom the first had been Cato's friend in +life, and his companion in death, and the second had been the +instructor of Augustus, who, in token of gratitude, appointed him +governor of Tarsus. For, it was the fate of this learned city to be +under the administration of men of letters, and of philosophers. She +had been ruled by the poet Boethus, the favorite of Antony. Nestor, +the Platonic philosopher, had also governed her. It is easily seen, +however, that such men are better prepared for speculations in +science, than for the administration of public affairs, so that, in +their hands, Tarsus felt more than once those intestine commotions, of +which cities of schools have never ceased to be the theatre. + +It was in this city, and under these circumstances, almost upon the +frontiers of Europe and Asia, in the very heart of a great +civilization, that St. Paul was born, about the twenty-eighth year of +Augustus' reign, two years before the birth of Christ. [Footnote 102] +He himself informs us that he was a _Jew_ of the tribe of Juda, +[Footnote 103] born in the _Greek_ city of Tarsus, and a _Roman_ +citizen: so that by parentage, by education, and by privilege, he +belonged to the three great nations who bore rule over the realm of +thought and of action. The grave historian [Footnote 104] who +exhausts the catalogue of the illustrious men of Tarsus, never +suspected what man--very differently illustrious--had just appeared +there, and of what a revolution he was to become the zealous defender +as well as the martyr. + + [Footnote 102: This would be so, if St. Paul lived to the age of + sixty-eight years, as is stated in a Homily of St. John Chrysostom, + vol. vi. of his complete works.] + + [Footnote 103: Benjamin. See Rom. xi 1.--Ep. C. W.] + + [Footnote 104: Strabo, liv. xiv] + +The Jewish origin of the Doctor of Nations was, as is easily +understood, of vast importance for fulfilment of the designs of God. +The religion of Jesus Christ proceeds from Judaism, continues and +perfects it. It was, therefore, well worthy of the wisdom of God that +his apostles should belong to the one as well as to the other +covenant, and that he should thus extend his hand to all ages, as he +was to extend it to all men. + +This purity of origin was so considerable a privilege, that it is by +it one may account to one's self for the rage and fury with which the +Ebionite Jews in the first age of our era labored to deprive him of +it. Adhering to the last rubbish of the law of Moses, and, for this +reason, irreconcilable enemies to the great apostle of the Gentiles, +these sectarians maliciously invented the following fable, according +to the relation of St. Epiphanius. [Footnote 105] "They say that he +was a Greek, that his father was a Greek as well as his mother. Having +come to Jerusalem in his youth, he had sojourned there for a certain +time. Having there known the daughter of the high priest, he had +desired to have her for his wife; and to this end he had become a +Jewish proselyte. As he could not, however, obtain the young maiden +even at that price, he had conceived a burning resentment, and +commenced to write against the circumcision, the sabbath, and the +law." It seems to me that St. Epiphanius confers too great an honor +upon this romance, by merely exposing and refuting it. + + [Footnote 105: "Adv. Haeret" liv. ii. t. i. p. 140, No. xvi.] + +I know on what foundation St. Jerome affirms, on the contrary, that +St. Paul was a Jew not only by descent, but also by the place of his +birth. According to him, St. Paul's parents dwelt in the small town of +Girchala in Juda, when the Roman invasion compelled them to seek for +themselves a home somewhere else. Therefore they took their son, yet +an infant, with them, and fled to Tarsus, where they remained, waiting +for better days. [Footnote 106] + + [Footnote 106: "De Viris Illustrib. Catalog. Script. Eccles." t. i. + p.849] + +The declaration of St. Paul himself, however, allows no doubt to be +{534} entertained as to his origin. Born in Tarsus, he was circumcised +there on the eighth day after his birth, and received the name of +Saul, which he exchanged afterward for that of Paul, probably at the +time when Sergius Paulus had been converted by him to the Christian +faith. + +His parents failed not to instruct him in the law; for, how distant +soever from their mother country might have been the place in which +they lived, the Jews did not cease to render to the God of their +fathers worship, more or less pure, but faithful. Like all other great +cities of the Roman empire, Tarsus had her synagogue where the Law was +read, and where the religious interests of the Israelitic people were +discussed. It was there that prayers were solemnly made with the face +turned toward the holy city: for there was no temple anywhere but in +Jerusalem, whither numerous and pious caravans from all the countries +of Asia went every year to celebrate in Sion the great festivals of +the Passover and Pentecost, to pay there the double devotion, and +present their victims. The bond of union was thus fastened more firmly +than ever between the colonies and the metropolis, in which great +things were soon expected to take place. Jerusalem was not only the +country of memorials, but to Jewish hearts she was also the land of +hope, and every eye was turned toward the mountain whence salvation +was to come. + +Saul grew up in Tarsus. We must not seek in the youth of Saul for +those signs which reveal in advance a great man. In individuals of +this sort, devoted to the work of God, all greatness is from him, the +instrument disappearing in the hand of the divine artificer. Whatever +illusion iconography may have impressed us with upon the point, Saul +did not carry, either in stature of body or in beauty of features, the +reflection of his great soul, and at first sight the world saw in him +only an insignificant person, as he himself testifies, "_aspectus +corporis infirmus_," Beside, he was a man of low condition, exercising +a trade, and earning his daily bread by the sweat of his face. The +rabbinical maxims said that, "not to teach one's son to work, was the +same thing as to teach him to steal." Saul was, therefore, a workman, +and everything leads us to believe that he, who was to carry light to +nations, passed, like his master, the whole of his obscure youth in +hard work. He made tents for the military camps and for travellers. +This was an extensive industry in the East; and a great trade in these +textures was carried on in Tarsus with the caravans starting from the +ports of Cilicia and journeying though Armenia, Persia, the whole of +Asia Major, and beyond. [Footnote 107] + + [Footnote 107: These conjectures and regard to St. Paul's birth and + parentage are not founded on any solid basis, but on the contrary + appear to be quite improbable. The author's citation from the + Rabbinical maxims overturns the argument which he derives from the + fact that St. Paul practised a handicraft. All Jews, whatever their + birth or wealth, learned a trade. St. Paul's knowledge of the + tent-maker's trade, therefore, does not prove that he was of low + birth, or belonged to the class of artisans. On the contrary, his + possession of the privileges of Roman citizenship, which he must + have inherited, and which could only have been conferred on account + of some great service rendered to the state by one of his ancestors, + together with his thorough education, go to show that he belonged to + one of the most eminent Jewish families of Tarsus.--Ed. C.W.] + +Manual occupation, however, did not absorb the whole time, nor the +whole soul of the young Israelite; since the tradition of the fathers +points to him as frequenting the schools of Tarsus, and joining that +studious swarm of young civilians who crowded there to attend the +lectures delivered by the professors of science and literature. +[Footnote 108] His Epistles retain some traces of these his first +studies. In these he quotes now and then words of the ancient poets, +Menander, Aratus, Epimenides. He expressed himself with equal facility +in the three great languages of the civilized world, the Hebrew, the +Greek, and the Latin; and it is manifest that he knew the secrets of +the art of eloquence, for which he {535} retained in later times only +a magnanimous contempt. He was also initiated in philosophy, under the +teachers whom I have named already. Besides Stoicism, whose patrons +and success in Tarsus I have mentioned, Platonism flourished there +under the protection of Nestor, a man of great distinction, who had +been the preceptor of that illustrious youth Marullus, who was sung by +Virgil, and bewailed by Augustus. Is it not, at this period, that a +young man of Tyana, himself destined to acquire a strange celebrity, +came to Tarsus in his fourteenth year, and passionately embraced there +the precepts of Pythagorean doctrine? The uncertainties of the +history, which was written by Philostratus afterward, do not permit us +to say anything definite upon this point; but one cannot help thinking +that it is from the same place, and at the same time, that those two +extremes of the power of good and of the power of evil have set +out--Apollonius of Tyana, and Saint Paul. + + [Footnote 108: Sancte Hieronymi, t. vi. 322.--"Comm. Epist. ad + Galat."] + +Finally, not far from there the oriental doctrines drove to their +several beliefs respectively the multitudes of Asia, and invaded also +the Greek cities of Asia Minor and the Islands. Thus Parsism on the +one hand, and Hellenism on the other, met in Tarsus with Judaism. By +its position, as well as by its commerce, the birthplace of St. Paul +was the point of confluence of the two currents of ideas, which shared +the world between themselves. From this centre the future apostle was +able to embrace in one view all those different sorts of minds which +he was to embrace in his zeal afterwards. + +Such were his beginnings. In them Saul plays an insignificant part; +but God a great one; God does not act openly as yet; he prepares. But +what preparation! What a concurrence of circumstances manifestly +providential! What greatness even in this obscurity! The seal of +predestination is visibly impressed upon that soul appointed to +regenerate the world by the faith. The place, the time, the means, +everything seems disposed, consecrated in advance, as it were, for a +great scene. God incarnate was to fill it, but he had chosen Saul of +Tarsus to be in it the actor most worthy of him. + +II. + +The second education of Saul took place in Jerusalem. He was yet young +when his parents, yielding to that instinct which recalled the Jews to +their native country, sent him, or, perhaps, went and took him with +themselves, to the holy city, in order to fix their residence there. + +There occur in history some solemn epochs; but that in which Saul +arrived at Jerusalem possesses a consecration which cannot belong to +any but to itself alone: it was what St. Paul called, afterward, "the +fulness of the times." The seventy weeks determined by Daniel, entered +then into the last phasis of their accomplishment. The sceptre had +been taken away from Judah, and, at a few steps from the temple, a +centurion, with the vine-stock in his hand, quietly walked around the +residence of a Roman proconsul. People were waiting to see from what +point the star of Jacob was to appear. It had risen already, and the +young workman of Tarsus, while going to Jerusalem, might have met on +his way with a workman like himself, who, sitting at the foot of some +unknown hill, preached in parables to the people of his own country +and of his condition. This was in fact taking place under the second +Herod. Saul was then twenty-nine years old, and the Word made flesh +dwelt among us full of grace and truth. + +Did Saul have the happiness to see his divine Master during his mortal +life? Grave historians formally affirm it, [Footnote 109] and some +passages in the Epistles allow us to believe it. Others think {536} +that what they refer to is only the vision on the road to Damascus. + + [Footnote 109: Alzog, "Histoire Universelle de l'Eglise," t. i. p. 157.] + +But, whatever may be the difference of opinions upon this point, it +appears impossible that the fame of Jesus' teaching and miracles did +not reach the ears of Saul, while living in Judea: it is even probable +that Saul might have endeavored to see him. "We have known the Christ +according to the flesh," he himself wrote to the Corinthians. +[Footnote 110] This last testimony leaves yet some doubt as to the +interpretation; but, when one reflects on the repeated utterance of +these expressions, as well as upon the coincidence of dates and names, +one cannot help starting at the thought, that on some unknown hour the +God and the apostle must have met, and that Jesus, piercing into the +future, bestowed on the youth that deep and tender look which he gave +the young man spoken of in the Gospel; and that the Pharisee, who was +to become a vessel of election, then condemned himself to the regret +of having that day neglected and mistaken the blessed God, of whom he +was afterward to say in that language invented by love, "_Mihi vivere +Christus est_," "For me to live, is Christ." + + [Footnote 110: 1 Cor. ix. 1 and 2 Cor. v. 16] + +When Saul entered Jerusalem for the first time, the pious Israelite +must doubtless have been astonished and saddened at the same time. +Herod the Ascalonite had rendered her, according to Pliny's testimony, +the most magnificent city of the East; but by the profane character of +her embellishments, she had lost much of her holy originality. The +prince courtier had erected near by a circus and a theatre, where +festivals in honor of Augustus were celebrated every fifth year. He +had repaired and transformed the temple, but also profaned it; and +over the principal gate of the holy place one saw the glitter of the +golden eagle of Rome and of Jupiter, a double insult to religion and +liberty. Jerusalem was likely to become a Roman city; her part was on +the point of being played out; her priesthood was expiring, she began +to cast off its insignia, and one saw the line gradually disappear +which separated her from the cities of paganism. + +Beside, Saul found her torn in pieces by religious sects which had in +these latter times fastened to the body of Judaism, as parasitical +plants stick to the trunk of an old tree. Religious opinion was +divided between the Pharisees and the Sadducees. I speak not of the +Herodians, for in the order of ideas flatteries are not taken into +account, for this reason--because to flatter is not to dogmatize. +Sadduceeism, a sort of Jewish Protestantism, rejected all tradition; +would admit of nothing but the text of the Pentateuch; denied an +after-life because it was not found formally enough inculcated by +Moses, and consequently endeavored to make this present one as +comfortable as possible. It was Epicureanism under the mask of +religion. Pharisaism, on the contrary, was the double reaction both in +religion and nationality. In order to enhance the law, it multiplied +practices and rites; in order to save the dogma, it burdened it with +an oral tradition, to serve as a commentary, an interpreter, and a +supplement to the law. Under the name of Mishna, this tradition +proceeded, according to her account, from secret instructions of Moses +himself, and composed a kind of sacred science, of which the doctors +only possessed the key. + +The sect of the Pharisees was, on the other hand, the great political +as well as doctrinal power of the nation. The people venerated them, +the inces [sic] treated them with regard, and Josephus informs us that +Alexander Jannacus, being at the point of death, spoke of them to his +wife in the following manner: "Allow the Pharisees a greater liberty +than usual; for they," he told her, "would, for the favor conferred on +them, reconcile the nation to her interest; that they had a powerful +influence over the Jews, and were in {537} a capacity to prejudice +those they hated and serve those they loved." [Footnote 111] + + [Footnote 111: "Antiq.," liv. xili. eh, xv. p. 565.] + +The Young Saul enrolled himself with the Pharisees: among them, +however, he chose his school. Being sensible of the fact that foreign +ideas were insinuating themselves into the bosom of Judaism, some +choice minds were at this epoch in search of I know not what +compromise between Moses's doctrine and philosophy, in which +compromise the two elements might be fused together, and thus form a +religion at the same time rational and mystic. This fusion is one of +the signs by which this period is distinguished. Uneasy and attentive, +every mind was laboring under the want of a universality and unity of +belief, whose painful child-birth, twenty times miscarried, was yet +submitted to without relaxation. One hundred and fifty years before +the epoch we are now in, Aristobulus had attempted this eclecticism, +and Philo was soon after to reduce it to system in Alexandria and give +it a widely spread popularity in Egypt. Another man, however, took +upon himself the business of planting it in the very heart of +Palestine. + +This man was the famous rabbi Gamaliel, the beloved teacher of Saint +Paul. It must be admitted that no man could be better qualified to +render it acceptable than he was, on account of his position and +character. He was the grandson of Doctor Hillel, whose science as well +as his consideration and holiness he had inherited. He was the oracle +of his time, and "on his death," the Talmud says, "the light of the +law was extinguished in Israel." The Talmudists add that he had been +vested with the title of _Nasi_, or chief of the council, and the +Gospel agrees with the Jewish authors, recognizing in him a just man, +wise, moderate, impartial, an enemy to violence, and ruling the +different parties by a moral greatness, which secured to him the +confidence of all and the unanimity of their regards. He was the first +who caused the text of the Bible to be read in Greek at Jerusalem. +This innovation was of itself an immense progress, as it removed that +barrier which Pharisaism had raised between the _Hellenist_ and the +_Judaizing_ Jews. He dreamed not, however, of transforming Moses into +a Socrates. He gave up nothing of pure Judaism. But, having a thorough +knowledge of the Greek, Oriental and Egyptian philosophies, he held +them all in check; he took out of each of them what could be +reconciled with the law of God, enriched with it the inheritance of +tradition, and boldly applying to ideas that generous and +accommodating toleration which he made use of in social life, he +allowed them entrance into the Synagogue. [Footnote 112] + + [Footnote 112: Niemeyer, "Characteristik der Bibel," p. 638.] + +Gamaliel, it seems, kept in Jerusalem what certain authors call an +academy. It was frequented, for men of such a character possess a +great power of attraction. Young Israelites brought to his feet, and +placed at his disposal, for the service of his and their ideas, the +intemperate zeal and warm convictions of their age--Christian +tradition acquaints us with the names of some of them; among others, +of Stephen and Barnabas, whom we shall soon see disciples of a greater +master. [Footnote 113] But the most ardent of them all was, without +contradiction, the young Saul of Tarsus. Proud, fiery, enthusiastic, +he seems to have been passionately fond of the Pharisaism of Gamaliel, +but mixing with the zeal a violent asperity which, certainly, he had +not from his master. No man could be more attached, than he was, to +the ancient traditions; it is himself who says so, adding that his +proficiency in the interpretation of the law placed him at the head of +the men of his time. [Footnote 114] + + [Footnote 113: Cornel. a Lapide, in Act. v. 34.] + + [Footnote 140: See Epist. to the Galatians, i. 14.] + +These Jewish as well as these Greek studies were not lost time in the +education of the apostle. They {538} made Saul sensible of the +pressing need of a revealer which the world was then laboring under; +and they caused those groanings to reach his ears from all parts, +which he himself called the groaning of creation in childbed of her +redeemer. They did also reveal to him, seeing the inability of sects +for it, that redemption could not be the work of man, and they left in +his mind that haughty contempt of human wisdom, which would be +despair, if God had not come to reveal a better one possessing the +promises both of this world and of the next. + +Now, whilst young Saul and the Jewish rabbins were agitating these +questions in the dust of schools and synagogue, our Lord Jesus Christ +was giving the solution of them in his own life and by his death. His +death was even more fruitful than his life, and when the Pharisees +believed they had put an end to his doctrine, as they had to his life, +it was a great surprise to them to see twelve fishermen, wholly +unknown the day before, suddenly appear, preaching that the Son of God +had risen from the dead, that they had seen him gloriously ascending +into heaven, and that, in order to give testimony of it to the world, +they were ready and would be happy to die. Their miracles, their +doctrine, the conversions which they wrought by multitudes, their +baptism conferred on thousands of disciples, the enthusiasm of some, +the perplexity of others, the hatred of many, stirred up the +politicians and the magistrates. The great council met under these +circumstances. It seems that there was held in it a decisive +deliberation, in which the destinies of Christianity were solemnly +discussed. The question was to know, whether the new religion should +be drowned in blood, or whether it should be allowed the liberty and +time of dying by a natural death. It did not occur to any one's +thought that it could live; and much less that it could be true: and +it is remarkable that not a word was said on the doctrinal question, +the most important of all! Thus some of them advised to put those men +to death, others feared lest violence should excite a sedition, and +there was division of counsel in the assembly, when Gamaliel rose up +in it. Silence followed, the Scripture relates, because he was the +sage of the nation. He made no speech. He cited only the names of some +seditious men very well known in the city, the false prophet Theodas, +and Judas of Galilee, who, after a little noise, had left no trace +behind them. Hence he concluded that the new religion would have the +same fortune if it was from man, and that if it was, on the contrary, +the work of God, it would prove invincible against all human efforts. +His advice appeared for a moment to prevail, on account of its wisdom; +and the apostles, confiding in the future, readily accepted the +challenge. + +God had other designs in regard to his church, and it was not peace +but war that he had come to bring with him. Wisdom had decided; +passion executed. After reciting the advice of Gamaliel, the Scripture +adds that, before being dismissed, the Apostles were scourged, and +that "they went from the presence of the council rejoicing that they +were accounted worthy to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus." The +signal had thus been given, and a pure victim was about to open the +era of the martyrs. + +We have thus far related only the human history of St. Paul. We now +begin to enter into his supernatural and divine history. + +Saul had put himself at the head of those who persecuted the +Christians. Hence it is that the Scripture represents him to us as +laying everything waste, like a rapacious wolf, spreading +consternation amidst the flock. His very name was terror to the newly +born church; above all the others, however, one Christian roused his +jealous rancor. + +It was a young man whose name I have already mentioned, and who is +believed to have been of the same {539} country with Saul, and his +relative. [Footnote 115] He was called Stephanos, which we have +modified into Stephen. + + [Footnote 115: Corn. a Lapide, in Act. Apost. vi. 18.] + +Stephen, as everything indicates, was a Greek, and of the number of +those who were then called Hellenistic Jews. In all probability, he +belonged to that synagogue of Cilicians of which Saul, his friend and +countryman, must likewise have been a member. Some of the ancients +have even believed that he also belonged to the school of Gamaliel; +and this is confirmed by the old tradition, which makes the remains of +the great rabbin and those of the first martyr rest in the same grave. +[Footnote 116] All these relations between Stephen and Saul, who +persecuted him, are worthy of being taken into account. They throw a +great light over those events, and define with precision the +circumstances of which they give the key. + + [Footnote 116: "Inventio Corporis S. Stephani, Visio S. Luciani," + viii. te ix.] + +The same tradition has taken a pleasure in surrounding the young +neophyte with every gift and accomplishment that could make him a most +precious victim. The memory which the fathers have preserved of +Stephen is that of a youth of rare beauty, in the flower of his age, +endowed with wonderful eloquence, and with a candor of soul yet more +charming. + +"He was a virgin," St. Augustine says of him, "and this purity of +heart reflecting upon his features imparted to his face an angelic +expression." St. John Damascene speaks in the same strain of that +excellent nature which "made the light of grace shine with more +brilliant lustre." Such souls are very near to Christianity. Stephen +had become a Christian. St. Epiphanius affirms that he was such during +the life of Jesus Christ, and that he was one of the seventy-two +disciples. [Footnote 117] St. Augustine doubts of it. [Footnote 118] + + [Footnote 117: "Haer." 21.] + + [Footnote 118: Sermo xciv. "De Diversis."] + +What we are informed of in the Book of the Acts concerning this point +is, that moved by "a murmuring of the Greeks against the Hebrews for +that their widows were neglected in the daily ministration," the +apostles caused seven men of that nation to be chosen, whom they +"appointed over that business." The first named (and perhaps the most +preëminent) among them was Stephen, characterized by the inspired +historian as "a man full of faith and of the Holy Ghost." + +This conversion raised storms in the bosom of the synagogue; and as +St. Paul, according to his own account, occupied a preëminent rank +among the young men of that time, it was easy for him no doubt to +breathe his own burning flame into them. + +Besides, everything announced a violent crisis, and the whole city +experienced that agitation and anxiety which, in troubled times, +precede and portend a near commotion and a desperate struggle. As the +disciples had not yet been outlawed, as they did not even have any +peculiar name which distinguished them from the rest of the people, +and their religious belief enjoyed as yet its freedom, they joined +everywhere the Jewish assemblies, instilled there their doctrine, +taught even in the temple, where they went to pray like the rest. But +a deep-rooted dissension, pregnant with tempests, was growing in the +heart of every synagogue. These were most numerous at Jerusalem, as it +is said that well-nigh five hundred different ones were there in +existence, each people possessing their own, about in the same manner +as now in the city of Rome every Catholic nation possesses her proper +church, for her own use, and in her own name. The synagogue of the +Cilicians, is expressly mentioned in the holy Scripture and signalized +as one of the most disturbed, and most opposed to the new sect. +[Footnote 119] Interpreters are of opinion that it was there Saul and +the deacon Stephen met together in the midst of other Asiatic Jews, +their countrymen, {540} hot-headed and subtle, as are all of that +country. [Footnote 120] They were of the same age, according to +computations made for the purpose, and of equal learning; but +Stephen's eloquence had no rival! It was, the Acts say, something at +once sweet and powerful, that attracted by its grace, and bore away +the soul by its force. One felt in it a higher spirit, it is said, and +it was in vain that disputants from all the synagogues arose against +Christ and his faith; none could resist that word, "full of wisdom and +of the Holy Ghost." Some Greek copies add that he "reprehended the +Jews with such an assurance that it was impossible not to see the +truths which he announced." + + [Footnote 119: Act. vi. 9] + + [Footnote 120: Dom Calmet, "Comm. sur les Actes," vi. 9.] + +His words gave displeasure on account of this freedom; as they could +not refute him they soon resolved to calumniate him, waiting for a +pretext to get rid of him. Witnesses were found; they are found +everywhere. Stephen had preached that a more perfect worship was about +to take the place of the worship of Moses, that the glory and the +reign of the temple were soon to have an end, and that a better +Jerusalem of larger destinies, was on the point of being built. It was +but too easy to turn these words from their spiritual meaning, and +convert them into threats against the city and the people. A purely +moral and peaceful revolution was a thing, on the other hand, so +entirely novel in the history of the world, that one would have +naturally persisted in confounding it with a political and civil +revolution. It was this gross and voluntary mistake that had furnished +the text to the pretended lawsuit against our Lord Jesus Christ; it +was equally the foundation of that which his disciples have been +subjected to. To these accusations they took care to add that Stephen +intended to change the ancient traditions, which thing in the eyes of +the Pharisees was decisive. + +The young deacon was therefore brought before the high-priest, that +same Caiaphas by whom Jesus had suffered. When the accusers had been +heard, the pontiff requested Stephen to answer them: "Are these things +so?" + +He rose up, and as soon as he could be seen, the book of the Acts +observes, all the eyes in the assembly were fixed on him. Did he have +already a glimpse of the martyr's crown, and did this vision +transfigure him in advance? I know not, but it is said that his face +appeared to their eyes as the face of on angel. "It was," says St. +Hilary of Aries, "the flame of his heart overspreading itself upon his +forehead; the candor of his soul was reflected on his features in a +perfect beauty; and the Holy Ghost residing in Stephen's heart threw +upon his face a jet of supernatural light." + +The speech of Stephen was simple, but peremptory. To those who charged +him with breaking off from the religion of his fathers, he opposed at +the very beginning a long profession of faith from the books of Moses. +But the question relating to the temple, whose fall he had foretold, +was more serious. He viewed it firmly. He did not retract himself; but +presently rising from the region of facts to that of superior +principles which facts obey, he began to demonstrate that a material +temple is nowise necessary to the honor of God. As a proof of this he +pointed back to the times in which the patriarchs made their prayers +on the top of the high places; when the Lord manifested his presence +in a flame of fire in a bush; and when the Hebrew people carried +through the desert the tabernacle, which was the sanctuary and the +altar at the same time. When he had come to the time of the first +temple he concluded, and his discourse suddenly assumed the character +of a vivid and eloquent exaltation. Elevating himself from the +imperfection of a national worship to the ideal of a universal and +spiritual one, which would {541} have its sanctuary chiefly within +man's soul, he said: "Yet the Most High dwelleth not in houses made by +hands, as the prophet saith: 'Heaven is my throne, and the earth my +footstool; what house will you build me, saith the Lord, or what is +the place of my resting? Hath not my hand made all these things?" + +Such a harangue was a manifesto. He did not abolish every temple, nor +every worship, as some people are pleased to insinuate; but he erased +at a single stroke the exclusive privilege of the temple of Jerusalem, +he extended it's boundaries, and for the old Jewish monopoly +substituted the catholicity of a new church, as large as the world. + +The Jews understood him too well. They were already trembling with +rage against him, when, from the accused becoming the accuser, Stephen +charged them with the murder of the prophets, and principally with +that of the God, our Saviour, whom they had crucified. "You have +received the law by the disposition of angels," he said to them, "and +have not kept it." On hearing these words, their rage, incapable of +longer restraint, burst out; "they were cut to the heart, and they +gnashed with their teeth at him," as the Acts relate. Stephen felt +that his last hour was at hand. + +The Holy Ghost filled him as it were with a holy rapture. He looked +steadfastly to heaven, where the glory of God began to shine on him, +and there, in the midst of that glory, recognizing and saluting Jesus +Christ, who extended his hand to him, "Behold," he exclaimed, "I see +the heavens opened, the Son of Man standing on the right hand of God." +These words sealed his doom. On hearing him, the Jews, shaking with +horror, "cried out with a loud voice, stopped their ears, and with one +accord ran violently upon him," as wild beasts do on their prey. + +No judgment was passed on him. A text in the book of Deuteronomy +allowed any one to be put to death, who enticed the people into +idolatry. This summary justice sometimes tolerated by the Roman +pro-consul, was termed the _judgment of zeal_. To apply this +_judgment_ to the young deacon, was found more convenient than to go +through the formalities of a regular sentence; and they seized him to +put him to death. By a last relic of Pharisaism, however, they took +care to observe the practices of the law, even in such an arbitrary +and cruel deed. To the end, therefore, that the holy city should not +be stained with blood, the innocent victim was "cast forth without" +the walls of Jerusalem. + +They went out by the northern gate along that side which leads to +country of Kedar. At the west of the valley crossed by the Kedron, on +a desolate places and at the right of the distant mountains of Galaad, +the crowd stopped. The witnesses began by raising their hands over the +head of Stephen, which was the rite of devoting a victim to death; +then stones innumerable, as thick as hail, fell upon him. The +atrocious deed went on with unrelenting fury, and the body of the +heroic martyr was now noting but a wound; but he held his eyes +immovably fixed on that celestial vision, and as life was gradually +receding from his breast, he was ever "invoking and saying, Lord +Jesus, receive my spirit!" + +The Acts of the Apostles conclude this narrative, with giving us the +name of the person who was the most noted accomplice in this murder: +"_Saulus autem erat consentiens neci ejus_." + +St. Luke, the disciple of St. Paul, says nothing further concerning +his master in this business. But St. Paul came afterward, who, humbly +giving a public testimony of his cruel error, denounced himself as the +instigator of that iniquity. "When the blood of Stephen was shed," he +said one day to the Jews, "I was the first, and over the others," +_Super ad stabam_. [Footnote 121] It is the sense of the Greek text. +Had {542} he for such a thing a mandate of the Sanhedrim, as we shall +soon see him vested with full powers against the brethren of Damascus? +Everything would make one believe so. The fathers and commentators +say, it was for this reason that he kept the garments of those men of +blood: and they, in fact, show us those murderers as going the one +after the other, deferentially to lay their garments at the feet of +Saul, as an homage, so to speak, paid to him, from whom they had the +power and the command to strike. + + [Footnote 121: Act. xxii. 20.] + +Stephen saw him, and revenged himself in his way--the divine way. At +the point of death, covered with blood, he lowered his eyes to the +earth for the last time, and sadly resting them on his persecutors, +perhaps he saw through their impious crowd one of them apart, more +furious than the rest. He was moved to compassion for his soul; and +then it was that "falling on his knees, he cried with a loud voice," +not of anger, but of grace, and said: "Lord, lay not this sin to their +charge." He rose no more, and so saying, Stephen "fell asleep in the +Lord." + +He could sleep in peace, indeed, for he had just made a magnificent +conquest. "If Stephen had not prayed," St. Augustine says, "the church +had not won St Paul; the martyr fell, the Apostle rose." [Footnote +122] These substitutions are the most mysterious secrets of +Providence. By an admirable law of a bond _in solido_, of fraternity +and of love, God has willed that we, like himself, can, at the price +of a little blood, or even of some tears, pay the ransom of souls, and +secure to them a future for which they are indebted to us. He has +permitted that the life and the death of Christians, like those of +their Master, should be a redemption, completing the great redemption +of Calvary, according to the saying of St. Paul himself. Coloss. i. 24 + + [Footnote 122: St. Aug. Sermo 1. "De Sanctis."] + +It was meant that this should be the first apostleship of all, and the +most fruitful. In the midst of scaffolds, ever full of victims, and +the catacombs which incessantly recruited new children of God, +Tertullian proclaimed that "the blood of the martyrs was a seed of +Christians." He gave thus form to a beautiful law, which the blood of +Stephen, after the blood of God himself, had before inaugurated. The +soul of Saul, therefore, was that day a conquered soul. It is in vain +that on the road to Damascus he struggles and "kicks against the +goad:" he is under the yoke of God; he carries a mark of blood on him +which points him out, and which saves him; and Jesus, whenever he +will, has only to show himself to throw him down and make him obey. +This is admirable. Moses had written in the book of Leviticus, "The +priest shall command him that is to be purified to offer for himself +two living sparrows which it is lawful to eat, . . . . and he shall +command one of the sparrows to be immolated, . . . . but the other +that is alive he shall dip . . . . in the blood of the sparrow that is +immolated; . . . . and he shall let go the living sparrow, that it may +fly into the field." (Levit xiv. 4-7.) It was according to this rite +that the transaction was accomplished. Stephen had been the chosen +victim; and when Saul had covered himself with his redeeming blood, +that blood set him free: he had no more to do but to spread his wings, +and to start on his flight. + +------ + +{543} + + +From Chambers's Journal + +THE CUCKOO AND THE NIGHTINGALE. + + +Our oldest poet, and almost our best, unites in one sweet song the +cuckoo and the nightingale--the former to be chidden, and spoken of +despitefully; the latter to be made the theme of fervent praise, as +the singer and harbinger of love. Taken altogether, the cuckoo, in +fact, is far from being an attractive bird. Somehow, it has in all +countries been regarded as a symbol of matrimonial infidelity, +probably because it introduces itself into and defiles the nests of +other, birds. Shakespeare, who loved to make eternal the fancies and +prejudices of mankind, exclaims: + + "Cuckoo! cuckoo! O word of fear! + Unpleasing to a married ear!" + +Loved or hated, however, it is a creature about which we know less +than any other winged animal. It comes and goes in mystery, no one +being able to decide what is its original country, how far it extends +its travels, to what peculiarity in its structure or constitution it +owes its restless propensity, or why, almost as soon as born, it +becomes a sort of feathered Cain, murdering its foster-brethren, and, +according to some, devouring the very dam that fed it. Wide, indeed, +are its wanderings. It is heard on the banks of the Niger and the +Senegal in the heart of Africa; it is familiar to the dwellers on the +Obi and the Irtish; it flies screaming forth its harsh dissyllables +over the Baltic surge; it repeats them untiringly in the perfumed air +of Andalusia and Granada, among the ruins of the Alhambra and the +Generaliffe; it startles the woodman in the forests of France; it +amuses the school-boy in the green vales of Kent, of Gloucestershire, +and of Devonshire. + +Our associations with the cuckoo are, in some cases, pleasant; it +comes to us with the first of those peregrinating birds that usher in +the summer; its cry is redolent of sunshine, of the scent of +primroses, of lindens, of oaks, and elms, of solitary pathways, of the +lilied banks of streams. Occasionally, we know not why, it flies early +in the morning over the skirts of great cities, as if to invite their +inmates to shake off drowsiness, and look forth upon the loveliness of +the young day. Not many weeks ago, we heard it in London, just as the +clouds were parting in the east to make way for the first beams of +dawn. Many summers back, we heard the self-same notes echoing among +the pinnacles of the Alps, before the morning-star had faded from +behind the Jungfrau. The cuckoo is a sort of familiar chronicler, that +gathers up the events of our lives, and brings them to our memory by +his well-known voice. As he shouts over our heads, we call to mind the +many summers the sweet scents of which we have inhaled, the rambles we +have taken in the woods, our idolatry of nature, our innocent +pleasures. + +The cuckoo and the nightingale constitute the opposite poles of the +ornithological world; one the representative of eternal monotony, the +other of infinite variety. Among men, there are cuckoos and +nightingales--individuals whose ideas are few, who think invariably +after the same pattern, who repeat day after day the formulas of the +nursery and the school-room, who, from their swaddling-bands to their +shrouds, never break away from the social catechism dinned into them +at the outset; while there are others who seem, at least in their +range of thought, to know no limit but that of creation, to generate +fresh swarms of ideas every moment, now to hover among the nebulas on +the extreme verge of the {544} universe, and now to nestle in the +chalice of the violet, where even Ariel could scarcely find room for +the tip of his pinion. Naturalists may be fanciful, like poets; and if +this liberty be ever allowable, it is surely so when they speak of the +nightingale. The organization of this winged miracle, whose whole +weight does not exceed an ounce, may in truth be looked upon as one of +the most remarkable in the whole scale of animal life. The roar of the +gorilla can, it is said, be heard a full mile. But the gorilla is a +colossus, equalling in stature one of the sons of Anak; while +Philomela, not exceeding in bulk the forejoint of the monster's thumb, +is able at night, when all the woods are still, to cause the liquid +melody of her notes to be heard at an equal distance. Consider the +organ, measure the length of country, and the ecstacy of the listening +ear, and you will perhaps acknowledge that there are few phenomena +familiar to our experience more astonishing than this. We have stood +at midnight on a mountain in the south of France, and at a distance +quite as great, we think, as that mentioned above, have heard the +notes of the songstress of darkness borne up to us, on the breeze from +the depths of an unwooded valley. Faintly and gently they came through +the hushed air, but there could be no mistake about their identity; no +other mortal mixture of earth's mould than her throat could have given +forth such sounds, crisp, clear, long-drawn, melancholy, as if she +were still lamenting the sad hap that overtook her amid die solitudes +of Hellas. The French, down even to the peasants, love the +nightingale; and wild country girls, who in their whole lives never +read a page of poetry, will sit out half the night on a hillside to +listen to their favorite bird. A priest once invited us to pass a week +with him in his village _presbytère_, and in enumerating the +inducements, mentioned first that there were nightingales in the +neighborhood. His home was in the valley of Mortagne, in the Bocages +of Normandy, where these birds are in fact as plentiful as sparrows. + +In Italy, especially in Tuscany and the Venetian states, the +nightingale trills her notes with more than ordinary beauty. The great +Roman naturalist who perished amid the lava-floods of Vesuvius, often, +we may be sure, enjoyed her song from his nephew's garden in this part +of the peninsula. No description of the wonders she achieves can +approach the one he has left us for truth or eloquence, and it was +written in all likelihood by the light of some antique lamp between +the prolonged gushes of her music. Unhappily, it is true, as he says, +that the nightingale's song can only be heard in perfection during +fifteen out of the three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. The +female bird is then sitting in her nest, imparting vital heat to the +musicians of future years; and her lover, fully impressed with the +importance of her duty, intoxicates her with his voice, to dispel the +tedium of confinement. In spite of natural history, however, poetry +transfers to the mute female the singing powers of her lord: + + "Nightly she sings from yon, pomegranate-tree." + +Pliny, too, after stating the fact, that it is the male that sings, +immediately avails himself of the aid supplied by metonymy, and +changes the sex of the musician. Let us take his description, as +honest Philemon Holland supplies it in the language of Elizabeth's +time: "Is it not a wonder," he says, "that so loud and clear a voice +should come from so little a body? Is it not as strange that she +should hold her breath so long, and continue with it as she doth? +Moreover, she alone in her song keepeth time and measure truly; she +riseth and falleth in her note just with the rules of music and +perfect harmonic: for one while in one entire breath she draweth out +her tune at length treatable; another while she quavereth, and goeth +away as fast in her running points; sometimes she maketh stops and +short cuts in her notes, another time she gathereth in {545} her +breath and singeth descant between the plain song; she fetcheth her +breath again, and then you shall have her in her catches and +divisions; anon, all on a sudden, before a man would think it, she +drowneth her voice, that one can scarce hear her; now and then she +seemeth to record to herself; and then she breaketh out to sing +voluntarie. In some she varieth and altereth her voice to all keys; +one while full of her larges, longs, briefs, semibriefs, and minims; +another while in her crotchets, quavers, semiquavers, and double +semiquavers, for at one time you shall hear her voice full and loud, +another time as low; and anon shrill and on high: thick and short when +she list; drawn out at leisure again when she is disposed; and then +(if she be so pleased) she riseth and mounteth up aloft, as it were +with a wind-organ. Thus she altereth from one to another, and singeth +all parts, the treble, the meane, and the base. To conclude; there is +not a pipe or instrument again in the world (devised with all the art +and cunning of man so exquisitely as possibly might be) that can +afford more music than this pretty bird doth out of that little throat +of hers." + +We have persons here in England who earn their livelihood by catching +nightingales. It is the same in most other countries. Near Cairo, +there is, or used to be, a pretty grove of mingled mimosas, palms, and +sycamores, where the netters of nightingales station themselves at +night, in the proper season, to take the bird when in full song. +According to their report, which there is no reason to discredit, the +male bird becomes so intoxicated by the scented air, by love, and by +his own music, that the cap-net, fixed at at the summit of a long +reed, may be raised and closed about him before he is sensible of his +danger. From the free woods he is then transferred to a cage, where in +nine cases out of ten, he dies of nostalgia. Nor is this all. The +female bird, accustomed not only to be cheered by his song, but +likewise fed by his industry, pines and perishes with all her brood. +The wren, the swallow, the titlark intermit the business of +incubation, and leave their nests for a minute or a minute and a half +to help themselves while they are sitting, or to assist the male in +feeding the young after the eggs are hatched: but the female +nightingale used, like an eastern sultana, to be provided for entirely +by her lord, feels her utter helplessness when she is deserted, and +leaning her little head and neck over the edge of the nest, with her +eyes fixed in the direction in which he used to come, dies in that +attitude of expectancy. The reason is, that the instinct of pairing, +which is strong in many other birds, reaches its culminating point in +the nightingale--the same males and females keeping together for years +without ever seeking other mates. + +The cuckoo, as we have said, offers the most striking contrast in the +development of its instincts. It does not pair at all, and as there +are more males than females, we may often see two or three of the +former sex following one of the latter, and fighting for her favors. +As the parents care not for one another, neither do they care for +their young. It was long supposed that the cuckoo laid only one egg in +the season; but this has been found to be an error, for though they +leave no more than one egg in one nest--we mean generally--they have +been observed to make deposits in various nests, and then fly away to +a distant part of the country, or even to other lands. In the female +cuckoo, therefore, the maternal instinct is entirely wanting, which, +though it acts in obedience to an imperious law of nature, makes it a +hateful bird. As soon as it quits the shell, it begins to exhibit its +odious qualities. When the cuckoo's egg is placed in the nest of the +hedge-sparrow, for example, the deluded mother perceives no difference +between the alien production and her own. She sits, therefore, on what +she finds, and having no idea of numbers, of course never thinks of +counting the eggs. {546} When hatching-time arrives, however, she is +made the witness of an extraordinary scene. The villainous young +cuckoo, which often escapes from the shell a whole day before the +others, immediately begins to clear the nest by pitching out the +unhatched eggs; or if the young ones have made their appearance, forth +they are thrown in like manner. Nature has fabricated the little +monster with a view to this ungrateful proceeding, for in its back +there is a hollow depression, in which egg or chick may be placed +while he is rising to shunt it over the battlements. The process is +extremely curious: the young assassin, putting shoulder and elbow to +the work, keeps continually thrusting against his victim till he gets +it on his back; he then rises, and placing his back aslant, tumbles it +out into empty space. This done, and finding that he has all the +dwelling to himself, he subsides quietly into his place, and waits +with ever-open bill for the dole which the foolish sparrow wears +itself almost to death in providing for the faithless wretch. When the +nest happens to be situated in a high hedge, you may often see the +young sparrows spiked alive on the thorns, or the eggs still +palpitating with living birds lying unbroken on the soft grass below. +This inspires naturalists with no pity; they observe that neither the +eggs nor the young birds are thrown away, since various reptiles that +feed on such substances make a comfortable meal of what is thus placed +within their reach. + +As the cuckoo does nothing in life but eat, scream, and lay eggs for +other birds to hatch, it needs no education, and receives none. On the +other hand, the nightingale, having to perform the highest functions +allotted to the class _aves_, requires much training and discipline, +study and preparation. The young nightingale does not sing by mere +instinct. If taken from the nest soon after it is hatched, and brought +up among inferior creatures, it is incapable of performing its lofty +mission, and deals in vulgar twittering like them; just as a baby, if +removed from the society of speech-gifted mortals, and entrusted to +the care of dumb persons, will lack that divine quality of expressing +ideas which distinguishes man from the brute. The nightingale needs +and receives a classical education. When the grass is dewy--when the +leaves are green and fresh--when the soft breath of the morning steals +over the woods like incense, the old bird takes forth the young ones, +before it is quite light, and placing them on some bough, with strict +injunctions to listen, goes a little way off, and begins his song. In +this he commences with the easier notes, and is careful to keep the +whole in a comparatively narrow compass. He then pauses to watch the +result of his first instructions. After a brief delay, during which +they are turning over the notes in their minds, the young ones take up +the lay one by one, and go through it, as our neighbors say, _tant +bien que mal_. The teacher watches their efforts with attention; +applauds them when right; chides them when they have done amiss; and +goes on day by day reïterating his lessons till he considers his +pupils quite equal to the high duties they have to perform. Mankind, +of course, imagine that those duties consist in soothing their ears, +and driving away melancholy. But _apropos_ of the performances of +another bird, our philosophic poet inquires: + + "Is it for thee the lark ascends and sings?" + +And replies: + + "Joy tunes his voice, joy animates his wings." + +So with the nightingale-- + + "Loves of his own and raptures swell the note." + +Some one speaking of our own species, says: + + "We think, we toil, we war, we rove. + And all we ask is--woman's love." + +It is to win the love of Philomela that the male nightingale studies, +watches, and pours forth his soul in song. He had much rather that men +did not listen; he is a shy, solitary, and timid bird, and takes his +love away into {547} the forests, where, undisturbed by the sounds of +vulgar life, he ravishes her ears with music. It is a question much +discussed by poets and naturalists, whether the nightingale's song be +joyous or melancholy. It probably derives its character from the frame +of mind in which the listener happens to be--to the joyous it is +mirthful, to the sorrowful it is sad--but in its real nature it is +what Milton suggests-- + + "She all night long her amorous descant sung." + +Still it must be owned that they who discover melancholy in her long, +low, meltingly sweet notes, seem to approach nearer the truth than +they who describe her as a merry bird. It is superstition, perhaps, +that attributes to her the strange philosophy which makes anguish the +well-spring of pleasure. When desirous, it is said, of reaching the +sublimest heights of song, she leans her breast against a thorn, in +order that the sense of pain may tone down her impetuous rapture into +sympathy with human sorrow. + +Another strange notion is, that the nightingale fixes her eyes-- + + "Her bright, bright eyes; her eyes both bright and full"-- + +on some particular star, from which she never withdraws them till her +song is concluded, unless she be alarmed by the approach of some +footstep, or other sound indicative of danger. We remember once, in +Kent, going forth to spend a night in the fields to enjoy the strange +delight imparted by the nightingale's notes. We placed ourselves on a +little eminence overlooking a valley, covered at intervals by +scattered woods. It was the dead watch and middle of the night; +silence the most absolute brooded over the earth. We stood still in +high expectation. Presently, one lordly nightingale flung forth at no +great distance from the summit of a lofty tree his music on the night. +The lay was not protracted, but a rich, short, defiant burst of +melody; he then, like the Roman orator, paused for a reply. The reply +came, not close at hand, but, as it seemed, from some copse or thicket +far down in the valley. If one might presume to judge on the spur of +the moment, the second songster did really outdo the first. The notes +came forth bubbling, gushing, quivering, palpitating, as it were, with +soul, for nothing material ever resembled it. He went over a broad +area of song, with a sort of wilderness of melody; his notes followed +each other so rapidly, high, low, linked, broken--now sweeping away +like a torrent, now sinking till it sounded like the scarcely audible +murmur of a distant bee. He then stopped abruptly, confident that he +had given his rival something to reflect upon. We now waited to hear +that rival's answer, but he appeared to consider himself defeated, and +remained silent. Another champion now stepped forward, and took up the +challenge. He must surely have been the prince of his race. From a +tree on the slope of a height, not far to the right of our position, +he gave us a new specimen of the poetry of his race. The former two, +evidently younger and more inexperienced, had been in a hurry. He took +up his parable at leisure, beginning with a few light flourishes by +way of preface, after which he plunged into his epic, seeming to carry +on the subject from the epoch of Deucalion and Pyrrha, down to that +moment, displaying all the resources of art, and presenting us with +every form into which music could be moulded. What he might have +achieved at last, or to what pitch he might have raised our ecstasy, +must remain a mystery, for before he had concluded his song, a +thundering railway train, belching forth fire and smoke as it +advanced, seemed to be on the very point of annihilating the +songsters; so they all took to flight, or at least remained +obstinately silent. We waited hour after hour, now pacing in one +direction, now in another; stopping short, pausing in our talk, +listening till the streaky dawn, climbing slowly up the eastern hills, +revealed to us the inutility of further hope. + +{548} + +The first time we heard the nightingale was from the deck of a vessel +in the Avon, near Lee Woods. It was a starlight night; we were leaning +on the bulwarks, speculating on the reception we were to meet with in +England--in which we had that day arrived for the first time. As we +were chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy, from an indenture in +the woods, called, as we have since learned, Nightingale Valley, there +burst forth at once a flood of sound, the strangest, the sweetest, the +most intoxicating we had ever heard--it must be, it was the voice of +the nightingale--- + + To the land of my fathers that welcomed me back. + +Years not a few have rolled by since then, but we remember as +distinctly as if it were yesternight the pleasure of that exquisite +surprise. We heard the nightingale in England before the cuckoo--a +circumstance which, according to Chaucer, should portend good-luck; +and so it did--good-luck and happy days. + +Perhaps much of the pleasure tasted in such cases is derived from the +time of year--for both the cuckoo and the nightingale belong to the +spring--when the air is full of balm, when the foliage is thick, when +the grass is green and young--and when, especially in the morning, +delicate odors ascend from the earth, which produce a wonderful effect +upon the animal spirits. Through these scents, the cry of one bird and +the song of the other invariably come to us: the one flitting at early +dawn over the summits of woods, the other in loneliest covert hid, +making night lovely, and smoothing the raven down of darkness till it +smiles. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +HYMN. + + Spirit of God, thyself the Lord, + Out of the depths I call on thee. + Above, I view thy gleaming sword. + Around, thy works of love I see. + + Spirit of God, that hovering high + Didst watch the primal waters roll, + Brood o'er my heart, and verify + The turbid chaos of my soul! + + Spirit of God, oh! bid me fear, + That blessed fear thy love can calm; + Transfix me with thy shining spear + And heal me with thy holy balm! + + Spirit of God, oh! fill my breast, + And sear me with the sign of heaven. + The glorious brand of sin confessed, + The glorious seal of sin forgiven. + +F.A.R. + +------ + +{549} + + +From the Irish Industrial Magazine + +THE INDUSTRIAL ARTS OF OUR ANCESTORS. + +BY M. HAVERTY, ESQ. + + +That the early inhabitants of Ireland possessed sundry kinds of +manufacture is a point that can scarcely be disputed; for, besides +frequent passages in ancient and authentic historical documents +referring to the matter, we have satisfactory evidence in those +specimens of the manufactured articles themselves which have been +preserved to the present day, and which bear testimony to the skill +and industry that produced them. + +A visit to the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy must convince us of +the excellent workmanship of the ancient Irish bronze swords, and +other weapons, and of certain ancient gold ornaments--both bronze and +gold articles belonging to a date anterior to the introduction of +Christianity into Ireland. From the early Christian ages we have +received many of the old ecclesiastical ornaments that have been +preserved; and some of them exhibit that peculiar and exquisite kind +of interlaced ornamentation which began at a remote period to be known +as _opus Hibernicum_, or the Irish style. + +We know that the ancient Irish were skilled in the manufacture of +their musical instruments, as well as in the use of them; and in the +preparation of parchment, as well as in the almost unrivalled beauty +of penmanship of which that parchment has preserved so many specimens. +Then we must return to much more ancient times for the manufacture of +gold and silver goblets, and, above all, for those beautiful fibulae, +or brooches, which have afforded models for some of the most graceful +and costly articles of female decoration at the present day. We may +very naturally conclude that these charming fibular were not employed +to hold together mantles of the coarsest possible manufacture, or, +rather, that there was some proportion between the texture of the +cloth and the beautiful workmanship of the brooch which clasped it +round the person of the wearer; and, in a word, we are justified in +presuming that some manufactures, besides those of which specimens +were durable enough to have been preserved to the present day, existed +in the country. + +The incessant warfare of the Danish period, and of the centuries +following the Anglo-Norman invasion, must have been destructive to the +industrial arts; yet we meet occasionally with some external evidence +of their existence even then. Some eighty years ago, the Earl of +Charlemont lighted on a curious passage relating to the subject in an +Italian poem of the fourteenth century. From this and other +authorities he was able to show, in a paper published in the first +volume of the "Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy," that Ireland +produced a fine woollen fabric called serge, which enjoyed an European +reputation at the very time the Flemish weavers were brought over by +Edward III. to establish the woollen manufacture in England, and +consequently before it could have been introduced here from the latter +country. The investigation of such scattered facts as these would be +interesting, and no doubt would flatter national vanity. It may, +perhaps, occupy us on some future occasion; but for the present we +shall confine our inquiry to a somewhat more modern epoch, and more +tangible evidences. + +Strangely enough, the first writer we have had on the natural history +and industrial resources of Ireland happens {550} to have been a +Dutchman. Dr. Gerard Boate--a resident of London, though by birth, it +appears, a Hollander--obtained the post of state physician in Ireland +from the Commonwealth, in 1649 and having purchased, as an adventurer, +a few years earlier, some of the forfeited lands in Leinster and +Ulster, applied himself to the subject of his book, with a view +originally to the improvement of his own property. His information, +however, was obtained, not from personal experience, but from Irish +gentlemen whom he had met in London, such as Sir William and Sir +Richard Parsons; and from his brother, Dr. Arnold Boate, who had +practiced as a physician in Dublin for many years; but he himself, +unfortunately, died a few months after his arrival in Ireland to enter +on the duties of his office, before he was able to carry out more than +half the original design of his work, which, though written in 1645, +was not published until some years after his death. He collected his +information and wrote while the great civil war was still raging, and +when all his feelings and interests must have been strongly enlisted +against the native race, so that we are not to be surprised at the +acerbity of some of his expressions about them. Our concern is, not +with his feelings or opinions, but with the facts which he relates, +and the descriptions and statistics which he supplies. + +On the state of metallurgy in Ireland in his time, Dr. Boate gives us +some very curious information. He denies any knowledge of the subject +on the part of the native Irish, and asserts that all the mines in +Ireland were discovered by the "New English." "The Old English in +Ireland," he says, "that is, those who are come in from the time of +the first conquest until the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's reign, +have been so plagued with wars from time to time--one while intestine +among themselves, and another while with the Irish--that they could +scarce ever find the opportunity of seeking for mines. . . . . . And +the Irish themselves, as being one of the most barbarous nations of +the whole earth, have at all times been so far from seeking out any, +that even in these last years, and since the English have begun to +discover some, none of them all, great or small, at any time hath +applied himself to that business, or in the least manner furthered it; +so that all the mines which to this day are found out in Ireland, have +been discovered (at least, as far to make any use of them) by the New +English, that is, such as are come in during and since the reign of +Queen Elizabeth." (_Thom's Collection of Tracts and Treatises_, vol. +i. 102.) + +He adds, that several iron mines had been discovered in various parts +of the kingdom, and also some of lead and silver, during the forty +years' peace, from the death of Elizabeth to the outbreak of the great +rebellion--the longest peace, he remarks, that Ireland ever enjoyed, +either before or after the coming of the English. The great extent to +which smelting was carried on during a portion of that time may be +concluded from the almost incredible destruction of the Irish woods, +to make charcoal for the purpose. This Dr. Boate describes in a +preceding chapter; "As long as the land was in the full possession of +the Irish themselves," he says, and we know the fact from many other +sources, "all Ireland was very full of woods on every side;" but the +English cleared away a great deal of these, both to destroy the +lurking places of their foes, and to convert the land into tillage and +pasture. Besides the woods cleared for these purposes, a vast amount +of timber was felled, as Boate tells us, for merchandise, and to make +charcoal for the iron works. The timber comprised under the former +head does not appear to have been for building, but simply for pipe +staves and the like, of which, he says, great quantities were exported +even in former times; "and," he adds, "during the last peace a mighty +trade was driven in them, and whole shiploads sent into foreign +countries yearly;" while, "as for the charcoal," he {551} continues, +"it is incredible what quantity thereof is consumed by one iron work +in a year . . . so that it was necessary from time to time to fell an +infinite number of trees, all the loppings and windfalls being not +sufficient for it in the least manner." The result of all this was, +that even in Boate's time, that is, over 200 years ago, the greater +part of Ireland was left totally bare of woods; the inhabitants could +obtain no wood for building, or even for firing; and in some parts one +might travel whole days without seeing any trees, except a few about +gentlemen's houses. For a distance of over three score miles from +north to south, in the counties of Louth and Dublin, "one doth not +come near any woods worth speaking of; and in some parts thereof you +shall not see so much as one tree in many miles. For the great woods +which the maps do represent unto us upon the mountains, between +Dundalk and Nurie, are quite vanished, there being nothing left of +them these many years since but one only tree, standing close by the +highway, at the very top of one of the mountains, so far as it may be +seen a great way off, and therefore serveth travellers for a mark." + +At that period iron mines were worked extensively near Tallow, on the +borders of Cork and Waterford, by the famous Earl of Cork; in the +county of Clare, some six miles from Limerick; at a place called +Desert, in the King's County, by Sergeant-Major Pigott; at Mountrath +and Mountmellick, in the Queen's County; on the shores of Lough Allen, +both on the Roscommon and Leitrim sides--the mountains of +Slieve-an-ieran, or the Iron Mountain, in the latter county, having +obtained its name, in the remotest ages, from the presence of that +metal; on the shores of Lough Erne, in Fermanagh; in Cavan; at Lissan, +on the borders of Tyrone and Londonderry, where the works were carried +on by Sir Thomas Staples, the owner of the soil; at the foot of Slieve +Gallen, in the county of Derry; and in several other places. Iron +smelting works and foundries were erected, not only in the vicinity of +the mines, but in other places on the coast, and elsewhere, where the +convenience of water carriage and the supplies of charcoal afforded +inducements. To some of these works on the sea-coast, the ore was +brought even from England; but the principal iron works appear to have +been those belonging to the Earl of Cork, in Munster; to Sir Charles +Coote, at Mountrath, and in Roscommon and Leitrim; to the Earl of +Londonderry, in his own county; to Lord Chancellor Loftus, ancestor of +the Marquis of Ely, at Mountmellick; to Sir John Dunbar, in Fermanagh; +Sir Leonard Blennerhassett, on Lough Erne; and a company of London +merchants in Clare. We are not told whether these last were the +representatives of the London Mining Company, to which Queen Elizabeth +granted the royalties of the precious metals that might be discovered +within the English Pale. Mr. Christopher Wandsworth, who had been +Master of the Rolls for Ireland, and acted as Lord Deputy under the +Earl of Strafford, erected a foundry in the county of Carlow, where +ordnance were cast, and also a kind of small round furnaces, pots, and +other articles made. + +It was estimated that the owners of the iron works--we do not here +refer to the mines--made a profit of forty per cent in the year; and +Boate was assured, by persons who were particularly well informed on +the subject, that the Earl of Cork cleared £100,000 by his iron works. +Sir Charles Coote--"that zealous and famous warriour in this present +warre against the Irish rebells," in the first year of which war he +fell--appears to have been quite as famous as an iron-master as he was +as a warrior, and his iron-works at Mountrath were a model at that +time. A ton of the ore called rock mine cost him, at the furnace head, +5s. 6d.; and a ton of white mine, or ore dug from a mountain, 7s. The +two ores were mixed in the {552} proportion of one of rock mine to two +of white mine, and three tons of the mixed ore yielded one ton of good +bar iron, which was conveyed in rude, small boats called cots, on the +River Nore to Waterford, and thence shipped to London, where it was +sold for £16, and sometimes for £17, or even £17 10s.; the whole cost +of the iron to Sir Charles Coote, including that of digging it out of +the mine and every expense until it reached the London market, Custom +House duty included, being between £10 and £11 per ton. In most places +the cost of the ore at the furnace varied from 5s. to 6s. per ton; and +when the ore was particularly rich, 2-1/2 tons produced one ton of +good iron; but Boate tells us that few of the iron smelters carried on +their work as profitably as Sir Charles Coote. + +In Boate's time, only three lead and silver mines appear to have been +known in Ireland. One of these was in the county of Antrim, and was +very rich, yielding 1 lb. of silver to 30 lbs. of lead; another was +situated in Cony Island, at Sligo; and the third, the only one which +was worked, was the famous silver mines of the barony of Upper Ormond, +in Tipperary, about twelve miles from Limerick. This mine had been +discovered about forty years before, and was at first supposed to be +merely a lead mine; some of the first lead it produced being used by +the Earl of Thomond to roof his house at Bunratty. It was worked in +the shape of open pits, several fathoms deep, but still sloping so +gradually, that the ore was carried to the surface in wheelbarrows. +Each ton of ore at this mine yielded 3 lbs. of pure silver; but our +authority does not inform us how much lead. The silver was sold in +Dublin for 5s. 2d. per oz., and the lead for £11 per ton, though it is +stated to have brought £12 in Limerick; and the royalty, or king's +share, was a sixth part of the silver, and a tenth of the lead. The +rest was the property of those who farmed the mine, and who cleared an +estimated profit of £2000 per annum. The works at this mine, and in +general all the smelting works which we have mentioned throughout the +country, were of course destroyed in the civil war. + +So much for the practical metallurgy of Ireland, as it existed two +hundred years ago. Of the knowledge of the original inhabitants on the +subject, Sir William Wilde ("Catalogue of Antiquities," etc., vol. i. +p. 351) says--and his opinion is the result of all the investigation +that is practicable in the matter--"When, and how, the Irish people +discovered metals and their uses, together with the art of smelting +and casting, has not been determined by archaeologists;" but a few +remarkable and suggestive facts on the subject may be mentioned. +Manuscripts, themselves five or six hundred years old, and purporting +to give information handed down from the most remote antiquity, make +frequent mention of the knowledge and use of metals among the ancient +Irish. Thus the old annalists say, that "gold was first smelted in +Ireland in Fotharta-Airthir-Liffe," a woody district in Wicklow, east +of the River Liffey, supposed to coincide with the present well-known +auriferous tract in that county. Indeed, it is most probable that gold +was the first metal known to the Irish, as well as to all people in +early stages of civilization, as, besides its glittering quality, it +is almost the only metal found in a native state upon the surface, and +consequently obtainable without the art of smelting. Dr. Boate writes: +"I believe many will think it very unlikely that there should be any +gold mines in Ireland; but a credible person hath given me to +understand, that one of his acquaintances had several times assured +him that out of a certain rivulet, in the county of Nether-Tirone, +called Miola, he had gathered about one dram of pure gold." We also +know from the celts, and other articles in these metals which have +been preserved, that the ancient Irish possessed {553} copper, which +they were able to convert into brass and bronze; and also that they +had silver, tin, lead, and iron. The Irish version of Nennius +mentions, as the first wonder of Ireland, that Lough Lein--the Lake of +Killarney--is surrounded by four circles, viz., "a circle of tin, and +a circle of lead, and a circle of iron, and a circle of copper"--an +indication not only that these metals were known to the people, but +that some rude idea had been formed of the mineralogy of the district. + + + +THEIR AGRICULTURE. + +Grain, in one shape or other, formed a main ingredient in the food of +the Irish from the earliest historic period; and we may, consequently, +include Agriculture among the earliest of their industrial arts. We +are not aware of any time at which they were exclusively a +flesh-eating people; and we find it clearly stated, with reference to +periods not altogether very remote, that the native Irish subsisted to +a great extent on the milk and butter of their large herds of cattle, +seldom killing the animals for their flesh. On the other hand, we know +that vast numbers of cattle were slain and consumed in the constant +petty wars of the country; and that the lawless dwellers in the +_cranogues_, or lake habitations--whatever period they belong to--were +decidedly carnivorous, as the immense accumulations of the bones and +horns of cattle found in their insulated haunts testify. But the fact +we contend for is, that the ancient Irish were a granivorous quite as +much as a carnivorous race, if not more so; and some ethnologists have +concluded, from an examination of very ancient Irish crania, that the +teeth were chiefly employed in masticating grain in a hard state. + +It is a curious and well-known fact that in many parts of Ireland +traces of tillage are visible on the now barren sides or summits of +hills, in places which have been long since abandoned to savage +nature, and in a soil which would appear never to have been +susceptible of cultivation. Some such elevated spots, now covered with +grass, are known to have been cultivated some years since, when the +rural population was much denser than at present; but we are referring +to other places where we find well-marked ridges and furrows on +hillsides, four or five hundred feet above the sea level, or even +more; and which are now covered with heath, and so denuded, by ages of +atmospheric action on the steep slopes, as to retain only the least +quantity of vegetable surface, wholly inadequate at present to nourish +any kind of grain. + +When, and by whom, were these wild spots cultivated? The country +people have lost all tradition on the subject, and substitute their +own conjectures. + +It is not probable that the population of Ireland was ever so dense as +to have necessitated such extreme efforts to eke out the arable land; +or that the people were ever so crowded as to have been compelled, as +it were, like the Chinese, to Terrace the hill-sides to grow food. Mr. +Thom has collected, in his admirable "Statistics of Ireland," all the +authentic accounts of Irish census returns. Taking these in their +inverse order, we find that the 8,175,124 of 1841 was only 6,801,827 +in 1821; 5,937,856 in 1814; 4,088,226 in 1792; 2,544,276 in 1767; +2,309,106 in 1726; 1,034,102 in 1695; and 1,300,000 in 1672. These +latter early returns were merely the estimates of the hearth-money +collectors, and are generally deemed to be unreliable. Newenham, in +his Enquiry, expresses his disbelief in them, and shows from the +statements of Arthur Young, and from official returns, that they were +clearly under the truth. Yet the returns recently found by Mr. +Hardinge, of the Landed Estates Record Office, among the papers of Sir +William Petty, in the library of the Marquis of Lansdowne, would +reduce the population to a {554} much lower figure still at an epoch +only a little earlier than the date last enumerated above. Mr. +Hardinge shows that the Petty returns must have been made in 1658 or +1659; and, supplying a proportional computation for some omitted +counties and baronies, he finds that the total population of Ireland +at that date was only _half a million!_ It is true that this was +immediately after the close of the long and desolating civil war which +commenced in 1641; and at a time when, as Mr. Hardinge observes, one +province had been so utterly depopulated as to leave its lands vacant +for the transplanted remnants of the people of two other provinces; +yet, even under all the circumstances, the number is incredibly small. + +Going further back, we may conclude that the population could not have +been considerable during the constant civil wars which wasted the +entire country throughout the long reign of Elizabeth; nor was there +any time from the Anglo-Norman invasion to that period in which the +circumstances of the country were favorable to the social or numerical +development of the population; while in earlier times matters can +hardly be said to have been a whit better. There is no period of +ancient Irish history in which the native annalists do not record +almost an annual recurrence of internecine wars in all the +provinces--wars equally inveterate and sanguinary, whether the country +was infested by foreign foes, or not (_vide_ the Four Masters +_passim_)--while, on the other hand, we know that the population of a +country never multiplies excessively except in long intervals of +peace. It may be urged that the remains of the innumerable _raths_ and +_cahirs_, or _caishels_, which cover the land, and of the abbeys and +small churches which dot the country, indicate periods of very dense +population: but this is a mistaken notion; for at the time when the +raths were inhabited, it can scarcely be said there were any towns in +Ireland; and even when the monasteries were built, the population was +almost wholly rural, and scattered; while a great many of the very +small religious edifices through the country were only the isolated +oratories of hermits. + +The poet, Spenser, writing about A.D. 1596, would seem to give us the +best clue to the time in which those mountain wildernesses we have +been referring to were subjected to a kind of cultivation. In his +"View of the State of Ireland," he makes _Irenaeus_ relate how the +most part of the Irish fled from the power of Henry II. "into deserts +and mountains, leaving the wyde countrey to the conquerour, who in +their stead eftsoones placed English men, who possessed all their +lands, and did quite shut out the Irish, or the most part of them:" +and how "they [the Irish] continued in that lowlinesse untill the time +that the division betweene the two houses of Lancaster and York arose +for the crowne of England; at which time all the great English lords +and gentlemen, which had great possessions in Ireland, repaired over +hither into England. . . . . . Then the Irish whom before they had +banished into the mountains, where they only lived on white meates, as +it is recorded, seeing now their lands so dispeopled and weakened, +came downe into all the plaines adjoyning, and thence expelling those +few English that remained, repossessed them againe, since which they +have remained in them," etc. + +It is most probable, then, that it was during that early period of +refuge in the mountains that the wild tracts we have alluded to were +cultivated by the Irish; and it is worth remarking that when, in +Spenser's own time, the English recovered a portion of the plain at +the foot of Slieve Bloom, in the O'Moore's country, of which the Irish +had been for several years in quiet possession, they were surprised at +the high state of cultivation in which they found it. + +{555} + +The ancient Irish ploughed with oxen, as appears from many +unquestionable authorities--among others, from a reference to the +subject in the volume of "Brehon Laws" recently published by +Government, page 123; but in subsequent times they were brought so +low, that in some places, and among the poorest sort, the barbarous +practice prevailed of yoking the plough to a horse's tail! It is a +mistake to suppose, on the one hand, that this was a mere groundless +calumny on the people; or, on the other, that it was anything like a +general national custom. The preamble to the Act of the Irish +Parliament (10 and 11 Charles I., chap. 15) passed in 1635, to +prohibit the practice, says: "Whereas in many places of this kingdome +there hath been a long time used a barbarous custome of ploughing. . . . +and working horses, mares, etc, by the taile, whereby (besides the +cruelty used to the beasts) the breed of horses is much impaired in +this kingdome, to the great prejudice thereof; and whereas also divers +have and yet do use the like barbarous custom of pulling off the wool +yearly from living sheep, instead of clipping or shearing of them, be +it therefore enacted," etc., etc. + +That this Act, as well as the subsequent Act, chap. 15, "to prevent +the unprofitable custom of burning of corne in the straw," instead of +threshing out the grain, was regarded as a popular grievance, appears +from the fact, that the repeal of these Acts was made one of the +points of negotiation with the Marquis of Ormond during the Civil War; +but they remained on the Statute Book until repealed, as obsolete, in +1828, by 9 Geo. IV. c. 53. + +Boate, writing about Ireland, more than two hundred years ago, labors +to show that the soil and climate are better suited for grazing than +for tillage. "Although Ireland," he quaintly observes, "almost in +every part bringeth good corn plentifully, nevertheless hath it a more +naturall aptness for grass, the which in most places it produceth very +good and plentiful! of itself, or with little help; the which also +hath been well observed by Giraldus, who of this matter writeth--'This +iland is fruitfuller in grass and pastures than in corn and graines." +And farther on he continues: "The abundance and greatness of pastures +in Ireland doth appear by the numberless number of all sorts of +cattell, especially kine and sheep, wherewith this country in time of +peace doth swarm on all sides." He remarks, that, although the Irish +kine, sheep, and horses were of a small size, that did not arise from +the nature of the grass, as was fully demonstrated by the fact that +the breed of large cattle brought out of England did not deteriorate +in point of size or excellence. + +Sir William Petty states that the cattle and other grazing stock of +Ireland were worth above £4,000,000 in 1641, at the outbreak of the +civil war; and that in 1652 the whole was not worth £500,000. + +John Lord Sheffield, in "Observations on the Manufactures, etc., of +Ireland," Dublin, 1785, writes that Ireland, "which had so abounded in +cattle and provisions, was, after Cromwell's settlement of it, obliged +to import provisions from Wales. However, it was sufficiently +recovered soon after the Restoration to alarm the grazing counties of +England; and in the year 1666 the importation of live cattle, sheep, +swine, etc, from Ireland was prohibited. . . . . Ireland turned to +sheep, to the dairy, and fattening of cattle, and to tillage; and she +shortly exported much beef and butter, and has since supplanted +England in those beneficial branches of trade. She was forced to seek +a foreign market; and England had no more than one fourth of her +trade, although before that time she had almost the whole of it." + +{556} + +Arthur Young, whose "Agricultural Tours in Ireland in 1775, etc.," did +so much for the improvement of this country, always advocated tillage +in preference to grazing. Referring to the former, he says: "The +products upon the whole [of Ireland] are much inferior to those of +England though not more so than I should have expected; not from +inferiority of soil, but from the extreme inferiority of management. . . . +Tillage in Ireland is very little understood. In the greatest corn +counties, such as Louth, Kildare, Carlow, and Kilkenny, where are to +be seen many very fine crops of wheat, all is under the old system, +exploded by good farmers in England, of sowing wheat upon a fallow and +succeeding it with as many crops of spring corn as the soil will bear. +. . . But keeping cattle of every sort is a business so much more +adapted to the laziness of the farmer, that it is no wonder the +tillage is so bad. It is everywhere left to the cotters, or to the +very poorest of the farmers, who are all utterly unable to make those +exertions upon which alone a vigorous culture of the earth can be +founded; and were it not for potatoes, which necessarily prepare for +corn, there would not be half of what we see at present. While it is +in such hands, no wonder tillage is reckoned be unprofitable. Profit +in all undertakings depends on capital; and is it any wonder that the +profit should be small when the capital is nothing at all! Every man +that has one gets into cattle, which will give him an idle lazy +superintendence instead of an active attentive one." + +How much of this is just as applicable to the state of things in our +own times, as it was eighty or ninety years ago! Young would appear to +be describing accurately the state of agriculture in Ireland just +before the last destructive famine; but happily he would find at the +present moment a considerable improvement. One change, however, which +he would find would not be much to his taste. He would see even the +humblest tenant farmer, as well as the large land occupier, placing +almost his whole confidence in pasturage, and compelled to abandon +tillage by the uncertainty of the seasons, the low price of grain, and +the increasing price of labor. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +CLAIMS. + + + Nay,--claim it not, the lightest joy that throws + Its transient blushes o'er the beaming earth + Or the sweet hope in any living thing + As thine by birth. + + No precious sympathy, no thoughtful care, + No touch of tenderness, however near; + But watch the blossoming of life's delight + With sacred fear. + + Have joy in life, and gladden to the sense + Of dear companionship, in thought, in sight; + But oh! as gifts of heaven's abounding love, + Not thine by right. + +---- + +{557} + +From The Month. + +SEALSKINS AND COPPERSKINS. + +Captain Hall, unconvinced by the evidence published by Captain +M'Clintock in 1859, undertook his expedition in search of the +surviving members of Sir John Franklin's crew, (if such there were;) +or in the hope of clearing up all doubt about the history of their +end, in the event of their having perished. He was baffled in his +attempt to reach the region in which he hoped to find traces of the +objects of his search, by the wreck of the boat which he had +constructed for the enterprise; and his ship being beset with ice in a +winter which set in earlier than usual, he spent more than two +years--the interval between May, 1860, and September, 1862--among the +Esquimaux on the western coast of Davis's Strait, in order to acquire +their language and familiarize himself with their habits and mode of +life. He is at present once more in the arctic regions, having +returned thither in order to prosecute his enterprise. He is now +accompanied by two intelligent Esquimaux, whom he took back with him +to America; and who, having now learnt English, will serve him as +interpreters as well as a means of introduction to the various +settlements of Esquimaux whom he may have occasion to visit in his +travels. The results of his present expedition will probably be more +interesting than those of his first. If we test the success of his +first voyage by the discoveries to which it led, these were confined +to correcting the charts of a portion of the western coast of Davis's +Strait, and to proving that the waters hitherto laid down as +"Frobisher's _Strait_" are in fact not a strait, but a bay. As a +voyage of discovery, its importance falls far short of that undertaken +for the same object in 1857 by Captain M'Clintock. Captain Hall, +however, was enabled, by comparing the various traditions among the +Esquimaux, to arrive at the spot where Frobisher, in the reign of +Queen Elizabeth, attempted to found a settlement on "Kodlunarn" [that +is, "White man's"] Island, (the Countess Warwick's Island, of English +maps,) where he found coal, brick, iron implements, timber, and +buildings still remaining. This success in tracing out, by means of +information supplied by the natives, the relics of an expedition +undertaken more than three centuries ago, makes him confident of +obtaining a like success in unravelling the mystery in which the fate +of Sir John Franklin and his companions is still wrapped, by a similar +residence among the Esquimaux of Boothia and King William's Island, +which were the last known points in their wanderings. This is the +region he is now attempting to reach for the second time. But the real +value of his present volume is the accurate and faithful record it +gives of the author's impressions, received from day to day during a +residence within the arctic zone, and the details it gives of the +habits and character of the Esquimaux. + +The origin of this people is, we believe, unknown. Another arctic +traveller has suggested that they are "the missing link between a +Saxon and a seal." They are rapidly decreasing in numbers; yet, if +measured by the territory which they inhabit, they form one of the +most widely-spread races on the face of the earth. Mr. Max Müller +might help us to arrive at the ethnological family to which they +belong, were he to study the specimens of their language with which +Captain Hall supplies us. Judging from the physiognomy of two of them, +whom the author has photographed for his frontispiece, we should say +that {558} they certainly do not belong, as M. Bérard and, we believe, +Baron Humboldt have supposed, to those Mongol races, which, under the +names of "Laps" and "Finns," inhabit the same latitudes of the +European continent. They seem rather to approach the type of some of +the tribes of the North American Indians; and the resemblance of their +habits of life and traditions points to the same conclusion. They are +small of stature, five feet two inches being rather a high standard +for the men, but of great strength and activity, and they have a +marvellous power of enduring fatigue, cold, and hunger. + +The name "Esquimaux," by which we designate them, is a French form of +on Indian word, _Aish-ke-um-oog_ (pronounced Es-ke-moag)--meaning in +the Cree language, "He eats raw flesh;" and in fact they are the only +race of North-American savages who live habitually and entirely on raw +flesh. In their own language they are called _Innuit_ that is, _the_ +people par _excellence_. Formerly they had chiefs, and a sort of +feudal system among them; but this has disappeared, and they have now +no political organization whatever, and no authority among them, +except that of the husband over his wives and children. + +Their theology--so far as we can arrive at it--teaches that there is +one Supreme Being, whom they call "Anguta," who created the material +universe; and a secondary divinity, (the daughter of Anguta,) called +"Sidne," through whose agency he created all living things, animal and +vegetable. The Innuits believe in a heaven and a hell, and the +eternity of future rewards and punishments. Success and happiness, and +benevolence shown to others, they consider the surest marks of +predestination to eternal happiness in the next world; and they hold +it to be as certain that whoever is killed by accident or commits +suicide goes straight to heaven, as that the crime of murder will in +all cases be punished eternally in hell. They seem hardly to secure +the attribute of omnipotence to their "Supreme Being;" for, in their +account of the creation of the world, they affirm that his first +attempt to create a man was a decided failure--that is to say, he +produced a _white_ man. A second attempt, however, was crowned with +entire success, in the production of an Esquimaux on Innuit--the +faultless prototype of the human race. A tradition of a deluge, or +"extraordinary high tide," which covered the whole earth, exists among +the Esquimaux; and they have certain customs which they observe with +religious reverence, although they can give no other reason or +explanation of them except immemorial tradition. "The first Innuits +did so," is always their answer when questioned on the subject. Thus, +when a reindeer, or any other animal, is killed on land, a portion of +the flesh is always buried on the exact spot where it fell--possibly +the idea of sacrifice was connected with this practice; and when a +polar bear is killed, its bladder must be inflated and exposed in a +conspicuous place for three days. And many such practices, equally +unintelligible, are scrupulously adhered to; and any departure from +them is supposed to bring misfortune upon the offending party. + +Though the Esquimaux own neither government nor control of any kind, +they yet yield a superstitious obedience to a character called the +"Angeko," whose influence they rarely venture to contravene. The +Angeko is at once physician and magician. In cases of sickness the +Esquimaux never take medicine; but the Angeko is called, and if his +enchantments fail to cure, the sick person is carried away from the +tents, and left to die. The Angeko is also called upon to avert evils +of all kinds; to secure success for hunting or fishing expeditions, or +any such undertaking; to obtain the disappearance of ice, and the +public good on various occasions; and in all cases the efficacy of his +ministrations is believed to be proportioned to the guerdon which he +receives. Captain Hall {559} mentions only two instances, as having +occurred in his experience, of resistance being made by Esquimaux to +the wishes of the Angeko; and in both cases the parties demurred to a +demand that they should give up their wives to him. Though more +commonly they have but one wife, owing to the difficulty of supporting +a number of women, polygamy is allowed and practised by the Esquimaux. +Their marriage is without ceremony of any kind, nor is the bond +indissoluble. Exchange of wives is of frequent occurrence; and if a +man becomes, from sickness or other cause, unable to support them, his +wives will leave him, and attach themselves to some more vigorous +husband. For the rest, the Esquimaux are intelligent, honest, and +extremely generous to one another. When provisions are scarce, if a +seal or walrus is killed by one of the camp, he invites the whole +settlement to feast upon it, though he may be in want of food for +himself and his family on the morrow in consequence of doing so. They +are very improvident, and rarely store their food, but trust to the +fortunes of the chase to supply their wants, and are generally during +the winter in a constant state of oscillation between famine and +abundance. The Esquimaux inhabit the extreme limits of the globe +habitable by man, and they have certain peculiarities in their life +consequent on the circumstances of their climate and country; but in +other respects they resemble the rest of the nomad and savage races +which people the extreme north of America. In summer the Esquimaux +live in tents called _tupics_, made of skins like those used by the +Indian tribes, and these are easily moved from place to place. As +winter sets in, they choose a spot where provisions are likely to be +plentiful, and there they erect _igloogs_, or huts constructed of +blocks of ice, and vaulted in the roof. If they are obliged to change +their quarters during the winter, either permanently or temporarily, +they build fresh _igloos_ of snow cut into blocks, which soon freeze, +and in the space of an hour or two they are thus able to provide +themselves with new premises. The only animals domesticated by the +Esquimaux are their fine and very intelligent dogs. They serve them as +guards, as guides, as beasts of burden and draught, as companions, and +assist them in the pursuit of every kind of wild animal. The women +have the care of all household affairs, and do the tailor's and +shoemaker's work, and prepare the skins for all articles of clothing +and bedding--no unimportant department in such a climate as theirs: +the men have nothing to think of but to supply provisions by hunting +and fishing. Sporting, which in civilized society is a mere recreation +and amusement, is the profession and serious employment, as well as +the delight, of the savage. And we find in the rational as well as in +the irrational animal, when in its wild state, the highest development +of those instincts and sensible powers with which God has endowed it +for its maintenance and self-preservation, and which it loses, in +proportion as it ceases to need them, in civilized society or in the +domesticated state. + +The arctic regions, though ill-adapted for the abode of man, teem with +animal life. The seal, the walrus, and the whale supply the ordinary +needs of the Esquimaux. In the mouth of their rivers they find an +abundance of salmon; various kinds of ducks and other aquatic birds +inhabit their coasts in multitudes; reindeer and partridges are +plentiful on the hills; while the most highly prized as well as the +most formidable game is the great polar bear, whose flesh affords the +most dainty feast, and whose skin the warmest clothing, to these +children of the North. + +Captain Hall lived, for months at a time, alone with the Esquimaux. He +acquired some proficiency in their language and shared their life in +all respects. He became popular with them, and even gained some +influence over them. He experienced some {560} difficulty in his first +attempt to eat raw flesh, (some whale's blubber, which was served up +for dinner;) but on a second trial, when urged by hunger, he made a +hearty meal on the blood of a seal which had just been killed, which +he found to be delicious. After this, cooking was entirely dispensed +with. Those who have visited new and "unsettled" countries will be +able to testify how easily man passes into a savage state, and how +pleasant the transition is to his inferior nature. There is a charm in +the freedom, in the total emancipation from the artificial restraints, +the feverish collisions, and daily anxieties of civilized society +which is one of the most secret, but also one of the most powerful +agents in advancing the colonization of the world. Captain Hall's +enthusiasm, which begins to mount at the sight of icebergs, whales, +and the novelty and grandeur of arctic scenery, reaches its climax +when he finds himself in an unexplored region, the solitary guest of +this wild and eccentric people, and depending, like them, for his +daily sustenance on the resources of nature alone. + +The Esquimaux are sociable and cheerful, and, in Greenland and the +neighboring islands, hospitable to strangers; but those of their race +who inhabit the continent of America have a character for ferocity, +and are the most unapproachable to Europeans of all the savage tribes +of America. Even Captain Hall himself expresses uneasiness from time +to time lest he should become an object of suspicion to them, or give +them a motive for revenge. They are one of the few peoples of the +extreme north with whom the Hudson's Bay Company have hitherto failed +to establish relations of commerce. Many travellers and traders have +been murdered by them on entering their territory, and the missioners +of North-America regard them as likely to be the last in the order of +their conversion to Christianity. Skilful boatmen and pilots, +perfectly familiar with their coasts, with great intelligence in +observing natural phenomena, and knowing by experience every probable +variation of their inhospitable climate, as well as the mode of +providing against it, they formed invaluable assistants to an +expedition for the scientific survey of a region as yet imperfectly +known to the geographer. Their sporting propensities were the chief +hindrance to their services in the cause of science. No sooner were +ducks, or seals, or reindeer in view, than all the objects of the +expedition were entirely forgotten till the hunt was over. No motive +is strong enough to restrain an Esquimaux from the chase so long as +game is afoot: + + "Canis a corio nunquam absterrebitur uncto." + +Seals are captured by the Esquimaux in various ways. Some are taken in +nets. At other times they are seen in great numbers on the ice, lying +at the brink of open water, into which they plunge on the first alarm, +and much skill is then required in approaching them. In doing this, +the Esquimaux imitate the tactics of the polar bear. The bear or the +savage, as the case may be, throws himself flat upon the ice and +imitates the slow jerking action of a seal in crawling toward his +game. The seal sees his enemy approaching, but supposes him to be +another seal; but if he shows any signs of uneasiness, the hunter +stops perfectly still and "talks" to him--that is, he imitates the +plaintive grunts in which seals converse with one another. Reassured +by such persuasive language, the seal goes to sleep. Presently he +starts up again, when the same process is repeated. Finally, when +within range, the man fires, or the bear springs upon his victim. But +the Esquimaux confess that the bear far surpasses them in this art, +and that if they could only "talk" as well as "Ninoo," (that is, +"Bruin,)" they should never be in want of seal's flesh. When the +winter sets in, and the ice becomes thick, the seal cuts a passage +{561} through the ice with his sharp claws with which its flippers are +armed, and makes an aperture in the surface large enough to admit its +nose to the outer air for the purpose of respiration. This aperture is +soon covered with snow. When the snow becomes deep enough, and the +seal is about to give birth to its young, it widens the aperture, +passes through the ice, and constructs a dome-shaped chamber under the +snow, which becomes the nursery of the young seals. This is called a +seal's _igloo_, from its resemblance to the huts built by the +Esquimaux. It requires a dog with a very fine nose to mark the +bathing-place or igloo of a seal by the taint of the animal beneath +the snow; but when once it has been discovered, the Esquimaux is +pretty sure of his prey. If an igloo has been formed, and the seal has +young ones, the hunter leaps "with a run" upon the top of the dome, +crushes it in, and, before the seals can recover from their +astonishment, he plunges his seal-hooks into them, from which there is +no escape. If there be no igloo, but a mere breathing-hole, he clears +away the snow with his spear and marks the exact spot where the seal's +nose will protrude at his next visit, an aperture only a few inches in +diameter; then with a seal-spear strongly barbed in his hand, and +attached to his belt by twenty yards of the thongs of deer's hide, he +seats himself over the hole and awaits the seal's "blow." The seal may +blow in a few minutes, or in a few hours, or not for two or three +days; but there the Esquimaux remains, without food, and whatever the +weather may be, till he hears a low snorting sound; then, quick as +lightning, and with unerring aim, he plunges the spear into the seal, +opens the aperture in the ice with his axe till it will allow the body +of the seal to pass, and draws it forth upon the ice. The mode of +spearing the walrus is more perilous. The walrus are generally found +among broken ice, or ice so thin that they can break it. If the ice is +thin, they will often attack the hunter by breaking the ice under his +feet. In order to do this, the walrus looks steadily at the man taking +aim at him, and then dives; the Esquimaux, aware of his intention, +runs to a short distance to shift his position, and when the walrus +rises, crashing through the ice on which he was standing only a moment +before, he comes forward again and darts his harpoon into it. +Ordinarily the Esquimaux selects a hole in the ice where he expects +the walrus to "vent," and places himself so as to command it, with his +harpoon in one hand, a few coils of a long rope of hide, attached to +the harpoon, in the other, the remainder of the rope being wound round +his neck, with a sharp spike fastened at the extreme end of it. As +soon as the walrus rises to the surface, he darts the harpoon into its +body, throws the coils of rope from his neck, and fixes the spike into +the ice. A moment's hesitation, or a blunder, may involve serious +consequences. If he does not instantly detach the rope from his neck, +he is dragged under the ice. If he fails to drive the spike firmly +into the ice before the walrus has run out the length of the line, he +loses his harpoon and his rope. + +But the sport which rouses the whole spirit of an Esquimaux community +begins when a polar bear comes in view. "Ninoo" is the monarch of +these arctic deserts, as the lion is of those of the South. The person +who first shouts on seeing "Ninoo," whether man, woman, or child, is +awarded with the skin, whoever may succeed in killing him. Dogs are +immediately put upon his track, and, on coming up with him, are taught +not to close with him, but to hang upon his haunches and bring him to +bay. The men follow as best they can, and with the best arms that the +occasion supplies. The sagacity and ferocity of this beast make an +attack upon him perilous, even with fire-arms; but great nerve, +strength, and skill are required, when armed {562} only with a harpoon +or a spear, to meet him hand to hand in his battle for life, + + "Or to his den, by snow-tracks, mark the way, + And drag the struggling savage into day." + +The polar bear it amphibious, and often takes to the sea. Then if +boats can be procured, it becomes a trial of speed between rowing and +swimming, and an exciting race of many miles often takes place. In the +open sea "Ninoo" has a poor chance of escape, unless he gets a great +start of his pursuers; but the arctic coasts are generally studded +with islands, and, when he can do so, he makes first for one island, +then for another, crossing them, and taking to the water again on the +opposite side, while the votes have to make the entire circuit of +each. The sagacity of these animals is marvellous, and proverbial +among the Esquimaux, who study their habits in order to get hints for +their own guidance. When seals are in the water, the bear will swim +quietly among them, his great white head assuming the appearance of a +block of floating ice or snow, and when close to them he will dive and +seize the seals under the water. When the walrus are basking on the +rocks, "Ninoo" will climb the cliffs above them and loosen large +masses of rock, and then, calculating the curve to a nicety, launch +them upon his prey beneath. When a she-bear is attended by her cubs, +the Esquimaux will never attack the cubs until the mother has been +despatched; such is their fear of the vengeance with which, in the +event of her escaping, she follows up the slaughter of her offspring +by day and night with terrible pertinacity and fury. + +The Esquimaux stalk the reindeer much as we do the red deer in the +Highlands of Scotland; but the snow which lies in arctic regions +during the greater part of the year enables them to follow the same +herd of deer by their tracks for several days together. + +Such, then, are the life, the habits, the pursuits of the Esquimaux. +Pagan in religion, the stand in need of that phase which alone is able +to save their race, now perishing from the face of the earth. Their +life is a constant struggle with the climate in which they live and +the famine with which they are perpetually threatened. A hardy race of +hunters, they exhibit many natural virtues, considerable intelligence, +and a strong nationality. The true faith, if they embraced it, while +it secured their eternal interests, would at the same time be to them, +as it has been to so many savage races, the principal of a great +social regeneration. At present they are wasting away as a race, and +will soon become extinct. Polygamy has always been found to cause the +decrease and decay of a population; and any human society, however +simple, will fall to pieces when it is not animated by ideas of order +and justice. + +The Esquimaux occupy the extremities of human habitation in North +America; and if we pass from their territory to the south, we enter +upon that vast realm called "British America"--a region sufficient in +extent and resources, if developed by civilization, to constitute an +empire in itself. Of this vast territory the two Canadas alone, on the +north bank of the St. Lawrence River and the chain of mighty lakes +from which it flows, have been colonized by European settlers. The +remainder is inhabited by the nomad tribes of Indians and the wild +animals upon which they subsist, the British government being there +unrepresented except by the occasional forts and stations established +by the Hudson's Bay Company as centres for the traffic in furs, which +the Indians supply in the greatest abundance and variety. + +The French, who were among the first to profit by the discovery of +Columbus and to settle as colonists in the new hemisphere, have in +their conquests always planted the cross of Christ side by side with +the banner of France. Though they have failed to retain the dominion +of those colonies {563} which they founded, yet, to their glory be it +said, their missioners have not only kept alive that sacred flame of +faith which they kindled in their former possessions, but have spread +it from one end of the American continent to the other, beyond the +limits within which lucre leads the trader, and even among the remote +tribes who as yet reject all ordinary intercourse with the white man. +Monseigneur Faraud, now Bishop of Anemour and Vicar-Apostolic of +Mackenzie, has published his experiences during eighteen years of +missionary labor as a priest among the savages of the extreme north of +America, [Footnote 123] with the view of giving information to future +missioners in the same regions, and inspiring others to undertake the +conversion of this portion of the heathen world. The proceeds of the +sale of his book will be devoted to founding establishments for works +of corporal and spiritual mercy among the tribes of Indians in his +diocese. The narrative of his apostolic life is highly interesting. +Born of an old legitimist family in the south of France, some of whose +members had fallen victims to the Reign of Terror in 1793, and +carefully educated under the eye of a pious mother, he offered himself +to the service of God in the priesthood. Being of a vigorous +constitution and of an enterprising spirit, he was drawn to the work +of the foreign missions, and at the age of twenty-six he started for +North America. Landing at New York, he passed through Montreal to St. +Boniface, a settlement on the Red River, a few miles above the point +where it discharges its waters into the great Lake Winnipeg. Here he +fixed his abode for seven months, studying the language, and acquiring +the habits and mode of life of the natives. At the end of this time +the Indians of the settlement started on their annual expedition at +the end of the summer to the prairies of the west to hunt the +buffalo--an important affair, on which depends their supply of +buffalo-hides and beef for the winter. + + [Footnote 123: "Dix-huit Ans chez les Sauvages. Voyages et Missions + de Mgr. Faraud dans le Nord de l'Amérique Britannique. Regis Ruffet + et Cie. Paris, 1866."] + +For this expedition, which was organized with military precision and +most picturesque effect, one hundred and twenty skilful hunters were +selected, armed with guns and long _couteaux de chasse_, and mounted +on their best horses. A long train of bullock-carts followed in the +rear, with boys and women as drivers, carrying the tents and +provisions for encampment, and destined to bring home the game. The +priest accompanied them, saying mass for them every morning in a tent +set apart as the chapel, and night-prayers before retiring to rest in +the evening. + +In this way they journeyed for a week, making about thirty miles in +the day, and camping for the night in their tents. Let the reader, in +order to conceive an American "prairie," imagine a level and boundless +plain, reaching in every direction to the horizon, fertile and covered +with luxuriant herbage, and unbroken except by swelling undulations +and here and there occasional clumps of trees sprinkled like islets on +the ocean, or oases on the desert. After marching for a week across +the prairie, they came upon the tracks of a herd of buffaloes. The +Indians are taught from childhood, when they encounter a track, to +discern at once to what animal it belongs, how long it is since it +passed that way, and to follow it by the eye, as a hound does by +scent. For two days they marched in the track of the buffaloes, and +the second night the hunters brought a supply of fresh beef into +camp--they had killed some old bulls. These old bulls are found +single, or in parties of two or three, and always indicate the +proximity of a herd. Accordingly, on the following morning the herd +was discovered in the distance on the prairie, like a swarm of flies +on a green carpet. The hunters now galloped to the front, and called a +council of war behind some undulating ground about a mile and a half +{564} from the buffaloes, who, in number about three thousand, were +grazing lazily on the plain. All was now animation. It would be +difficult to say whether the keener interest was shown by the men or +the horses, who now, with dilated eyes and nostrils, ears pricked, and +nervous action, pawed the ground, impatient as greyhounds in the slips +and eager for the fray. The plan of action was soon agreed upon--a few +words were spoken in a low tone by the chief, and the horsemen +vanished with the rapidity of the wind. In about a quarter of an hour +they reappeared, having formed a circle round the buffaloes, whom they +now approached at a hand-gallop, concentrating their descent upon the +herd from every point of the compass. The effect of this strategy was +that, though they were soon discovered, time was gained. Whichever way +the herd pointed, they were encountered by an approaching horseman, +and they were thus thrown into confusion, until, massing themselves +into a disordered mob, they charged, breaking away through the line of +cavalry. Then began the race and the slaughter. A good horse, even +with a man on his back, has always the speed of a buffalo; but the +skill of a hunter is shown (besides minding his horse lest he gets +entangled in the herd and trampled to death, and keeping his presence +of mind during the delirium of the chase,) in selecting the youngest +and fattest beasts of the herd, in loading his piece with the greatest +rapidity--the Indians have no breech-loaders--and taking accurate aim +while riding at the top of his speed. In the space of a mile a skilful +buffalo-hunter will fire seven, eight, nine shots in this manner, and +at each discharge a buffalo will bite the dust. On the present +occasion the pursuit continued for about a mile and a half, and above +eight hundred buffaloes were safely bagged. When the chase was over, +there was a plentiful supply of fresh beef, the hides were carefully +stowed on the carts, the carcasses cut up, the meat dried and highly +spiced and made into pies, in which form it will keep for many months, +and forms a provision for the winter. The buffalo (which in natural +history would be called a bison) is the principal source of food and +clothing to the Indians who live within reach of the great western +prairies. But the forests also abound with elk, moose, and reindeer, +as well as the smaller species of deer, and smaller game of other +kinds, and the multitudes of animals of prey of all sizes which supply +the markets of Europe with furs. The abundance of fish in the lakes +and rivers is prodigious. The largest fish in these waters is the +sturgeon. This fish lies generally near the surface of the water: the +Indian paddles his canoe over the likely spots, and when he sees a +fish darts his harpoon into it, which is made fast by a cord to the +head of the canoe; the fish tows the canoe rapidly through the water +till he is exhausted, and is then despatched. Besides many other +inferior kinds of fish, they have the pike, which runs to a great size +in the lakes, and two kinds of trout--the smaller of these is the same +as that found in the rivers of England; the larger is often taken of +more than eighty pounds in weight. The Indians take these with spears, +nets, and baskets; but a trout weighing eighty pounds would afford +considerable sport to one of our trout-fishers of Stockbridge or +Driffield, if taken with an orthodox rod and line. + +A fortnight was devoted to the chase; and between two and three +thousand buffaloes having been killed, and the carts fully laden, the +party returned to St. Bonifice. The settlement of St. Bonifice was +founded by Lord Selkirk, who sent out a number of his Scotch +dependents as colonists, and induced some Canadian families to join +them. It was originally intended as a model Protestant colony; but the +demoralization and vice which broke out in the new settlement brought +it to the verge of temporal ruin. Lord Selkirk then called Catholics +to his aid, {565} and three priests were sent there. Religion took the +place of fanaticism, and ever since this epoch the colony has never +ceased to flourish and increase, and has become the centre of numerous +settlements in the neighborhood of friendly Indians converted to the +faith. This is one of many instances which might be quoted in which +the noxious weed of heresy has failed to transplant itself beyond the +soil which gave it birth. St. Boniface has been the residence of a +bishop since 1818, and is now the resting-place and point of departure +for all missioners bound for the northern deserts of America. It was +here that Mgr. Faraud spent eighteen months studying the languages of +the northern tribes of Indians. Lord Bacon says that "he that goeth +into a strange laud without knowledge of the language goeth to learn +and not to travel." This, which is true of the traveller, is much more +true of the missioner, as Mgr. Faraud soon found by experience. He +made several essays at intercourse with neighboring tribes, like a +young soldier burning with zeal and the desire to flesh his sword in +missionary work. But the reception he met with was most mortifying, +being generally told "not to think of teaching men as long as he spoke +like a child." He applied himself with renewed energy to acquire the +native language. + +The dialects of most of the tribes of the extreme north of America +(with the exception of the Esquimaux) are modifications of two parent +languages, the Montaignais and the Cree. By acquiring these Mgr. +Faraud was able to make himself understood by almost any of these +tribes after a short residence among them. Eighteen months spent at +St. Boniface served as a novitiate for his missionary work, at the end +of which time he received orders to start, early in the following +month, for Isle de la Crosse, a fort on the Beaver river, about 350 +leagues to the N.W. of St. Boniface. On his way thither he was the +guest of the Governor of the Hudson's Bay Company, at Norway House, +where he was most hospitably entertained. Mgr. Faraud bears witness to +the liberal and enlightened spirit in which the authorities of the +Hudson's Bay Company, as well as the government officials in Canada, +render every aid and encouragement in their power to the Catholic +missioners; and he quotes a speech made to him by Sir Edmund Head +(then Governor of Canada) showing the high estimation, and even favor, +in which the Catholic missioners are held by them. Whatever permanence +and stability our missions possess in these vast deserts is owing to +the protection and kind assistance rendered to them by the British +authorities; while, on the other hand, it would be hardly possible for +this powerful company of traders to maintain their present friendly +relations with Indian tribes, upon which their trade depends, without +the aid of the Catholic missioners. + +After five months spent at Isle de la Crosse, and three years after +his departure from Europe, Mgr. Faraud left for Atthabaska, one of the +most northerly establishments of the Hudson's Bay Company, whither the +various tribes of Indians, spread over an immense circuit 400 leagues +in diameter, come twice in the year, early in spring and late in the +autumn, to barter their furs, the produce of their winter and summer +hunting. This was his final destinatibn and field of apostolical +labor, it is often said that it is the happiness of the Red Indian to +be totally ignorant of money; and this, in a certain sense is true. +But money has no necessary connection with the precious metals or +bank-notes; and any medium of circulation which by common agreement +can be made to represent a determined value becomes money, in fact, if +not in name. Thus the market value of a beaver's skin in British +America varies little, and is nearly equivalent to an American dollar. +The Hudson's Bay Company have adopted this as the unit of their +currency, and the value of other furs {566} is reckoned in relation to +this standard. The following are some of the prices given to the +Indians for the furs ordinarily offered by them for sale: + + The skin of a black bear values from six to ten beavers; the skin of + a black fox, about six beavers; the skin of a silver fox, about five + beavers; the skin of an otter, from two to three beavers; the skin of + a pecari, from one to four beavers; the skin of a martin, from one + to four beavers; the skin of a red or white fox, about one beaver, + and so forth. + +Twice in the year the steamers and canoes of the company, laden with +merchandise, work their way up the lakes and rivers to these stations, +where the Indians assemble to meet them, and receive an equivalent for +their furs in arms, ammunition, articles for clothing, hardware, and +trinkets. + +Two of our countrymen, Viscount Milton, and Dr. Cheadle, have lately +published an account of their travels in British America, of which we +give a notice in another part of this number. [Footnote 124] The +description they give of the privations they endured and the +difficulties they had to overcome in merely traversing the country as +travellers, furnished as they were with all the resources which wealth +could command, while it reflects credit on their British pluck and +perseverance in attaining the object they had in view, gives us some +idea of the obstacles which present themselves to a missioner in these +regions, who has to take up his abode wherever his duty may call him, +and without any means of maintaining life beyond those which these +districts supply. The object of these gentlemen was to explore a line +of communication between Canada and British Columbia, with a view to +suggesting an overland route through British territory connecting the +Pacific with the Atlantic--a most important project in a political +point of view, upon which the success of the rising colony of Columbia +appears eventually to depend. The territory administered by the +Hudson's Bay Company, reaching as it does from the Atlantic to the +Pacific, from the coasts of Labrador on the N.E., to Vancouver's +Island on the S.W., contains an area nearly equal to that of the whole +of Europe. + + [Footnote 124: "The North-West Passage by Land." By Viscount Milton, + M.P., and W. B. Cheadle, M.D. London. 1865.] + +Mgr. Faraud remained fifteen years at Atthabaska. He found it a +solitary station-house, in the midst of deserts inhabited by +idolatrous savages; it is now a flourishing mission, with a vast +Christian population advancing in civilization, the capital of the +district to which it gives its name, and a centre of operation from +which missioners may act upon the whole north of British America, over +which he now has episcopal jurisdiction. Such results, as may be +supposed, have not been attained without labor and suffering. In the +commencement the mission was beset with difficulties and +discouragements. His first step was to build himself a house with logs +of wood, an act which was accepted by the savages as a pledge that he +intended to remain with them. A savage whom he converted and baptized +soon after his arrival, acted as his servant and hunted for him; while +with nets and lines he procured a supply of fish for himself when his +servant was unsuccessful in the chase. In this manner he for some time +maintained a life alternately resembling that of Robinson Crusoe and +St. Paul. He soon made a few conversions in his neighborhood, and in +the second year, with the aid of his catechumens, built a wooden +chapel, ninety feet long by thirty broad. He was now able, when the +tribes assembled in the spring and autumn, to converse with them, and +preach to them. They invited him to visit them in their own countries, +often many hundreds of miles distant; and these visits involved long +and perilous journeys, in which he several times nearly perished. In +the fourth year he began building a large church, surmounted by a +steeple, from which he swung a {567} large bell, which he procured +from Europe through the agents of the company. It was regarded as a +supernatural phenomenon by the savages when "the sound of the +church-going bell" was heard for the first time to boom over their +primeval forests. As soon as a savage became his catechumen, he taught +him to read, at the same time that he instructed him in religion. The +soil was gradually cultivated, crops were reared, and cows and sheep +introduced. In the tenth year a second priest was sent to his aid, who +was able to carry on his work for him at home while he was absent on +distant missions. + +There are thirteen distinct tribes inhabiting British America, and +Mgr. Faraud devotes a chapter to the distinctive characteristics of +each. But a general idea of these savages may be easily arrived at. +Most of us are familiar with the lively descriptions of the red man in +the attractive novels of Mr. Fenimore Cooper; and, though the stories +are fiction, these portraits of the Indians are drawn to the life. We +have most of us been struck by their taciturnity, their profound +dissimulation, the perseverance with which they follow up their plans +of revenge, the pride which prevents them from betraying the least +curiosity, the stoical courage with which they brave their enemies in +the midst of the most horrible sufferings, their caution, their +cruelty, the extraordinary keenness and subtlety of their senses. The +Indian savage is profoundly selfish; gratitude and sympathy for others +do not seem to enter into the composition of his nature. The same +stubborn fortitude with which he endures suffering seems to render him +indifferent to it in others. Intellectually he is slow in his power of +conception and process of reasoning, but is endowed with a marvellous +power of memory and reflection. He has a great fluency of speech, +which often rises to real eloquence; and there is a gravity and +maturity in his actions which is the fruit of meditation and thought. +Cases of apostasy in religion are very rare among the Indians. A +savage visited Mgr. Faraud soon after his arrival at Atthabaska. He +had come from the shores of the Arctic Ocean, where his tribe dwelt, a +distance of above six hundred miles, and asked some questions on +religious subjects. After listening to the priest's instruction on a +few fundamental truths, "I shall come to you again," he said, "when +you can talk like a man; at present you talk like a child." Three +years afterward he kept his promise; and immediately on arriving he +presented himself to the priest, and placed himself under instruction. +On leaving after the first instruction, he assembled a number of +heathen savages, at a short distance in the forest, and preached to +them for several hours. This continued for many weeks. In the morning +he came for instruction; in the afternoon he preached the truths he +had learned in the morning to his countrymen. Mgr. Faraud had the +curiosity to assist unseen at one of these sermons, and was surprised +to hear his own instruction repeated with wonderful accuracy and in +most eloquent language. In this way a great number of conversions were +made; and the instructions given to one were faithfully communicated +to the rest by this zealous savage. The name of this savage was +Dénégonusyè. When the time arrived for his tribe to return to their +own country, the priest proposed that he should receive baptism. "No," +he said; "I have done nothing as yet for Almighty God. In a year you +shall see me here again, and prepared for baptism." Punctual to his +promise, he returned the following spring. In the mean time he had +converted the greater portion of his tribe; he had taught them to +recite the prayers the priest had taught him; and he brought the +confessions of all the people who had died in the mean time among his +own people, which he had received on their death-beds, and which his +wonderful memory enabled him now to repeat word for word to the {568} +priest, baking him to give them absolution. Dénégonusyè was now told +to prepare for baptism; but he again insisted on preliminaries. First, +that he was to take the name of Peter, and wait to receive his baptism +on St. Peter's day--"Because," he said, "St. Peter holds the keys of +heaven, and is more likely to open to one who bears his name and is +baptized on his feast;" secondly, that he was to be allowed to fast +before his baptism forty days and nights, as our Blessed Lord did. On +the vigil of St. Peter's day he was so weak that he walked with +difficulty to the church; but on the feast, before daybreak, he +knocked loudly at the priests door and demanded baptism. He was told +to wait till the mass was finished. When mass was over, the priest was +about to preach to the people; but Dénégonusyè stood up and cried out, +"It is St. Peter's day; baptize me." The priest calmed the murmurs +which arose from the congregation at this interruption, and the eyes +of all were suddenly drawn to the figure of this wild neophyte of the +woods standing before the altar to receive the waters of regeneration. +A ray of light seemed to play round his head and rest upon him, as +though the Holy Ghost were impatient to take up his abode in this new +temple. + +Cases are not unfrequent of "half-caste" Indians reared in the woods +as savages claiming baptism from the priest as their "birthright." +They have never met a priest before, nor ever seen their Catholic +parent. They are not Christians, and do not know even the most +elementary doctrines of the church. Yet they have this strange faith +(as they say "by inheritance") through some mysterious transmission of +which God alone knows the secret. One of these "half-castes" met Mgr. +Faraud one day as he was travelling through the forest, and asked him +to baptize him. "I have the faith of my father," he said, "and demand +my birthright." Then, inviting him to his house, he added: "My wife +also desires baptism." The priest accompanied him to his +hunting-lodge, and was presented to his wife, a young savage lady of +some twenty years. She was a veritable Amazon, a perfect model of +symmetry of form and feminine grace; there was a savage majesty in her +gestures and gait; she was a mighty huntress, tamed the wildest +steeds, and was famed far and near for her prowess with the bow and +spear. She welcomed the stranger with courtesy, and immediately +presented him with a basket full of the tongues of elks which had been +the spoil of her bow in the chase of the previous day. But as soon as +she learned the errand on which he had come, her manner changed to +profound reverence, and, throwing herself on her knees with hands +clasped in the attitude of prayer, she asked him for a crucifix, "to +help me in my prayers," she said. The Indians do not pray. Her husband +did not know one article of the creed. Who taught her to pray?--to +venerate a priest?--to adore the mystery of the cross?--to desire +baptism, and yearn for admission to the unity of God's church? + +The three principal difficulties in the missioner's work among the +Indians are to "stamp out" (to use a recently-invented phrase) the +influence of their native magicians, and the practices of polygamy and +cannibalism--though several of the tribes are free from the last-named +vice. The magician, as we might expect, is always plotting to +counteract his advances and to revenge them when successful. When a +man has been possessed of half-a-dozen wives, and perhaps as yet +barely realized to himself the Christian idea of marriage, it is a +considerable sacrifice to part with all but one, and sometimes +perplexing to decide which he will retain and which he will part with. +Then the ladies themselves have generally a good deal to say upon this +question, and combinations arise in consequence, which are often very +serious and oftener still very ludicrous. + +At Fort Resolution, on the great Slave Lake, the missioner met with a +{569} warm reception from the neighboring tribes of Indians; and as +the greater part of them embraced Christianity, he set himself to work +in instructing them. He explained to them that Christian marriage was +a free act, and could never be valid where it was compulsory, and that +in this respect the wife was as independent as the husband. This was +quite a new doctrine to the savages, with whom it was an inveterate +custom to obtain their wives either by force or by purchasing them +from their parents. The doctrine, however, was eagerly received by the +women, who felt themselves raised by it to equal rights with their +husbands. The men were then instructed that the Christian religion did +not permit polygamy, and that as many of them as had more than one +wife must make up their minds which of them they would retain, and +then part with the rest. It would be difficult to explain the reason +why marriage, which is a serious and solemn contract, and which in +mystical signification ranks first among the sacraments, is the +subject of jests, and provokes laughter in all parts of the world. The +savages were no exception to this rule; and while they set themselves +to obey the commands of the church, they made their doing so the +occasion of much merriment. The following morning a crowd of them +waited upon the priest, each of whom brought the wife with whom he +intended to be indissolubly united. After an exhortation, which dwelt +upon the divine institution, sacramental nature, and mutual +obligations of matrimony, each couple was called up to the priest +after their names had been written down in the register. The first +couple who presented themselves were "Toqueiyazi" and "Ethikkan." +"Toqueiyaza," said the priest, "will you take Ethikkan to be your +lawful wife?" "Yes," was the answer. "Ethikkan, will you take +Toqueiyazi to be your lawful husband?" "No," said the bride, "on no +account." Then turning to the bridegroom, who shared the general +astonishment of all present, she continued, "You took me away by +force; you came to our tent and tore me away from my aged father; you +dragged me into the forests, and there I became your slave as well as +your wife, because I believed that you had a right to make yourself my +master: but now the priest himself has declared that God has given the +same liberty to the woman as to the man. I choose to enjoy that +liberty, and I will not marry you." Great was the sensation produced +by this startling announcement. A revolution had taken place. The men +beheld the social order which had hitherto obtained in their tribe +suddenly overthrown. The women trembled for the consequences which +this daring act might bring upon them. For a moment the issue was +doubtful; but the women, who always get the last word in a discussion, +in this case got the first also; they cried out that Ethikkan was a +courageous woman, who had boldly carried out the principles of the +Christian religion regardless of human respect; and what she had done +was in fact so clearly in accordance with what the priest had taught, +that the men at length acquiesced, and the "rights of woman" were +thenceforward recognized and established on the banks of the great +Slave Lake. + +In one of his winter journeys through the snow, attended by a party of +Indians and sledge drawn by dogs, Mgr. Faraud was arrested by a low +moaning sound which proceeded from a little girl lying under a hollow +tree covered with icicles. Her hands and feet were already +frostbitten, but she was still sufficiently conscious to tell him that +her parents had left her there to die. It is a common practice with +the savages to make away with any member of the family who is likely +to become a burden to them. The priest put the child on the sledge, +carried her home, and, with proper treatment, care, and food, she +recovered. She was instructed and baptized, receiving the name of +Mary. This child became the priest's consolation and joy, {570} a +visible angel in his house, gay and happy, and a source of happiness +and edification to others. She was one of those chosen souls on whom +God showers his choicest favors, and whom he calls to a close +familiarity with himself. But after a time the priest was obliged to +leave on a distant mission, having been called to spend the winter +with a tribe who wished to embrace Christianity, and whose territory +lay at a distance of several hundreds of miles. What was to be done +with Mary? To accompany him was impossible--to remain behind was to +starve. There was at that time, among his savage catechnmens, an old +man and his wife whose baptism he had deferred till the following +spring. This seemed to be the only solution of the difficulty. They +had no children of their own; they would take charge of Mary, and +bring her safe back to "the man of prayer" in the spring. Bitter was +the parting between little Mary and the priest; but there was the hope +of an early meeting in the following spring. The spring came, and the +priest returned; but the old savages and Mary came not. For weeks the +priest expected them, and then started to seek their dwelling, about +fifty miles distant from his own. He found their house empty, and the +man could nowhere be discovered. But in searching for him through the +forest, he descried an old woman gathering fuel. It was his wife. +Where was Mary? The old woman made evasive replies until the sternness +of the priest's manner terrified her into confession. "The winter had +been severe"--"they had run short of provisions"--"and--and--" in +short, _they had eaten her_. + +But if the difficulties, disappointments, and sufferings of the +missioner in these American deserts are great, requiring in him great +virtue and an apostolic spirit, his consolations are great also. The +grace of God is always given in proportion to his servants' need; and +in this virgin soil, where spurious forms of Christianity are as yet +unknown, the effects it produces are at time astounding. The missioner +is alternately tempted to elation and despair. He must know, to use +the words of the Apostle, "how to be brought low, and how to abound." +Monseigneur Faraud has now returned to his diocese to reap the harvest +of the good seed which he has sown, and to carry a Christian +civilization to the savages of the extreme north of America. He has +left his volume behind him to invite our prayers for his success, and +to remind those generous souls who are inspired to undertake the work +of evangelizing the heathen, that in his portion of the Lord's field +"the harvest is great and the laborers few." + +------ + +MISCELLANY. + + +_The Zoological Position of the Dodo_.--At a meeting of the +Zoological Society on the 9th of January last, Professor Owen read a +paper on the osteology of the Dodo, the great extinct bird of the +Mauritius. Our readers will remember that this bird has given rise to +a good deal of discussion from time to time as to its true affinities. +When Professor Owen was Curator of the Royal College of Surgeons' +Museum, he classed the Dodo along with the Raptorial birds. This +arrangement led to the production of the huge volume of Messrs. +Strickland and Melville, in which it was very ably demonstrated that +the bird belongs to the _Columbae_ or pigeon group. It is highly +creditable therefore to Professor Owen that upon a careful examination +of the specimens of the dodo's bones which have lately come under his +observation, he has consented to the view long ago expressed by Dr. +Melville. {571} The materials upon which Professor Owen's paper was +based consisted of about one hundred different bones belonging to +various parts of the skeleton, which had been recently discovered by +Mr. George Clark, of Mahéberg, Mauritius, in an alluvial deposit in +that island. After an exhaustive examination of these remains, which +embraced nearly every part of the skeleton, Professor Owen came to the +conclusion that previous authorities had been correct in referring the +dodo to the Columbine order, the variations presented, though +considerable, being mainly such as might be referable to the +adaptation of the dodo to a terrestrial life, and different food and +habits.--_Popular Science Review_. + + + +_Native Borax_.--A lake about two miles in circumference, from which +borax is obtained in extremely pure condition and in very large +quantity, has recently been discovered in California. The borax +hitherto in use has been procured by combining boracic acid, procured +from Tuscany, with soda. It is used in large quantities in England, +the potteries of Staffordshire alone consuming more than 1100 tons +annually. + + + +_Fall of the Temperature of Metals_.--At the last meeting of the +Chemical Society of Paris, Dr. Phipson called attention to the sudden +fall of temperature which occurs when certain metals are mixed +together at the ordinary temperature of the atmosphere. The most +extraordinary descent of temperature occurs when 207 parts of lead, +118 of tin, 284 of bismuth, and l,617 of mercury are alloyed together. +The external temperature being at +170° centigrade at the time of the +mixture, the thermometer instantly falls to--10° below zero. Even when +these proportions are not taken with absolute rigor, the cold produced +is such that the moisture of the atmosphere is immediately condensed +on the sides of the vessel in which the metallic mixture is made. The +presence of lead in the alloy does not appear to be so indispensable +as that of bismuth. Dr. Phipson explains this fact by assuming that +the cold is produced by the liquefaction at the ordinary temperature +of the air of such dense metals as bismuth, etc., in their contact +with the mercury. + + + +_Greek and Egyptian Inscriptions_.--The discovery of a stone bearing a +Greek inscription with equivalent Egyptian hieroglyphics, by Messrs. +Lepsius, Reinisch, Rösler, and Weidenbach, four German explorers, at +Sane, the former Tanis, the chief scene of the grand architectural +undertakings of Rameses the Second, is an important event for students +of Egyptology. The Greek inscription consists of seventy-six lines, in +the most perfect preservation, dating from the time of Ptolemy +Energetes I. (238 B.C.) The stone is twenty-two centimetres high, and +seventy-eight centimetres wide, and is completely covered by the +inscriptions. The finders devoted two days to copying the +inscriptions, taking three photographs of the stone, and securing +impressions of the hieroglyphics. Egyptologists are therefore +anxiously looking forward to the production of these facsimiles and +photographs. + +------ + +NEW PUBLICATIONS. + + + +MISCELLANEA: comprising Reviews, Lectures, and Essays, on Historical, +Theological, and Miscellaneous Subjects, By M. J. Spalding, D.D., +Archbishop of Baltimore. Fourth edition. 2 vols. 8vo. Pp. 807. +Baltimore: John Murphy & Co. 1866. + +This work has attained a well deserved popularity in the Catholic +community; and we hail with pleasure this new and enlarged edition of +it. Dr. Spalding has obtained the first place amongst the few of our +popular writers; and by his contributions to Catholic literature will +leave after him evidences of a "good fight" for the truth and faith of +Christ. The Miscellanea is a book for the times, such as the Church +always needs, and of which in later years we have sadly felt the want. +The prolific Anti-catholic press has deluged the country with {572} +publications of all sizes and of every character, unfair in their +statements of our doctrine and practice, and but too often marked by +bitter invective and wilful misrepresentation. The prejudices thus +engendered and deepened must be quickly and pointedly met before the +poison has had time to spread. We must not be content with a passive +confidence in the inherent strength of truth. In the long run truth +will prevail, we know; but there is no reason why truth should not +also prevail in the short run. Our American style of making a mental +meal is not very far different from that of our physical meal. We read +as fast as we eat, and are not over dainty. It is perfectly marvellous +what hashes of literary refuse your anti-church, anti-papal, and +liberal (sic) caterer has the impudence to set before a people +hungering after righteousness and truth: and it is equally marvellous +that these same people so hastily gulp down the newly spiced dish, +without evincing any suspicion of their having once or twice before +seen and rejected the same well-picked bones and unsavory morsels. + +Experience proves the necessity of providing for the American mind +good solid food, cooked _a la hâte_, and served with few +accompaniments. They are not partial to long introductory soups, and +totally disregard all side-dish references and quotations. Comparisons +aside, we need quick and popular answers to these popular and hasty +accusations. The difficulty we experience is in the fact that the +books, pamphlets, and tracts which disseminate error, contain such a +mass of illogical reasoning, and are based upon so many contradictory +principles, that to answer them all fully and logically would require +as many octavos as they possess pages. To give a fair, unsophistical, +and popular response to the questions of the day, as presented to us +in the forms we have mentioned, requires no little critical skill, and +real literary genius. In the perusal of the work before us we have had +frequent occasion to admire these characteristics of the distinguished +author. His trenchant blows decapitate at once a host of hydra-headed +errors, and he displays a happy faculty of marking and dealing with +those particular points which would be noticeable ones for the reader +of the productions which come under the judgment of his pen. We have +cause to congratulate ourselves that we have in him a popular writer +for the American people. An American himself, he understands his +countrymen, appreciates their merits, and is not blind to their +failings. It is true we find in these pages many qualifications of the +motives of Protestant antagonists and of Protestant movements +generally which we wish might be read only by those to whom they +apply; still the intelligent reader will not fail to observe that they +were called forth by the temper of the times in which these different +essays were written. The author himself observes in his preface to +this edition: "As some of them were written as far back as twenty +years, it is but natural to suppose that they occasionally exhibit +more spirit and heat in argument, than the cooler temper and riper +taste of advancing years would fully approve." And he very justly +adds: "While I am free to make this acknowledgment, justice to my own +convictions and feelings requires me to state, that in regard to the +facts alleged, I have nothing to retract, or even, materially to +modify, and that in the tone and temper I do not even now believe that +I set down aught in malice, or with any other than the good intent of +correcting error and establishing truth, without assuming the +aggressive except for the sake of what I believed to be the legitimate +defence of the Church of God." + +What the learned writer here hints at, we feel to be his own profound +convictions at the present day, and the wisdom of which the aspect of +controversy as it is now successfully being carried on here and in +Europe, also proves, that it is better to convince and to teach, than +to silence. We are not, however, altogether averse to sharp reproof or +good-natured ridicule where it is well deserved. Fools are to be +answered, says the Holy Scripture, according to their folly; and fools +not unfrequently attack the truth and do a deal of mischief. When a +writer or public orator presumes to talk nonsense, or appeals to the +vulgar prejudices or the fears of the ignorant, it becomes necessary +to exhibit both his character and motives. Calm and unimpassioned +argument is thrown away upon him, and is looked upon by the unthinking +masses as a confession of weakness. Few instances, if any, can be +shown where a Catholic polemic writer has treated an honorable {573} +antagonist with discourtesy: and we venture to say that the scathing +criticisms which are to be found in the work before us were richly +merited, and on the whole will be so judged by the dispassionate +reader. + +This edition contains upward of one hundred and sixty pages of new +matter, of equal interest with that of the fore-going editions. + +We give it our humble and earnest commendation, heartily wishing that +it may be widely circulated and read; confidently assured as we are +that it will do good, and advance the cause of truth. + + + +CHRISTIANITY, Its Influence on Civilization, and its Relation to +Nature's Religion: the "Harmonial" or Universal Philosophy. A Lecture. +By Caleb S. Weeks. New York: W. White & Co. 1866. + +What a pity Mr. Caleb S. Weeks was not born earlier! The whole world +has been running for nineteen centuries after the "Nazarene," and his +"religious system," when it might have been running after Mister +Weeks, and his shallow spiritualistic humanitarian philosophy! Who +knows? Reading effusions of this kind, we are reminded of Beppolo's +Fanfarone: + + "What is't that boils within me? + Is't the throes of nascent genius; or the strength + Of high immortal thoughts to find vent; + Or, is it wind?" + +------ + +REPORT OF THE HOLY CHILDHOOD IN +U. S. ANNALS OF THE HOLY CHILDHOOD, etc. 1866. + +We are in receipt of the above in French and in English, together with +various circulars and pictures illustrating and recommending the +extensive and admirable work of charity, called "The Holy Childhood" +It was founded by the Bishop of Nancy in France, the Rt. Rev. +Forbin-Janson: and its object is principally to rescue the abandoned +children of the Chinese, baptize them, and educate them as Christians. +Chinese parents have irresponsible control over the life and death of +their children, and hence the crime of infanticide is very common +amongst them, and that in its most revolting forms, the heartless +parents drowning them, leaving them to die by exposure, and even to be +eaten alive by dogs and swine. The poor will sell their young children +for a paltry sum, apparently without much regret. It was impossible +that Catholic charity should forever pass by unnoticed such a +plague-spot upon humanity. Wherever humanity suffers, she knows how to +inspire devoted souls with an ardent desire for the alleviation of its +misery. Founded only since 1843, the association of the Holy Childhood +has rescued and baptized three millions of these children. The report +for this year gives the number of those under education at +twenty-three thousand four hundred and sixteen. Such a noble work, so +truly Catholic in its spirit, needs no commendation of ours. We are +sure that all Catholic children, who are the ones particularly invited +to be members of it, and to contribute to its support, will vie with +each other in their prayers and offerings for its success. Catholic +charity effects great things with little means. The entire annual +expenditures of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith, with +which we hope our readers are well acquainted, did not amount, a few +years since, to more than eight thousand dollars. The Society of the +Holy Childhood asks for a contribution of only one cent a month from +each of its members, and requires each one to say daily a Hail Mary +and an invocation to the child Jesus, to have pity upon all poor pagan +children. + +We have been much interested in looking over the number of the annals +sent us, but we are sorry to see certain Religious Orders singled out +by name as not yet having made this enterprise a part of their work. +Those holy and devoted men need no stimulation of this kind to do all +that comes within their sphere for God's greater glory, and the +salvation of mankind: and one does not like one's name called out as a +delinquent by him who solicits, but has not yet obtained our name for +his subscription-list It is, to say the least, injudicious; but we +hope that the well-known zeal and ardent charity of the Directors of +this pious work will be sufficient apology for the incautious remark. + +{574} + +A BRIEF BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. +Compiled and arranged by the Rev. Charles Hole, B.A., Trinity College, +Cambridge; with additions and corrections by William A. Wheeler, M.A., +assistant editor of Webster's Dictionary, author of "A Dictionary of +Noted Names of Fiction," etc. 12mo, pp. 453. New-York: Hurd & +Houghton. 1866. + +We have here a most convenient little volume for reference, and one +that is also pretty accurate and complete. It merely gives the name of +the person, his country, profession, date of birth and death. The +American editor has done his work well, as well as it is possible, +humanly speaking, to compile such a work; but he certainly should have +added the name of Dr. J.V. Huntington to the Appendix, which contains +the names of those omitted by Mr. Hole, He has placed names there that +are not half so well known to men of letters as that of the late +lamented Dr. Huntington. We make special mention of his name, as the +American editor of this useful little book is the author of "A +Dictionary of Noted Names of Fiction," and must have read of the +author of "Alban," "The Forest," "Rosemary," "Pretty Plate," "Blonde +and Brunette," etc., etc. There may be other omissions, but this +author being one of the most prominent of our deceased American +Catholic writers, there can be no good excuse for the exclusion of his +name. + + + +DEVOTION TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY IN NORTH AMERICA. +By the Rev. Xavier Donald Macleod. With a Memoir of the author by the +Most Rev. John B. Purcell, D.D., Archbishop of Cincinnati. 8vo, pp. +467. Virtue & Yorston, New-York. + +Few Americans are well acquainted with the religious history of their +own country. It is to be regretted, for in the religious history of +any nation we find a revelation of life no less interesting, and far +more important than the detail of its political fortunes. Indeed, we +believe that history written so as to exclude the mention of religion +and its influence upon the social character, civilization, and the +national peculiarities of a people, would be as incomplete as it would +be unintelligible. Americans are educated to believe that this +country, with the exception of Mexico, has been a Protestant country +from the start; that its religious activity has been purely +Protestant; that Catholicity has been chiefly hitherto a work confined +to the spiritual ministrations of foreign priests to a foreign +immigrant population; and he is surprised to learn that the only +missionary work done on this continent worthy of record on the page of +its history is wholly Catholic. And we venture to affirm that the only +picture of the religion of America, either of its early or its later +days, which will be looked upon by future generations with pleasure +and pride, will be that which the Catholic Church presents in the +apostolic labors of her missionaries, through which the savage Indian +becomes the docile Christian; the rude, uneducated masses, whether +white or black, are guided, instructed, and saved; the truth and grace +of the holy faith is preached in hardship, toil, privation, +persecution, and death. It is true that the book before as treats of +religion in America with only the devotion toward our Blessed Lady as +its particular theme, but it necessarily offers us a view of the +progress of the Catholic religion in every part of the continent. It +is written in a most charming style, replete with graphic +descriptions, and marked throughout by that tone of enthusiastic +loyalty to the faith so characteristic of the gifted and lamented +author. There is no portion of the work we have read with greater +interest than that which concerns the conversion and religious life of +the Indians. There has been no truer type of the Catholic missionary +than is displayed by those devoted priests, who came to this country +burning with the desire to win its savage aborigines to the faith of +Christ. Let us give a little extract: + + "For thirty years now has Father Sebastian Rasle dwelt in the + forest, teaching to its wild, red children the love of God and Mary. + He is burned by sun and tanned by wind until he is almost as red as + his parishioners. The languages of the Abenaki and Huron, the + Algonquin and Illinois, are more familiar to him than the tongue in + which his mother taught him the Ave Maria. The huts of Norridgewock + contain his people; the river Kennebec flows swiftly past his + dwelling to the sea. There he has built a church--handsome, he + thinks and says; perhaps it would not much excite our luxurious + imagination. At any rate, the altar is handsome; and he has gathered + a store of copes and chasubles, albs and embroidered stoles for the + dignity of the holy service. He has trained, also, as many as forty + Indian boys in the ceremonies, and, in their crimson cassocks and + white surplices, they aid the sacred pomp. Besides the church, there + are two chapels, one on the road which leads to the forest, {575} + where the braves are wont to make a short retreat before they start + to trap and hunt; the other on the path to the cultivated lands, + where prayers are offered when they go to plant or gather in the + harvest. The one is dedicated to the guardian angel of the tribe, + the other to our most holy mother, Mary Immaculate. To adorn this + latter is the especial emulation of the women. Whatever they have of + jewels, of silk stuff from the settlements, or delicate embroidery + of porcupine-quill, or richly tinted moose-hair, is found here; and + from amidst their offerings rises, white and fair, the statue of the + Virgin; and her sweet face looks down benignantly upon her swarthy + children, kneeling before her to recite their rosaries. One + beautiful inanimate ministrant to God's worship they have in + abundance--light from wax candles. The wax is not precisely _opus + apium_, but it is a nearer approach to it than you find in richer + and less excusable places. It is wax from the berry of the laurels, + which cover the hills of Maine. And to the chapel every night and + morning come all the Indian Christians. At morning they make their + prayer in common, and assist at mass, chanting, in their own + dialect, hymns written for that purpose by their pastor. Then they + go to their employment for the day; he to his continuous, orderly, + and ceaseless labor. The morning is given up to visitors, who come + to their good father with their sorrows and disquietudes; to ask his + relief against some little injustice of their fellows; his advice on + their marriage or other projects. He consoles this one, instructs + that, reestablishes peace in disunited families, calms troubled + consciences, administers gentle rebuke, or gives encouragement to + the timid. The afternoon belongs to the sick, who are visited in + their own cabins. If there be a council, the black-robe must come to + invoke the Holy Spirit on their deliberations; if a feast, he must + be present to bless the viands and to check all approaches to + disorder. And always in the afternoon, old and young, warrior and + gray-haired squaw, Christian and catechumen, assemble for the + catechism. When the sun declines westward, and the shadows creep + over the village, they seek the chapel for the public prayer, and to + sing a hymn to St. Mary. Then each to his own home; but before + bed-time, neighbors gather again, in the house of one of them, and + in antiphonal choirs they _sing_ their beads, and with another hymn + they separate for sleep." + +The work does not need any commendation at our hands; it will +assuredly become popular wherever it is introduced, whether it be into +the libraries of colleges or literary associations, or into the family +circle. + + +LIFE AND CAMPAIGNS OF LIEUT.-GENERAL U. S. GRANT, +from his Boyhood to the Surrender of General Lee; including an +accurate account of Sherman's great march from Chattanooga to +Washington, and the final official Reports of Sheridan, Meade, +Sherman, and Grant; with portraits on steel of Stanton, Grant and his +Generals, and other illustrations. By Rev. P.G. Headley, author of +Life of Napoleon, Life of Josephine, etc., etc. 8vo, pp. 720. New +York: Derby & Miller Publishing Co. 1866. + +The title of this work is sufficiently ambitious to justify the +expectation that it is really a valuable contribution to our national +historical literature. Such is, however, not the case. The only +valuable portions of the book are the reports of different commanding +generals, which are appended. The style is of the inflated, +mock-heroic order, of which we have had a surfeit, especially since +the commencement of the late war. The descriptions of battles remind +us of a certain class of cheap battle pictures, in which smoke, +artillery horses, and men are arranged and rearranged to suit any +desired emergency. One is left in doubt in reading the account of the +famous charge on the left at Fort Donelson, whether C. F. Smith or +Morgan L. Smith was the officer in command. Morgan L. Smith was a +brave and valuable officer, but the decisive charge in question was +led by C. F. Smith, and was one of the most remarkable and brilliant +military exploits of the war. We cannot pretend to wade through all +the crudities, platitudes, and mistakes of this bulky volume, +manufactured to order, not written. There is one glaring blunder or +intentional perversion, in the desire to please every body, which all +cannot pass over. The relief of Major-General McClernand in front of +Vicksburg is made to appear to be a reluctant act on the part of +General Grant. Mr. Headley represents General Grant as complying with +an urgent military necessity, at the cost of _his friend_. This is all +sheer nonsense. There was and could be no friendship between Grant and +McClernand. One might as well expect fellowship between light and +darkness. There was a military necessity to remove McClernand, for +every day that he commanded a corps imperilled the safety of the whole +army. Sherman and McPherson united in demanding his removal, {576} and +General Grant chose the right moment to relieve him--when he had +demonstrated his incapacity, or worse, to the mind of every soldier on +the field, and ruined forever the false popularity he had acquired as +a politician of the lowest grade. Mr. Headley makes an unsuccessful +effort to glaze over General Wallace's unaccountable delay in coming +up to the field of' Shiloh. In fact, he deals in indiscriminate praise +for an obvious reason, and like all such people is certain to get very +little himself from his critics. The book no doubt sells, and will +probably stimulate a desire to read the authentic histories which will +in due season appear, and of which Wm. Swinton's History of the Army +of the Potomac (not without its faults) is a specimen. We expect a +first-class scientific History of the War. Major-General Schofield is +the man to write it, when the proper time arrives. + + +POETRY, LYRICAL, NARRATIVE, AND SATIRICAL, OF THE CIVIL WAR. +Selected and edited by Richard Grant White. 12mo, pp. 384. American +News Co. + +Mr. White's preface to this volume of selected poetry is the best +criticism which the book could have, and is an exhaustive and elegant +essay. It is a remarkably complete collection of the pieces which have +appeared from time to time in the progress of the war. The value of +such a work is in its completeness less than in the merits of the +compositions selected. We should be glad to see another edition, +containing some which have been overlooked or omitted. The value of +such a collection increases with time, and it will be eagerly sought +for and highly prized when the hateful, painful, and commonplace +features of the struggle have softened into the elements of pleasing +reminiscence and romance, and become the incentives to heroism and +patriotism to unborn children. + + +A TEXT BOOK ON PHYSIOLOGY. +For the use of Schools and Colleges, being an Abridgement of the +author's larger work on Human Physiology. By John William Draper, +M.D., LL.D., author of A Treatise on Human Physiology, and A History +of the Intellectual Development of Europe, etc. 12mo, pp. 376. Harper +& Brothers, 1866. + + +A TEXT BOOK ON CHEMISTRY. +For the use of Schools and Colleges. By Henry Draper, M.D., Professor +Adjunct of Chemistry and Natural History in the University of New +York. 12mo, pp. 507. Harper & Brothers. 1866. + +The Drapers, father and sons, present the rare example in this +materialistic age and most materialistic city, of a whole family +devoted to literary and scientific pursuits, and working in that +harmony which the sincere and loyal pursuit of science is sure to +produce. Although we have had occasion to differ with Professor Draper +in his philosophical and some of his political deductions, we admire +his intellect and attainments, and in the purely scientific order +consider him entitled to the highest consideration and respect. He is +a close student and an original observer, and we believe him ardently +and faithfully devoted to the ascertainment of exact scientific truth. + +His sons are men of great promise, and have already done more in their +short lives in the respective departments of natural science than many +of twice their age. + +Catholicity courts scientific investigation and verification in every +department of inquiry, and delights to honor all men who devote their +lives to these self-denying labors. There is, so to speak, a sanctity +of science. Science inevitably tends toward religion, and is the most +powerful safeguard of society and civilization next to religion. + +The two manuals whose titles are given above are excellent of their +kind, and we cordially recommend them to our schools and colleges. + + +BOOKS RECEIVED. + +From D. Appleton & Co., New-York. The Annual Cyclopaedia and Register +of Important Events of the Year 1865. 8vo, pp. 850. + + +From Hurd & Houghton, New-York. Revolution and Reconstruction. Two +Lectures delivered in the Law School of Harvard College, in January, +1865, and January, 1866, by Joel Parker. 8vo, pamphlet, pp. 89. +Shakespeare's Delineations of Insanity, Imbecility, and Suicide. By A. +O. Kellogg, M.D., Assistant Physician State Lunatic Asylum, Utica, +N.Y. 12mo. pp. 204. Pictures of Country Life. By Alice Cary. 18mo, pp. +859. + + +From D. & J. Sadlier & Co., New-York. Parts 18. 19, and 20 of +D'Artaud's Lives of the Popes; and Vol II. of Catholic Anecdotes. + + + +From P. O'Shea, New-York. Nos. 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32. and 33 of +Darras's History of the Catholic Church. + + +From A. D. F. Randolph, New-York. The Lady of La Garaye. By the Hon. +Mrs. Norton, 12mo, pp. 115. + + + +From J. J. O'Connor & Co., Newark, N.J. Jesus and Mary. A Catholic +hymn-book. Selected from various sources, and arranged for the use of +the children of St. Patrick's Cathedral, Newark, N.J. 12mo, pp. 76, +paper. + +------ + +{577} + +THE CATHOLIC WORLD. + +VOL. III., NO. 17.--AUGUST, 1866. + + + +[ORIGINAL.] + +PROBLEMS OF THE AGE. + + +V. + +THE REVELATION OF THE SUPERNATURAL ORDER, +AND ITS RELATION TO THE PRIMITIVE IDEA OF REASON. + +Our reason in apprehending the intelligible is advertised at the same +time of the existence of the super-intelligible. It is necessary to +explain here the sense in which this latter term is used. It is +evident that it can be used only in a relative and not in an absolute +sense. That which is absolutely without the domain of the intelligible +is absolutely unintelligible and therefore a non-entity. The +super-intelligible must therefore be something which is intelligible +to God, but above the range either of all created reason, or of human +reason in its present condition. It will suffice for the present to +consider it under the latter category. + +Our reason undoubtedly apprehends in its intelligible object the +existence of something which is above the range of human intelligence +in its present state. The intimate nature of material and spiritual +substances is incomprehensible. Much more, the intimate nature or +essence of the infinite divine being. All science begins from and +conducts to the incomprehensible. Any one who wishes to satisfy +himself of this may peruse the first few chapters of Mr. Herbert +Spencer's "Principles of Philosophy." That portion of the first +article of the creed which reason can demonstrate; namely, the being +of God, the Creator of the world, in which is included also the +immortality of the soul, and the principle of moral obligation; +advertises therefore, of an infinite sphere of truth which is above +our comprehension. The natural suggests the supernatural, in which it +has its first and final cause, its origin and ultimate end. The +knowledge of the natural, therefore, gives us a kind of negative +knowledge of the super-natural, by advertising us of its own +incompleteness, and of the want of any principle of self-origination +or metaphysical finality in itself. A system of pure naturalism which +represents the idea of reason under a form which satisfies completely +the intelligence without introducing the supernatural, is impossible. +What is nature, and what do we mean by the natural? Nature is simply +the aggregate of finite entities, and the natural is {578} what may be +predicated of these entities. A system of pure naturalism would +therefore give a complete account of this aggregate of finite +entities, without going beyond the entities themselves, that is, +without transcending the limits of space, time, the finite and the +contingent. Such a system is not only incapable of rational +demonstration, but utterly unthinkable. For, when the mind has gone to +its utmost length in denying or excluding every positive affirmation +of anything except nature, there remains always the abyss of the +unknown from which nature came and to which it tends, even though the +unknown may be declared to be unknowable. Those who deny the +super-intelligible and the supernatural, therefore, are mere sceptics, +and cannot construct a philosophy. Those who affirm a First Cause, in +which second causes and their effects are intelligible, affirm the +supernatural. For the first and absolute Cause cannot be included +under the same generic term with the second causes and finite forces +of nature. The more perfectly and clearly they evolve the full +theistic conception of pure reason, the more distinctly do they affirm +the supernatural, because the idea of God as the infinite, +intelligible object of his own infinite intelligence is +proportionately explicated and apprehended. It is explicated and +apprehended by means of analogies derived from finite objects, but +these analogies suggest that there is an infinite something behind +them which they represent. By these analogies we learn in a measure +the meaning of the affirmation _Ut Deus sit_. We do not learn _Quid +sit Deus_, but still we cannot help asking the question, What is God, +what is his essence? We know that he is the adequate object of his own +intelligence and will, and therefore we cannot help asking the +question what is that object, what does God see and love in himself, +in what does his most pure and infinite act consist, what is his +beatitude? Our reason is advertised of an infinite truth, reality, or +being, which it cannot comprehend, that is, of the super-intelligible. +Those who base their philosophy on pure theism, or a modified +rationalistic Christianity, are therefore entirely mistaken when they +profess to be anti-supernaturalists, and to draw a distinctly marked +line between themselves and the supernaturalists. The distinction is +only between more or less consistent supernaturalists. Those who are +at the remotest point from the Catholic idea, see that those who are a +little nearer have no tenable standing-point, and these see it of +those who are nearer than they are, and so on, until we come to the +Anglicans and the Orientals. But the extremists themselves have no +better standing-point than the intermediaries, and in their theistic +conception have admitted a principle from which they can be driven by +irresistible and invincible logic to the Catholic Church. For the +present, we merely aim to show that they are compelled to admit the +supernatural when they affirm God as the first and final cause of the +world. In affirming this, they affirm that nature has its origin and +final reason in the supernatural, or in an infinite object above +itself, which human reason cannot comprehend. That is, they affirm +super-intelligible and super-natural relations, of man and the +universe. These relations must be regulated and adjusted by some law. +This law is either the simple continuity of the original creative act +which explicates itself through con-creative second causes in time and +space, or it is this, and in addition to this, an immediate act of the +Creator completing his original, creative act by subsequent acts of an +equal or superior order, which concur with the first towards the final +cause of the creation. Whoever takes the first horn of this dilemma is +a pure naturalist in the only sense of the word which is intelligible. +That is, while he is a supernaturalist, in maintaining that nature has +its first and final cause in the supernatural, or in {579} God; he is +a naturalist in maintaining that man has no other tendency to his +final cause except that given in the creative act that is essential to +nature, and no other mode prescribed for returning to his final cause +than the explication of this natural tendency, according to natural +law. Consequently, reason is sufficient, without revelation; the will, +without grace; humanity, without the incarnation; society, or the race +organized under law, without the church. It is precisely in the method +of treating this thesis of naturalism that the divarication takes +place between the great schools of Catholic theology and between the +various systems of philosophy, whether orthodox or heterodox, which +profess to base themselves on the Christian idea, or to ally +themselves with it. It is not easy to find the clue which will lead us +safely through this labyrinth and preserve us from deviating either to +the right hand or to the left, by denying too much on the one hand to +the naturalists, or conceding too much to them on the other. +Nevertheless it is necessary to search for it, or to give up all +effort to discuss the question before us, and to prove from principles +furnished by nature and reason the necessity of accepting a +supernatural revelation. + +The true thesis of pure naturalism or rationalism is, that God in +educating the human race for the destiny in view of which he created +it, merely explicates that which is contained in nature by virtue of +the original creative act, without any subsequent interference of the +divine, creative power. He develops nature by natural laws alone, in +one invariable mode. The physical universe evolves by a rigid sequence +the force of all the second causes which it contains. The rational +world is governed by the same law, and so also is the moral and +spiritual world. The intellectual and spiritual education of the human +race develops nothing except natural reason, and the natural, +spiritual capacity of the soul. Reason extends its conquests by a +continual progress in the super-intelligible realm, reducing it to the +intelligible, and eternally approaching to the comprehension of the +infinite and absolute truth. The spiritual capacity advances +constantly in the supernatural realm, reducing it to the natural, and +eternally approaching the infinite and absolute good or being. All +nature, all creation, is on the march, and its momentum is the +impulsive force given it by the creative impact that launched it into +existence and activity. + +Planting themselves on this thesis, its advocates profess to have _à +priori_ principle by which they prove the all-sufficiency of nature +for the fulfilment of its own destiny, and reject as an unnecessary or +even inconceivable intrusion, the affirmation of another divine +creative act, giving a new impact to nature, superadding a new force +to natural law, subordinating the physical universe to a higher end, +implanting a superior principle of intelligence and will in the human +soul, and giving to the race a destination above that to which it +tends by its own proper momentum. They refuse to entertain the +question of a supernatural order, or an order which educates the race +according to a law superior to that of the evolution of the mere +forces of nature; and in consequence of this refusal, they logically +refuse to entertain the question of a supernatural revelation +disclosing this order, and of a supernatural religion in which the +doctrines, laws, institutions, forces and instruments of this order +are organized, for the purpose of drawing the human race into itself. +This is the last fortress into which heterodox philosophy has fled. +The open plains are no longer tenable. The only conflict of magnitude +now raging in Christendom is between the champions of the Catholic +faith and the tenants of this stronghold. It is a great advantage for +the cause of truth that it is so. The controversy is simplified, the +issues are clearly marked, the opportunity is favorable for an {580} +unimpeded and decisive collision between the forces of faith and +unbelief, and the triumph of faith will open the way for Christianity +to gain a new and mighty sway over the mind, the heart, and the life +of the civilized world. This stronghold is no more tenable than any of +the others which have been successively occupied and abandoned. Its +tenants have gained only a momentary advantage by retreating to it. +They escape certain of the inconsistencies of other parties and evade +the Catholic arguments levelled against these inconsistencies. But +they can be driven by the irresistible force of reason from their +position, and made to draw the Catholic conclusion from their own +premises. + +We do not say this in a boastful spirit, or as vaunting our own +ability to effect a logical demolition of rationalism. Rather, we +desire to express our confidence that the reason of its advocates +themselves will drive them out of it, and that the common judgment of +an age more enlightened than the present will demolish it. It is our +opinion, formed after hearing the language used by a great number of +men of all parties, and reading a still greater number of their +published utterances, that the most enlightened intelligence of this +age in Protestant Christendom has reached two conclusions; the first +is, that the Catholic Church is the true and genuine church of +Christianity; and the second, that it is necessary to have a positive +religion which will embody the same idea that produced Christianity. +The combination and evolution of these two intellectual convictions +promise to result in a return to Catholicism. And there are to be seen +even already in the writings of those who have given up the positive +Christianity of orthodox Protestantism, indications of the workings of +a philosophy which tends to bring them round to the positive +supernatural faith of the Catholic church. It is by these grand, +intellectual currents moving the general mind of an age, that +individual minds are chiefly influenced, more than by the thoughts of +other individual minds. Individual thinkers can scarcely do more than +to detect the subtle element which the common intellectual atmosphere +holds in solution, to interpret to other thinkers their own thoughts, +or give them a direction which will help them to discover for +themselves some truth more integral and universal than they now +possess. Therefore, while confiding in the power of the integral and +universal truth embodied in the Catholic creed to bear down all +opposition and vanquish every philosophy which rises up agamst it, we +do not arrogate the ability to grasp and wield this power, and to +exhibit the Catholic idea in its full evidence as the integrating, +all-embracing form of universal truth. It is proposed in an honorable +and conciliatory spirit to those who love truth and are able to +investigate it for themselves. Many things must necessarily be +affirmed or suggested in a brief, unpretending series of essays, which +admit of and require minute and elaborate proof, such as can only be +given in an extensive work, but merely sketched here after the manner +of an outline engraving which leaves out the filling up belonging to a +finished picture. + +To return from this digression. We have begun the task of indicating +how that naturalism or pure rationalism which affirms the theistic +conception logically demonstrable by pure reason, can only integrate +itself and expand itself to a universal Theodicy or doctrine of God, +in a supernatural revelation. + +If the opposite theory of pure naturalism were true, it ought to +verify itself in the actual history of the human race, and in the +actual process of its education. The idea of the supernatural ought to +be entirely absent from the consciousness of the race. For, on the +supposition of that theory, it has no place in the human mind--and no +business in the world. If unassisted nature and reason suffice for +{581} themselves they ought to do their work alone, and do it so +thoroughly that there would be no room for any pretended supernatural +revelation to creep in. The history of mankind ought to be a +continuous, regular evolution of reason and nature, like the movements +of the planets; the human race ought to have been conscious of this +law from the beginning, and never to have dreamed of the supernatural, +never to have desired it. + +Philosophy ought to have been, from the first, master of the +situation, and to have domineered over the whole domain of thought. + +The reverse of this is the fact. The history of the human race, and +the whole world of human thought, is filled with the idea of the +supernatural. The philosophy of naturalism is either a modification +and re-combination of principles learned from revelation, or a protest +against revelation and an attempt to dethrone it from its sway. It has +no pretence of being original and universal, but always pre-supposes +revelation as having prior possession, and dating from time +immemorial. Now human nature and human reason are certainly competent +to fulfil whatever task God has assigned them. They act according to +fixed laws, and tend infallibly to the end for which they were +created. The judgments of human reason and of the human race are valid +in their proper sphere. And therefore the judgment of mankind that its +law of evolution is in the line of the supernatural is a valid +judgment. Revelation has the claim of prescription and of universal +tradition. Naturalism must set aside this claim and establish a +positive claim for itself based on demonstration, before it has any +right even to a hearing. It can do neither. It cannot bring any +conclusive argument against revelation, nor can it establish itself on +any basis of demonstration which does not pre-suppose the instruction +of reason by revelation. + +It cannot conclusively object to revelation. The very principle of +law, that is, of the invariable nexus between cause and effect, which +is the ultimate axiom of naturalism, is based on the perpetual +concurrence of the first cause with all secondary causes, that is, the +perpetuity of the creative act by which God perpetually creates the +creature. There is no reason why this creative act should explicate +all its effects at once or merely conserve the existences it has +produced, and not explicate successively in space and time the effects +of its creative energy. The hypothesis that the creative power can +never act directly in nature except at its origin, and must afterwards +merely act through the medium of previously created causes in a direct +line, is the sheerest assumption. Some of the most eminent men in +modern physical science maintain the theory of successive creations. +There may be the same direct intervention of creative power in the +moral and spiritual world. Miracles, revelations, supernatural +interventions for the regeneration and elevation of the human race, +are not improbable on any _à priori_ principle. The artifice by which +the entire tradition of the human race is set aside, and a demand made +to prove the supernatural _de novo_, is unwarrantable and unfair. The +supernatural has the title of prescription, and the burden of proof +lies only upon the particular systems, to show that they are genuine +manifestations of it, and not its counterfeits. The existence of a +reality which may be counterfeited is a fair postulate of reason, +until the contrary is demonstrated, and something positive of a prior +and more universal order is logically established from the first +principles of reason. We are not to be put off with assurances like a +fraudulent debtor's promises of payment, that our doubts and +uncertainties, will be satisfied after two thousand or two hundred +thousand years. Exclude the supernatural, and natural reason will +have, and can have nothing in the future, beyond the universal data +and principles which we have now and have had from the beginning, with +which to solve its problems. The {582} connection between mind and +matter, the origin and destination of the soul, the future life, the +state of other orders of intelligent beings, the condition of other +worlds, will be as abstruse and incapable of satisfactory settlement +then as now. If we are to gain any certain knowledge concerning them, +it must be in a supernatural way. And what conclusive reason is there +for deciding that we may not? Who can prove that some of that infinite +truth which surrounds us may not break through the veil, that some of +the intelligent spirits of other spheres may not be sent to enlighten +and instruct us? [Footnote 125] + + [Footnote 125: That is, who can prove it from reason alone, without + the evidence of Revelation itself that it is already completed?] + +One of the ablest advocates of naturalism, Mr. William R. Alger, has +admitted that it is possible, and oven maintains that it has already +taken place. In his erudite work on the "History of the Doctrine of a +Future Life," he maintains the opinion that Jesus Christ is a most +perfect and exalted being, who was sent into this world by God to +teach mankind, who wrought miracles and really raised his body to life +in attestation of his doctrine, although he supposes that he laid it +aside again when he left the earth. He distinctly asserts the +infallibility of Christ as a teacher, and of the doctrine which he +actually taught with his own lips. Here is a most distinct and +explicit concession of the principle of supernatural revelation. To +those who heard him he was a supernatural and infallible teacher. In +so far as his doctrine is really apprehended it is for all generations +a supernatural and infallible truth. It has regenerated mankind, and +Mr. Alger believes it is destined, when better understood, to carry +the work of regeneration to a higher point in the future. It is true, +he does not acknowledge that the apostles were infallible in +apprehending and teaching the doctrine of Christ. But he must admit, +that in so far as they have apprehended and perpetuated it, and in so +far as he himself and others of his school now apprehend it more +perfectly than they did, they apprehend supernatural truth and +appropriate a supernatural power. Besides, once admitting that Christ +was an infallible teacher, it is impossible to show why he could not +do what so many philosophers have done, communicate his doctrine in +clear and intelligible terms, so that the substance of it would be +correctly understood and perpetuated. Miss Frances Cobbe, admitted to +be the best expositor of the doctrine of the celebrated Theodore +Parker, in her "Broken Lights," and other similar writers, give to the +doctrine and institutions of Christ a power that is superhuman and +that denotes the action of a superhuman intelligence. Those who +prognosticate a new church, a new religion, a realization of ideal +humanity on earth, cannot integrate their hypothesis in anything +except the supernatural, and must suppose either a new outburst of +supernatural life from the germ which Christ planted on the earth, or +the advent of another superhuman Redeemer. + +Dr. Brownson while yet only a transcendental philosopher on his road +to the Church, exhibited this thought with great power and beauty, in +a little book entitled "New Views." The dream of a new redemption of +mankind in the order of temporal perfection and felicity was never +presented with greater argumentative ability or portrayed in more +charming colors, at least in the English language; and never was any +thing made more clear than the necessity of superhuman powers for the +actual fulfilment of this bewitching dream. [Footnote 126] + + [Footnote 126: That is, bewitching to those who do not believe in + something for more sublime, the restoration of all things in Christ, + foretold in the Scriptures.] + +Whether we look backward or forward, we confront the idea of the +supernatural. This is enough to prove its reality. There are no +universal pseudo-ideas, deceits, or illusions. That which is universal +is true. We have {583} therefore only to inspect the idea of the +supernatural, to examine and explicate its contents, to interrogate +the universal belief and tradition of mankind, to study the history of +the race, and unfold the wisdom of the ancients, and the result will +be truth. We shall obtain true and just conceptions of the original, +universal, eternal idea, in which all particular forms of science, +belief, law, and human evolution in all directions, coalesce and +integrate themselves as in a complete whole including all the +relations of the universe to God, as First and Final Cause. + +We must now go back to the point where we left off, after establishing +as the first principle of all science and faith the pure theistic +doctrine respecting the first and final cause, or the origin and end +of all things in necessary being, that is, God. We have to show the +position of this doctrine in the conception of supernatural +revelation, and its connection with the other doctrines which express +the supernatural relation of the human race and the universe to God. + +The conception of the supernatural in its most simple and universal +form, is the conception of somewhat distinct from and superior to the +complete aggregate of created forces or second causes. In this sense, +it is identical with the conception of first and final cause. It may +be proper here to explain the term Final Cause, which is not in common +use among English writers. It expresses the ultimate motive or reason +for which the universe was created, the end to which all things are +tending. When we say that God is necessarily the final cause, as well +as the first cause, of all existing things, we mean that he could have +had no motive or end in creating, extrinsic to his own being. All that +proceeds from him as first cause must return to him as final cause. +From this it appears that the conception of nature in any theistic +system implies the supernatural; because it implies a cause and end +for nature above itself. The supernatural can only be denied by the +atheist, who maintains that there is nothing superior to what the +Theist calls second causes, or by the Pantheist, who either identifies +God with nature, or nature with God. A Theist cannot form any +conception of pure nature or a purely natural order, except as +included in a supernatural plan; because his natural order originates +in a cause and tends toward an end above and beyond itself, and is not +therefore its own adequate reason. As we have already seen, reason, by +virtue of its original intuition of the infinite, is advertised of +something infinitely beyond all finite comprehension. By apprehending +its own limitation, and the finite, relative, contingent existence of +all things which are, it is advertised of an infinite unknown, and +thus has a negative knowledge of the supernatural. By the light of the +creative act in itself and in the universe, it apprehends the being of +God as reflected in his works and made intelligible by the similitude +of created existences to the Creator. It apprehends that there is an +infinite being, whose created similitude is in itself and all things; +a primal uncreated light, the cause of the reflected light in which +nature is intelligible. Therefore it apprehends the supernatural. But +it does not directly and immediately perceive what this infinite being +or uncreated light is, and cannot do so. That is, by explicating its +own primitive idea, and bringing it more and clearly into the +reflective consciousness, and by learning more and more of the +universe of created existences, it may go on indefinitely, +apprehending God by the reflected light of similitudes, "_per +speculum, in aenigmate;_" but it must progress always in the same +line: it has no tendency toward an immediate vision of God as he is +intelligible in his own essence and by uncreated light. Therefore, it +has only a negative and not a positive apprehension of the +supernatural. God dwells in a light inaccessible to created {584} +intelligence, as such. There is an infinite abyss between him and all +finite reason, which cannot be crossed by any movement of reason, +however accelerated or prolonged. Therefore, although there is no +science or philosophy possible which does not proceed from the +affirmation of the supernatural, that is, of the infinite first and +final cause of nature, yet it is not properly called supernatural +science so long as it is confined to the limits of that knowledge of +causes above nature which is gained only through nature. Its domain is +restricted to that intelligibility which God has given to second +causes and created existences, and which only reflects himself +indirectly. Therefore, theologians usually call it natural knowledge, +and in its highest form natural theology, as being limited within the +bounds above described. They call that the natural order in which the +mind is limited to the explication of that capacity of apprehending +God, or of that intuitive idea of God, which constitutes it rational, +and is therefore limited to a relation to God corresponding to the +mode of apprehending him. The term supernatural is restricted to an +order in which God reveals to the human mind the possibility of +apprehending him by the uncreated light in which he is intelligible to +himself, and coming into a relation to him corresponding therewith; +giving at the same time an elevation to the power of intelligence and +volition which enables it to realize that possibility. This elevation +includes the disclosure of truths not discoverable otherwise, as well +as the faculty of apprehending them in such a vivid manner that they +can have an efficacious action on the will, and give it a supernatural +direction. + +In this sense, rationalists have no conception of the supernatural. +None have it, except Catholics, or those who have retained it from +Catholic tradition. When we ascribe to rationalists a recognition of +the supernatural, we merely intend to say that they recognize in part +that immediate interference of God to instruct mankind and lead it to +its destiny which is really and ultimately, although not in their +apprehension, directed to the elevation of man to a sphere above that +which is naturally possible. Therefore they cannot object to +revelation on the ground of its being an interference with the course +of nature or not in harmony with it, and cannot make an _à priori_ +principle by virtue of which they can prejudge and condemn the +contents of revelation. But we do not mean to say that they possess +the conception of that which constitutes the supernaturalness of the +revelation, in the scientific sense of the term as used by Catholic +theologians. Even orthodox Protestants possess it very confusedly. And +here lies the source of most of the misconceptions of several abstruse +Catholic dogmas. + +It is in the restricted sense that we shall use the term supernatural +hereafter, unless we make it plain that we use it in the general +signification. + +We are now prepared to state in a few words the relation of the +conception of God which is intelligible to reason, to the revealed +truths concerning his interior relations which are received by faith +on the authority of his divine veracity. How does the mind pass +through the knowledge of God to belief in God; through "_Cognosco +Deum_" to "_Credo in Deum_"? [Footnote 127] + + [Footnote 127: "I know God." "I believe in God."] + +We have already said that "_Cognosco_" is included in "_Credo_." The +creed begins by setting before the mind that which is self-evident and +demonstrable concerning God, in which is included his veracity. It +then discloses certain truths concerning God which are not +self-evident or demonstrable from their own intrinsic reason, but +which are proposed as credible, on the authority of God. The word +"_Credo_" expresses this. "I believe in God," means not merely, "I +affirm the being of God," but also, "I believe certain truths +regarding God (whose being is made known to me by the light of reason) +on the authority of his Word." {585} These truths must have in them a +certain obscurity impervious to the intellectual vision; otherwise, +they would take their place among evident and known truths, and would +no longer be believed on the simple motive of the veracity of God +revealing them. That is, they are mysteries, intelligible so far as to +enable the mind to apprehend what are the propositions to which it is +required to assent, but super-intelligible as to their intrinsic +reason and ground in the necessary and eternal truth, or the being of +God. + +In the Creed these mysteries, foreshadowed by the word "Credo," and by +the word "Deum," considered in its relation to "Credo," which +indicates a revelation of mysterious truths concerning the Divine +Being to follow in order after the affirmation of the being and unity +of God; begin to be formally expressed by the word "Patrem." In this +word there is implicitly contained the interior, personal relation of +the Father to the Son and Holy Ghost in the blessed Trinity, and his +exterior relation to man as the author of the supernatural order of +grace, or the order in which man is affiliated to him in the Son, +through the operation of the Holy Spirit. These relations of the three +persons of the blessed Trinity to each other, and to man, include the +entire substance of that which is strictly and properly the +supernatural revelation of the Creed, and the direct object of faith. +Before proceeding, however, to the consideration of the mysteries of +faith in their order, it is necessary to inquire more closely into the +process by which the intellect is brought to face its supernatural +object, and made capable of eliciting an act of faith. + +The chief difficulty in the case is to find the connection between the +last act of reason and the first act of faith, the medium of transit +from the natural to the supernatural. The Catholic doctrine teaches +that the act of faith is above the natural power of the human mind. It +is strictly supernatural, and possible only by the aid of supernatural +grace. Yet it is a rational act, for the virtue of faith is seated in +the intellect as its subject, according to the teaching of St. Thomas. +It is justifiable and explicable on rational grounds, and even +required by right reason. The truths of revelation are not only +objectively certain, but the intellect has a subjective certitude of +them which is absolute, and excludes all suspicion or fear of the +contrary. Now, then, unless we adopt the hypothesis that we have lost +our natural capacity for discerning divine truth, by the fall, and are +merely restored by divine grace to the natural use of reason, there +are several very perplexing questions on this point which press for an +answer. Rejecting this hypothesis of the total corruption of reason, +which will hereafter be proved to be false and absurd, how can faith +give the mind absolute certitude of the truth of its object, when that +truth is neither self-evident nor demonstrable to reason from its own +self-evident principles? Given, that the intellect has this certitude, +how is it that we cannot attain to it by the natural operation of +reason? Once more, what is the evidence of the fact of revelation to +ordinary minds? Is it a demonstration founded on the arguments for +credibility? If so, how are they capable of comprehending them, and +what are they to do before they have gone through with the process of +examination? If not, how have they a rational and certain ground for +the judgment that God has really revealed the truths of Christianity? +Suppose now the fact of revelation established, and that the mind +apprehends that God requires its assent to certain truths on the +virtue of his own veracity. The veracity of God being apprehended as +one logical premiss, and the revelation of certain truths as another, +can reason draw the certain conclusion that the truth of these +propositions is necessarily contained in the veracity of God or not? +If it can, why is not the mind capable of giving them the firm, +unwavering {586} assent of faith by its own natural power, without +the aid of grace? If not, how is it that the assent of the intellect +to the truth of revealed propositions does not always necessarily +contain in it a metaphysical doubt or a judgment that the contrary is +more or less probable, or at least possible? If it is said that the +will, inclined by the grace of God, determines to adhere positively to +the proposed revelation as true, what is meant by this? Does the will +merely determine to act practically as if these proposed truths were +evident, in spite of the lesser probability of the contrary? Then the +assent of the intellect is merely a judgment that revelation is +probably true, and that it is safest to follow it, which does not +satisfy the demand of faith. For faith excludes all fear or suspicion +that the articles of faith may possibly be false. Does the will force +the intellect to judge that those propositions are certain which it +apprehends only as probable? How is this possible? The will is a blind +faculty, which is directed by the intellect, "Nil volitum nisi prius +cognitum." [Footnote 128] There is no act of will without a previous +act of knowledge. The will can not lawfully determine the intellect to +give any stronger assent to a proposition than the evidence warrants. +[Footnote 129] In a word, it is difficult to show how the intellect +has an absolute certitude of the object of faith, without representing +the object of faith as coincident with the object of knowledge, or the +intuitive idea of reason, and thus naturally apprehensible. It is also +difficult to show that faith is not coincident with knowledge, and +thus to bring out the conception of its supernaturalness, without +destroying the connection between faith and reason, subverting its +rational basis, and representing the grace of faith as either +restoring a destroyed faculty or adding a new one to the soul, whose +object is completely invisible and unintelligible to the human +understanding before it is elevated to the supernatural state. The +difficulty lies, however, merely in a defective statement, or a +defective apprehension of the statement of the Catholic doctrine, and +not in the doctrine itself. In order to make this plain, it will be +necessary to make one or two preliminary remarks concerning certitude +and probability. + + [Footnote 128: Nothing is willed unless previously known.] + + [Footnote 129: This is the statement of an objection, not a + proposition affirmed by the author.] + +There is first, a metaphysical certitude excluding all possibility to +the contrary. Such is the certitude of mathematical truths. Such also +is the certitude of self-evident and demonstrable truths of every +kind. The sphere of this kind of certitude is diminished or extended +accordingly as the mind has before it a greater or lesser number of +truths of this order. Some of these truths present themselves to every +mind so immediately and irresistibly that it cannot help regarding +them just as they are, and thus seeing their truth. For instance, that +two and two make four. Others require the mind to be in a certain +state of aptitude for seeing them as they are, and to make an effort +to bring them before it. There are some truths self-evident or +demonstrably certain to some minds which are not so to others; yet +these truths have all an intrinsic, metaphysical certitude which +reason as such is capable of apprehending, and the failure of reason +to apprehend them is due in individual cases merely to the defective +operation of reason in the particular subject. The operation of reason +can never be altogether deficient while it acts at all, for it acts +only while contemplating its object or primitive idea. But its +operation can be partially defective, inasmuch as the primitive idea +or objective truth may be imperfectly brought into the reflective +consciousness. And thus the intellect in individuals may fail to +apprehend truths which can be demonstrated with metaphysical +certitude, and which the intellect infallibly judges to be absolutely +certain in {587} those individuals who are capable of making a right +judgment. In this operation of apprehending metaphysical truths there +is no criterion taken from experience, or from the concurrent assent +of all men, but the truth shines with its own intrinsic light, and +reason judges by its inherent infallibility. + +Next to metaphysical certitude comes moral demonstration, resulting +from an accumulation of probabilities so great that no probability +which can prudently be allowed any weight is left to the other side, +but merely a metaphysical possibility. For instance, the Copernican +theory. + +Then comes moral certainty in a wider sense; where there is probable +evidence on one side without any prudent reason to the contrary, but +not such a complete knowledge of all the facts as to warrant the +positive judgment that there is really no probability on the other +side. This kind of certainty warrants a prudent, positive judgment, +and furnishes a safe practical motive for action; but it varies +indefinitely according as the data on which the judgment is based are +more or less complete, and the importance of the case is greater or +less. + +Then come the grades of probability, where there are reasons balancing +each other on both sides, which the mind must weigh and estimate. + +To apply these principles to the question in hand. + +First, we affirm that the being and attributes of God are apprehended +with a metaphysical certitude. Second, that the motives of credibility +proving the Christian revelation are apprehended, when that Revelation +is sufficiently proposed, with a varying degree of probability, +according to varying circumstances in which the mind may be placed, +but capable of being increased to the highest kind of moral +demonstration. Third, that the logical conclusion which reason can +draw from these two premises, although hypothetically necessary and a +perfect demonstration--that is, a necessary deduction from the +veracity of God, on the supposition that he has really made the +revelation--is really not above the order of probability, on account +of the second premiss. It is not above the order of probability, +although, as we have already argued, it is capable of being brought to +a moral demonstration by such an accumulation of proofs within that +order, that reason is bound to judge that the opposite is altogether +destitute of probability. + +From this it appears, both how far reason with its own principles can +go in denying, and how far it can go in assenting to revealed truth. +We see, first, how it is, that the truth of revelation does not compel +the assent of all minds by an overwhelming and irresistible evidence. +The first premiss, which affirms the being of God, although undeniable +and indubitable in its ultimate idea, may be in its distinct +conception, so far denied or doubted by those whose reason is +perverted by their own fault, or their misfortune, as to destroy all +basis for a revelation. The second premiss, much more, may be +partially or completely swept away, by plausible explanations of its +component probabilities in detail. And thus, revelation may be denied. +The influence of the will on the judgment which is made by the mind on +the revealed truth is explicable in this relation, and must be taken +into the account. It is certain that the moral dispositions by which +voluntary acts are biased, bias also the judgment. The +self-determining power of the will which decides positively which of +its different inclinations to follow, controls the judgment as well as +the volition. This is an indirect control, which is exerted, not by +imperiously commanding the judgment in a capricious manner to make a +blind, irrational decision, but by turning it toward the consideration +of that side toward which the volition or choice is inclined. This +influence and control of volition over judgment increases as we +descend in the order of truth from primary and self-evident +principles, and diminishes as we {588} approach to them. In the case +of truth which is morally or metaphysically demonstrable, its control +is exerted by turning the intellect partially away from the +consideration of the truth and hindering it from giving it that +attention which is necessary, in order to its apprehension. In the +case of divine revelation, various passions, prejudices, interests, or +at least intellectual impediments to a right operation of reason, act +powerfully upon a multitude of minds in such a way, that the mirror of +the soul is too much obscured to receive the image of truth. + +But, supposing that reason and will both operate with all the +rectitude possible to them, without supernatural grace; how far can +the mind proceed in assenting to divine revelation? As far as a moral +demonstration can take it. It can assent to divine truth, and act upon +it, so far as this truth is adapted to the perfecting of the intellect +and will in the natural order. But it lacks capacity to apprehend the +supernatural verities proposed to it, as these are related to its +supernatural destiny. + +The revelation contains an unknown quantity. The will cannot be moved +toward an object which the intellect does not apprehend. Therefore, a +supernatural grace must enlighten the intellect and elevate the will, +in order that the revealed truth may come in contact with the soul. +This supernatural grace gives a certain con-naturality to the soul +with the revealed object of faith, by virtue of which it apprehends +that God speaks to it in a whisper, distinct from his whisper to +reason, and catches the meaning of what he says in this whisper. It is +this supernatural light, illuminating the probable evidence +apprehended by the natural understanding, which makes the assent in +the act of faith absolute, and gives the mind absolute certitude. It +is, however, the certitude of God revealing, and not the certitude of +science concerning the intrinsic reason of that which he reveals. This +remains always inevident and obscure in itself, and the decisive +motive of assent is always the veracity of God. It is not, however, +altogether inevident and obscure, for if it were, the terms in which +it is conveyed would be unintelligible. It is so far inevident, that +the intellect cannot apprehend its certainty, aside from the +declaration of God. But it is partially and obscurely evident, by its +analogy with the known truth of the rational order. It is so far +evident that it can be demonstrated from rational principles that it +does not contradict the truths of reason. Further, that no other +hypothesis can explain and account for that which is known concerning +the universe. And, finally, that so far as the analogy between the +natural and the supernatural is apprehensible, there is a positive +harmony and agreement between them. This is all that we intend to +affirm, when we speak of demonstrating Christianity from the same +principles from which scientific truths are demonstrated. + +Let us now revert once more to Jesus Christ and the pagan philosopher. +The pagan first perceives strong, probable reasons, which increase by +degrees to a moral demonstration, for believing that Christ is the Son +of God, and his doctrine the revelation of God. The supernatural grace +which Christ imparts to him, enables him to apprehend this with a +permanent and infallible certitude as a fixed principle both of +judgment and volition. He accepts as absolutely true all the mysteries +which Christ teaches him, on the faith of his divine mission and the +divine veracity. We may now suppose that Christ goes on to instruct +him in the harmony of these divine verities with all scientific +truths, so far, that he apprehends all the analogies which human +reason is capable of discerning between the two. He will then have +attained the _ultimatum_ possible for human reason elevated and +enlightened by faith, in this present state. Science and faith will be +coincident in his mind, as far as they can be. That is, faith will be +coincident {589} with science until it rises above its sphere of +vision, and will then lose itself in an indirect and obscure +apprehension of the mysteries, in the veracity of God. + +In the case of the child brought up in the Catholic Church, the +Church, which is the medium of Christ, instructs the child through its +various agents. The child's reason apprehends, through the same +probable evidence by which it learns other facts and truths, that the +truth presented to him comes through the church, and through Christ, +from God, who is immediately apprehended in his primitive idea. The +light of faith which precedes in him the development of reason, +illuminates his mind from the beginning to apprehend with infallible +certitude that divine truth which is proposed to him through the +medium of probable evidence. This faith is a fixed principle of +conscience, proceeding from an illuminated intellect, inclining him to +submit his mind unreservedly to the instruction of the Catholic Church +on the faith of the divine veracity. It rests there unwaveringly, +without ever admitting a doubt to the contrary or postponing a certain +judgment until the evidence of revelation and the proofs of the divine +commission of the church have been critically examined. It may rest +there during life, and does so, with the greater number, to a greater +or lesser degree; or, it may afterward proceed to investigate to the +utmost limits the _rationale_ of the divine revelation, not in order +to establish faith on a surer basis, but in order to apprehend more +distinctly what it believes, and to advance in theological science. + +Some one may say: "You admit that it is impossible to attain to a +perfect certitude of supernatural truth without supernatural light; +why, then, do you attempt to convince unbelievers that the Catholic +doctrine is the absolute truth by rational arguments?" To this we +reply, that we do not endeavor to lead them to faith, by mere +argument; but to the "preamble of faith." We aim at removing +difficulties and impediments which hinder those from attending to the +rational evidence of the faith; at removing its apparent +incredibility. We rely on the grace of the Holy Spirit alone to make +the effort successful, and to lead those who are worthy of grace +beyond the preamble of faith to faith itself. This grace is in every +human mind to which faith is proposed, in its initial stage; it is +increased in proportion to the sincerity with which truth is sought +for; and is given in fulness to all who do not voluntarily turn their +minds away from it. If we did not believe this, we would lay down our +pen at once. [Footnote 130] + + [Footnote 130: The doctrine taught by Cardinal de Lugo and Dr. + Newman, in regard to which some dissent was expressed in a former + number, seems to the author, on mature reflection, to be, after all, + identical with the one here maintained.] + +------ + +{590} + + +From Once A Week. + +A DAY AT ABBEVILLE. + +BY BESSIE RAYNOR PARKES. + + +Twenty years ago, we posted into Abbeville by night, and were +deposited in an old-fashioned inn, with a large walled garden. In the +morning we posted further on across country to Rouen. Since then, many +a lime has the Chemin de Fer du Nord borne us flying past the ancient +city oft visited by English kings and English men-at-arms; not, +perhaps, deigning to stop to take in water; for Abbeville, once upon +the highway of nations, now lies just, as it were, a shade to one +side; just a shade--the distance between the station and the ramparts. +Yet this is enough to cause the _maître d'hôtel_ to shake his head and +say in a melancholy accent, "_Abbeville est presque détruite._" + +On asking for the Hôtel de l'Europe, I was told that the Hôtel Tête de +Boeuf was "all the same." Which, however, was far from being the case, +as neither the building nor the master was what we had known twenty +years ago. _Query_ as to the degree of affinity required by the French +intellect to produce the degree of identity? In fact, the Hôtel de +l'Europe no longer existed. The house was possessed by a body of +religious, the sisters of St. Joseph, and their large school for young +ladies. The Tête de Boeuf had been a small château; two still +picturesque brick turrets bearing witness of its ancient state. + +In the morning I walked over almost the length and breadth of +Abbeville, surprised to find it so large and, apparently, flourishing; +and yet, in spite of tall chimneys upon the circumference, full of the +quaintest old houses in the centre. Some of them have richly carved +beams running along the edge of the overhanging stories. Such may +still be seen in a few English towns; I remember them at Booking, in +Essex. The glory of the place is its great church, or rather the nave, +for this is all that ever got completed of the original design of the +time of Louis XII., the king who married our Princess Mary, sister of +Henry VIII. The choir has been patched on, and is about half the +height of the nave. The latter is a glorious upshoot of traceried +stone, with two towers; perhaps all the more impressive from having +been thus arrested in the very act of creation. It is like a forest +tree which has only attained half its development; and one feels as if +it ought to go on growing, pushing out fresh buttresses and arches, +till its fair proportions stood complete. There is an excellent stone +staircase up one of the towers, and from the top a wide view of the +town and the fields of Picardy, even to the sharp cliff marking where +the sea-line must be. The windings of the Somme may be traced for many +miles. I was told that the tide used to swell almost up to the town, +and that several little streams, once falling into the river, were +dried up. Even now, as there are several branches, one is here and +there reminded of Bruges, by the little old-fashioned bridges, +crossing a canal in the middle of a street. A broad girdle of water +seemed to me to surround great part of the town; but I could obtain no +map and no guide-book, though I anxiously inquired at the best shop. +Only a history of Abbeville was dug out of the museum at the Hôtel de +Ville, which building had a strong but plain tower reported of the +eleventh century. {591} The Abbevillois care little apparently for +their antiquities, though they are many and curious. + +This ground, though somewhat bare and barren in appearance, has been +thickly occupied by humanity from the earliest ages of history. Keltic +barrows have been found here in abundance, and though many of them +have been destroyed in the interests of agriculture, enough remain to +delight the antiquary by their flint hatchets and arrows, their urns, +and their burnt bones. One such barrow, near Noyelles-sur-Mer, when +opened, was found to contain a large number of human heads, disposed +in a sort of cone. In 1787, one was opened at Crécy, and in it were +found two sarcophagi of burnt clay, in each of which was an entire +skeleton. Each had been buried in its clothes, and one bore on its +finger a copper ring; its dress being fastened likewise by a brooch or +hook of the same metal. Endless indeed is the list of primitive +instruments in flint, in copper, in iron, in bronze, found hereabouts; +likewise vases full of burnt bones, not only of our own race, but of +various animals--mice, water-rats, and "such small deer;" and in the +near neighborhood, of boars, oxen, and sheep. Succeeding to these wild +people and wild animals came the Romans. Before they pounced down upon +us, before they crossed over to Porta Lymanis, and drew those straight +lines of causeway over England which make the Roman Itinerary look +something like Bradshaw's railway map, (only straighter,) they settled +themselves firmly in the north of France; notably, they staid so long +near St. Valery, (at the mouth of the river which runs through +Abbeville,) that they buried there their dead in great numbers, +whereof the place of sepulchre is at this day yet to be seen. Their +own nice neat road also had they, cutting clean through the Graulic +forests. It came from Lyons to Boulogne, passing through Amiens and +Abbeville, and was in continuation of one which led from Rome into +Gaul! And wherever this people of conquerors travelled, thither they +carried their religious ceremonies and their domestic arts, so that we +find still all sorts of medals, vases of red, grey, or black clay, +little statuettes, _ex votos_, and sometimes larger groups of +sculpture, such as one in bronze representing the combat of Hercules +and Antaeus. Carthaginian medals have also been turned up here, +brought from the far shores of the Mediterranean; and those of +Claudius, Trajan, Caracalla, and Constantine. This long catalogue is +useless, save to mark the rich floods of human life which have +successively visited the banks of the Somme. + +In the first year of the fifth century the barbarians made their way +up to the Somme, fighting the Romans inch by inch. Attila burst upon +this neighborhood, and fixed his claws therein; the tide of Rome rolls +back upon the south, and new dynasties begin, and with them comes in +Christianity; not, however, without much difficulty. The faith appears +to have gradually spread from Amiens, where St. Finius preached as +early as 301; but even 179 years later, St. Germain, the Scotchman, +was martyred, and St. Honoré, the eighth bishop of Amiens, labored +daily, for thirty-six years, in conjunction with Irish missionaries, +to infuse Christianity into the minds of people equally indisposed, +whether by Frankish paganism or Roman culture, to accept the doctrines +of the Cross. Indeed, the learned historian of this part of the +country, M. Louandre, believes that even Rome itself had never been +able to destroy the old Keltic religion. He says that, as late as the +seventh century, the antique trees, woods, and fountains were still +honored by public adoration in this part of France; and St. Rignier +hung up relics to the trees to purify them, just as in Rome itself the +old pagan temples were exorcised. And after a time the old gods of all +sorts were known either as idols or demons; no particular distinctions +being drawn among them; they lie as _débris_ beneath the religious +soil of this part of Picardy, just as the bones of those who adored +them are confounded in one common dust. + +{592} + +Late in the seventh century appears St. Rignier, a great saint in +these parts. He was converted and baptized by the Irish missionaries, +and thereupon became a most austere Christian indeed; only, says his +legend, eating twice a week--Sundays and Thursdays. King Dagobert +invited the saint to a repast, which the holy man accepted, and +preached the Gospel the whole time they sat at table--a day and a +night! + +We must now take a great leap to the days of Charlemagne, because in +his days the Abbey of St. Rignier, near to Abbeville, was very famous +indeed, both as monastery and school, and contained a noble library of +256 volumes; the greater part whereof were Christian, but certain +others were pagan classics; let us, for instance, be grateful for the +Eclogues of Virgil and the Rhetoric of Cicero. Of this library but one +volume remains; I have seen it, and with astonishment. It is a copy of +the Gospels, written in letters of gold upon purple parchment. It was +given by Charlemagne to the Count-Abbot, Saint Augilbert. This one +precious fragment of the great library is in the museum of Abbeville. +The school was, indeed, an ecclesiastical Eton and Oxford. The sons of +kings, dukes, and counts came here to learn the "letters," of which +Charlemagne made such great account. + +Now the town of Abbeville first gets historic mention in the century +succeeding Charlemagne. It is called Abbatis Villa, and belonged to +this great monastery of St. Rignier; wherefore I have introduced both +the good saint and his foundation. It grew, as almost all the towns of +the middle ages did grow, from a religious root--a tap-root, striking +deep in the soil. Of course, having thus begun to grow, its history +has made interesting chapters a great deal too long to be copied or +even noted here; it will not be amiss, however, to look for its points +of occasional contact with England. Firstly, then, it was from St. +Valery, the seaport of the Somme, that William the Conqueror set out +for England. Then, in 1259, our Henry III. met St. Louis at Abbeville, +and Henry did homage for his French possessions. Then, in 1272, our +great King Edward I. married Eleanor, heiress of Ponthieu--she who +sucked the poison from her husband's wound; and the burgesses of +Abbeville, misliking the transfer, quarreled violently with the king's +bailiff, and killed some of the underlings. Eleanor's son, Edward II., +married Isabel, the + + "She-wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs. + That tearest the bowels of thy mangled mate." + +This unamiable specimen of her sex lived at Abbeville in 1312; but +during her reign and residence, and that of her son Edward III., the +inhabitants of Abbeville ceased not to kick indignantly. The King of +France, her brother, struck into the contest "_pour comforter la main +de Madame d'Angleterre_." The legal documents arising from these +quarrels partially remain to us. So they go on, quarreling and +sometimes fighting, until the great day of Crécy, when Edward III., +the late king's nephew, tried to get the throne. The oft-told tale we +need not tell again. In 1393, France being in worse extremities, we +find Charles VI. at Abbeville, and Froissart there at the same time. +Perhaps, in respect of battles and quarrels, those few notices are +sufficient; I only wished to indicate that Abbeville was on the +borderland between the English and the French, and came in for an +ample share of fighting. Two royal ceremonials enlivened it in the +course of centuries, whereof particular mention is made in the +history. Louis XII. here met and married Mary of England, in 1514: +"_La Reine Blanche_," as she was afterward called, from her white +widow's weeds. In the Hôtel de Cluny at Paris is still shown the +apartments she occupied. Louis was old, and Mary young, when they +married; but the French historian recounts her exceeding complaisance +and politeness to the king, and his great delight therein. + +{593} + +In 1657, young Louis XIV. came here with his mother, and lodged at the +Hôtel d'Oignon. Monsieur D'Oignon, the noble owner, had everything in +such beautiful and ceremonious order for their reception, that he +became a proverb at Abbeville--"As complete and well arranged as M. +d'Oignon." A sort of _rich_ Richard. + +The antiquarian who goes to Abbeville and dips into the history (by M. +Louandre) at the Museum, will find plenty of interesting matter about +the manners and customs of the Abbevillois, rendered all the more +striking by so many of the old houses being yet just where they were, +and as they were. But few impressions of the book seem to have been +printed off, for it is no longer sold, though the obliging librarian +did say he knew where a few copies remained at a high price. This for +the benefit of any long-pursed antiquary, curious in local histories. +It is such a book as can only be written by a devoted son of the soil +digging away on the spot. + +In the Revolution, Abbeville fortunately escaped any great horrors; +but the trials of the middle ages afford plenty; especially one of a +certain student, condemned for sacrilege. Now, it is a peaceful, +well-governed town, busy in making iron pots and cans, and other +wrought articles from raw materials brought by the railway. It proves +to be only in respect of the hotel interest that _Abbeville est +presque détruite_. + + +------ + + +Translated from the French + +"GOD BLESS YOU!" + +BY JEROME DUMOULIN. + + +"Thank you, master Jerome!" my reader replies; "yes, to be sure, may +God bless me! But I have not sneezed, that I know of, for a quarter of +an hour, at least; and _apropos de quoi_ do you say that? or rather, +why and wherefore do they always say so to people who sneeze? I +suspect that you want to talk about it, and, in fact, I should not be +displeased to hear you discuss for a little while this odd custom; so +begin, master Jerome." + +Very well, dear reader, such is my idea, and I think you will not find +uninteresting the little history of it which I intend to give; and I +assure you beforehand, that if I fail to convince you, you must be +very difficult. + +Settle it first in your mind, that in whatever you may have heard +heretofore upon this subject, there was not one word of truth. Among +the most probable histories of this kind is that of a pestilence, +which in the time of Pope Saint Gregory, ravaged Italy, the peculiar +characteristic of which was to cause the sick person to die suddenly +by sneezing. When the patient sneezed, which was for him, the passage +from life to death, the assistants gave him this fraternal +benediction, saying to him, "God bless you!" which was the equivalent +or translation of _Requiescat in pace_. This account, I repeat, would +be much more acceptable, if it were not contradicted by a positive +fact, namely, that the use of the expression is many centuries +anterior to Pope Saint Gregory; anterior even to the Christian era, +and borrowed, of course, from the pagans, as I am about to prove from +authentic testimony. + +{594} + +But in the first place, let us remark that in the highest antiquity +sneezing was a circumstance in regard to which they drew auguries, +especially if a person sneezed many times consecutively. Xenophon +relates that one of his corporals having sneezed, he drew from it a +good augury by a process of reasoning which I did not quite +understand, but which his troops, apparently, found sufficiently +conclusive. Going back again some eight centuries, we find in the +"Odyssey" an adventure of the same kind, but more droll. In the +eighteenth book of this poem, the divine Homer relates that one day +Telemachus began to sneeze in such a manner as to shake the whole +house. That put madam Penelope in good humor, who calling her faithful +Eumacus the swineherd: "Do you hear, old fellow," she said; "he is +well cared for! and what an augury of happiness the gods have given +us. Jupiter has spoken by the nose of my dear Telemachus, and he +announces to us that we are about to be freed from these scamps of +gallants who bore me with their pursuits, and who beside put to sack +our poor civil list; for every hour our cattle, goats, and little +pigs, which you love like so many children, are sacrificed to the +voracity of these rascals. Now, my good fellow, I have an idea: go you +to the door of the palace, where for some days I have seen that beggar +that you know. Take him from me these pantaloons and this shirt, which +I am sure he needs very much; and promise him beside a magnificent +frock-coat, which he will have only if he shall answer in a +satisfactory manner the questions which I shall propose." In fact the +good queen suspected that the ragged peasant might be the wise Ulysses +in disguise. But let us proceed with our subject. + +In the second chapter of his twenty-eighth book, the elder Pliny +expresses himself thus: _Cur sternumentis salutamus? Quod etiam +Tiberium Caesarem in vehiculo exegisse tradunt, et aliqui nomine +quoque consalutare religiosius putant._ Thus the custom was already +established among the Romans of wishing health and good fortune to +persons who sneezed, and the last word but one of the phrase indicates +that this wish had a religious character. In many authors health is +wished to persons who sneeze; _salvere jubentur_, is the consecrated +expression, which corresponds to "God guard you;" and according to the +passage cited above, it appears that when Tiberius, driving in his +chariot, sneezed, then, and only then, the populace were obliged to +cry. _Long live the emperor!_ a formula which included the impetration +of life and health by the protection of the gods. This custom existed +then at the time of Pliny, and going back still further among the +Romans, let us see what we find. Here then is a story extracted from +the "Veterum Auctorum Fragmenta,"' and inserted by Father Strada in +his "Prolusiones Academicae." I give a free translation, it is true, +but I will guarantee the perfect exactitude of the substance, and of +the formulas. + +One day when Cicero was present at a performance at the Roman opera, +the illustrious orator began to sneeze loudly. Immediately all rose, +senators and plebeians, and each one taking off his hat, they cried to +him from all parts of the house: "God bless you! _Omnes +assurrexere--salvere jubentes_." Upon which three young men, named +severally Fannius, Fabalus, and Lemniscus, leaning upon their elbows +in one of the boxes, began the interchange of a succession of absurd +remarks, and finally started the question of the origin of this +custom. Each gave his own opinion, and the three agreed at once that +the usage dated back as far as Prometheus. It was then, at Rome, a +common tradition of very ancient date, as we see, according to some, +even as ancient as the epoch of the tower of Babel. {595} But if they +were agreed as to the groundwork, they embellished their canvas in +very different fashions. The stories related by Fannius, and by +Fabalus I will spare you for the sake of brevity and for other +reasons; contenting myself only with the version of Lemniscus, which +will suffice for our object. + +Following then, this respectable authority: The son of Japetus +moulded, as every one knows, with pipe-clay, a statue which he +proposed to animate with celestial fire, and his work finished, he put +it into a stove in order that it should dry sufficiently; but the heat +was very great, and acted so well, or so ill, that independently of +other damages, the nose of the work became cracked and shrunken in a +manner very unfortunate for a nose which had the slightest +self-consciousness. When the artist returned to the stove and saw this +stunted nose, he began to swear like a pagan as he was; but perceiving +that the flat-nose gained nothing thereby, he took the wiser part of +re-manipulating the organ, adding thereto fresh clay, and in order to +facilitate the work of restoration, he conceived the idea of inserting +a match in one of the nostrils of his manikin. But the mucous +membrane, already provided with sensibility and life, was irritated at +the contact of the sulphuric acid, and the consequence was such a +tremendous sneezing that all the teeth, not yet quite solid in the +jaw, sprang out into the face of the operator. Dismayed by this deluge +of meteors, and expecting to see his little man get out of order from +top to bottom "Ah!" cried Prometheus, "may Jupiter protect +you!"--_Tibi Jupiter adsit!_ "And from this you see two things," +continued Lemniscus: "First, why they always say to people who sneeze, +'May Jupiter assist you!' and also, why this morning, in a similar +case, I said nothing at all to this old mummy Crispinus, since from +time immemorial his last tooth has taken flight. He might sneeze like +an old cat without the slightest danger to his jaw." + +Here terminates the colloquy of our young men. I am far from intending +to guarantee the contents, either as to the conduct and exploits of +Prometheus, or the misfortunes of his little man, since I have not +under my eye the authentic records; but what follows incontestably +from this recital, is, that at the time of Cicero, the usage of which +we speak was already very ancient, since they traced it back to one of +the most ancient heroes of fable. But moreover, and this it is which +renders this passage particularly precious, we find in it the precise +form of salutation which other passages contain in the generic +phrase--_salvere jubent_. This formula consists in these three words: +_Tibi Jupiter adsit!_ I do not intend to say that this wish and this +deprecatory formula were only used in the special case of which we +speak. Undoubtedly, in a thousand other circumstances, persons +addressed each other as a mark of good will. _Deus tibi faveat! Dii +adsint! Tibi adsit Jupiter!_ etc, etc.; but in the special case of +sneezing, the phrase was obligatory among persons of gentle breeding. + +Now, reader, attention! and will you enter into a Roman school, in the +time of Camillus or Coriolanus? There we shall find in the midst of +about fifty pupils, an honest preceptor bearing the name of Stolo, or +Volumnus, or Pomponius, perhaps. Very well, let it be Pomponius. Now +on a certain day the good man began to sneeze, but magisterially, and +in double time, following the form still used among the moderns, that +is to say, he emitted this nasal interjection----_ad----sit_! which +you have observed and practised a thousand times. Upon which one of +the young rogues, remarking the homophony of the thing with one of the +three words of the deprecatory formula which he had heard in +numberless cases, added, in a mocking tone--_tibi Jupiter!_and +instantly all the crowd repeated in chorus after him, _ad--sit--tibi +Jupiter_. + +Here you have, dear reader, the solution of the enigma. But let us +observe the sequel. What did master {596} Pomponius under the fire of +this gay frolic? Somewhat astonished at first, he immediately +recovered himself, and took the thing in good part; and being +something of a wag himself, that style of benediction suited his +humor. I see him now running his glance along the restless troops, +raising the right hand, then the fore-finger, which he carries to his +nose, then calming their terrors by these soothing words: + + Fear not, my little friends: + You often have committed + Offenses much more grave. + Ah well! how often and whenever + I shall happen to make--_ad---sit!_ + Cry you all: _Jupiter adsit!_ + +You will not suppose that the little boys failed in this duty. From +the school of Pomponius it passed through all the line of the +university establishments, and improving upon it, the children saluted +with--_Jupiter ad----sit_!----first the heads of their classes, then +fathers, mothers, and all respectable persons. The elders failed not +to imitate the little ones: it permeated the whole of society. Then +came Christianity, which changed _Jupiter_ into _God_; and the +formula, _Jupiter protect you!_ was naturally transformed into _God +bless you!_ + +Thus it is verified that this formula is of Roman origin; and if +anything is simple, natural, and manifest, it is its derivation from +the physiological phenomena with which it is connected, and of which +it represents phonetically the energetic expression. If any of my +readers can find a better explanation of it, I beg him to address me +his memorandum by telegraph. + +I owe you now the quotation from the "Anthology," which I promised +above. Among the Greek epigrams of all epochs, of which this +collection is composed, there is one which relates precisely to the +custom of which we speak. The _Zeu Soson_ of this epigram is the +translation of the _Jupiter adsit_ of the Latins. I say the +translation and not the original. For this is not one of those +fragments which may be of an epoch anterior to that in which we have +placed, and in which we have a right to place master Pomponius and his +little adventure. In extending their empire over the countries of the +Greek tongue, the Romans imported there a great number of their +customs and social habits: the _Jupiter adsit_ must have been of this +number, and therefore we find it under Greek pens. I dare not venture +here upon the Greek text of the "Anthology," which would perhaps +frighten our fair readers, and I give only the Latin translation in +two couplets: + + Dic cur Sulpicius nequeat sibi mungere nasum? + Causa est quod naso sit minor ipsa manus. + Cur sibi sternutans, non clamat, Jupiter adsit? + Non nasum audit qui distat ab aure nimis. + +Very well! I yet have scruples in regard to my Latin, which may not be +understood by some of the ladies and especially by the bachelors of +the bifurcation. Therefore, to put it into good French verse, I have +had recourse to the politeness of our friend Pomponius, and the +excellent man has willingly given the following translation of the +second distich, which alone relates to the circumstance: + + On demande pourquoi notre voisin Sulpice + Eternue, et jamais ne dit: Dien _me_ bénisse! + Serait-ce, par hasard, qu'll n'entend pas tres-blen? + Du tout, l'oreille est bonne et fonctionne à merveille; + Mais son grand nez s'en va--si loin de son oreille, + Que quand il fait--_ad--sit!_ celle-ce n'entend rien. + + You demand why our neighbor Sulpice + Sneezes and never says, God bless _me_! + It is, perhaps, because he does not hear well: + Not at all, his ear is good, and acts to a marvel; + But his great nose goes away--so far from his ear, + That when he makes--_ad--sit!_ this last hears nothing. + +This epigram, undoubtedly, is not much more than two thousand years +old; and why may it not have been written by Pomponius the ancient? +For the Pomponius of our day, to him also, "how often and whenever," +he shall sneeze--and without that even, God bless him! + +------ + +{597}{598} + + +[ORIGINAL.] + +THEREIN. + +A SONG. + + + I know a valley fair and green, + Wherein, wherein, + A dear and winding brook is seen, + Therein; + The village street stands in its pride + With a row of elms on either side, + Therein; + They shade the village green. + + In the village street there is an inn. + Wherein, wherein, + The landlord sits in bottle-green, + Therein. + His face is like a glowing coal, + And his paunch is like a swelling bowl; + Therein + Is a store of good ale, therein. + + The inn has a cosy fireside. + Wherein, wherein, + Two huge andirons stand astride, + Therein. + When the air is raw of a winter's night, + The fire on the hearth shines bright + Therein. + 'Tis sweet to be therein. + + The landlord sits in his old arm-chair + Therein, therein; + And the blaze shines through his yellow hair + Therein. + There cometh lawyer Bickerstith, + And the village doctor, and the smith. + Therein + Full many a tale they spin. + + They talk of fiery Sheridan's raid + Therein, therein; + And hapless Baker's ambuscade + Therein; + The grip with which Grant throttled Lee, + And Sherman's famous march to the sea. + Therein + Great fights are fought over therein. + + The landlord has a daughter fair + Therein, therein. + In ringlets falls her glossy hair + Therein. + When they speak in her ear she tosses her head; + When they look in her eye she hangs the lid, + Therein. + She does not care a pin. + + I know the maiden's heart full well. + Therein, therein, + Pure thoughts and holy wishes dwell + Therein. + I see her at church on bended knee; + And well I know she prays for me + Therein. + Sure, that can be no sin. + + Our parish church has a holy priest, + Therein, therein. + When he sings the mass, he faces the east. + Therein. + On Sunday next he will face the west, + When my Nannie and I go up abreast, + Therein, + And carry our wedding-ring. + + And when we die, as die we must; + Therein, therein, + The priest will pray o'er the breathless dust, + Therein; + And our graves will be planted side by side. + But the hearts that loved shall not abide + Therein, + But love in Heaven again. + +C.W. + +------ + +{599} + + +From The Lamp. + +UNCONVICTED; OR, OLD THORNELEY'S HEIRS. + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE VERDICT AT THE INQUEST + +From the time that suspicions as to the manner of Gilbert Thorneley's +death had been communicated to Scotland Yard, the house in Wimpole +street was taken possession of by the police, and all egress or +ingress not subject to the knowledge and approval of the officer in +charge was prohibited. Merrivale had been allowed on the previous day +to see the body of poor old Thorneley, but with much difficulty, as +the police had strict orders not to allow any strangers access to the +chamber of death. He told me this on our way to the inquest. + +"By the by," he said, "did you know that Wilmot is acting as sole +executor of his uncle, and has taken upon himself the responsibility +of ordering everything about the funeral? I asked Atherton about it +yesterday evening, and he says Wilmot came to him and asked what was +to be done, as Smith and Walker had said that he and Atherton, as only +relatives of the deceased, were the proper persons to open the will, +and see who were left his executors. Atherton, with his usual +thoughtlessness for his own interests, bade him act as he considered +right in everything, and was too much overwhelmed with his own sorrow +to think of anything else. Wilmot then went to Smith's and opened the +will, which was deposited there, and finds he is left sole executor; +and, mind you, I fancy he's sole heir likewise, for he's as coxy as +ever he can be. Mark my words, Kavanagh, there'll be a hitch about +that will as sure as I'm alive." + +I felt that Merrivale spoke with a purpose; but I answered him coolly: +"I think so too; and Wilmot will find himself in the wrong box." + +"If I thought it was any use," continued he, "I would ask you once +more to confide to me the nature of the business which took you to +Thorneley's on Tuesday evening." + +"It will transpire in due time, Merrivale. I pass you my word it is +utterly useless knowledge now; nor does it in any way affect Hugh +Atherton's present position. God knows that nothing should keep me +silent if I thought that silence would injure in the smallest degree +one so dear to me--Will he be present to day?" I asked in a little +while. + +"Yes; he seemed very anxious to watch the proceedings; and on the +whole I thought it better he should. I never saw such a man," said +Merrivale, with a burst of enthusiasm very unlike his usual dry, cold +manner; "he thinks of every one but himself. He is principally anxious +to be there that he may detect any flaw in the evidence, or find any +clue that may lead to the discovery of the real murderer of his uncle, +apparently without any thought of saving himself, as if that were a +secondary consideration. He seems to think more of the old man's death +and take it to heart than of anything which has happened to himself; +except when he speaks of Miss Leslie, and then he breaks down +entirely. I have prepared him for having to hear your evidence, and I +likewise mentioned that his uncle had sent for you the night of his +death; and that you considered yourself bound in honor not to mention +yet what transpired at the interview, but you had assured me it would +throw no light upon our present darkness." + +{600} + +"Darkness, indeed! O my poor Hugh!" + +"He expressed great surprise, and said; 'Well, this will be the first +and only secret affecting either of us which John has ever kept from +me. Wilmot hinted that some one had been at work who was not friendly +to me; but I told him I didn't believe I had an enemy: and I don't and +won't believe it now.' Then I asked him if he wouldn't like to see +you, and I think in his heart he would; but he seemed to hesitate, and +at last said: 'No, it is best not, best for us both--at least until +after this,'--meaning the inquest--'is over.'" + +The first secret! No, not the first, Hugh, not the first; but the +other could never have divided us, could never have raised one shadow +between us, I had buried it deep down in its lonely grave, and laid +its ghost by the might of my strong love for you, my friend and +brother! + +The house in Wimpole street looked gloomy enough, with its close-shut +blinds and the two policemen keeping guard on either side the door, +suggestive of death--of murder! There was a small crowd collected +round; not such a crowd as had assembled before the police-station, +but something like. Street-children, errand-boys, stray costermongers +with their barrows, passing tradesmen with their carts or baskets, and +women--slatterns from neighboring alleys and back-streets, Irish +women from the Marylebone courts and slums; and each arrival caused +fresh agitation and excitement amidst that crowd of upturned eager +faces gathered there, _waiting for the verdict_. + +"That's him," cried a voice as our cab drove up to the door--"that's +Corrinder Javies!"' "No, it an't, bless yer innercence! the corrinder +wears a scarlet gownd and a gold-laced 'at." "Tell ye he don't; he +wears a black un, and ers got it in his bag." "Yah!--the lawyer, the +nevy's lawyer!" followed by a yell of imprecations. The nearest +_gamin_ on the door-step had heard Merrivale give his name to the +policemen and demand admission, and had handed it down to his fellows. +So, with the sounds of the brutal mob ringing in our ears, we passed +the threshold of the murdered man's house. A cold shudder seized me as +I stood in the hall, and I seemed to feel as if the spirit of the dead +were hovering about in disquiet, and unable to rest. A superintendent +of the police received us in the hall, and we asked him if we could go +up to see the body. After some demur he went up-stairs with us, and +unlocked the chamber of death. There in his shell lay all that +remained of Gilbert Thorneley, he whose name and fame had been +world-wide. Fame, for what? For amassing wealth; for grinding down the +poor; for toiling, slaving, wearing himself out in the busy march of +life, with no thought but for that life which perishes heaping up +riches which must be relinquished on the grave's brink; which could +bring him no comfort nor solace in the valley of the shadow; which +perchance, in the inscrutable designs of providence, had been used as +an instrument of retribution against him. I looked at his worn +face--seamed with the lines of care, furrowed with the struggles that +had brought so little reward--and remembered that last evening when I +had seen and spoken with him--of the secret he had confided to me, of +what he had so darkly hinted at; and I fancied I could read in his +unplacid face that death had visited him in all its intensity of +bitterness, that the bodily suffering had been nothing compared to the +ocean of remorse which had swept over his soul. He rested from his +weary labors, and the fruits of them had not followed him. God alone +knew the complete history of his life; God only could supply what had +been wanting from the treasures of his mercy; God only could tell +whether that last flood of remorseful anguish had been the sorrow that +could be accepted for the sake of One who had died for him. + +{601} + +Whilst we yet stood gazing on the corpse, word was brought us that the +coroner had arrived, and was going to open proceedings. The +superintendent once more turned the key upon the dead; and we +descended to the first-floor. + +"I must divide you, gentlemen, now," said he. "You, sir," to +Merrivale, "will please to come with me to the inquest-room; and you, +Mr. Kavanagh, must wait in this back drawing-room until we send for +you. I thought you'd prefer being alone, to going along with the other +witnesses." + +"Yes," I said; "I should much prefer it." + +I avail myself of the newspaper-reports, together with Mr. Merrivale's +notes, for an account of the inquest; and I have also used his +observations made on the personal appearance, manner, etc, of the +witnesses and others who took part in it. For myself, I remained in +that dark dingy back-room until my turn came to give evidence. + +I heard the dull tramp of the jury-men as they went up-stairs and +entered the room overhead to view the body, and their hushed murmurs +as they came down. I heard the hum of voices in the front +drawing-room, where the witnesses were assembled, and the distinct +orders issued at intervals by the police. I remember standing at the +window looking into the dismal back-garden, noting mechanically the +various small sights in the back-gardens opposite. I remember staring +for a quarter of an hour at two cats fighting on the wall--a black and +a tabby; and listening to their dismal squalls. If they had been two +tigers tearing each other to pieces on that back garden-wall in the +midst of this eminently civilized city, I don't think it would have +made more impression on my brain than did those two specimens of the +feline race. And last, I remember walking, as in a dream, into the +dining-room, where sat the coroner at the head of the long table, and +ranged on either side of him the twelve jury-men. I remember seeing a +man whom I recognized as one of the deceased's solicitors, Mr. Walker, +occupying a chair at a small side-table with his clerk, and on the +opposite side of the room at another table sat Merrivale: while just +behind him, guarded--ay, _guarded_--by a policeman, sat Hugh Atherton; +and that as I came and took a chair placed for me at the other end of +the long table, he raised his eyes and looked full upon me, and that I +knew then the deadly influence which had been at work--for it was no +longer the friendly, trustful look of old; I knew--yes, I knew that +our warm friendship had died the death, that a traitor's hand had +helped to slay it. I knew, and knowing it the pain was so intense, so +like a knife entering my heart, that unconsciously I raised my hand as +though to ward off the agony that had come upon me, and a cry escaped +my lips--"Hugh, Hugh!" And then I heard the coroner addressing me in +the calm business tones of a man accustomed to do his terrible work. + +The first witness called was Mr. Evans, surgeon. He said: + +"I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and live at 138 +Wimpole street. I was summoned to Mr. Thorneley's house about seven +o'clock on the morning of the 24th; and was taken up into deceased's +room. He was in bed, lying on his back, the eyes partially open, and +the forehead and mouth contracted, as though great pain had preceded +death. He had apparently been dead some hours. There was a stiffness, +however, about the body, and an unusual rigidity of the limbs, which +excited my suspicion. The feet were likewise arched. The housekeeper +and the man-servant were in the room with the deceased at the time I +arrived. I asked what he had taken last before going to bed. The +housekeeper replied he had taken his bitter {602} ale as usual about +nine o'clock. I asked to see the bottle out of which he had taken the +ale. The housekeeper bade the man go down to his master's study and +fetch up the tray. On it were a pint-bottle of Bass's bitter ale, a +tumbler, and a plate of hard biscuit. There were a few drops at the +bottom of the glass. I smelt and tasted them; there was no peculiar +smell, but the taste was unusually bitter. It suggested to me that +strychnine might have been introduced. In the bottle about half a +tumblerful of ale was left. I took possession of it for the purpose of +analysis, with the tumbler still containing a few drops. I said to the +housekeeper: 'Information must be sent at once to the police.' This +was done. I remained until the superintendent arrived, and then +proceeded to my house with the ale-bottle and glass. I immediately +subjected the contents of both to the usual process. In the few drops +contained in the glass I discovered the appearance of strychnine. The +contents of the bottle were perfectly free." (Sensation.) "I then went +back to Mr. Thorneley's house, and reported the results to the +police-officer, who communicated with Scotland Yard, the deceased's +relative Mr. Wilmot, and his lawyers. I demanded that the family +medical man should be summoned. On his arrival we made a _post-mortem_ +examination, and removed the stomach with its contents, sealed and +despatched them to Professor T---- for analysis. We both refused a +death-certificate until the results of that analysis had been +ascertained. We agreed ourselves in suspecting death had originated +through poison, and that the poison had been strychnine. There was no +appearance of any disease in either heart, lungs, or brain, which +should cause sudden death. All three organs were in a perfectly +healthy state." + +Dr. Robinson, physician, and the usual medical attendant of deceased, +corroborated the above evidence in every particular. + +Professor T---- next deposed that he received the stomach of deceased +with its contents from Dr. Robinson and Mr. Evans. That he had +analyzed the latter, and had detected and separated strychnine in very +minute quantities; on further test, positive proof of the existence of +the poison was afforded by the colors produced. Upon introducing some +of the suspected matter into the body of a frog, death had been +produced from tetanic convulsions; thus demonstrating the existence of +strychnine. His opinion was that deceased had died from the effects of +strychnine administered in bitter ale; that the quantity administered +had been about one grain, not more--it might be less. + +Mrs. Haag, the housekeeper, was then examined. She was a woman past +fifty in appearance; her face was remarkable; so perfectly immobile +and passionless in its expression. Her hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes +were of a pale sandy color; and her drooping eyelids had that peculiar +motion in them which novelists call "shivering." She gave her answers +in clear low tones; but seldom raising her eyes to the interrogator; +they were of a cold bluish-gray, with a dangerous scintillating light +in them. Her manners and appearance were those of a woman above her +station in life; her language quite grammatical, though tinctured by a +slightly foreign idiom and accent; her deportment perfectly +self-possessed. She deposed that the deceased had appeared in the same +health as usual up to the evening previous to his death, when on +taking in his bitter ale and biscuits she observed that he looked very +much flushed and agitated, and his voice had sounded loud and angry as +she came up the stairs. He and Mr. Atherton seemed to be having a +dispute; and as she came into the room she distinctly heard Mr. +Atherton say to her master, "You will bitterly repent to-morrow what +you have said to-night." She could swear to the words, for they made +an {603} impression upon her. Had not heard Mr. Wilmot speak whilst in +the study. The ale had been brought up from the cellar by Barker, who +uncorked it down-stairs, as usual, in presence of the other servants. +Barker had accompanied her to the study-door, and opened it for her. +Always took in the ale when her master was alone, or when only the +young gentlemen (Wilmot and Atherton) were there; and waited to +receive his orders for the next day. Deceased always took bitter ale +at nine o'clock, with hard biscuits. + +Mr. Merrivale: "Did you not pour some ale out into the tumbler before +taking it up-stairs?" + +"I did not." + +"Would you swear you did not?" + +"Certainly I would swear it." + +Evidence continued: To her knowledge he had taken nothing since the +ale. The young gentlemen never took bitter ale: Mr. Atherton didn't +like it, and Mr. Wilmot could not drink it. Only one tumbler had been +brought up. The tray had remained in the study just as Mr. Thorneley +had left it, and had not been touched until the following morning, +when the doctor asked to have the bottle and glass brought to him. +Barker, the man-servant, had fetched the tray from the study. No one +had entered the study from the time Mr. Thorneley had gone to bed, +until Barker had gone there for the tray the next morning. She had +locked the door on the outside as she went up to bed, but had not gone +into the room. On the morning of the 24th she was roused by a violent +knocking at her door, and by Barker saying, in a very agitated manner, +"For God's sake get up directly, Mrs. Haag, and come to master; for I +fear he's dead!" Had hurried on a few clothes, and gone instantly to +Mr. Thorneley's room. The deceased was in bed, the eyes partially +open, and the mouth contracted, as if in an agony of pain. She had +touched his hand and found it quite cold. Then they both had stooped +to listen if he breathed; but he did not. Barker said: "I fear it's +all up with him; he must have had a fit and died in the night. What's +to be done, Mrs. Haag?" Replied, "Send at once for a doctor." The +other servants now came crowding in, and one of them ran off +immediately for the nearest surgeon. He arrived in less than half an +hour. No one had touched the body until the arrival of the doctor; +they had all feared lest they might do harm by touching it. Had lived +in the service of deceased nearly thirty years; he had been a severe +but just master to her. Was a Belgian by birth; but had lived nearly +all her life in England. Was a widow; had no children living, nor any +relations alive that she knew of. Examined as to what had transpired +before taking the ale to the study, Mrs. Haag deposed that Mr. John +Kavanagh had called on Mr. Thorneley at seven o'clock, and been +closeted with him for an hour; that a short time before he went away +the study-bell rang, which was answered by Barker, who came down into +the servants'-hall and told Thomas the coachman to go up with him to +his master's room. When they came down, they said they had been +signing their names as witnesses to some paper, which both of them had +supposed was a will; but that neither their master nor Mr. Kavanagh +had told them so. She had put on her things whilst they were upstairs, +and just after they returned she went out--Questioned as to her +errand, said she went to buy some ribbon she wanted at a shop in +Oxford street; that returning home by Vere street she saw Mr. Atherton +coming out of the chemist's shop at the corner of Oxford street, and +heard him speak to Mr. Kavanagh. Heard the words "Kavanagh," +"Atherton," and saw them shake hands. Could swear to their +identity.--Questioned by Mr. Merrivale, solicitor for the prisoner, +as to how it had come about that she had been witness to the meeting +between the two gentlemen at {604} the corner of Vere street and +Oxford street, and yet was met only in the middle of Vere street--a +very short street--at least five minutes afterwards by Mr. Kavanagh, +denied meeting Mr. Kavanagh at all in Vere street; had passed the two +gentlemen at the corner, and gone straight home. Had worn no veil that +evening.--Examination resumed by the coroner: Had not seen her master +since taking the ale into the study; had gone to the door after the +gentlemen had left, but found it locked, and received for answer, he +was busy, and did not require anything. Mr. Wilmot had left some time +previous to Mr. Atherton; she had seen neither to speak to them that +evening. This was the pith of the housekeeper's evidence. + +John Barker was the next witness called, who corroborated everything +deposed by Mrs. Haag. Asked by a juryman if it was he who signed the +paper on the evening before Mr. Thorneley's death, replied it was. Was +he aware of the nature of the document? No; but both he and Thomas the +coachman, who had likewise signed, fancied it must be a will. Had +lived nearly twenty years with his master, and often witnessed +business papers, but never asked what they were.--Questioned by Mr. +Merrivale as to whether he had noticed any conversation which passed +between Mr. Wilmot and Mr. Atherton in the hall the night before the +deceased died, replied he had caught one or two words.--Told by the +coroner to repeat them. After seeming to recollect himself for a +moment or two, said he had heard Mr. Wilmot say he must get some money +out of the governor; to which Mr. Atherton had replied in rather a low +voice; but he had heard the words, "won't live long," and "to be +worried," and "our affairs."--Asked by the prisoner if the sentence +had not been, "He is getting very old, and won't live long; he ought +not to be worried with our affairs"? Replied he could not say; it +might have been so; but what he had repeated was the whole of what he +had distinctly heard. He wished to say that he believed Mr. Atherton +to be innocent; for he was very fond of poor master, and his uncle +always seemed more partial to him than to any one else--much more +than to Mr. Wilmot. + +Thomas Spriggs the coachman, the cook, and the housemaid, were then +examined respectively, and their evidence corroborated every statement +made before; only one fresh feature presented itself. The cook +volunteered to state that she had been awoke, in the middle of the +night on which her master died, by some noise, and had fancied she +heard stealthy footsteps on the stairs.--Questioned upon this, said +that she meant the stairs leading from the third story where the +women-servants slept, to the second story.. + +Were they front or back-stairs? + +Front-stairs; the back-stairs only reached the second floor. That the +housekeeper occupied one room to herself, she and the housemaid +another, and the third was empty. She had not dared to get out of bed, +believing it was the ghost. + +What ghost? + +Oh! the house was haunted; all the servants know it and believed it, +except the housekeeper, who had laughed at her shameful, and called +her a superstitious woman. But then they had never been what she might +call comfortable nor friendly together; for Mrs. 'Aag 'eld herself +'igh and 'orty with all the company in the 'all. Couldn't say at what +hour she had been awoke; had drawed the clothes over her 'ed, and said +her prayers, and supposed she had fell asleep again, being that way +inclined by natur'. + +Mr. Merrivale: "Have you and the housekeeper ever fallen out, cook?" + +Witness: "Well, no, sir. I can't say as we ever 'ave; and I've nothing +to bring against her except as she was 'igh and close, which isn't +agreeable, sir, when the position of parties is {605} ekally +respectable, which mine is, sir, 'aving come of a greengrocer's family +as kep' their own wehicle and drove theirselves; and whose mother +could afford to be washed out, and never sat down to tea on Sunday +without s'rimps or 'winkles or something to give a relish." + +Coroner: "That is enough, cook.--Bring in the next witness." + +Mr. Lister Wilmot, who appeared much agitated, next deposed: "I went +to visit my deceased uncle on the evening of Tuesday last, and whilst +taking off my outer coat in the hall, my cousin, Mr. Atherton, +arrived. We went into my uncle's study together. Very little +conversation passed between us. I mentioned my intention of asking my +uncle for some money that evening, which I needed, having some +pressing bills to pay. My cousin replied something to the effect that +he, my uncle, would probably not live long, and we ought not to worry +him with our affairs. I think he simply said it with a view to +stopping me from making the application: he thinks I am extravagant. +He asked me how much I wanted. I said, £500. He said: 'That is a large +sum, Lister; we shall never get the governor to come down as handsome +as that.'" + +Mr. Merrivale: "Did Mr. Atherton say, 'we shall,' or 'you will'?" + +Witness (hesitating:) "I am not quite clear, but I think he said 'we +shall.' It was simply a kindly way of speaking. We found my uncle more +than usually taciturn and abstracted; but I was so hard pressed I was +obliged to brave him, and ask him for money. To my astonishment, +instead of venting his anger on me, he turned it all upon my cousin +Hugh, and accused him of leading me into extravagance." + +Coroner: "Was this so?" + +"It was not. Hugh and I are the best of friends; but our pursuits and +tastes are totally opposite. I said so to my uncle, and tried to +appease him in vain. At last he worked himself into such a rage that +he seemed quite reckless of what he said; and hinted that Hugh might +pay my debts for me, and if he couldn't do so out of his own pocket, +he might get Kavanagh to advance me some out of his future wife's +dividends; that I might have got the girl for myself if I had chosen; +but as it was, he dared say Kavanagh would marry her in the long-run, +for it was easy to see how the wind lay in that quarter." + +Mr. Merrivale: "Can you swear to those words?" + +"I can. My cousin got very angry at this, and said: 'You have no right +to make such remarks or draw any such conclusions; they are false. You +will repent of this to-morrow.' I can swear to those words. Just then +Mrs. Haag, the housekeeper, brought in my uncle's ale and biscuits, as +usual. Barker opened the door for her: I remember that fact. There was +only one tumbler with the bottle brought up. Neither myself nor my +cousin ever touch that beverage. When Mrs. Haag had left the room, +Hugh got up and went to the table where the tray had been placed, and +brought a glass of ale to my uncle with a plate of hard biscuits." + +Coroner: "Did you see the prisoner pour out the ale? Where was he +standing with regard to yourself?" + +"He had his back toward us; I was sitting by the fire opposite my +uncle; the table was in the middle of the room. To get the ale Hugh +must turn his back to us." + +"How long was he at the table?" + +Witness, (after a moment's thought:) "A minute or more; but I could +not speak positively." + +"Sufficient time to have put anything in the ale?" + +Witness, (much agitated:) "Am I obliged to answer this?" + +"You are not obliged; but an unfavorable interpretation might be put +upon your silence." + +Witness (in a very low voice:) "There _was_ time." + +{606} + +Mr. Merrivale: "Did you not observe that some ale was poured out in +the tumbler when it was brought up?" + +"I did not observe it; it might have been so, but I could not say for +certain either way." + +Mr. Merrivale to the coroner: "My client desires me to state +distinctly that a small quantity, about a quarter of a glassful, was +already poured out when he went to the tray. He supposes it was done +to save the overflow from the bottle." + +Coroner: "I will note it." + +Evidence continued: "My uncle drank half the ale at a draught, shook +his bead, and said: 'It is very bitter, to-night.' We neither made any +remark upon it. He likewise took a biscuit and ate it. Soon afterward +I rose to go. He would not say good-night to me. Hugh came to the door +with me--the study-door--and whispered, 'I'll try to appease him and +make it all right for you.' I went straight down-stairs and out of the +house. I remember seeing my cousin's coat hanging in the hall; it was +a brown-tweed waterproof one; but I did not touch it. The coachman +came the following morning with the sad news to my chambers." + +Mr. Merrivale: "Are you acting as sole executor, Mr. Wilmot?" + +"I am; my cousin is aware of it." + +Mr. Walker: "It is illegal to ask for any depositions about the +deceased's will here." + +Coroner: "I am the best judge of that, Mr. Walker. Anything which +throws light upon what we have to find out must be received as +evidence." + +Mr. Merrivale: "Were you aware what the contents of your late uncle's +will were before you opened it at Messrs. Smith and Walker's?" + +"I was not; but both Hugh Atherton and myself were led to anticipate +what the tenor of it would be." + +"Have the results fulfilled your anticipations?" + +"I don't consider myself warranted in answering such a question." + +Coroner: "Have you any thing else to state, Mr. Wilmot?" + +"Nothing, except that I believe in my cousin's innocence." + +Mr. John Kavanagh was then called, and, after the usual preliminaries, +stated that on his return from a tour in Switzerland on the afternoon +of Tuesday, the 23d, he found a note from Mr. Thorneley, which he now +produced. (Note read by the coroner and passed on to the jurymen.) +That upon receipt of it he had gone to Mr. Thorneley's at the hour +appointed, and had been shown at once into that gentleman's study. Had +found him very much altered for the worse and aged since last he had +seen him, some months since. He looked as if some heavy trouble were +upon him, weighing him down. He had transacted the business required, +which occupied, he should say, an hour, and had then left him as calm +and as well as when he (witness) first entered the room. He had chosen +to walk home, and, stopping to light a segar at the corner of Vere +street, had met Mr. Atherton _coming out of the chemist's shop_. Mr. +Atherton had offered to accompany him home, but he (Witness) had +refused, and they had parted, Mr Atherton stating his intention of +coming to see him on the morrow. That the moment after, he had +repented his refusal and hurried back to ask him to return; but being +near-sighted and the night dark, had not been able to distinguish his +figure, and had given up the pursuit. Returning down Vere street, +about half-way he had met a female walking very fast, but who in +passing had almost stopped, and stared very hard at him. She had on a +thick veil, so he could not see her face, nor did he recognize her +figure. The circumstance had passed from his mind until detective +Jones had told him that Mr. Thorneley's housekeeper had been in Vere +street that evening, and seen his meeting with Mr. Atherton, and then +it had struck him it might have been she.--(Here Mr. Merrivale was +seen to confer very earnestly with the {607} prisoner, and afterward +to pass a slip of paper to the coroner, who after reading it bowed, as +if in assent, and then beckoned to a policeman, who left the room.) He +had gone straight home to his chambers, and being tired went early to +bed, and did not wake till very late the following morning, when his +clerk had told him the news of Mr. Thorneley's death, and detective +Jones had called upon him shortly afterward. + +By the coroner: "What was the nature of the business which you +transacted with deceased?" + +"I am bound over very solemnly not to mention it until a certain +time." + +"Was it a will you called the two servants to witness?" + +"I am not at liberty to answer. I pass my word as a gentleman and a +man of honor that in no way do I consider this to affect my friend Mr. +Atherton's present position; and that when it does I shall consider +myself free to speak." + +Mr Walker: "We shall compel you, Mr. Kavanagh, to speak in another +place than this. The breach of etiquette you have committed will not +be passed over by us as the family and confidential legal advisers of +the deceased gentleman." + +"We shall both act as we think right, Mr. Walker." + +The prisoner here in a very hollow voice said "For God's sake, and for +the sake of one who is dear to us both, I entreat you, John Kavanagh, +to reveal any thing that may help to clear an innocent man from this +frightful imputation." + +"I will, Hugh, so help me God! But it would avail you nothing to speak +now." + +Coroner: "Have you anything further to state?" + +"Nothing, save my most solemn religious conviction that Mr. Atherton +is innocent, and that he is the victim of the foulest plot." + +Mr. Walker here appealed to the coroner, and said he objected to such +insinuations being made there; that Mr. Kavanagh had done his best to +criminate the prisoner, and that he was now trying to cast the blame +upon others. + +Mr. Kavanagh was about to make some violent answer, when the coroner +called to order. + +Mr. Merrivale: "Will you have the goodness, Mr. Kavanagh, to look +toward the end of the room, and see if you identify any one there?" + +Mr. Kavanagh: "My God! _It is she!_" + +Coroner: "Who?" + +"The woman I met in Vere street that night." + +Standing opposite to the witness, with the light full upon her, was a +female figure, closely veiled. + +"I never met you, Mr. Kavanagh!" it was the woman who spoke, loudly, +vehemently. + +Coroner to witness: "I see you are using your eyeglass now; were you +using it when you say you met this person in Vere street?" + +"I was." + +"Could you swear that the figure standing before you now and the woman +you met are one and the same?" + +"I would swear that _the appearance_ of that woman standing before me +now and that of the figure I met is one and the same--the same height, +the same carriage, the same veiled face." + +"I never met you, Mr. Kavanagh!" repeated the woman, with a passionate +gesture. + +Coroner: "Mrs. Haag, you can retire." (It was the housekeeper.) + +Mr. Walker: "I don't see how this affects the case." + +Mr. Merrivale: "Probably not, sir; but you will see by and by. I am +much obliged to you, Mr. Coroner." + +Mr. Kavanagh is replaced by Inspector Jackson, detective officer, who +deposed that from information received at Scotland Yard on the morning +of the 24th instant, he had been desired by his superintendent to +proceed to 100 Wimpole street, the residence {608} of the deceased +gentleman, and examine into the case, accompanied by detective Jones. +From information received from the housekeeper and other servants, and +after a conference with the surgeon called in, his suspicions had +fallen upon Mr. Atherton. He had left a policeman in charge from the +nearest station-house, and gone with Jones direct to Mr. Atherton's +chambers in the Temple. On breaking the nature of his visit to that +gentleman, together with the news of Mr. Thorneley's death, he had +been terribly overcome, and exclaimed that he was an innocent man, God +was his witness; that he would not have hurt a hair of the old man's +head; but certainly he _had_ been angry with him the night before. +Cautioned not to say anything which might criminate himself, Mr. +Atherton had again said, in very solemn tones: "My God, thou knowest I +am innocent!" Witness had searched Mr. Atherton's room and clothes; in +the pocket of his coat had found a small empty paper labelled +STRYCHNINE--POISON; with the name of "Davis, chemist, 20 Vere street, +corner of Oxford street."--Questioned by Mr. Merrivale as to which +coat-pocket the packet was found in, replied the overcoat which Mr. +Atherton wore on the previous evening. + +By a juryman: "How do you know it was the identical coat worn that +evening?" + +"The man-servant, John Barker, swears to it; he took it from Mr. +Atherton when he came to Mr. Thorneley's house, and hung it up in the +hall to dry." + +The prisoner: "Yes, I did wear that coat; but I know nothing of the +paper found in it." + +By the coroner: "Have you been in communication with the chemist in +Vere street?" + +Witness: "I have, sir; he remembers--" + +Mr. Merrivale: "I object to this evidence coming from the mouth of Mr. +Inspector. The chemist is here and should be examined himself." + +Mr. Walker, one of the solicitors of deceased "I think that the +evidence should be received from both the inspector and the chemist." + +Mr. Merrivale: "I still object." + +The coroner: "On what ground, Mr. Merrivale?" + +Mr. Merrivale: "On the ground that the inspector having a preconceived +notion when he communicated with the chemist, the latter may have been +misled by his questions. I should at least wish that Davis should be +examined first, and his evidence received direct." + +The coroner: "Very well. Is there anything else, Mr. Inspector?" + +"Nothing else, except that Mr. Atherton denied all knowledge at once +of the paper found." + +By Mr. Merrivale: "Did you not find also a bottle of camphorated +spirits?" + +"I did; but on the table. It was a fresh bottle, unopened, and bore +the same label, from Mr. Davis's." (Witness dismissed.) + +Mr. Merrivale here demanded to have the man Barker recalled, which was +done. + +Mr. Merrivale: "Can you swear to the overcoat which Mr. Atherton wore +the last evening he came to Wimpole street?" + +"Certainly, sir. It was a brown tweed waterproof, with deep pockets. I +know it well." + +"Is that the coat?" (Coat produced.) + +"It is, sir." + +"Can you swear to it?" + +"I can, sir." + +"How long was it between the time Mr. Wilmot went away and the time +Mr. Atherton left the house?" + +"About half an hour or three quarters, I should say." + +"Did you let him out?" + +"No, sir." + +"Nor Mr. Atherton?' + +"No, sir." + +"Did you hear or know of any one being in the hall for any length of +time whilst Mr. Atherton was with his uncle?" + +{609} + +"No one could have been in the hall, sir, we servants were all at +supper." + +"Was the housekeeper with you?" + +"No, sir; she has her supper in her own sitting-room always." + +"Then how are you sure that she did not go into the hall?" + +"I should have heard her door open and her footsteps pass along the +passage. The servants' hall door was open that I might hear master's +bell." + +"You feel certain of this?" + +"I do, sir." + +"I have no more to ask this witness, Mr. Coroner." + +Thomas Davis, chemist, was then called. He deposed that on the evening +of the 23d he perfectly well remembered a gentleman coming into his +shop and buying a small bottle of spirits of camphor. Could not swear +to him, but thinks it may have been the prisoner. It was a tall +gentleman. (Upon being shown the bottle of camphor, immediately +identified it as the one sold. The paper found in Mr. Atherton's +pocket was now produced, and he likewise identified it as coming from +his shop.) The paper and label were the same as he used.--Questioned +as to whether he recollected selling any strychnine either on or +before the 23d, replied he could not remember selling any; but that he +had found a memorandum in his day-book of one grain sold on the 23d. +(Sensation.) Was quite sure it had been sold, or the entry would not +have been made; always made those entries himself. His assistant +reported to him of anything sold during his absence from the shop, and +he then entered it in his day-book as a ready-money transaction. His +assistant might have sold the strychnine on that day; but he had +questioned him and found he did not remember any particulars. Could +swear that he himself remembered nothing about it.--by Mr. Merrivale: +Was generally absent from the shop an hour at dinner-time--from one to +two--and from five to half-past for tea; again at night from nine to +half-past. Closed at ten. + +Mr. Merrivale here asked that Mr. Wilmot and Mrs. Haag might severally +be brought in; to which Mr. Walker objected. The objection was +overruled by the coroner, and Mr. Wilmot was summoned. + +Mr. Merrivale: "Do you remember having seen this gentleman before, Mr. +Davis?" + +"I do not, sir." + +"Nor remember his coming into your shop?" + +"No, sir." + +The housekeeper was then called, with the same results. + +Examination of witness continued: His assistant was a remarkably +steady and able young man, intrusted with making up very important +prescriptions; his word could be relied on; had been with him for five +years. He himself was a licensed member of Apothecaries' Hall. + +The last witness summoned was James Ball, assistant to Mr. Davis, the +chemist. In reply to the coroner, he never remembered having sold any +strychnine on the 23d, though he might have done so; in which case he +would report it to Mr. Davis, who would have entered it in the +day-book. Was in the habit of mentioning each item as soon after it +was sold as opportunity permitted. Could not identify either Mr. +Wilmot or Mrs. Haag as having seen them in the shop.--By Mr. Walker: +Remembered the prisoner coming into the shop on the evening of the +23d; they did not often see such a tall gentleman. His employer, Mr. +Davis, had served him with the camphor. + +By Mr. Merrivale: "Do you mean to say that a customer whom you did not +serve, buying camphor, made an impression on your mind, and yet you +have no recollection of any one coming to your shop and asking for +such a remarkable and _dangerous_ thing as strychnine?" + +After a moment's consideration: + +{610} + +"I remember that gentleman," (pointing to the prisoner,) "because I +wondered what his height might be, and what a jolly thing it must be +to be so tall, especially with such a high counter to serve over." +(Laughter. James Ball was considerably below the middle height) "I +don't recollect anything at all about the strychnine." + +By the coroner: "It is a question probably of life or death, James +Ball, to that gentleman, Mr. Atherton; and I conjure you to strive to +the utmost of your power to call to mind any circumstance concerning +the sale of that poison which may throw some light upon the subject +Take your time now to consider, for I see you _can_ recollect things." + +After some moments of dead silence, James Ball replied, "I remember +nothing further than what I have already stated." + +This closed the evidence, and coroner, summing up, addressed the jury. +He commented upon the awfulness of the crime which had been committed; +on the fearful increase of the use of poisons of every kind for the +purpose of taking away human life. He said in this case the principal +facts they had to deal with were, that it was proved on evidence that +poison had been administered to deceased in the bitter ale, which he +had taken before going to bed. That the poison was pronounced to be +strychnine, which it was well known would probably not take effect +until an hour or so after it had been imbibed. That the glass of +bitter ale in which the strychnine had been detected was poured out +and given to deceased by his nephew, Mr. Hugh Atherton, in presence of +his other nephew, Mr. Wilmot. That it had been proved by medical +evidence that in the ale remaining in the bottle no strychnine had +been detected. All suspicions therefore were confined to the ale which +had been _poured out_. That Mr. Atherton had been heard to use angry, +if not threatening, language to the deceased, (he repeated the words,) +and had been seen by two witnesses coming out of the chemist's shop +kept by the identical man whose name was on the paper labelled +Strychnine, and found in the prisoner's pocket. The prisoner's legal +adviser had stated that a portion of the ale was already poured out in +the tumbler, when he (the prisoner) approached the table for the +purpose of helping his uncle; but no evidence had been adduced of the +fact. Mrs. Haag, the housekeeper, had stated to the contrary. Still +the prisoner was entitled to the benefit of the doubt. There had been +positive evidence that the deceased had died from the effects of +poison; it rested with the jury to decide whether the other evidence +was sufficiently conclusive to warrant their finding a verdict against +the prisoner as having administered the poison. + +After a consultation of some quarter of an hour, the jury returned a +verdict of _Wilful Murder against Mr. Hugh Atherton_. + +Merrivale brought me the news in that dull back-room where I waited, +heaven only knows with what crushing, heart-sick anxiety, and we left +the house--that doomed house of death, of woe and desolation to the +living. + +The crowd outside had thickened and densified; but their cries and +clamors were meaningless sounds for me. As we stood on the pavement +whilst Merrivale hailed a cab, I felt something thrust into my hand--a +piece of paper. I looked round and saw a man disappearing amongst the +throng, who presently turned and held up his hand to me. He was in +plain clothes and somewhat disguised; but I recognized Jones the +detective. When in the cab I unfolded the paper, and read, hastily +scrawled in pencil: + + "Meet me, sir, please, on the Surrey end of London Bridge to-night + at nine o'clock." + "A. Jones." + +{611} + + +CHAPTER VI. + +IN BLUE-ANCHOR LANE. + +Nine o'clock was striking, as I hurried along the footway of London +Bridge, hustled and jostled by the many passengers who seem to be +forever treading their weary road of business, care, or pleasure--for +even pleasure brings its toil; nine o'clock resounding loud and clear +in the night-air from the dome of St. Paul's, and echoed from the +neighboring church-steeples. It sounds romantic enough to please the +most enthusiastic devourers of pre-Radcliffe novels, or to capture the +imagination of the most ardent votaries of fiction. But it was far +otherwise to me on the night of that Thursday which had seen Hugh +Atherton branded with the name of murderer. It was far otherwise to +me--weighed down with the crushing knowledge that the companion of my +youth, the friend of my later years, although an innocent man, was +being gradually hurried on to a felon's death; and that I--_I_ who +loved him so well--had helped to his destruction, though Heaven could +witness how unwillingly and unconsciously. No; there was no romance +for me that night as I dragged my weary steps over the bridge, with +the sight of him before my eyes, and the sound of heart-bursting grief +from the lips of that poor stricken girl, his betrothed bride, ringing +in my ears; for I had been to tell her the results of this day's work. +Oh! why had I not yielded to his wish the evening I met Hugh Atherton +in that fatal street, and taken him home with me? Why had I not more +earnestly followed up the impulse--nay, dare I not call it +inspiration?--to return after him and bid him come back with me? Ah +me! my selfishness, my blindness--could any remorse ever atone for +them and the terrible evil they had brought about? My God, thou +knowest how my heart cried out to thee then in bitterness and sorrow: +"Smite me with thy righteous judgments; but spare him--spare her!" + +And now what new scene in this drama of life was I going to see +unfolded? I could not tell; I knew nothing; I could only pray that if +Providence pointed out to me any track by which I might penetrate the +awful mystery that hung round us, I might pursue it with all fidelity, +with utter forgetfulness of self. I had gone with Merrivale after we +left Wimpole street to the House of Detention where Atherton was +lodged, and desired him to ask that I should see Hugh; but he had come +out looking puzzled and perplexed, and said: "I can't make it out; +Atherton refuses to see you, and gives no reason except that it is +'best not.'" No help was there, then, but to trust to time and +unwearied exertion to remove the cloud between us. + +I found Jones waiting for me at the other end of the bridge, and +anxiously on the look-out. + +"I am right glad to see you, sir; I was fearful you mightn't come, +seeing that I gave you no reason for doing so." + +"I trusted you sufficiently, Jones, to belive you wouldn't have +brought me on a useless errand at such a time of awful anxiety." + +"Bless you, sir, I wouldn't--not for a thousand pounds; and I've had +that offered to me in my day by parties as wished to get rid of me or +shut me up. No, indeed, sir; I'd not add to your trouble if so be I +could not lighten it. But we have no time to lose, and we have a +goodish bit before us. You asked me this morning whether I knew any +thing of a Mr. de Vos. I did not then, but I do now; and a strange +chance threw me across him. If, sir, you will trust yourself entirely +to me to-night, I think I can be of use to you. But you must confide +in me, and allow me to take the lead in everything. And first, will +you let me ask you one or two questions?" + +I told him he might ask anything he pleased; if I could not answer, I +would tell him so; that I would trust him implicitly. + +{612} + +"Then, sir, will you condescend to honor me by coming home first for a +few minutes? My missus expects us. She's in a terrible way about Mr. +Atherton: she never forgets past kindness." + +We turned off the bridge, straight down Wellington street, High street +Borough, and then into King street, where Jones stopped before a +respectable-looking private house, and knocked. The door was opened by +his wife--with whom, under other circumstances, I had been acquainted +before--and we entered their neat little front-parlor. Evidently we +were expected, for supper was laid--homely, but substantial, and +temptingly clean. + +"You must excuse us, sir," said Jones; "but I fancied it was likely +you had taken little enough to-day, and I told Jane to have something +ready for us. Please to eat, Mr. Kavanagh; we have a short journey +before us, and I want you to have all your wits and energies about +you." + +I was faint and sick, true enough; for I had touched nothing save a +biscuit and a glass of wine since the morning; but my stomach seemed +to loathe food; and though I drew to the table, not wishing to offend +the good people, I felt as if to swallow a morsel would choke me. +Jones cut up the cold ham and chicken in approved style, whilst his +wife busied herself with slicing off thin rounds of bread and butter; +but I toyed with my knife and fork, and could not eat. Not so Jones; +he took down incredible quantities of all that was before him with the +zest of a man who knows he is going to achieve luck's victory. +Presently he threw down his tools, and looked hard at me. + +"This'll never do, sir; you _must_ eat." + +I shook my head and smiled. + +"Jane," said he to his wife, "bring out Black Peter; no one ever +needed him more than Mr. Kavanagh." + +Mrs. Jones opened a cupboard and brought forth a tapery-necked bottle, +out of which her husband very carefully poured some liquid into a +wineglass, and then as carefully corked it up again. + +"Drink this, sir; I've never known it to fail yet." + +I lifted the glass to my lips. "Why, it's the primest Curaçoa!" I +cried. + +"That it may be, sir, for all I know. A poor German, to whom I once +rendered a service, sent me two bottles, and I've found it the best +cordial I ever tasted. I call it Black Peter--his name was Peter, and +he was uncommonly black, to be sure--but I never heard its right name +before. Drink it off, sir, and you'll feel a world better presently." + +I did, and the effects were as Jones prognosticated. The cold, sick +shivering left me, and I was able in a little while to take some food. + +"Now, Jane," said the good man to his wife, when he saw I was getting +on all right, "shut up your ears; Mr. Kavanagh and I are going to talk +business." + +Mrs. Jones laughed, picked up some needle-work, and sat down to a +small table by the fire. + +"My wife's a true woman, sir, in every thing but her tongue; she +_don't_ talk: I'll back her against Sir Richard himself for keeping +dark on a secret case. Now, sir, will you please to tell me, if you +can, why you are anxious to find out about this Mr. de Vos?" + +I related to him about my meeting De Vos at my sister's, what I had +heard and witnessed in Swain's Lane, the impressions made upon me +then, and how I had caught sight of the man outside the police-court +on the preceding day. Jones listened very attentively, and made notes +of it all. + +"Exactly," said he, when I ended by saying that Mr. Wilmot had denied +all knowledge of De Vos and the rendezvous in Swain's Lane. "Just what +I expected. Of course he would." + +"What! Do you think he did know, and that it was Wilmot's voice I +heard?" + +{613} + +"I think nothing, sir" said be, with a curious smile; "but I guess a +good deal. We have a terribly-tangled skein to unravel; but I think in +following up this man we have got the right end of it. I must now tell +you how I stumbled upon him to-day. I heard from inspector Keene that +he was engaged by Mr. Merrivale to see into this murder of old Mr. +Thorneley; and knowing how partial I was to Mr. Atherton--good reason +too--he asked me if I'd like to help him, and if so, he'd speak about +me to Sir Richard Mayne. I said I would, above all things, for I'd had +a hand in taking him, though I believed he was innocent; and now I'd +give much to help him back to his liberty again. To cut short with the +story, it was settled I should hang about the house to-day during the +inquest in disguise, to pick up any stray information that might be +let drop; for there's a deal more known, sir, about rich folks and +their households by such people as those who were crowded round the +house today than ever you'd think for; and we gather much of our most +valuable information by mixing in these crowds unknown, and listening +to the casual gossip that goes on in them. So I made myself up into a +decent old guy, and took my way to Wimpole street. Whilst waiting to +cross Oxford street two men came up behind me, and I heard a few words +drop which made me turn round to look at them. Sure enough, one +answered most perfectly your description of this Mr. De Vos. I thought +to myself, 'Here's game worth following;' and I did follow, and heard +them make an appointment for to-night on this side the water. Now, +sir, do you see why I asked you to meet me?' + +"I do. We must be present at the meeting." + +"Just so, sir; and we have no time to lose, for the hour mentioned was +soon after ten o'clock. If you'll take nothing else we will go. We +must go made up; and you'll trust entirely to me." + +"You mean disguised?" + +"I do, sir; if you'll come up-stairs, I'll give you what is +necessary." + +Up-stairs we went, and Jones produced from a chest of drawers a rough +common seaman's jacket, a pair of duck trowsers, a woollen comforter, +a tarpaulin hat, and a false black beard, in which he rigged me out; +and then proceeded to make similar change in his own attire, with the +exception of a wig of shaggy red hair and a pair of whiskers to match. + +"Leave your watch, sir, and any little articles of jewelry you may +have about you, in my wife's charge; keep your hat well slouched over +your face and your hands in your pockets, give a swing and swagger to +your walk, and you'll do." + +"Why, where upon earth are we going, Jones?" + +"To Blue-Anchor Lane, sir, if you know where that very fashionable +quarter lies." + +I did not know exactly where it was, saying from police-reports, which +named it as one of the lowest parts of that low district lying between +Bermondsey and Rotherhithe. I had been somewhere near it once, having +occasion to call on one of the clergy belonging to the Catholic Church +in Parker's Row; but that was quite an aristocratic part, for a +wonder, compared with Blue-Anchor Lane. Yes, Parker's Row I had +visited; and, thanks to my having grown and "gentlefolked" to the +height of six feet odd, I had managed to pull the bell and get +admitted to the convent behind the church, where dwell the good +Sisters of Mercy, walled-in all tight and trim. But down Blue-Anchor +Lane I had never penetrated; and I asked Jones if it were not +considered a favorite haunt for characters of the worst description. + +"It is so, sir; and we must be careful and cautious to-night in all we +do." I noticed that he put his staff and alarum in his pocket, and +furnished me with similar implements. "In case of necessity, sir," he +said, {614} laughing, "you must act as special constable with me. I +wouldn't take you into the smallest danger; but, you see, I don't know +but what your presence is of absolute necessity, and that you may be +able to gather a clue in this case quicker than I should. Not that I +yield in quickness at twigging most things to any man," said Detective +Jones, with a bit of professional pride quite pardonable; "but you +must identify the man for certain yourself, sir, before I can act in +the matter with anything like satisfaction." + +It was just upon ten o'clock when we left King street, and proceeded +to London Bridge; whence we took the train to Spa Road. It takes, as +every one knows, but a few minutes in the transit; and leaving that +dark, dismal, break-neck hole of a station, we turned to the left up +Spa Road, down Jamaica Row, and so into Blue-Anchor Lane. It is +needless to describe what that place is at night; it is needless to +picture in words all the degrading vice that walks forth unmasked in +some of the streets of this capital, which ranks so high amidst the +great cities o the world. Is our exterior morality to be so far +behind, so infinitely below, that of tribes and nations on whom we +stoop to trample? Can such things be, and we not waken from our +lethargic sleep, remembering what our account will one day be? Can our +rulers so calmly eat and drink, take their pleasure, hunt their game, +pursue their gentlemanlike sports, knowing, as assuredly they do too +well, that thousands of their people are living lives more degraded, +more brutal, more shamelessly inhuman, more full of sin, ignorance, +and every kind of squalor and misery, than the wildest savages we have +set our soldiers to hunt out of the lands in which God placed them? + +"What can the man be doing in such a place as this?" I whispered to +Jones, as he stopped before the door of a small low-looking house of +entertainment, half coffee-shop and half public-house, that rejoiced +in the name of "Noah's Ark." + +"That's just what we've got to find out, sir. Somehow it strikes me +he's better acquainted with such haunts as these than you and I are +with Regent street or Piccadilly. If I haven't seen his face before, +and that not ten yards from the Old Bailey, I'm blest if I was ever +more mistaken in my life. But hush! here he is." + +And swaggering along, with his hat stuck on one side, and murmuring a +verse of "Rory O'Moore," came Mr. de Vos, my sister Elinor's +"treasure-trove," evidently somewhat airy in the upper regions, and +elated by good cheer. Jones had taken out a short clay pipe, and +whilst seemingly intent on filling it I saw he was watching De Vos +with a keen observant glance. The latter gentleman was far from being +intoxicated; he was merely what is called "elevated," and quite wide +awake enough to be wary of anything going on around him. I saw him +start perceptibly as his eye fell upon me, though my slouched hat and +high collar must have gone a good way toward concealing my features. + +"Fine night, mate," said Jones in a bluff, loud voice, lighting and +pulling vigorously at his pipe. + +"Deed and it is so," answered De Vos, halting just opposite to us, and +once more turning his scrutiny upon me. "Are you game for a dhrop of +whiskey?" addressing himself especially to me. + +I was about to answer in feigned tones, when Jones took the word out +of my mouth, and replied: "No use asking him--he's too love-sick just +now to care for drink; he's parted with his sweetheart, and is off for +the West-Indies by five in the morning from the Docks." + +Something now seemed to attract De Vos's attention to Jones, for he +became suddenly very grave. + +"I've not seen you here before," said he, peering into the detective's +face. + +{615} + +"May be you have, may be you haven't. I don't need to ask any man's +leave to drink a pint at 'Noah's Ark,' and watch a game of skittles." + +This, as Jones told me afterward, was quite a random shot; however, it +took effect. + +"I believe you," said De Vos with all the boastfulness of his nature. +"You'll not see a betther bowler through the country entirely than +meself. I'll back the odds against any man this side the Channel, and +bedad to it. I dare say now it's here on Monday last you were to see +me play?" + +"Ay, ay, mate," sang out Jones; "right enough." + +"Ah! thin it was small shiners I went in for then; but I'll lay a +couple of fivers now against a brad, and play you fair to-morrow +against any of them in there," with a back-handed wave to the house, +whence unmistakable sounds of noisy mirth were proceeding. "Is it +done?" + +"I'll consider your offer--shiver my timbers but I will!" said Jones, +with a burst of Jack-tar-ism--"and let you know in the morning." + +"Just as you please; you pays your money and you takes your choice;" +and nodding to Jones, who responded to the salute in approved style, +De Vos passed into the tap-room of the "Ark." + +"Is it he?" hurriedly whispered Jones when he was out of hearing. + +"Yes, without doubt," answered I, in the same tones. + +"Then follow me, sir; and keep silent unless I speak to you;" and we +likewise entered through the swing-doors of the gayly-lighted bar. + +A glance sufficed to show us that the man we sought was not there; but +Jones was far from being disconcerted; indeed he seemed most +thoroughly up to the mark in the task before him, and threw himself +into the part he had assigned himself with all the genius and facility +of a Billington or Toole. Three or four men with physiognomies that +would not have disgraced the hangman's rope were drinking, smoking, +and exchanging low _badinage_ with a flashy-looking young woman, who +stood behind the bar-counter. Woman, did I say? Angels pity her! There +was little of womanly nature left in the fierce glitter of her eyes, +in the hard lines of premature age which dissipation and sin and woe +had left carved upon her forehead and around her mouth. Little enough +of this though, no doubt, thought Detective Jones, intent upon his own +purposes, as he quickly made up to her, and asked with all the +swaggering audacity of a "jolly tar," for two stiff glasses of the +primest pine-apple rum-and-water. + +Jones extracted a long clay pipe from the lot standing before us in a +broken glass, and passed it to me, and handed his pouch of tobacco, +with an expressive glance that told me I was to smoke. Whilst filling +the pipe and lighting it, the woman returned with the rum-and-water, +which she placed ungraciously before us with a bang and clatter that +caused the liquid to spill out of the glasses. + +"Look here, miss," said Jones in his most insinuating tones; "I'll +forgive you for upsetting the grog, and give you five bob to buy a +blue ribbon for your pretty hair, if you'll manage to get me and my +mate a snug comer inside there," pointing to a door on the left, +whence issued voices; "for we've a bit of money business to settle +to-night, and he's off first thing in the morning for the Indies." + +The woman seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then holding out her +hand for the promised tip, she beckoned us to pass inside the bar, and +led the way to the door. Before she opened it she said in a low voice: + +"I am doing as much as my place is worth; but I want the money; take +the table in the corner at the top here; keep yourselves quiet, and +don't take no notice of nobody, least of all of him who'll be next +you." + +{616} + +She now opened the door, and I saw Jones slip some more money into her +hand, which she received with a short grunt and a nod, and then closed +the door upon us. + +The room was divided like that of an ordinary coffee-shop into box +compartments; the one in the right-hand corner by the door was empty, +and we entered it, carrying our glasses and pipes with us. We seated +ourselves at the end of the two benches opposite each other, and then +glanced round. In the box _vis-à-vis_ were two rough-looking fellows, +whom I took to be real followers of our pretended calling--the sea. +They returned our gaze suspiciously enough, and we could hear one +whisper to the other, "Who's them coves?" and the answer "Dunno; none +of _us_." But the next moment my attention was diverted to the voices +in the box next to ours. + +"Did you see _her_?" It was De Vos who spoke, I felt sure. + +"Not I, my God! not I," answered a deep hoarse voice. "It's ten years +since she and I met, and I'd go to my grave sooner than we should meet +again. Mind you, the day when her cold cruel eyes rest on me will be a +fatal day for me. Faugh! I've passed through as much bloodshed as it's +ever given one man to encounter in his life, and never flinched; but I +tell you, Sullivan, the thought of meeting her face to face seems to +freeze the life-blood of my heart." + +"Do you think she had a hand in this, O'Brian?" + +"Who can tell? She did not pause once; what should stop her again?" + +"The fear of you." + +"She sees no reason to fear. She believes I'm still over _there_, +where she sent me." + +"And the young fellow, _my_ man, does he know anything?" + +"Again how can I tell? But I should say not. How could _she_ enlighten +_him_?" + +"Then he is--" + +"Their son." + +A pause succeeded. Meanwhile Jones had engaged in a sort of dumb-show +with me to throw the men opposite off the scent, by passing papers and +money backwards and forwards, and apparently making calculations with +his pencil; in reality I saw he was taking notes. Presently De Vos +spoke again. + +"Well, let's drink to the heir, old boy; and so long as I can make him +play the piper, why thin it's myself that will, and bedad to him." + +His Irishisms, be it observed, were intermittent. + +"Long life to the heir!" cried the two voices simultaneously; and +there was a clash of glasses. + +"What's the time of day by your ticker?" asked De Vos a few moments +afterward. + +"Just upon eleven. The lad was to be here by then, wasn't he?" + +"Yes, by eleven. I'd like to know what he wants with me now." + +Jones here took up his cap, buttoned his coat, quietly opened the +door, and went out; I following him, of course. He threw a +good-humored nod to the woman, who still stood behind the bar, and I +did the same; but he never spoke until we were some yards from "Noah's +ark." + +"You may be thankful, sir," he then said in a low voice, "to have got +out safely and unmolested. That's the worst haunt of some of the worst +characters in London; and they're banded together so as to shut out +every one as don't belong to them. There's been a Providence, sir, in +it all," raising his cap, "depend upon it. Now we must see if we can +stop this lad whom they are expecting. We'll talk the matter over +afterward." + +Just then a boy came up running at full speed. + +"Halt!" cried Jones, laying his hand on the lad's shoulder. "What +makes you so late?" + +"What's the odds to you? Let me go," replied the boy, with a mixture +of impudence and cunning in his face. "I'm not not bound for you." + +"You're bound for 'Noah's Ark,' though." + +{617} + +"Are you Mr. Sullivan?" + +"Of course I am." + +"Oh! then here's the letter, and you're to see if it's all right." + +"All right," said Detective Jones, opening the note and glancing at +its contents; "tell the gentleman I'll be there. Here's for you, young +Codlings," dropping a half-crown into the boy's hand. + +"Five shillings, and not a stiver less, is my fare." + +"Here you are then, you small imp of iniquity;" and another coin of +similar value found its way into the ragamuffin's pocket. + +He cut a caper, turned head over heels, and was gone. + +And now Jones tore on breathlessly till we were safe out of +Blue-Anchor Lane and had reached Paradise Row, where a policeman was +standing at the corner. Jones took him aside for a minute, and then +rejoined me. + +"We'll hail the first cab, sir, in Spa Road, and drive to your home, +if you've no objection." + +This we did; and as soon as we had started he took a small +candle-lantern from his pocket, lit it, and then handed me the note to +read which he had taken from the boy. It contained but few words; no +names used, no address, no signature, and simply desired the person +addressed to meet the writer the following day at the usual place and +hour. What clue was there in that to the dark mystery we were bent on +solving? Only this, and I put it into words: + +"Great heavens! it is Lister Wilmot's handwriting!" + + + +TO BE CONTINUED. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +THE MARTYR. + + + Serene above the world he stands, + Uplift to heaven on wings of prayer: + Across his breast his folded hands + Recall the cross he loved to bear. + + Upon his upturned brow the light + Flows like the smile of God: he sees + A flash of wings that daze his sight, + He hears seraphic melodies. + + In vain the cruel crowd may roar, + In vain the cruel flames may hiss: + Like seas that lash a distant shore, + They faintly pierce his sphering bliss. + + He hears them, and he does not hear-- + His fleshly bonds are loosened all-- + No earthly sound can claim the ear + That listens for his Father's call. + + It comes--and swift the spirit spurns, + His quivering lips and soars away; + The blind crowd roars, the blind fire burns, + While God receives their fancied prey. + +D. A. C. + +------ + +{618} + + +From The Month. + +ECCE HOMO. [Footnote 131] + + [Footnote 131: "Ecce homo." A Survey of the Life and Work of Jesus + Christ. Macmillan. 1866.] + + [The London _Reader_ says the following article is from the pen of + the Very Rev. Dr. Newman.--Ed. C.W.] + +The word "remarkable" has been so hacked of late in theological +criticism--nearly as much so as "earnest" and "thoughtful"--that we do +not like to make use of it on the present occasion without an apology. +In truth, it presents itself as a very convenient epithet, whenever we +do not like to commit ourselves to any definite judgment on a subject +before us, and prefer to spread over it a broad neutral tint to +painting it distinctly white, red, or black. A man, or his work, or +his deed, is "remarkable" when he produces an effect; be he effective +for good or for evil, for truth or for falsehood--a point which, as +far as that expression goes, we leave it for others or for the future +to determine. Accordingly it is just the word to use in the instance +of a volume in which what is trite and what is novel, what is striking +and what is startling, what is sound and what is untrustworthy, what +is deep and what is shallow, are so mixed up together, or at least so +vaguely suggested, or so perplexingly confessed, which has so much of +occasional force, of circumambient glitter, of pretence and of +seriousness, as to make it impossible either with a good conscience to +praise it, or without harshness and unfairness to condemn. Such a book +is at least likely to be effective, whatever else it is or is not; and +if it is effective, it may be safely called remarkable, and therefore +we apply the epithet "remarkable" to this "Ecce Homo." + +It is remarkable, then, on account of the sensation which it has made +in religious circles. In the course of a few months it has reached a +third edition, though it is a fair-sized octavo and not an over-cheap +one. And it has received the praise of critics and reviewers of very +distinct shades of opinion. Such a reception must be owing either to +the book itself or to the circumstances of the day in which it has +appeared, or to both of these causes together. Or, as seems to be the +case, the needs of the day have become a call for some such work; and +the work, on its appearance, has been thankfully welcomed, on account +of its professed object, by those whose needs called for it. The +author includes himself in the number of these; and, while providing +for his own wants, he has ministered to theirs. This is what we +especially mean by calling his book "remarkable." + +Disputants may maintain, if they please, that religious doubt is our +natural, our normal state; that to cherish doubts is our duty that to +complain of them is impatience; that to dread them is cowardice; that +to overcome them is inveracity; that it is even a happy state, a state +of calm philosophic enjoyment, to be conscious of them--but after all, +necessary or not, such a state is not natural, and not happy, if the +voice of mankind is to decide the question. English minds, in +particular, have too much of a religious temper in them, as a natural +gift, to acquiesce for any long time in positive, active doubt. For +doubt and devotion are incompatible with each other; every doubt, be +it greater or less, stronger or weaker, involuntary as well as +voluntary, acts upon {619} devotion, so far forth, as water sprinkled, +or dashed, or poured out upon a flame, Real and proper doubt kills +faith, and devotion with it; and even involuntary or half-deliberate +doubt, though it does not actually kill faith, goes far to kill +devotion; and religion without devotion is little better than a +burden, and soon becomes a superstition. Since, then, this is a day of +objection and of doubt about the intellectual basis of revealed truth, +it follows that there is a great deal of secret discomfort and +distress in the religions portion of the community, the result of that +general curiosity in speculation and inquiry which has been the growth +among us of the last twenty or thirty years. + +The people of this country, being Protestants, appeal to Scripture, +when a religious question arises, as their ultimate informant and +decisive authority in all such matters; but who is to decide for them +the previous question, that Scripture is really such an authority? +When, then, as at this time, its divine authority is the very point to +be determined, that is, the character and extent of its inspiration +and its component parts, then they find themselves at sea, without +possessing any power over the direction of their course. Doubting +about the authority of Scripture, they doubt about its substantial +truth; doubting about its truth, they have doubts concerning the +objects which it sets before their faith, about the historical +accuracy and objective reality of the picture which it presents to us +of our Lord. We are not speaking of wilful doubting but of those +painful misgivings, greater or less, to which we have already alluded. +Religious Protestants, when they think calmly on the subject, can +hardly conceal from themselves that they have a house without logical +foundations, which contrives indeed for the present to stand, but +which may go any day--and where are they then? + +Of course Catholics will tell them to receive the canon of Scripture +on the authority of the church, in the spirit of St. Augustine's +well-known words: "I should not believe the gospel, were I not moved +by the authority of the Catholic Church." But who, they ask, is to be +voucher in turn for the church and St. Augustine? is it not as +difficult to prove the authority of the church and her doctors as the +authority of the Scriptures? We Catholics answer, and with reason, in +the negative; but, since they cannot be brought to agree with us here, +what argumentative ground is open to them? Thus they seem drifting, +slowly perhaps, but surely, in the direction of scepticism. + +It is under these circumstances that they are invited, in the volume +before us, to betake themselves to the contemplation of our Lord's +character, as it is recorded by the evangelists, as carrying with it +its own evidence, dispensing with extrinsic proof, and claiming +authoritatively by itself the faith and devotion of all to whom it is +presented. Such an argument, of course, is as old as Christianity +itself; the young man in the Gospel calls our Lord "Good Master," and +St. Peter introduces him to the first Gentile converts as one who +"went about doing good;" and in these last times we can refer to the +testimony even of unbelievers in behalf of an argument as simple as it +is constraining. "Si la vie et la mort de Socrate sont d'un sage," +says Rousseau, "la vie et la mort de Jésus sont d'un Dieu." And he +clenches the argument by observing, that, were the picture a mere +conception of the sacred writers, "l'inventeur en serait plus étonnant +que le héros." Its especial force lies in its directness; it comes to +the point at once, and concentrates in itself evidence, doctrine, and +devotion. In theological language, it is the _motivum credibilitatis_, +the _objectum materiale_ and the _formale_, all in one; it unites +human reason and supernatural faith in one complex act; and it comes +home to all men, educated and ignorant, young and old. And it is the +point to which, after all {620} and in fact, all religious minds tend, +and in which they ultimately rest, even if they do not start from it. +Without an intimate apprehension of the personal character of our +Saviour, what professes to be faith is little more than an act of +ratiocination. If faith is to live, it must love; it must lovingly +live in the author of faith as a true and living being, _in Deo vivo +et vero_; according to the saying of the Samaritans to their +towns-woman: "We now believe, not for thy saying, for we ourselves +have heard him." Many doctrines may be held implicitly; but to see him +as if intuitively is the very promise and gift of him who is the +object of the intuition. We are constrained to believe when it is he +that speaks to us about himself. + +Such undeniably is the characteristic of divine faith viewed in +itself; but here we are concerned, not simply with faith, but with its +logical antecedents; and the question returns on which we have already +touched, as a difficulty with Protestants--how can our Lord's life, as +recorded in the Gospels, be a logical ground of faith, unless we set +out with assuming the truth of those Gospels; that is, without +assuming as proved the original matter of doubt? And Protestant +apologists, it may be urged--Paley for instance--show their sense of +this difficulty when they place the argument drawn from our Lord's +character only among the auxiliary evidences of Christianity. Now the +following answer may fairly be made to this objection; nor need we +grudge Protestants the use of it, for, as will appear in the sequel, +it proves too much for their purpose, as being an argument for the +divinity not only of Christ's mission, but of that of his church also. +However, we say this by the way. + +It may be maintained then, that, making as large an allowance as the +most sceptical mind, when pressed to state its demands in full, would +desire, we are at least safe in asserting that the books of the New +Testament, taken as a whole, existed about the middle of the second +century, and were then received by Christians, or were in the way of +being received, and nothing else but them was received, as the +authoritative record of the origin and rise of their religion. In that +first age they were the only account of the mode in which Christianity +was introduced to the world. Internal as well as external evidence +sanctions us in so speaking. Four Gospels, the book of the acts of the +Apostles, various Apostolic writings, made up then, as now, our sacred +books. Whether there was a book more or less, say even an important +book, does not affect the general character of the religion as those +books set it forth. Omit one or other of the Gospels, and three or +four Epistles, and the outline and nature of its objects and its +teaching remain what they were before the omission. The moral +peculiarities, if particular, of its Founder are, on the whole, +identical, whether we learn them from St. Matthew, St. John, St. +Peter, or St. Paul. He is not in one book a Socrates, in another a +Zeno, and in a third an Epicurus. Much less is the religion changed or +obscured by the loss of particular chapters or verses, or even by +inaccuracy in fact, or by error in opinion, (supposing _per +impossible_ such a charge could be made good,) in particular portions +of a book. For argument's sake, suppose that the three first Gospels +are an accidental collection of traditions or legends, for which no +one is responsible, and in which Christians put faith because there +was nothing else to put faith in. This is the limit to which extreme +scepticism can proceed, and we are willing to commence our argument by +granting it. Still, starting at this disadvantage, we should be +prepared to argue, that if, in spite of this, and after all, there be +shadowed out in these anonymous and fortuitous documents a teacher +_sui generis_, distinct, consistent, and original, then does that +picture, thus accidentally resulting, for the very reason {621} of its +accidental composition, only become more marvellous; then he is an +historical fact and again a supernatural or divine fact--historical +from the consistency of the representation, and because the time +cannot be assigned when it was not received as a reality; and +supernatural, in proportion as the qualities, with which he is +invested in those writings, are incompatible with what it is +reasonable or possible to ascribe to human nature viewed simply in +itself. Let these writings be as open to criticism, whether as to +their origin or their text, as sceptics can maintain; nevertheless the +representation in question is there, and forces upon the mind a +conviction that it records a fact, and a superhuman fact, just as the +reflection of an object in a stream remains in its definite form, +however rapid the current, and however many the ripples, and is a sure +warrant to us of the presence of the object on the bank, though that +object be out of sight. + +Such, we conceive, though stated in our own words, is the argument +drawn out in the pages before us, or rather such is the ground on +which the argument is raised; and the interest which it has excited +lies, not in its novelty, but in the particular mode in which it is +brought before the reader, in the originality and preciseness of +certain strokes by which is traced out for us the outline of the +divine teacher. These strokes are not always correct; they are +sometimes gratuitous, sometimes derogatory to their object; but they +are always determinate; and, being such, they present an old argument +before us with a certain freshness, which, because it is old, is +necessary for its being effective. + +We do not wonder at all, then, at the sensation which the volume is +said to have caused at Oxford, and among the Anglicans of the Oxford +school, after the wearisome doubt and disquiet of the last ten years; +for it has opened the prospect of a successful issue of inquiries in +an all-important province of thought, where there seemed to be no +thoroughfare. Distinct as are the liberal and catholicising parties in +the Anglican Church, both in their principles and their policy, it +must not be supposed that they are as distinct in the members that +compose them. No line of demarcation can be drawn between the one +collection of men and the other, in fact; for no two minds are +altogether alike, and, individually, Anglicans have each his own shade +of opinion, and belong partly to this school, partly to that. Or, +rather, there is a large body of men who are neither the one nor the +other; they cannot be called an intermediate party, for they have no +discriminating watch-words; they range from those who are almost +Catholic to those who are almost liberals. They are not liberals, +because they do not glory in a state of doubt; they cannot profess to +be "Anglo-Catholics," because they are not prepared to give an eternal +assent to all that is put forth by the church as truth of revelation. +These are the men who, if they could, would unite old ideas with new; +who cannot give up tradition, yet are loth to shut the door to +progress; who look for a more exact adjustment of faith with reason +than has hitherto been attained; who love the conclusions of Catholic +theology better than the proofs, and the methods of modern thought +better than its results; and who, in the present wide unsettlement of +religious opinion, believe indeed, or wish to believe, scripture and +orthodox doctrine, taken as a whole, and cannot get themselves to avow +any deliberate dissent from any part of either, but still, not knowing +how to defend their belief with logical exactness, or at least feeling +that there are large unsatisfied objections lying against parts of it, +or having misgivings lest there should be such, acquiesce in what is +called a practical belief, that is, believe in revealed truths, only +because belief in them is the safest course, because they are +probable, and because belief in {622} consequence is a duty, not as if +they felt absolutely certain, though they will not allow themselves to +be actually in doubt. Such is about the description to be given of +them as a class, though, as we have said, they so materially differ +from each other, that no general account of them can be applied +strictly to any individual in their body. + +Now, it is to this large class which we have been describing that such +a work as that before us, in spite of the serious errors which they +will not be slow to recognize in it, comes as a friend in need. They +do not stumble at the author's inconsistencies or shortcomings; they +are arrested by his professed purpose, and are profoundly moved by his +successful hits (as they may be called) toward fulfilling it. Remarks +on the gospel history, such as Paley's they feel to be casual and +superficial; such as Rousseau's, to be vague and declamatory: they +wish to justify with their intellect all that they believe with their +heart; they cannot separate their ideas of religion from its revealed +object; but they have an aching dissatisfaction within them, that they +apprehend him so dimly, when they would fain (as it were) see and +touch him as well as hear. When, then, they have logical grounds +presented to them for holding that the recorded picture of our Lord is +its own evidence, that it carries with it its own reality and +authority, that his "revelatio" is "revelata" in the very act of being +a "revelatio," it is as if he himself said to them, as he once said to +his disciples, "It is I, be not afraid;" and the clouds at once clear +off, and the waters subside, and the land is gained for which they are +looking out. + +The author before us, then, has the merit of promising what, if he +could fulfil it, would entitle him to the gratitude of thousands. We +do not say, we are very far from thinking, that he has actually +accomplished so high an enterprise, though he seems to be ambitious +enough to hope that he has not come far short of it. He somewhere +calls his book a treatise; he would have done better to call it an +essay; nor need he have been ashamed of a word which Locke has used in +his work on the Human Understanding. Before concluding, we shall take +occasion to express our serious sense, how very much his execution +falls below his purpose; but certainly it is a great purpose which he +sets before him, and for that he is to be praised. And there is at +least this singular merit in his performance, as he has given it to +the public, that he is clear-sighted and fair enough to view our +Lord's work in its true light, as including in it the establishment of +a visible kingdom or church. In proportion, then, as we shall +presently find it our duty to pass some severe remarks upon his +volume, as it comes before us, so do we feel bound, before doing so, +to give some specimens of it in that point of view in which we +consider it really to subserve the cause of revealed truth. And in the +sketch which we are now about to give of the first steps of his +investigation, we must not be understood to make him responsible for +the language in which we shall exhibit them to our readers, and which +will unavoidably involve our own corrections of his ailment, and our +own coloring. + +Among a people, then, accustomed by the most sacred traditions of +their religion to a belief in the appearance, from time to time, of +divine messengers for their instruction and reformation, and to the +expectation of one such messenger to come, the last and greatest of +all, who should also be their king and deliverer as well as their +teacher, suddenly is found, after a long break in the succession and a +period of national degradation, a prophet of the old stamp, in one of +the deserts of the country---John, the son of Zachary. He announces +the promised kingdom as close at hand, calls his countrymen to +repentance, and institutes a rite symbolical of it. The people seem +disposed to take him for the destined Saviour; but he points out to +them a {623} private person in the crowd which is flocking about him; +and henceforth the interest which his own preaching has excited +centres in that other. Thus our Lord is introduced to the notice of +his countrymen. + +Thus brought before the world, he opens his mission. What is the first +impression it makes upon us? Admiration of its singular simplicity +both as to object and work. Such of course ought to be its character, +if it was to be the fulfilment of the ancient, long-expected promise; +and such it was, as our Lord proclaimed it. Other men, who do a work, +do not set about it as their object; they make several failures; they +are led on to it by circumstances; they miscalculate their powers; or +they are drifted from the first in a direction different from that +which they had chosen; they do most where they are expected to do +least. But our Lord said and did. "He formed one plan and executed +it," (p. 18). Next, what was that plan? Let us consider the force of +the words in which, as the Baptist before him, he introduced his +ministry; "The kingdom of God is at hand." What was meant by the +kingdom of God? "The conception was no new one, but familiar to every +Jew," (p. 19.) At the first formation of the nation and state of the +Israelites the Almighty had been their king; when a line of earthly +kings was introduced, then God spoke by the prophets. The existence of +the theocracy was the very constitution and boast of Israel, as +limited monarchy, liberty, and equality are the boast respectively of +certain modern nations. Moreover, the gospel proclamation ran, +"Poenitentiam agite; for the kingdom of heaven is at hand;" here again +was another and recognized token of a theophany; for the mission of a +prophet, as we have said above, was commonly a call to reformation and +expiation of sin. A divine mission, then, such as our Lord's, was a +falling back upon the original covenant between God and his people; +but next, while it was an event of old and familiar occurrence, it +ever had carried with it in its past instances something new, in +connection with the circumstances under which it took place. The +prophets were accustomed to give interpretations, or to introduce +modifications of the letter of the law, to add to its conditions and +to enlarge its application. It was to be expected, then, that now, +when the new prophet, to whom the Baptist pointed, opened his +commission, he too, in like manner, would be found to be engaged in a +restoration, but in a restoration which should also be a religious +advance; and that the more if he really was the special, final prophet +of the theocracy, to whom all former prophets had looked forward, and +in whom their long and august line was to be summed up and perfected. +In proportion as his work was to be more signal, so would his new +revelations be wider and more wonderful. + +Did our Lord fulfil these expectations? Yes, there was this +peculiarity in his mission, that he came not only as one of the +prophets in the kingdom of God, but as the king himself of that +kingdom. Thus his mission involves the most exact return to the +original polity of Israel, which the appointment of Saul had +disarranged, while it recognizes also the line of prophets, and +infuses a new spirit into the law. Throughout his ministry our Lord +claimed and received the title of king, which no prophet ever had done +before. On his birth, the wise men came to worship "the king of the +Jews;" "thou art the Son of God, thou art the king of Israel," cried +Nathanael after his baptism; and on his cross the charge recorded +against him was that he professed to be "king of the Jews." "During +his whole public life," says the author, "he is distinguished from the +other prominent characters of Jewish history by his unbounded personal +pretensions. He calls himself habitually king and master. He claims +expressly the character of that divine Messiah for which the ancient +prophets had directed the nation to look," (page 25.) + +{624} + +He is, then, a King, as well as a Prophet; but is he as one of the old +heroic kings, David or Solomon? Had such been his pretension, he had +not, in his own words, "discerned the signs of the times." It would +have been a false step in him, into which other would-be champions of +Israel, before and after him, actually fell, and in consequence +failed. But here this young Prophet is from the first distinct, +decided, and original. His contemporaries, indeed, the wisest, the +most experienced, were wedded to the notion of a revival of the +barbaric kingdom. "Their heads were full of the languid dreams of +commentators, the impracticable pedantries of men who live in the +past," (p. 27.) But he gave to the old prophetic promises an +interpretation which they could undeniably bear, but which they did +not immediately suggest; which we can maintain to be true, while we +can deny them to be imperative. He had his own prompt, definite +conception of the restored theocracy; it was his own, and not +another's; it was suited to the new age; it was triumphantly carried +out in the event. + +In what, then, did he consider his royalty to consist? First, what was +it not? It did not consist in the ordinary functions of royalty; it +did not prevent his payment of tribute to Caesar; it did not make him +a judge in questions of criminal or of civil law, in a question of +adultery, or in the adjudication of an inheritance; nor did it give +him the command of armies. Then perhaps, after all, it was but a +figurative royalty, as when the Eridanus is called "fluviorum rex," or +Aristotle "the prince of philosophers." No; it was not a figurative +royalty either. To call one's self a king, without being one, is +playing with edged tools--as in the story of the innkeeper's son, who +was put to death for calling himself "heir to the crown." Christ +certainly knew what he was saying. "He had provoked the accusation of +rebellion against the Roman government: he must have known that the +language he used would be interpreted so. Was there then nothing +substantial in the royalty he claimed? Did he die for a metaphor?" (p. +28.) He meant what he said, and therefore his kingdom was literal and +real; it was visible; but what were its visible prerogatives, if they +were not those in which earthly royalty commonly consists? In truth he +passed by the lesser powers of royalty, to claim the higher. He +claimed certain divine and transcendent functions of the original +theocracy, which had been in abeyance since that theocracy had been +infringed, which even to David had not been delegated, which had never +been exercised except by the Almighty. God had created, first the +people, next the state, which he deigned to govern. "The origin of +other nations is lost in antiquity," (p. 33;) but "this people," runs +the sacred word, "have I formed for myself." And "He who first called +the nation did for it the second work of a king: he gave it a law," +(p. 34) Now it is very striking to observe that these two +incommunicable attributes of divine royalty, as exemplified in the +history of the Israelites, are the very two which our Lord assumed. He +was the maker and the lawgiver of his subjects. He said in the +commencement of his ministry, "_Follow_ me;" and he added, "and I will +make you"--you in turn--"fishers of men." And the next we read of him +is, that his disciples came to him on the Mount, and he opened his +mouth and _taught_ them. And so again, at the end of it, "Go ye, make +_disciples_ of all nations, _teaching_ them." "Thus the very words for +which the [Jewish] nation chiefly hymned their Jehovah, he undertook +in his name to do. He undertook to be the father of an everlasting +state, and the legislator of a world-wide society," (p. 36;) that is, +showing himself, according to the prophetic announcement, to be +"_Admirabilis, consiliarius, pater futuri saeculi, princeps pacis_." + +{625} + +To these two claims he adds a third: first, he chooses the subjects of +his kingdom; next, he gives them a law; but thirdly, he judges +them--judges them in a far truer and fuller sense than in the old +kingdom even the Almighty judged his people. The God of Israel +ordained national rewards and punishments for national obedience or +transgression; he did not judge his subjects one by one; but our Lord +takes upon himself the supreme and final judgment of every one of his +subjects, not to speak of the whole human race (though, from the +nature of the case, this function cannot belong to his visible +kingdom.) "He considered, in short, heaven and hell to be in his +hand," (p, 40.) + +We shall mention one further function of the new King and his new +kingdom: its benefits are even bound up with the maintenance of this +law of political unity. "To organize a society, and to bind the +members of it together by the closest ties, were the business of his +life. For this reason it was that he called men away from their home, +imposed upon some a wandering life, upon others the sacrifice of their +property, and endeavored by all means to divorce them from their +former connections, in order that they might find a new home in the +church. For this reason he instituted a solemn initiation, and for +this reason he refused absolutely to any one a dispensation from it. +For this reason, too . . . he established a common feast, which was +through all ages to remind Christians of their indissoluble union," +(p. 92.) But _cui bono_ is a visible kingdom, when the great end of +our Lord's ministry is moral advancement and preparation for a future +state? It is easy to understand, for instance, how a sermon may +benefit, or personal example, or religious friends, or household +piety. We can learn to imitate a saint or a martyr, we can cherish a +lesson, we can study a treatise, we can obey a rule; but what is the +definite advantage to a preacher or a moralist of an external +organization, of a visible kingdom? Yet Christ says, "Seek ye _first_ +the kingdom of God," as well as "his justice." Socrates wished to +improve men, but he laid no stress on their acting in concert in order +to secure that improvement; on the contrary, the Christian law is +political, as certainly as it is moral. Why is this? It arises out of +the intimate relation between him and his subjects, which, in bringing +them all to him as their common Father, necessarily brings them to +each other. Our Lord says, "Where two or three are gathered together +in my name, I am in the midst of them." Fellowship between his +followers is made a distinct object and duty, because it is a means, +according to the provisions of his system, by which in some special +way they are brought near to him. This is declared, still more +strikingly than in the text we have just quoted, in the parable of the +vine and its branches, and in that (if it is to be called a parable) +of the Bread of Life. The Almighty King of Israel was ever, indeed, +invisibly present in the glory above the Ark, but he did not manifest +himself there or anywhere else as a present cause of spiritual +strength to his people; but the new king is not only ever present, but +to every one of his subjects individually is he a first element and +perennial source of life. He is not only the head of his kingdom, but +also its animating principle and its centre of power. The author whom +we are reviewing does not quite reach the great doctrine here +suggested, but he goes near it in the following passage: "Some men +have appeared who have been as 'levers to uplift the earth and roll it +in another course." Homer by creating literature, Socrates by creating +science, Caesar by carrying civilization inland from the shores of the +Mediterranean, Newton by starting science upon a career of steady +progress, may be said to have attained this eminence. {626} But these +men gave a single impact like that which is conceived to have first +set the planets in motion. Christ claims to be a perpetual attractive +power, like the sun, which determines their orbit. They contributed to +men some discovery, and passed away; Christ's discovery is himself. To +humanity struggling with its passions and its destiny he says, cling +to me--cling ever closer to me. If we believe St. John, he +represented himself as the light of the world, as the shepherd of the +souls of men, as the way to immortality, as the vine or life-tree of +humanity,' (p. 177.) He ends this beautiful passage, of which we have +already quoted as much as our limits allow, by saying that "He +instructed his followers to hope for life from feeding on his body and +blood." + +_O si sic omnia!_ Is it not hard, that, after following with pleasure +a train of thought so calculated to warm all Christian hearts, and to +create in them both admiration and sympathy for the writer, we must +end our notice of him in a different tone, and express as much dissent +from him and as serious blame of him as we have hitherto been showing +satisfaction with his object, his intention, and the general outline +of his argument? But so it is. In what remains to be said we are +obliged to speak of his work in terms so sharp that they may seem to +be out of keeping with what has gone before. With whatever abruptness +in our composition, we must suddenly shift the scene, and manifest our +disapprobation of portions of his book as plainly as we have shown an +interest in it. We have praised it in various points of view. It has +stirred the hearts of many; it has recognized a need, and gone in the +right direction for supplying it. It serves as a token and a hopeful +token, of what is going on in the minds of numbers of men external to +the church. It is substantially a good book, and, we trust, will work +for good. Especially, as we have seen, is it interesting to the +Catholic as acknowledging the visible church as our Lord's own +creation, as the direct fruit of his teaching, and the destined +instrument of his purposes. We do not know how to speak in an +unfriendly tone of an author who has done so much as this; but at the +same time, when we come to examine his argument in its details, and +study his chapters one by one, we find, in spite of, and mixed up with +what is true and original, and even putting aside his patent +theological errors, so much bad logic, so much of rash and gratuitous +assumption, so much of half-digested thought, that we are obliged to +conclude that it would have been much wiser in him if, instead of +publishing what he seems to confess, or rather to proclaim, to be the +jottings of his first researches upon sacred territory, he had waited +till he had carefully traversed and surveyed and mapped the whole of +it. We now proceed to give a few instances of the faults of which we +complain. + +His opening remarks will serve in illustration. In p. 41 he says, "We +have not rested upon _single_ passages, nor drawn from the _fourth +gospel_." This, we suppose, must be his reason for ignoring the +passage in Luke ii. 49, "Did you not know that I must be about my +father's business?" for he directly contradicts it, by gratuitously +imagining that our Lord came for St. John's baptism with the same +intention as the penitents around him; and that, in spite of his own +words, which we suppose are to be taken as another "single passage," +"So it becometh us to fulfil all justice," (Matt. iii. 15.) It must be +on this principle of ignoring single passages such as these, even +though they admit of combination, that he goes on to say of our Lord, +that "in the agitation of mind caused by his baptism, and by the +Baptist's designation of him as the future prophet, he retired into +the wilderness," and there "he matured the plan of action which we see +him executing from the moment of his return into society," (p. 9;) and +that not till then was he "conscious of miraculous power," {627} (p. +12.) This neglect of the sacred text, we repeat must be allowed him, +we suppose, under color of his acting out his rule of abstaining from +single passages and from the fourth gospel. Let us allow it; but at +least he ought to adduce passages, single or many, for what he +actually does assert. He must not be allowed arbitrarily to add to the +history, as well as cautiously to take from it. Where, then, we ask, +did he learn that our Lord's baptism caused him "agitation of mind," +that he "matured his plan of action in the wilderness," and that he +then first was "conscious of miraculous power"? But again: it seems he +is not to refer to "single passages or the fourth gospel;" yet, +wonderful to say, he actually does open his formal discussion of the +sacred history by referring to a passage from that very gospel--nay, +to a particular text, which is only not a "single" text, because it is +half a text, and half a text, such that, had he taken the whole of it, +he would have been obliged to admit that the part which he puts aside +just runs counter to his interpretation of the part, which he insists +on. The words are these, as they stand in the Protestant version: +"Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." Now, +it is impossible to deny that "which taketh away," etc., fixes and +limits the sense of "the Lamb of God;" but our author notices the +latter half of the sentence, only in order to put aside the light it +throws upon the former half; and instead of the Baptist's own +interpretation of the title which he gives to our Lord, he substitutes +another, radically different, which he selects for himself out of one +of the psalms. He explains "the lamb" by the well-known image, which +represents the Almighty as a shepherd and his earthly servants as +sheep--innocent, safe, and happy under his protection. "The Baptist's +opinion of Christ's character, then," he says, "is summed up for us in +the title he gives him--the Lamb of God, taking away the sins of the +world. There _seems_ to be, in the last part of this description, an +allusion to the usages of the Jewish sacrificial system; and, in order +to explain it fully, it would be necessary to anticipate much which +will come more conveniently later in this treatise. _But_ when we +remember that the Baptist's mind was _doubtless_ full of imagery drawn +from the Old Testament, and that the conception of a lamb of God makes +the subject of one of the most striking of the psalms, _we shall +perceive what he meant to convey, by this phrase,_" (pp. 5, 6.) This +is like saying, "Isaiah declares, 'mine eyes have seen the king, the +lord of hosts;' _but_, considering that doubtless the prophet was well +acquainted with the first and second books of Samuel, and that Saul, +David, and Solomon are the three great kings there represented, we +shall easily perceive that by 'seeing the king,' he meant to say that +he saw Uzziah, king of Judah, in the last year of whose reign he had +the vision. As to the phrase 'the lord of hosts,' which seems to refer +to the Almighty, we will consider its meaning by and by:"--but, in +truth, it is difficult to invent a paralogism, in its gratuitous +inconsecutiveness parallel to his own. + +We must own, that, with every wish to be fair to this author, we never +recovered from the perplexity of mind which this passage, in the very +threshold of his book, inflicted on us. It needed not the various +passages which follow it in the work, constructed on the same +argumentative model, to prove to us that he was not only an +_incognito_, but an enigma. "Ergo" is the symbol of the logician--what +science does a writer profess, whose symbols, profusely scattered +through his pages, are "probably," "it must be," "doubtless," "on the +hypothesis," "we may suppose," and "it is natural to think," and that +at the very time that he pointedly discards the comments of school +theologians? Is it possible that he can mean us to set aside the +glosses of all who went {628} before in his own favor, and to exchange +our old lamps for his new ones? Men have been at fault, when trying to +determine whether he was an orthodox believer on his road to +liberalism, or a liberal on his road to orthodoxy: this doubtless may +be to some a perplexity; but our own difficulty is, whether he comes +to us as an investigator or a prophet, as one unequal or superior to +the art of reasoning. Undoubtedly, he is an able man; but what can he +possibly mean by startling us with such eccentricities of +argumentation as are familiar with him? Addison somewhere bids his +readers bear in mind, that if he is ever especially dull, he always +has a special reason for being so; and it is difficult to reconcile +one's imagination to the supposition that this anonymous writer, with +so much deep thought as he certainly evidences, has not some recondite +reason for seeming so inconsequent, and does not move by some deep +subterraneous processes of argument, which, if once brought to light, +would clear him of the imputation of castle-building. + +There is always a danger of misconceiving an author who has no +antecedents by which we may measure him. Taking his work as it lies, +we can but wish that he had kept his imagination under control; and +that he had more of the hard head of a lawyer and the patience of a +philosopher. He writes like a man who cannot keep from telling the +world his first thoughts, especially if they are clever or graceful; +he has come for the first time upon a strange world, and his remarks +upon it are too obvious to be called original, and too crude to +deserve the name of freshness. What can be more paradoxical than to +interpret our Lord's words to Nicodemus, "Unless a man be born again," +and of the necessity of external religion, as a lesson to him to +profess his faith openly and not to visit him in secret? (p. 86.) What +can be more pretentious, not to say gaudy and even tawdry, than his +paraphrase of St. John's passage about the woman taken in adultery? +"In his burning embarrassment and confusion," he says, "he stooped +down so as to hide his face. . . . They had a glimpse perhaps of the +glowing blush upon his face, etc." (p. 104.) + +We should be very sorry to use a severe word concerning an honest +inquirer after truth, as we believe this anonymous writer to be; and +we will confess that Catholics, kindly as they may wish to feel toward +him, are scarcely even able, from their very position, to give his +work the enthusiastic reception which it has received from some other +critics. The reason is plain; those alone can speak of it from a full +heart, who feel a need, and recognize in it a supply of that need. We +are not in the number of such; for they who have found have no need to +seek. Far be it from us to use language savoring of the leaven of the +Pharisees. We are not assuming a high place, because we thus speak, or +boasting of our security. Catholics are both deeper and shallower than +Protestants; but in neither case have they any call for a treatise +such as this "Ecce Homo." If they live to the world and the flesh, +then the faith which they profess, though it is true and distinct, is +dead; and their certainty about religious truth, however firm and +unclouded, is but shallow in its character, and flippant in its +manifestations. And in proportion, as they are worldly and sensual +will they be flippant and shallow. But their faith is as indelible as +the pigment which colors the skin, even though it is skin-deep. This +class of Catholics is not likely to take interest in a pictorial "Ecce +Homo." On the other hand, where the heart is alive with divine love, +faith is as deep as it is vigorous and joyous; and, as far as +Catholics are in this condition, they will feel no drawing toward a +work which is after all but an arbitrary and unsatisfactory dissection +of the object of their devotion. That individuals in their body maybe +{629} harassed with doubts, particularly in a day like this, we are +not denying; but, viewed as a body, Catholics from their religious +condition, are either too deep or too shallow to suffer from those +elementary difficulties, or that distress of mind, in which serious +Protestants are so often involved. + +We confess, then, as Catholics, to some unavoidable absence of cordial +feeling in following the remarks of this author, though not to any +want of real sympathy; and we seem to be justified in our +indisposition by his manifest want of sympathy with us. If we feel +distant toward him, his own language about Catholicity, and (what may +be called) old Christianity, seems to show that that distance is one +of fact, one of mental position, not any fault in ourselves. Is it not +undeniable, that the very life of personal religion among Catholics +lies in a knowledge of the Gospels? It is the character and conduct of +our Lord, his words, his deeds, his sufferings, his work, which are +the very food of our devotion and rule of our life. "Behold the Man," +which this author feels to be an object novel enough to write a book +about, has been the contemplation of Catholics from that first age +when St. Paul said, "The life that I now live in the flesh, I live in +the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and delivered himself for +me." As the Psalms have ever been the manual of our prayer, so have +the Gospels been the subject-matter of our meditation. In these latter +times especially, since St. Ignatius, they have been divided into +portions, and arranged in a scientific order, not unlike that which +the Psalms have received in the Breviary. To contemplate our Lord in +his person and his history is with us the exercise of every retreat, +and the devotion of every morning. All this is certainly simple matter +of fact; but the writer we are reviewing lives and thinks at so great +distance from us as not to be cognizant of what is so patent and so +notorious a truth. He seems to imagine that the faith of a Catholic is +the mere profession of a formula. He deems it important to disclaim in +the outset of his work all reference to the theology of the church. He +eschews with much preciseness, as something almost profane, the +dogmatism of former ages. He wishes "to trace" our Lord's "biography +from point to point, and accept those conclusions--not which church +doctors or even Apostles have sealed with their authority--but which +the facts themselves, critically weighed, appear to warrant." +(Preface.) Now, what Catholics, what church doctors, as well as +Apostles, have ever lived on, is not any number of theological canons +or decrees, but we repeat, the Christ himself, as he is represented in +concrete existence in the Gospels. Theological determinations about +our Lord are far more of the nature of landmarks or buoys to guide a +discursive mind in its reasonings, than to assist a devotional mind in +its worship. Common-sense, for instance, tell us what is meant by the +words, "My Lord and my God;" and a religious man, upon his knees, +requires no commentator; but against irreligious speculators, Arius or +Nestorius, a denunciation has been passed in ecumenical council, when +"science falsely so-called" encroached upon devotion. Has not this +been insisted on by all dogmatic Christians over and over again? Is it +not a representation as absolutely true as it is trite? We had fancied +that Protestants generally allowed the touching beauty of Catholic +hymns and meditations; and after all is there not that in all Catholic +churches which goes beyond any written devotion, whatever its force or +its pathos? Do we not believe in a presence in the sacred tabernacle, +not as a form of words, or as a notion, but as an object as real as we +are real? And if in that presence we need neither profession of faith +nor even manual of devotion, what appetite can we have for the +teaching of a writer who not only exalts his first thoughts about our +{630} Lord into professional lectures, but implies that the Catholic +Church has never known how to point him out to her children? + +It may be objected, that we are making too much of so chance a slight +as his allusion in his preface to "church doctors" involves, +especially as he mentions apostles in connection with them; but it +would be affectation not to recognize in other places of his book an +undercurrent of antagonism to us, of which the passage already quoted +is but a first indication. Of course he has quite as much right as +another to take up an anti-catholic position, if he will; but we +understand him to be putting forth an investigation, not a polemical +argument and if, instead of keeping his eyes directed to his own +proper subject, he looks to the right or left to hit at those who view +it differently from himself, he is damaging the ethical force of a +composition which claims to be, and mainly is, a serious and manly +search after religious truth. Why cannot he let us alone? Of course he +cannot avoid seeing that the lines of his own investigation diverge +from those drawn by others, but he will have enough to do in defending +himself, without making others the object of his attack. He is +virtually opposing Voltaire, Strauss, Renan, Calvin, Wesley, Chalmers, +Erskine, and a host of other writers, but he does not denounce them; +why then does he single out, misrepresent, and anathematize a main +principle of orthodoxy? It is as if he could not keep his hand off us, +when we crossed his path. We are alluding to the following magisterial +passage: + + "If he (our Lord) meant anything by his constant denunciation of + hypocrites, there is nothing which he would have visited with + sterner censure than that _short cut to belief_ which many persons + take, when, overwhelmed with the difficulties which beset their + minds, and afraid of damnation, they _suddenly_ resolve to strive no + longer, but, giving their minds a holiday, to rest content with + _saying_ that they believe, and acting as if they did. A melancholy + end of Christianity indeed! Can there be such a disfranchised pauper + class among the citizens of the New Jerusalem?" (p. 79.) + +He adds shortly afterward: + + "Assuredly, those who represent Christ as presenting to man an + abstruse theology, and saying to them peremptorily, 'believe or be + damned,' have the coarsest conception of the Saviour of the world," + (p. 80.) + +Thus he delivers himself; "Believe or be damned is so detestable a +doctrine, that if any man denies it is detestable, I pronounce him to +be a hypocrite; to be without any true knowledge of the Saviour of the +world; to be the object of his sternest censure; and to have no part +or place in the holy city, the New Jerusalem, the eternal heaven +above." Pretty well for a virtuous hater of dogmatism! We hope we +shall show less dictatorial arrogance than his, in the answer which we +intend to make to him. + +Whether there are persons such as he describes, Catholic or +Protestants, converts to Catholicism or not--men who profess a faith +which they do not believe, under the notion that they shall be +eternally damned if they do not profess it without believing--we +really do not know--we never met with such; but since facts do not +concern us here so much as principles, let us, for argument's sake, +grant that there are. Our author believes they are not only "many," +but enough to form a "class;" and he considers that they act in this +preposterous manner under the sanction, and in accordance with the +teaching, of the religious bodies to which they belong. Especially +there is a marked allusion in his words to the Athanasian creed and +the Catholic Church. Now we answer him thus: + +Part of his charge against the teachers of dogma is, that they impose +on men as a duty, instead of believing, to "act as if they did" +believe; now in fact this is the very {631} kind of profession which, +if it is all that a candidate has to offer, absolutely shuts him out +from admission into Catholic communion. We suppose, that by belief of +a thing, this writer understands an inward conviction of its truth; +this being supposed, we plainly say that no priest is at liberty to +receive a man into the church, who has not a real internal belief, and +cannot say from his heart, that the things taught by the church are +true. On the other hand, as we have said above, it is the very +characteristic of the profession of faith made by numbers of educated +Protestants, and it is the utmost extent to which they are able to go +in believing, to hold, not that Christian doctrine is certainly true, +but that it has such a semblance of truth, it has such considerable +marks of probability upon it, that it is their duty to accept and to +act upon it as if it were true beyond all question or doubt: and they +justify themselves, and with much reason, by the authority of Bishop +Butler. Undoubtedly, a religious man will be led to go as far as this, +if he cannot go further; but unless he can go farther, he is no +catechumen of the Catholic Church. We wish all men to believe that her +creed is true; but till they do so believe, we do not wish, we have no +permission, to make them her members. Such a faith as this author +speaks of to condemn--(our books call it "_practical_ certainty")-- +does not rise to the level of the _sine quâ non_, which is the +condition prescribed for becoming a Catholic. Unless a convert so +believes that he can sincerely say, "after all, in spite of all +difficulties, objections, obscurities, mysteries, the creed of the +Church undoubtedly comes from God, and is true, because he is the +truth," such a man, though he be outwardly received into her fold, +will receive no grace from the sacraments, no sanctification in +baptism, no pardon in penance, no life in communion. We are more +consistently dogmatic than this author imagines; we do not enforce a +principle by halves; if our doctrine is true, it must be received as +such; if a man cannot so receive it, he must wait till he can. It +would be better, indeed, if he now believed; but, since he does not as +yet, to wait is the best he can do under the circumstances. If we said +anything else than this, certainly we should be, as the author thinks +we are, encouraging hypocrisy. Nor let him turn round on us and say +that by thus proceeding we are laying a burden on souls, and blocking +up the entrance into that fold which was intended for all men, by +imposing hard conditions on candidates for admission; for we have +already implied a great principle, which is an answer to this +objection, which the gospels exhibit and sanction, but which he +absolutely ignores. + +Let us avail ourselves of his quotation. The Baptist said, "Behold the +Lamb of God." Again he says, "This is the Son of God." "Two of his +disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus." They believed +John to be "a man sent from God" to teach them, and therefore they +believed his word to be true. We suppose it was not hypocrisy in them +to believe in his word; rather they would have been guilty of gross +inconsistency or hypocrisy, had they professed to believe that he was +a divine messenger and yet had refused to take his word concerning the +Stranger whom he pointed out to their veneration. It would have been +"saying that they believed," and _not_ "acting as if they did;" which +at least is not better than saying and acting. Now, was not the +announcement which John made to them "a short cut to belief"? and what +the harm of it? They believed that our Lord was the promised prophet, +without making direct inquiry about him, without a new inquiry, on the +ground of a previous inquiry into the claims of John himself to be +accounted a messenger from God. They had already accepted it as truth +that John was a prophet; but again, what a prophet said must be true; +{632} else he would not be a prophet; now, John said that our Lord was +the Lamb of God; this, then, certainly was a sacred truth. + +Now it might happen, that they knew exactly and for certain what the +Baptist meant in calling our Lord "a Iamb;" in that case they would +believe him to be that which they knew the figurative word meant, as +used by the Baptist. But, as our author reminds us, the word has +different senses; and, though the Baptist explained his own sense of +it on the first occasion of using it, by adding, "that taketh away the +sin of the world," yet when he spoke to the two disciples he did not +thus explain it. Now let us suppose that they went off, taking the +word each in his own sense, the one understanding by it a sacrificial +lamb, the other a lamb of the fold; and let us suppose that, as they +were on the way to our Lord's home, they discovered this difference in +their several interpretations, and disputed with each other which was +the right interpretation. It is clear that they would agree so far as +this, namely, that, in saying that the proposition was true, they +meant that it was true in that sense in which the Baptist spoke it; +moreover, if it be worth noticing, they did after all even agree, in +some vague way, about the meaning of the word, understanding that it +denoted some high character, or office, or ministry. Any how, it was +absolutely true, they would say, that our Lord was a lamb, whatever it +meant; the word conveyed a great and momentous fact, and if they did +not know what that fact was, the Baptist did, and they would accept it +in its one right sense, as soon as he or our Lord told them what it +was. + +Again, as to that other title which the Baptist gave our Lord, "the +Son of God," it admitted of half a dozen senses. Wisdom was "the only +begotten;" the angels were the sons of God; Adam was a son of God; the +descendants of Seth were sons of God; Solomon was a son of God; and so +is "the just man." In which of these senses, or in what sense, was our +Lord the Son of God? St. Peter knew, but there were those who did not +know--the centurion who attended the crucifixion did not know, and +yet he confessed that our Lord was the Son of God. He knew that our +Lord had been condemned by the Jews for calling himself the Son of +God, and therefore he cried out, on seeing the miracles which attended +his death, "indeed this _was_ the Son of God." His words evidently +imply: "I do not know precisely what he meant by so calling himself; +but what he said he was, that he is; whatever he meant, I believe him; +I believe that his word about himself is true, though I cannot prove +it to be so, though I do not even understand it; I believe his word, +for I believe _him_." + +Now to return to the passage which has led to these remarks. Our +author says that certain persons are hypocrites, because they "take a +short cut to belief, suddenly resolving to strive no longer, but to +rest content with saying they believe." Does he mean by "a short cut," +believing on the word of another? As far as our experience goes of +religious changes in individuals, he can mean nothing else; yet how +_can_ he mean this with the gospels before him? He cannot mean it, +because the very staple of the sacred narrative is a call on all men +to believe what is not proved to them, merely on the warrant of divine +messengers; because the very form of our Lord's teaching is to +substitute authority for inquiry; because the very principle of his +grave earnestness, the very key to his regenerative mission, is the +intimate connection of faith with salvation. Faith is not simply trust +in his legislation, as this writer says; it is definitely trust in his +word, whether that word be about heavenly things or earthly; whether +it is spoken by his own mouth, or through his ministers. The angel who +announced the Baptist's birth said, "Thou shalt be dumb because thou +believest not my words." The {633} Baptist's mother said of Mary, +"Blessed is she that believed." The Baptist himself said, "He that +believeth on the Son hath everlasting life; and he that believeth not +the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." Our +Lord, in turn, said to Nicodemus, "We speak that we do know, and ye +receive not our witness; he that believeth not is condemned already, +because he hath not believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of +God." To the Jews, "He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that +sent me, shall not come into condemnation." To the Capharnaites, "he +that believeth on me hath everlasting life." To St Thomas, "Blessed +are they that have not seen and yet have believed." And to the +apostles, "Preach the gospel to every creature; he that believeth not +shall be damned." How is it possible to deny that our Lord, both in +the text and in the context of these and other passages, made faith in +a message, on the warrant of the messenger, to be a condition of +salvation; and enforced it by the great grant of power which he +emphatically conferred on his representatives? "Whosoever shall not +receive you," he says, "nor hear your words, when ye depart, shake off +the dust of your feet." "It is not ye that speak, but the spirit of +your Father." "He that heareth you, heareth me; he that despiseth you, +despiseth me; and he that despiseth me, despiseth him that sent me." +"I pray for them that shall believe on me through their word." "Whose +sins ye remit they are remitted unto them; and whose sins ye retain, +they are retained." "Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound +in heaven." "I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven; +and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and +whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." These +characteristic and critical announcements have no place in this +author's gospel; and let it be understood, that we are not asking why +he does not determine the exact doctrines contained in them--for that +is a question which he has reserved (if we understand him) for a +future volume--but why he does not recognize the principle they +involve--for that is a matter which falls within his present subject. + +It is not well to exhibit some sides of Christianity, and not others; +this we think is the main fault of the author we have been reviewing. +It does not pay to be ecclectic in so serious a matter of fact. He +does not overlook, he boldly confesses that a visible organized church +was a main part of our Lord's plan for the regeneration of mankind. +"As with Socrates," he says, "argument is every thing, and personal +authority nothing; so with Christ personal authority is all in all and +argument altogether unemployed," (p. 94.) Our Lord rested his +teaching, not on the concurrence and testimony of his hearers, but on +his own authority. He imposed upon them the declarations of a divine +voice. Why does this author stop short in the delineation of +principles which he has so admirably begun? Why does he denounce +"short cuts," as a mental disfranchisement, when no cut can be shorter +than to "believe and be saved"? Why does he denounce religious fear as +hypocritical, when it is written, "He that believeth not shall be +damned"? Why does he call it dishonest in a man to sacrifice his own +judgment to the word of God, when, unless he did so, he would be +avowing that the Creator knew less than the creature? Let him +recollect that no two thinkers, philosophers, writers, ever did, ever +will, agree in all things with each other. No system of opinions, ever +given to the world, approved itself in all its parts to the reason of +any one individual by whom it was mastered. No revelation is +conceivable, but involves, almost in its very idea, as being something +new, a collision with the human intellect, and demands, accordingly, +if it is to be accepted, a sacrifice of private judgment. {634} If a +revelation be necessary, then also in consequence is that sacrifice +necessary. One man will have to make a sacrifice in one respect, +another in another, all men in some. We say, then, to men of the day, +take Christianity, or leave it; do not practise upon it; to do so is +as unphilosophical as it is dangerous. Do not attempt to halve a +spiritual unit. You are apt to call it a dishonesty in us to refuse to +follow out our reasonings, when faith stands in the way; is there no +intellectual dishonesty in your own conduct? First, your very +accusation of us is dishonest; for you keep in the back-ground the +circumstance, of which you are well aware, that such a refusal on our +part is the necessary consequence of our accepting an authoritative +revelation; and next you profess to accept that revelation yourselves, +while you dishonestly pick and choose, and take as much or as little +of it as you please. You either accept Christianity or you do not: if +you do, do not garble and patch it; if you do not, suffer others to +submit to it as a whole. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +HOLY SATURDAY. + + + Through that Jewish Sabbath day, + Through our Holy Saturday, + Thus he lay: + In his linen winding-sheet, + Wrapped in myrrh and spices sweet, + Angels at his head and feet; + Angels, duteous alway, + Watched the wondrous beauteous clay + As he lay. + Through that Jewish Sabbath day, + Through our Holy Saturday. + + Thus he lay + And our mother Church this day + Doth with solemn Office keep + That strange day's mysterious sleep; + Her "Exultet" breaks the sadness + With triumphant strains of gladness; + Paschal hope presaging morn, + As in east just streaks the dawn; + Darkest night ere brightest day; + Such is Holy Saturday. + +------ + +{635} + + +Translated from the Études Religieuses, +Historiques et Littéraires. + +EAST-INDIAN WEDDINGS. + +LETTER FROM FATHER GUCHEN OF THE MADURA MISSION. + + +A very days ago I blessed a marriage in which great pomp was +displayed, and I will describe the festival to you, that you may have +an idea of what takes place on such occasions, for the same ceremonial +is always scrupulously observed. Indeed, every action of an Indian's +life from the cradle to the grave is irrevocably ordered by custom. + +The solemnity I am speaking of now is called here, "a grand marriage." +My Christians are generally too poor to have to do with any but +"little marriages," which are performed very quietly, though with some +attendant circumstances that perhaps deserve a slight notice. + +A remarkable peculiarity, and one that belongs to both kinds of +marriage, is that the bride and bridegroom do not know each other, do +not even see or speak to each other, until it is too late to draw +back. This is the decision of custom, and has its good and bad side, +like many other things in this world. "Why have you come here?" I +asked the other day of a little girl hardly twelve years old, who was +led into church. "My father said I was to be married, so I came," she +replied. A few hours later arrived the young man, pale, exhausted, and +writhing in the grasp of pangs unutterable. Begging me to serve him +first in the quality of physician, he told me his story: "I had just +done dinner and was going out to my palm-trees, when my father told me +to go to the church, and be married; so I took my bath of oil +immediately, which interfered with my digestion and caused my +illness." + +The bath of oil is a necessary preliminary on these occasions. That +over, the bridegroom arrays himself in his finest garments. Two +cloths, about one foot three inches wide, and four or five times as +long, ornamented with a fringe, compose his costume; one covers his +loins and the other is wrapped around him; a red kerchief is rolled +about his head, and three pendants, nearly two inches long, and wide +in proportion, adorn each ear. If he is too poor to own these jewels, +he borrows them of his neighbors, and thus apparelled, goes to the +church and presents himself before the sonami, (missionary.) + +The maiden also lavishes oil or butter upon her toilette, but on the +wedding day, she is so completely swathed in the ten or eleven yards +of cloth that form her raiment, that neither her jewels nor her face +can be distinguished. Not only is she invisible, but she is supposed +to see nothing herself, and when she wishes to change her place, the +person who accompanies her, often a poor old woman hardly able to +stand leads her by clasping her round the waist. I have sometimes +beheld the singular spectacle of a score of little girls from twelve +to fifteen years of age, muffled in cloth and crouched against the +wall of the church, repeating their prayers to satiety as they waited +for me to come and hear them recite. + +They pass their examination; both bride and bridegroom know +faultlessly the pater, ave, credo, the commandments of God and the +church, the act of contrition, the confiteor, etc.; they {636} recite +the seven chapters, that is to say the little catechism, quite well; I +hear their confessions, and the next morning at mass I bless their +union, following in every respect the rubrics of the church, so that +there is nothing especial to notice excepting that the married pair +have no wedding-ring. In its place they have a golden jewel, rather +clumsy in form, through which passes a cord intended to be fastened +round the bride's neck. This jewel is called _tali_. It is the sign of +matrimonial union, and every married woman wears one; when her husband +dies, the relations assemble, and remove the _tali_ from the widow's +neck by breaking the cord. + +But pardon me for carrying you without transition from a wedding to a +funeral--let us leave the graveyard and return to the church. Having +blessed the _tali_, applying to it the prayer indicated in the ritual +for the blessing of the ring, I return it to the young man who +presents it to the maiden; she receives it on her out-stretched hands, +and her companion, or if the latter is too old, any other woman +present, fastens it about her neck. Mass is celebrated; the bride and +bridegroom receive communion and the benediction, and then withdraw. +The bride remains hooded through the whole of the festive day; on the +next day after she shows her face, and the husband can for the first +time behold her features: a young man of my acquaintance learned +twenty-four hours after marriage, that his wife had but one eye. + +I forgot to mention another custom, which is quite generally observed, +and seems to me charming. The bridegroom buys a _nuptial cloth_, which +is blessed by the priest at the same time with the _tali_, and in this +the bride arrays herself, when the marriage ceremonial is ended. She +wears this cloth during the days of festivity, but the husband gives +her no other garments, and the parents continue to furnish their +daughter's wardrobe until she brings her first child into the world. + +But it is time I arrived at the ceremonies of the _grand marriage_ +that I blessed on the eleventh of this month. + +The young man belonged to Anacarei, and the maiden to Santancoulam, a +little town where we have a Christian settlement. As she had been +baptized only two years before, she still numbered many pagans among +her circle, a fact which made me willingly accede to the desire of her +parents that the marriage should be celebrated in the presence of her +family. + +Even before dawn, two bands of musicians, making their instruments +resound in noble emulation of each other, announced to the whole town +that on that day there was to be a grand festival in the Catholic +Church. On their side, with one accord, the Christians devoted +themselves to the preparation of the church and altar; the only outlay +in decoration was upon flowers, but of those there were enough to load +a coach. At last all was ready, and wearing the alb and stole, I went +forward to receive the consent of the betrothed, who were accompanied +by their relations and friends. They joined their right hands, and I +pronounced over them the sacramental words, after which the _tali_ was +blessed and given first to the bridegroom and by turn to the bride, +but without being fastened about her neck, as that ceremony was to +take place afterward at home. I began mass. In the lectern, two +chanters were shaking the walls of the church with a clamor most +delightful to Indian ears, for singing is valued here in proportion to +the volume of voice brought to bear upon it. Indeed never before at +Santancoulam had anything so admirable been heard. + +After mass the husband and wife withdrew in different directions, and +the whole day was spent in festive preparations. In the house of the +young girl a great tent was built of the branches and leaves of trees, +draped with cloth of various colors. In the middle of this tent, which +is called the _Pandel_, upon a mound a {637} foot and a half in +height, and about eight square feet in extent, arose an elegantly +decorated pavilion supported on four little columns. It was truly an +exhibition of painted cloth and parti-colored paper of every hue and +every shade, surpassing the rainbow in brilliancy. There, upon this +mound and under this pavillion, the bridegroom was to give the _tali_ +to his bride. + +In the mean time a palanquin had been constructed elsewhere, even more +elegant and magnificent than the pavilion of the _Pandel_. At ten +o'clock in the evening, by the light of thirty or forty blazing +torches, the bridegroom entered the palanquin, and, borne upon the +shoulders of four men, made the tour of the town, a band of music +opening the way and summoning the curious who hastened at the call. +After promenading the principal streets with slow steps for two or +three hours, they turned toward the bride's home. The young man +ascended the mound and seated himself, upon the ground, you +understand, for among Indians there are neither chairs nor lounges. +But do not be afraid that he soiled his fine clothes--a litter of +straw covered the whole surface of the mound. In this country they +know no better way of making an apartment presentable, and all Indian +_parquets_ are polished after this fashion. The bride came in her +turn, her father leading her by the hand. When he had seated her face +to face with the young man who had been his son-in-law for twenty-four +hours, he declared in a loud, clear voice that he had given his +daughter in marriage to so and so, living in such and such a place, +that he announced it to her relations and friends, begging them to +give their consent. The assistants standing about the mound extended +their hands in succession, and touched the _tali_ with the tips of the +fingers in token of approval. The catechist intoned the litany of the +Blessed Virgin, to which the Christians made the responses, then he +gave the _tali_ to the husband, who held it near his wife's neck, and +the bride's sister-in-law, standing behind her, took the cord and tied +it. The ceremonies and festivities were ended for that night, and +every one withdrew to take a little repose. + +The next evening there was a grand wedding collation, after which the +festival, properly speaking, the grand festival, began. The newly +married pair seated themselves in the palanquin, facing each other, +but separated by a little curtain. The bride, freed from her veil now, +held the curtain with both hands, trying to conceal her face with it. +By the light of torches even more numerous than the night before, and +to the sound of music quite as vociferous, they went to the church, +where all the candles were lighted. The chanters and myself intoned +the litany of the Blessed Virgin and the _salve regina_; the catechist +recited a few prayers. I gave the benediction to the assembly with a +crucifix, having no statue of the Blessed Virgin, and the ceremony +closed with a _tamoul_ chant. The husband and wife re-entered the +palanquin, and then began in the streets a veritable triumphal march +called here _patana-pravesam_ (entrance into the town,) which ended +only when the day began. + +What lends to this march a character of beauty and originality is the +_calliel_, a dance accompanied by songs and the clashing of little +staves, and performed before the palanquin for the whole length of the +march. Do not imagine anything resembling a French ball; here dancing, +so called, is a disgrace, and is only permitted to the Bayadères +engaged in the service of the pagodas. The _calliel_ is quite another +thing. Fancy a dozen well-formed, robust young people, with turbaned +heads, and loins girt with a long strip of cloth draped like a scarf, +some of them wearing rings of bells upon their arms and legs, and all +carrying in each hand a little staff about a foot long, with which +they strike the staves of the dancers, whom they meet face to face. On +leaving the church, our young dancers begged me to {638} witness their +gambols in the presence of the bride and bridegroom, who were looking +down upon the assembly from their high palanquin. The clashing cadence +of the staves, the monotonous but purely harmonious chant of the +dancers, their free, elastic bounds and graceful twirls, the passing +and repassing of this troop, who spring forward and draw back, falling +and rising as they drop on their knees and rear themselves up again, +this whirlwind where all is ordered, timed, and measured---all +presents a spectacle that enchants Hindoos and may well delight a +Frenchman. + +Meanwhile the big drum, tambourine, tam-tam, clarionet, bagpipe, etc, +etc., announced with joyous din that the crowd must turn their steps +elsewhere, and show to others all this paraphernalia of rejoicing. The +palanquin was borne toward the streets. From time to time the march +was suspended, the music ceased, and the young dancers resumed and +continued for nearly an hour their agile feats of strength. + +So the night passed, and the first rays of the sun announced that it +was time to end it all. The husband and wife descended from the +palanquin to hear mass, and then entered upon real life; the wedding +was over. In the evening a car drawn by two magnificent oxen, +transported the bride, accompanied by several relatives, to the +village of her husband, who escorted the family, mounted upon a pretty +white horse. + +AMACAREI, Sept 29th, 1865. + +------ + +From the Dublin Review + + +ROME THE CIVILIZER OF NATIONS. + + +1. _Le Parfum de Rome_. Par Louis Veuillot. 3me edition. Paris: Gaume +Frères. 1862. + +2. _Rome et la Civilisation_. Par EUGENE MAHON DE MONAGHAN. Paris: +Charles Douniol. 1863. + +The useful little work which stands at the head of this article, by M. +Mahon de Monaghan, (whose name would, perhaps, be more correctly +printed M. MacMahon de Monaghan,) may be regarded as a supplement to +the more important volume of the Abbé Balmez. "The study of church +history in its relations with civilization," _he_ told us, "is still +incomplete;" and the writer before us seems to have taken this as a +hint, and to have conceived the laudable plan of pursuing further some +of the Spanish divine's arguments, and strengthening them by new +illustrations gathered from history. "Le Parfum de Rome" is a work of +another description, but bearing on the same subject. It consists of +many discursive reflections on Rome, as the residence of the Vicar of +Christ, and is full of point, brilliancy, and humor. + +When a Catholic, who has enjoyed the advantage of a good education, +and is accustomed to habits of reflection, arrives for the first time +in Rome, he is usually overwhelmed by the multitude of objects offered +to his attention, and requires time to select, arrange, and analyze +them. The light is too vivid, the colors are too varied, the perfume +is too strong. Two thousand years, richly laden with historic events, +crowd his memory; the united {639} glories of the past and the present +kindle his imagination; the sublime mysteries of religion, +marvellously localized, exercise his faith; long galleries thronged +with the rarest productions of art court his gaze, and a presence +peculiar to the spot, which he feeds, but cannot yet define, completes +his pleading bewilderment in heart and brain. By degrees the tumult of +thought subsides, and order begins to rise out of chaotic beauty. The +traveller is resolved to render his sensations precise, and he asks +himself emphatically, "Whence springs the resistless charm of Rome? +Wherein does the true glory of Rome consist? What _is_ this nameless +presence that mantles all things with divinity? Where does the +Shekinah reside?" + +Then more and more clearly, the voice of Rome herself is heard in +reply: "This is the home of the vicar of Christ, the throne of the +fisherman, the seat of that long line of pontiffs who, like a chain of +gold, bind our erring globe to Emmanuel's footstool. This garden is +fertilized by the blood of Peter and Paul, and of thirty Popes: hence +all its amazing produce; hence its exquisite fragrance and perennial +bloom. These are the head-quarters of the commander-in-chief of the +church militant; and Christ himself is present here in the person of +his viceroy, promulgating a law above all human laws, inflexible, +uniform, merciful, and strict. _He_ diffuses this grateful perfume; +_he_ colors every object with rainbow tints; _he_ sheds this dazzling +light which causes Rome to shine like a gem with a myriad facets. The +Lord loveth the gates of Rome more than of old he loved the gates of +Zion; he lives in the solemn utterances of his high priest, and speaks +by him as of old he spoke by the Urim and Thummim that sparkled on +Aaron's breast. Here he so multiplies sacraments, that all you see +becomes sacramental; and here you find, in the father of the faithful, +the most perfect representation of your Incarnate God, and the most +certain pledge of his resurrection." + +If the peculiar presence of Christ thus hallows Christian Rome, it +cannot be matter of surprise that she also should be an enigma to the +world, and have a twofold character; that she should be one thing to +the eye and another to the mind; one thing to Gibbon and Goethe, +[Footnote 132] and another thing altogether to Chateaubriand and +Schlegel; that she should have her seasons of gloom and jubilee, of +persecution and triumph; should require in each to be interpreted by +faith; and that every page of her history should share in this double +aspect. Thus Rome resembles Christ; and in this resemblance lies her +glory and her strength. Other glories she has which do not directly +come from him. She had them of old before he came; the inroad of +barbaric hordes, age after age, could not trample them out, and they +endure abundantly to this day. These the world understands; these she +extols with ceaseless praises, and sends her children from every clime +in troops to do homage at their ancient shrines. The worldling, +enamoured of these, exclaims: + + "O Rome! my country! city of the soul! + The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, + Lone mother of dead empires." [Footnote 133] + + [Footnote 132: Parfum de Rome, p. 7] + + [Footnote 133: Childe Harold, canto iv.] + +But the orphan who turns to her as Byron did, remains an orphan. Rome +is no mother to him, and he finds no father in the patriarch who rules +there. To the devout Catholic she is the mother of arts and sciences +as truly as the Pope is the father of the Christian family. She is, +and has been for eighteen hundred years, the centre of true +civilization, because she is the central depository of the faith. From +her, as from a fountain, the streams of salvation have flowed through +all lands, and, having the promise both of this life and that which is +to come, they have indirectly produced a large amount of material +well-being, and also an infinity of {640} artistic and scientific +results. Rome civilizes as Christ civilized, by sowing the seeds of +civilization. She does not aim directly at material well-being; she +does not any more than he teach astronomy or dynamics; she propounds +no system of induction; she invents neither printing-press, +steam-engines, nor telegraphs; but she so raises man above the brute, +curbs his passions, improves his understanding, instils into him +principles of duty, and a sense of responsibility, so hallows his +ambition and kindles his desire for the good of his kind and the +progress of humanity, that under her influence he acquires insensibly +an aptitude even for the successful pursuit of physical science, such +as no other teacher could impart. He looks abroad into the spacious +field of nature, and finds in every star and in every drop of dew an +unfathomable depth of creative design. His heart quickens the energies +of his brain, and he says, smiling, "My Father made them all; he made +them that I may, to the best of my feeble powers, investigate and +classify them, and that he may be glorified in science as in +religion." He rises to higher studies than those of physical science; +he looks within, and analyzes his complex nature. He sees that human +minds in the aggregate are capable of indefinite development as time +goes on, and he concludes that, as the works of nature can be +investigated to the glory of the Creator, so may the mind of man be +developed to the glory of its Redeemer--be trained in philosophy, and +exercised also in the application of science to the wants and usages +of social life. Thus, to his apprehension, the links are clear which +connect Rome--the centre of civilization--with matters which appear +at first sight absolutely distinct from religion, with sewing-machines +and electric cables, with Huyghens's undulatory theory of light, and +Guthrie's researches into the relative sizes of drops and of bubbles. + +But here, perhaps, we shall be met by an objection. "Science," it will +be said, "surely not merely _appears_, but _is_ independent of +religion, as the experience of ancient and modern times will show. +Still more is independent of Papal Rome, which has always been on the +alert to check its progress, condemned Bishop Virgil for teaching the +existence of the antipodes, and Galileo for maintaining the +heliocentric system. Egypt under the Ptolemies, Etruria and Mexico, +Aristotle, Lord Bacon, and Sir Isaac Newton, alike scatter your +assertion to the winds; and if any doubt on the subject could linger +in the mind of any one, the late encyclical would the sufficient to +disabuse him of his fond delusion." + +To this we reply: We will not allow that even in ancient times +attainments in physical science were made irrespectively of religion. +Without religion, man lives in a savage state akin to brutes. Natural +religion, on which revealed religion is founded, exalts him in a +degree, and qualifies him for intellectual pursuits. Yet, even with +its assistance, so corrupt is his nature, that philosophy and science +can obtain no permanent command over his passions, and his highest +degrees of refinement are always succeeded by periods of degradation, +and no steady advance is made. As natural religion placed the heathen +in a condition somewhat favorable to the pursuit of science, so +revealed religion, or, in other words, Roman Catholicism, did the like +more completely, in consequence of its divine origin and perfect +adaptation to the needs of mankind. It brought society step by step +out of a state of semi-barbarism, and overcame the resistance offered +to its social improvements by the Roman people and Emperors, by Huns +and Vandals, by Islamism, Iconoclasts, and Feudalism. It covered +Europe with seats of learning, and kindled the student's lamp in the +monastic recesses of deep valleys and vast forests. It created a body +of theological science, and of philosophical in connection with it, +{641} which the more profound even of infidel thinkers admit to have +been among the most marvellous products of the human mind; and this +scientific system--over and above its higher purposes--was the very +best intellectual training possible under the circumstances of the +period. Then, as time went on, religion accepted gratefully and +employed in its own service the art of printing, and prepared the +human mind for those most energetic thoughts and often misdirected +efforts which have been made, from the fifteenth century downward, for +the discovery of physical truth. It is therefore manifest to all whose +thoughts reach below the surface of things, that the services which +Lord Bacon rendered to philosophy and Newton to Science, were +indirectly due to the Catholic Church. + +Rome, the central civilizer of society, exerts an influence far beyond +her visible domain. The earth is hers, and the fulness thereof. +Whatsoever things are true and holy in faith and morals among her +truants, whatever portions of her divine creed they carry away with +them to build up their sects, whatever books or texts of the mutilated +scriptures they retain, whatever graces shine forth in them, and in +part redeem their delinquency, are all to be ascribed to her as the +primary channel of communication between earth and heaven, and all +belong to her as their chartered proprietress, although they have been +wrested from her hands. "There is nothing right, useful, pleasing +(jucundum) in human society, which the Roman pontiffs have not brought +into it, or have not refined and fostered (expoliverint et foverint) +when introduced." [Footnote 134] Heresy is always blended with truth, +and the truth is always Rome's, while the heresy is theirs who have +corrupted it. Whatever is good and true in Protestantism is of Rome; +and as Protestants would have no Bible but for the councils which +settled its canon, and the despised monks who transcribed it age after +age, so Protestant churches would never have been founded if the great +old church had not overspread Europe. Nay, the _Novum Organon_ and +_Principia_ would in all probability never have seen the light. +Christianity, on the whole, keeps science alive; and but for the +popes, Christianity would soon vanish from the face of the earth. As +far as Bacon and Newton are indebted to Christianity for their +philosophy, just in so far are they indebted to Rome as its +fountain-head. Whatever stress is to be laid on the fact of their +being Christians, glorifies Rome indirectly as the source of +civilization. It is her very greatness and her perfect system of +doctrine which brings her into collision with every form of spiritual +rebellion; but those who fly off from her authority are still her +children, _in so far_ as they continue members at all of the family of +God. The prodigal son, amid all his degradation and wanderings, is +yearned over by his father, and belongs to his father's house in a +certain sense. + + [Footnote 134: Pope Pius IX. Letter to M. Mahon de Monaghan.] + +As to Rome being the enemy of physical science, it is not difficult to +see the causes which have led to so extreme a misconception. She has +ever protested, and that most energetically, against the prevalent +tendency to give physics a supremacy over theology, where the two seem +to clash; and she has also steadfastly resisted the pretension so +constantly made by physical science to thrust into a corner some +higher branches of human philosophy. Her conduct in the latter case +has been simply in accordance with what is now a growing conviction in +the philosophical world; while in the former case she has done nothing +more than uphold as infallibly certain the doctrinal deposit committed +to her charge. But with these most reasonable qualifications, she has +ever been active in stimulating the keenest physical researches. Well +may the present pope say that "it is _impudently_ bruited abroad that +the Catholic {642} religion and the Roman pontificate are adverse to +civilization and progress, and therefore to the happiness which may +thence be expected." [Footnote 135] To harp upon Virgil and Galileo, +proves how few and slender are the arguments which our accusers can +adduce in support of their charge. If we defer to facts, and regard +the entire history of Christendom, we can certainly name ten persons +distinguished for physical discoveries in our own communion, for every +one whom Protestantism can boast. In no Catholic country is such +science discouraged, but its professors are, on the contrary, +everywhere rewarded and honored. Nowhere among us has any recent +science, such as geology, been prohibited, or even combated, except by +individuals. Its conclusions, when really established, have been +admitted by all learned Catholics notwithstanding they appeared at +first sight to run counter to the words of inspiration. Cardinal +Wiseman's "Lectures on Science and Revealed Religion" abundantly +illustrate what is here stated; and his whole life was a refutation of +the calumny with which his creed is so often assailed. New arts, which +are each the visible expression of a corresponding science, have been +welcomed abroad as readily as in England; and Belgium could be +traversed by steam long before the Great Western line between London +and Bristol was completed. If it so happened that the greatest English +astronomer, naturalist, or mathematician, were a Catholic, his +co-religionists would be the most forward of all Englishmen to extol +his genius. His scientific pursuits would never make him an object of +suspicion with us, provided his loyalty to the church were complete; +nor would his zeal be damped by any ecclesiastical authority, so, long +as his conclusions involved nothing adverse to religion. The Catholic, +it is true, can never make the claims of science paramount to those of +faith, but the restraint thus imposed on him is of the most salutary +kind, and will be no real check on his liberty of thought; for science +and revelation, though it may for a while be difficult to harmonize +some of their statements, must ever be found to agree strictly on +closer examination. + + [Footnote 135: Pius IX. Letter to M. Mahon de Monaghan.] + +It would be easy to mark the successive stages in European +civilization by the pontificates of popes remarkable for their energy +of character and the brightness of their abilities. The average length +of the reigns of the first thirty-seven was rather less than ten +years; and during this time they had to struggle for something +infinitely more important than art and science. They were penetrated +with a deep sense of their sublime mission, and neither old age, +infirmities, nor persecution, paralyzed their labors. "They employed +their revenues in maintaining the poor, the sick, the infirm, the +widows, orphans, and prisoners, in burying the martyrs, in erecting +and embellishing oratories, in comforting and redeeming confessors and +captives, and in sending aid of every description to the suffering +churches of other provinces." [Footnote 136] Thus, in the wise order +of providence, papal civilization began in the moral world before it +extended to the intellectual. Yet in the middle of the fourth century, +the pope and his coadjutors in different quarters of the globe, +presented a striking spectacle, when considered merely in their +intellectual aspect. St. Damasus, the thirty-eighth pope, occupied the +see of St. Peter. While he zealously promoted ecclesiastical +discipline, he won for himself general admiration by his virtues and +his writings. His taste for letters carried him beyond the sphere of +theological labor; he composed verses, and wrote several heroic poems. +[Footnote 137] He was the light of Rome, while St. Augustine, the +brightest star that ever adorned the Catholic episcopate, shone at +Hippo. St. Ambrose, at the same time, was the glory of Milan; St. +Gregory taught at Nyssa; St. Gregory Nazianzen {643} wrote in +Constantinople; St. Martin evangelized the Gauls; St. Basil composed +his "Moralia" and his Treatise on the study of ancient Greek authors +at Caesarea; St. Hilary and St. Paulinus bore witness to the truth in +Poitiers and Trèves; St. Jerome unfolded the sacred stores of his +learning in Thrace, Bithynia, Cappadocia, and Pontus; St. Cyril wrote +beside his Saviour's tomb; and St. Patrick converted Ireland from the +darkness of Druidic paganism. + + [Footnote 136: J. Chantrel, "La Royauté Pontifieale," p. 74] + + [Footnote 137: St. Jerome, "De Illustr. Eccles. Script."] + +Every faithful prelate at that period--nay, every true Christian; +however humble his condition--stood out more prominently from the mass +of society than we can now imagine. Christianity has produced among us +a certain general level of morality. But it was not so then. The +masses were still heathen, and Christians were often in a very small +minority. Their principles and conduct, therefore, were so distinct +from those around them, that each attracted attention, and exerted +more influence than he was aware of. Each Roman Catholic--for we +joyfully accept a designation which is erroneously supposed to limit +our claims--each Roman Catholic was then a light shining in a dark +place, and, in his measure, an apostle of civilization. He promoted +science, even though he had never heard its name, for he diminished +that amount of moral depravity, on the ruins of which alone science +can build her gorgeous fanes. He was member of a church, which, +wherever it was established, protested by its institutions against the +excessive indulgence of carnal affections. A celibate priesthood, +societies of monks and nuns, hermits, and vows of chastity observed by +persons living in the world, like St. Cecilia and St. Scholastica, and +expiring in the arms of wife or husband without ever having done +violence to the pure intentions which marked their bridal--these +things formed a spectacle so extraordinary to the heathen, who had +been accustomed to make sensual indulgence a feature in their +religious solemnities, that it could not but excite inquiry, and issue +in affixing a fresh stamp of divinity on the faith of Christ. What +would have become of society by this time if the elements of +decomposition which then existed had been allowed to work unchecked by +the laws of Christian marriage, the prohibition of divorce, and lastly +by monasticism--monasticism not forced on any one as a duty, but +freely chosen as a privilege--a higher and purer state, best suited +for communion with God and activity in his service! + +In the fifth century, the efforts which had been made by Popes +Innocent, Boniface, Celestine, and Sixtus III. for the conversion of +the barbarians who overran the fairest portions of Europe, were +continued with extraordinary perseverance by the great St. Leo. He +formed the most conspicuous figure in his age. No element of greatness +was wanting to his character, and the complicated miseries of the +times only threw into stronger relief the energy of his mind and will. +His reign, from first to last, is a chapter in the history of +civilization. Attila, crossing the Jura mountains with his numerous +hordes, fell upon Italy. Valentinian III. fled before him, and Leo +alone had weight and courage equal to the task of interceding with the +resistless devastator. On the 11th of June, 452, he set forth to meet +him, and found him on the banks of the Mincio. Rome was saved, and +with it religion and the hopes of society. Three years after, Genseric +with his Vandals stood before its gates; and though Leo could not this +time altogether stay the destroyer, he saved the lives of the +citizens, and Rome itself from being burnt. If she had not been +possessed of a hidden and supernatural life, far transcending that +idea of a civilizing agent which it so abundantly includes, she would +already have been razed to the ground, as she was afterward by the +Ostrogoths under Totila, and from neither devastation would she ever +have been {644} able to revive. At this moment she would be numbered +with Nineveh and Sidon, the foxes would bark upon the Aventine as when +Belisarius rode through the deserted Forum, and shepherds would fold +their flocks upon the hills where St. Peter's and St. John Lateran now +dazzle the eye with splendor. [Footnote 138] + + [Footnote 138: Monsignor Manning, "The Eternity of Rome."--_Lamp_, + Nov. 1863.] + +Happily great popes never fail. All are great in their power and +influence, and almost all have been good, while from time to time +Providence raises up some one also who makes an impression on his age, +and is acknowledged by friends and foes alike to be gifted with those +qualities which entitle him to the epithet "great." Pelagus I. +supplied the Romans with provisions during a long siege, and after the +example of St. Leo, obtained from Totila some mitigation of his +barbarous severities; John III. and Benedict I. ministered largely to +the Italians who were dying of want, and driven from their homes by +the remorseless Lombards; and writers the most adverse to the +papacy--Gibbon, Daunou, [Footnote 139] Sismondi--testify to the +disinterested benevolence of these and other pontiffs during the +church's struggle with northern devastators. Just a century and a half +had elapsed since Leo the Great's elevation, when St. Gregory ascended +the papal throne amid the people's acclamation. He was at the same +time doctor, legislator, and statesman; and the plain facts of his +pontificate might be so related as to appear a panegyric rather than a +sober history. In the midst of personal weakness and suffering, the +strength of his soul and intellect were felt in every quarter of +Christendom and while he composed his "Pastoral" and his "Dialogues," +or negotiated with the Lombards in behalf of his afflicted country, +news reached him frequently of the success of his missions amongst +distant and barbarous people. [Footnote 140] To one of these we owe +the conversion of our Anglo-Saxon forefathers; and the results it +produced extort from Macaulay the admission that the spiritual +supremacy assumed by the pope effected more good than harm, and that +the Roman Church, by uniting all men in a bond of brotherhood, and +teaching all their responsibility before God, deserves to be spoken of +with respect by philosophers and philanthropists. [Footnote 141] + + [Footnote 139: "Essai Historique," t. i.] + + [Footnote 140: See Chantrel, "Hist. Populaire des Papes," t. v.] + + [Footnote 141: "Hist. of England," chap. i.] + +Sabinian, Boniface III. and IV., John IV. and VII., Theodore, Martin, +Eugene, and Benedict II., trod firmly in the steps of St. Gregory, and +encouraged the clergy everywhere in repairing the evils wrought by the +barbarians, and in re-establishing law and order. [Footnote 142] The +bishops became the natural chiefs of society, and the administration +of justice was often placed in their hands by common consent. Their +counsel was taken by untutored kings, and they gradually impressed +them with a sense of the distinction between temporal and spiritual +power, and of the right of the latter to control the undue exercise of +the former. They raised by turns all the great questions that interest +mankind, and established the independence of the intellectual world. +[Footnote 143] Such is the impartial testimony of writers unhappily +prejudiced against the institution they applaud. + + [Footnote 142: Gibbon, "Decline and Fall," chap. ixv.] + + [Footnote 143: Guizot, "Hist. de la Civilisation en Europe." "Hist. + de la Civilisation en France." t. ii.] + +In their protracted conflict with Islamism, the Roman pontiffs were +the champions of social improvement. It needs only to survey the +opposite coasts of the Mediterranean, in order to gain some idea of +the paralyzing influence which the creed of Mohammed would have +exerted over human progress, if it had not been vigorously resisted. +Its prevailing dogma being fatalism, and its main precept sensuality, +it has, after a lapse of twelve centuries, failed to ameliorate the +condition of the tribes who profess it. If, in any respects, they +enjoy advantages unknown to their forefathers, these are due, not to +Mohammedanism, but to that {645} very anti-Saracenic movement which +the popes headed, and which, under different conditions, they carry +forward to this day. Permanent degradation was all that Islamism could +promise. The Arabs alone kindled for a while the lamp of learning, but +even their subtlety and genius did not suffice to keep its flame +alive. Everywhere, and with all the forces at their command, the popes +repelled its encroachments. More than once they girded on the sword, +and led their warriors to the charge against the Moslem host. During a +hundred and seventy years--from 1096 to 1270--they roused and united +the nations again and again in the common cause. Other statesmen were +unable to form extensive combinations, but _they_ were often +successful where diplomacy failed. In eight successive crusades, the +flower of Europe's chivalry was marshalled on the Syrian plains, and +if Catholic arms failed in retaining possession of the city of +Jerusalem and the sepulchre of Christ, they at all events saved the +cause of European civilization, and ultimately drove back the intruder +from the vineyards of Spain and the gates of Vienna, and sank their +proud galleys in the waves of Lepanto. When the zeal of crusaders died +away, the Roman pontiffs ever tried to rekindle it, constantly rebuked +the princes who made terms with the false prophet, and exhorted them +to expel the conquered Saracens from their soil. Such was the policy +of Clement IV., under whom, in 1268, the last crusade was set on foot. +[Footnote 144] Two centuries later, Calixtus III. was animated with +the same sentiments. He was appalled, as his predecessor had been, at +the progress the Turks made in Europe after the capture of +Constantinople, and made a strenuous appeal to the Catholic kingdoms +against the Mussulman invasions. At an advanced age he preserved in +his soul the fire of youth, sent preachers in every direction to rouse +the slumbering zeal of the faithful, and himself equipped an army of +60,000 men, which he sent under the command of Campestran, his legate, +to the help of the noble Hunyad in Hungary. Pius II. succeeded him in +1458. He was at once theologian, orator, diplomatist, canonist, +historian, geographer, and poet. He struggled hard to organize a +crusade against the Ottomans, formed a league to this end with Mathias +Corvin, king of Hungary, pressed the king of France, the duke of +Burgundy, and the republic of Venice into the cause, and placed +himself at the head of the expedition. He was on the point of +embarking at Ancona, and in sight of the Venetian galleys, waiting to +transport him to the foreign shore, when fever surprised him, and he +died. "No doubt," he said, "war is unsuitable to the weakness of old +men, and the character of pontiffs, but when religion is ready to +succumb, what can detain us? We shall be followed by our cardinals and +a large number of bishops. We shall march with our standard unfolded, +and with the relics of saints, with Jesus Christ himself in the holy +Eucharist." The spectacle would certainly have been grand, if Pius II. +had thus appeared before the walls of Constantinople; but Providence +had not willed it so. + + [Footnote 144: See his letter to the King of Arragon. Fleury, "Hist, + Eccles." An. 1266.] + +These are but a few of the great names which lent weight to the appeal +in behalf of the harassed pilgrims in Palestine, the outraged tomb of +the Redeemer, and the Christian lands overran by Saracens and Turkish +hordes. To whatever causes the worldly-wise historian may attribute +the overthrow of the Ottoman power in Europe, the Catholic will +ascribe it without hesitation to the untiring activity of the popes. +Divided as the petty kingdoms and principalities of the west were by +mutual jealousy and ceaseless warfare, they would never have been able +to oppose a compact front to the advances of Islamism, if they had not +been persuaded by popes and prelates, by Peter the hermit, St. +Bernard, and {646} Foulque, to lay aside their miserable disputes, and +unite against the common enemy. Thus, by the crusades, immediate +benefit accrued to European society, and the character of the church +as a ruler and leader was never borne in upon the minds of men with +greater force than when Adhémar, the apostolic legate, put himself at +the head of the Crusade under Urban II., "wore by turns the prelate's +mitre and the knight's casque," and proved the model, the consoler, +and the stay of the sacred expedition. [Footnote 145] The presence of +bishops and priests among the soldiery impressed on the Crusades a +religious stamp favorable to the enthusiasm and piety of the +combatants, and corrective of the evils which never fail to follow the +camp. [Footnote 146] Nations learned their Christian brotherhood, +which former ages had taught them to forget; minds were enlarged by +travel, and prejudices were dispelled; civilizing arts were acquired +even from the infidel, and brought back to western towns and villages +as the most precious spoil. As Rome had, at an earlier period, +resisted the superstition and rapacity of Leo the Isaurian, [Footnote +147] and rescued Christian art from the hands of the image-breakers, +so now she opened the way to commerce with the east and rewarded the +zeal of Catholic populations with the costly bales and rich produce of +Arabia and Syria. + + [Footnote 145: Michaad et Poujouiat, "Hist. des Croisades."] + + [Footnote 146: See Heeren, "Essai sur l'Influence des Croisades."] + + [Footnote 147: "Parfum de Rome," t. i. p. 124.] + +Having turned the feudal system to good account in its conflict with +Mohammedanism, the Church, with Rome for its centre, rejoiced to find +that system, at the close of the struggle, considerably weakened. It +had grown to maturity in a barbarous age, and was but a milder form of +that slavery which had so deeply disgraced the institutions of Pagan +Rome. [Footnote 148] It perpetuated the distinctions of caste, and +the privilege enjoyed by one family of oppressing others. It was +selfishness exalted by pride--the right of the strong over the weak. +It exacted forced tribute, and held in its own violent hands the +moral, mental, and material well-being of its subjects. It required +blind and absolute submission, and often refused to dispense justice +even at this price. Immobility was its ruling principle, and there was +nothing on which it frowned more darkly than amelioration and +progress. In all these particulars it was at variance with the +religion of Christ, and for this reason Rome never ceased to combat +its manifold abuses. + + [Footnote 148: See "Rome under Paganism," etc., vol. 1. pp. 50-53.] + +At the close of the Crusades the nobles began to learn their proper +place. Petty fiefs and small republics disappeared, and one strong and +regal executive swallowed up a multitude of inferior and vexatious +masteries. The barons became the support of the throne whose authority +they had so long weakened, and ceased to oppress the people as they +had done for ages. Cities multiplied, and rose to opulence; municipal +governments flourished, acquired and conferred privileges, and +afforded to the industrious abundant scope for wholesome emulation, +and laudable ambition. All the arts of life were brought into +exercise, and a new and middling class of society was called into +being. The merchants, the tradesmen, and the gentry obtained their +recognized footing in the community, and numberless corporations, +guilds, and militia testified to the growing importance of the burgess +as distinguished from the noble and the villain. [Footnote 149] + + [Footnote 149: See Mably, "Observations sur l'Histoire de France," + iii. 7.] + +Well-ordered governments on a large scale involved of necessity the +cultivation of the soil. Myriads of acres which, before the Crusades, +had been barren or baneful, now smiled with waving corn, or bore rich +harvests of luscious grapes. The want of bulky transports to convey +large cargoes of men and munitions to the East had caused great +alteration and improvement in the construction of ships. {647} +Navigation and commerce gained fresh vigor; maritime laws and customs +came to be recognized, and were reduced, about the middle of the +thirteenth century, into a manual called _Consolato del mar_, +[Footnote 150] Venice, Genoa, Pisa, and Marseilles rose to wealth and +splendor; sugar and silks were manufactured; stuffs were woven and +dyed; metals were wrought; architecture was diversified and improved, +medicine learned many a precious rule and remedy from Arab leeches; +geography corrected long-standing blunders; and poetry found a new +world in which to expatiate. None of these results were unforeseen by +the prescience of Rome. She knew that it was her mission to renew the +face of the earth; nor, in pursuing her unwavering policy in reference +to Islamism, did she ever forget that it was given her from the first +to suck the breasts of the Gentiles, and to assimilate to her own +system all that is rich and rare in nature, wonderful in science, +beauteous in art, wise in literature, and noble in man. The Roman +Church had ever been the friend and patron of those slaves whom Cato +and Cicero, with all their philosophy, so heartily despised. +[Footnote 151] She did not indeed affirm that slavery was impossible +under the Christian law, but she discouraged it. "At length," says +Voltaire, whose testimony on such a point none will suspect, "Pope +Alexander III., in 1167, declared in the name of the Council that all +Christians should be (_devaient étre_) exempt from slavery. This law +alone ought to render his memory dear to all people, as his efforts to +maintain the liberty of Italy should make his name precious to the +Italians." [Footnote 152] Lord Macaulay has spoken frankly of the +advantage to which the Catholic Church shows in some countries as +contrasted with our forms of Christianity, and says it is notorious +that the antipathy between the European and African races is less +strong at Rio Janeiro than at Washington. [Footnote 153] On the +authority of Sir Thomas Smith, one of Elizabeth's most able +counsellors, he assures us that the Catholic priests up to that time +had used their most strenuous exertions to abolish serfdom. Confessors +never failed to adjure the dying noble who owned serfs to free his +brethren for whom Christ died. Thus the bondsman became loosened from +the glebe which gave him birth; many during the Crusades left their +plough in the furrow, and their cattle at the trough, and escaped from +service they had long detested; and many knights and lords who +returned from the Holy Land emancipated their serfs of their own +accord. Free hirelings took the place of hereditary bondsmen; and the +peasant's life assumed a pleasant and civilized aspect. In proportion +as Rome's genuine influence prevails in any country over clergy and +people, the traces of the fall diminish, and those of paradise are +restored. + + [Footnote 150: E. M. de Monaghan, p. 219. ] + + [Footnote 151: Cic. Orat de Harusp, Resp. xii. ] + + [Footnote 152: Sur les Moeurs, ch. 83. ] + + [Footnote 153: Hist. of England, chap. i.] + +The Roman pontiff have often been accused of interfering in the +private affairs of princes. But the charge is unjust. It is part of +their mission to repress all moral disorders, and especially to punish +the licentiousness of sovereigns whose bad example promotes immorality +among their subjects. Their jurisdiction is fully admitted; their +right of granting or refusing a divorce no Catholic prince disputes +any more than their right of inflicting penances in case of adultery +or incest. To deny them, therefore, the opportunity of investigating +the very cases on which they must ultimately decide, would be +manifestly inconsistent and absurd. When Lothaire II. of Lorraine +drove away from his court the virtuous Teustberghe, and accused her of +disgraceful crimes, who can blame Nicholas I. for having espoused the +cause of this persecuted queen, and excommunicated in council her +unjust lord? Did the popes "interfere" in such matters otherwise than +in the interests of humanity; and if they had {648} consulted their +own ease and comfort, would they not have abstained from such +interference altogether? Let the world call it papal aggression, +usurpation, political scheming, or what other hard name it will, the +true Christian will see in it nothing but disinterested devotion to +the voice of conscience and the good of society. God himself seems to +have declared in favor of Pope Nicholas in the affair alluded to; for +when Louis le Germanique took up arms to avenge his brother, and +marched on Rome, the pontiff met his armies with fasting and litanies, +and with no other standard than the crucifix given by the Empress +Helena containing a fragment of the true cross. The victorious king +was overcome by these demonstrations, and, imploring the pope's +pardon, submitted to all his conditions. [Footnote 154] We hesitate +not to affirm that the "interference" of the popes in temporal affairs +has more than once saved Europe from Islamism, even as at the present +time they are saving her from total infidelity. Whether successful or +unsuccessful, they struggled with equal constancy and valor against +that formidable power. About the year 876 Mussulman hordes infested +the country around Rome to such an extent that at last scarcely a +hamlet or drove of oxen remained to suffer by the widespread disaster. +Three hundred Saracen galleys menaced the mouth of the Tiber, and John +VIII., deserted and betrayed by neighboring dukes, implored by letter +the aid of Charles the Bald and the Emperor Charles of Germany. Yet he +failed, and that not so much through the strength of the Mohammedans +as through the base conduct of princes called Christian, who cast him +into prison, and then drove him to find refuge in France. Often have +the popes been obliged to follow the example of John VIII., and look +forth from their retirement in foreign lands on the tempest they have +braved and escaped. His 320 letters show how much temporal affairs +occupied his attention, because God willed that his spiritual +authority should show forth its civilizing tendency in temporal +intervention. His conflict with Islamism, which seemed unproductive at +the time, bore fruit in after ages. + + [Footnote 154: Milman's Hist. of Latin Christianity. ] + +The differences which arose and lasted so long between the popes and +the emperors of Germany are constantly misrepresented by writers +adverse to the Church. Their origin lay in the attachment of the Roman +pontiffs to principles which they can never abandon. The investiture +quarrel was a long struggle of spiritual authority against imperial +aggression, and the apparent compromise in which it issued left the +divine prerogatives of the Holy See intact. Simony was one great +plague of the middle ages, and but for the popes the princes of Europe +would have filled the Lord's temple with impious traffic. But for the +popes, too, many of them would have been unchecked in their proud +dreams of universal empire, which, if realized, would have been as +injurious to the liberties of mankind as to the free action of the +church. Frederick II., who was born in Italy, and lived to spend long +years in its delicious climate, without once visiting his German +domains, desired to establish in her the throne of the Caesars. This +was the secret of all his disputes with the pope, and this ambitious +project every successor of St. Peter felt bound to resist. But amid +all these struggles, from Gregory VII. to Calistus II., the life of +the church was a continual child-bearing, and while the popes battled +with crowned princes, they labored also for the souls of the poor. If +you would find the inexhaustible mine of that salt which keeps the +whole world from corruption, you must seek it in the hill where Paul +was buried, and Peter expired on his inverted cross. Proceeding thus +by regular stages in the work of improvement, the Roman Church had the +satisfaction of seeing every formula of enfranchisement signed by +prince or baron in the name of religion. It was {649} always with some +Christian idea, some hope of future recompense, some recognition of +the equality of all men in the sight of God, that the strong +voluntarily loosened the bonds of the weak. Absurd and barbarous +legislation was gradually reformed under the same influence; and +trials by single combat, oaths without evidence, and passing through +fire or cold water as a test of innocence, were supplanted by more +rational processes. M. Gnizot has pointed out the great superiority of +the laws of the Visigoths over those of other barbarous people around +them; and he ascribes this difference to their having been drawn up +under the direction of the Councils of Toledo. They laid great stress +on the examination of written documents in all trials, accepted mere +affirmation on oath only as a last resource, and distinguished between +the different degrees of guilt in homicide, with or without +premeditation, provoked or unprovoked, and the like. If M. Guizot's +observation is well founded in the case of an Arian code, how much +more weight would it have, if made in reference to laws framed under +Catholic influence. Civilization and theology went hand in hand. Every +question was considered in its theological bearing. The habits, the +feelings, and the language of men continually bespoke religious ideas. +Barbaric wisdom was guided by the Star of the East to Bethlehem, and +matured in the school of Christ. The public penances imposed by the +church became the form to which penal inflictions were moulded by the +law; the repentance of the culprit, and the fear of offending inspired +in bystanders, being the twofold object kept in view. The progress +made by the nations under such tutelage has been allowed by many +Protestant historians, and it would be easy to cite the testimony of +Robertson, Sismondi, Leibnitz, Coquerel, Ancillon, [Footnote 155] and +De Muller, [Footnote 156] to the truth of our statements. Duels in +the middle ages, and even down to the time of Louis XIV., raged like +an epidemic, produced deadly feuds between families, abolished all +just decision of disputes, and gave the advantage to the more agile +and skilful of the combatants. From 1589 to 1607 no less than 4000 +French gentleman lost their lives in duels. [Footnote 157] The genius +of Sully and Richelieu was unequal to the task of crushing this +two-fold crime of suicide and murder. But the church had never ceased +to denounce it, and, in the Council of Trent especially, launched all +her thunders against it. [Footnote 158] At length temporal princes +were guided by her voice in this matter. Charles V. forbade it in his +vast dominions; in Portugal it was punished with confiscation and +banishment to Africa; and in Sweden it was visited with death. + + [Footnote 155: Tableau des Révolutions.] + + [Footnote 156: Hist. Universelle.] + + [Footnote 157: Bell on Feudalism.] + + [Footnote 158: Sess. xxv. c. 19.] + +The pitiless character of human legislation was exhibited for ages in +the practice of refusing those who were condemned to death the +privilege of confession; and it was not till the reign of Philip the +Bold, in 1397, that this cruel restriction was removed. The church had +always protested against it, and her remonstrances at last prevailed. +Chivalry itself owed something to her inspiration. Mingled as it was +with rudeness and violence, it had also many noble elements, which +religion encouraged. It was a step toward higher civilization, because +it vindicated the dignity of womankind; true gallantry sprang from +honest purposes and virtuous conduct, and if Sir Galahad said-- + + "My good blade carves the casques of men, + My tough lance thrusteth sure," + +he added-- + + "My strength is as the strength of ten, + _Because my heart is pure_." + +Sir James Stephen, in a paper on St. Gregory VII., [Footnote 159] has +avowed his conviction that the centralization of the ecclesiastical +power did more than counterbalance the isolating tendency of feudal +oligarchies. But for the {650} intervention of the papacy, he says, +the vassal of the west, and the serf of eastern Europe would, perhaps +to this day be in the same state of social debasement, and military +autocrats would occupy the place of paternal and constitutional +governments. Feudal despotism strove to debase men into wild beasts or +beasts of burden, while "the despotism of Hildebrand," whether +consistent or no, sought to guide the human race by moral impulses to +sanctity more than human. If the popes had abandoned the work assigned +them by Providence, they would have plunged the church and world into +hopeless bondage. St. Gregory VII. found the papacy dependent on the +empire, and he supported it by alliances with Italian princes. He +found the chair of the apostles filled, when vacant, by the clergy and +the people of Rome, and he provided for less stormy elections by +making the pope eligible by a college of his own nomination. He found +the Holy See in subjection to Henry, and he rescued it from his hands. +He found the secular clergy subservient to lay influence, and he +rendered them free and active auxiliaries of his own authority. He +found the highest dignitaries of the church the slaves of temporal +sovereigns, and he delivered them from this yoke, and bound them to +the tiara. He found ecclesiastical functions and benefices the spoil +and traffic of princes, and he brought them back to the control of the +sovereign pontiff; He is justly celebrated as the reformer of the +profane and licentious abuses of his time, and we owe him the praise +also of having left the impress of his giant character on the history +of the ages that followed. Such are the candid admissions of a +professor in the University of Cambridge. The highest eulogies of Rome +are often to be found in the writings of aliens. + + [Footnote 159: Edinburgh Review, 1845.] + +Up to the time of the Reformation the Roman church was manifestly in +the forefront of civilization. After that terrible revolution she was +still really so, but not always manifestly. Her position was the same, +but that of society had changed. It no longer accepted her laws; it +cavilled at her authority, ort openly spurned it. People forgot their +debt of gratitude to the power which had always interfered in behalf +of the oppressed, and princes jibed at the restraints which the papacy +imposed on their absolute rule. The printing-press was wrested from +the church's hands, and made the chief engine for propagating +misbelief. A new and spurious civilization was set up, and was so +blended with real and amazing progress in many of the sciences and the +arts of life, that when the popes opposed what was corrupt in it and +of evil tendency, they often appeared adverse to what was genuine. Of +this their enemies took every advantage, and constantly represented +them as the mortal foes of the liberty, enlightenment, and progress of +mankind. Pontiff after pontiff protested against this wilful +misrepresentation, which has lasted three hundred years, and continues +in full force to this day. Seldom has it been put forward more +speciously than in reference to the recent Encyclical of Pius IX. We +shall endeavor to show its utter falsity in the remainder of this +article. + +Thrown back in her efforts to evangelize Europe, the church turned +with more ardor than ever toward the other hemisphere. Already Alvarez +di Cordova had planted the cross in Congo. Idolatry vanished before it +almost entirely in the African territory recently discovered, and upon +its ruins rose the city of San Salvador. The ills inflicted on the +Americans by the first Spanish settlers were repaired by the +Benedictine Bernard di Buil, and other missionaries who trod in his +steps. The Dominicans set their faces sternly against reducing the +Indians to the rank of slaves, and Father Monterino, in the church of +St. Domingo, inveighed against it in the presence of the governor, +with all {651} the fervor of popular eloquence. [Footnote 160] The +life of Bartholomew de Las Casas was one long struggle against the +cupidity and cruelty of Spanish masters and in favor of Indian +freedom. The labors and successes of St. Francis Xavier are too well +known to require recapitulation in this place; it is more to the +purpose to remark that the missionaries of Rome, from Mexico and the +Philippine islands, to Goa, Cochin-China, and Japan, everywhere +exposed to adverse climate, hardship, and martyrdom, carried with them +the two-fold elements of civilization--religion and the arts of life. +The Jesuit who started for China was provided with telescope and +compass. He appeared at the court of Pekin with the urbanity of one +fresh from the presence of Louis XIV., and surrounded with the +insignia of science. He unrolled his maps, turned his globes, chalked +out his spheres, and taught the astonished mandarins the course of the +stars and the name of him who guides them in their orbits. [Footnote +161] Buffon, [Footnote 162] Robertson, and Macaulay have alike +extolled the missionary zeal of the Jesuit fathers, and have ascribed +to them, not merely the regeneration of the inward man, but the +cultivation of barren lands, the building of cities, new high roads of +commerce, new products, new riches and comforts for the whole human +race. + + [Footnote 160: Robertson, Hist. of America.] + + [Footnote 161: Génie du Christianisme.] + + [Footnote 162: Hist. Naturelle de l'Homme.] + +In teaching barbarous nations the arts of life and the elements of +scientific knowledge, the missionaries acted in perfect accordance +with the spirit of the papacy and the example of the religious orders. +Each of these had its appointed sphere, and each civilized mankind in +its own way. The templars, the knights of St. John, the Teutonic +knights, and half a dozen other now forgotten military orders, +defended civilization with the sword; the Chartreux, the Benedictines, +the Bernardines, in quiet and shady retreats, preserved from decay the +precious stores of heathen antiquity, compiled the history of their +several epochs, and gave themselves, under many disadvantages, to the +study of natural philosophy; the Redemptorists, the Trinitarians, and +the Brothers of Mercy devoted themselves to the redemption of captives +and the emancipation of slaves. Voltaire cannot pass them over without +a burst of admiration, when touching on their benevolent career during +six centuries. [Footnote 163] Some orders made preaching and private +instruction their special work, and among these were the Dominicans, +the Franciscans, the Carmelites, and the Augustines. The pulpit is the +lever that raises the moral world; and it civilizes city, village, and +hamlet the more effectually because its work is constant and +systematic. It explains, Sunday after Sunday, and festival after +festival, the sublimest and deepest of all sciences, while it guides +society, with persuasive might, in the path of moral improvement. With +all that social science has devised for the comfort and welfare of +mankind, nothing that it has ever invented is so essentially +civilizing, so dignified and lovely, so unpretending and strong, as +the self-denying labors of brothers and sisters of charity, +sacrificing youth, beauty, prospects, tastes, and indulgence, on the +altar of religion, and passing their days among the lepers and the +plague-stricken, the ignorant, the degraded, the squalid and the +infirm. + + [Footnote 163: Sur les Moeurs, ch. cxx.] + +And of these orders, none, be it observed, has railed against +knowledge. By no rule, in any one of them, has ignorance been made a +virtue and science a sin. All have admired the beauty of +knowledge--the fire on her brow--her forward countenance--her +boundless domain. All have wished well to her cause, and have +maintained only that she should know her place; that she is the +second, not the first; that she is not wisdom, but {652} wisdom's +handmaid; that she is of earth, and wisdom is of heaven; she is of the +world for the church, and wisdom is of the church for the world. +Severed from religion, they regarded her as some wild Pallas from the +brain of demons; but science guided by a higher hand, and moving side +by side with revelation, like the younger child, they believed to be +the most beautiful spectacle the mind could contemplate. + +To repeat these things in the ears of well read Catholics, is to +iterate a thrice-told tale. But there are others who need often to be +reminded of facts of history which our adversaries are apt to ignore. +Besides the vast body of priests and religious orders, whose office +was to disseminate thought and piety through the world, the papacy +constantly sought new vehicles by which to promote science. The +greater part of the universities of Europe owe their existence to this +agency. Oxford, Cambridge, Glasgow, Naples, Padua, Vienna, Upsal, +Lisbon, Salamanca, Toulouse, Montpellier, Orleans, Nantes, Poictiers, +and a multitude beside, were made centres of human knowledge under the +patronage of the popes, and Clement V., Gregory IX., Engenius IV., +Nicholas V., and Pius II., were among the most illustrious of their +founders. + +The writings of Leonardo da Vinci were not published till a century +after his death, and some of them at a still later period. They are +more like revelations of physical truths vouchsafed to a single mind, +than the fabric of its reasoning on any established basis. He laid +down the principle of Bacon, that experiment and observation must be +our chief guides in the investigation of nature. Venturi has given a +most interesting list of the truths in mechanism apprehended by the +genius of this light of the fifteenth century. [Footnote 164] He was +possessed in the highest degree of the spirit of physical inquiry, and +in this department of learning was truly a seer. + + [Footnote 164: Estai sur lea Ouvrages Physico-Mathématiques de + Léonard de Vinci. Paris. 1797. Hallam's Literary History, vol. i. + pp. 222-5.] + +Let the reader transport himself in idea to the beautiful borders of +the Henares, and there, in the opening of the sixteenth century, look +down on the rising University of Alcalá. Let him admire and wonder at +the varied energy of its founder--Ximenes, the prelate, the hermit, +the warrior, and the statesman. There, in his sixty-fourth year, he +laid the corner-stone of the principal college, and was often seen +with the rule in hand, taking the measurement of the buildings, and +encouraging the industry of the workmen. The diligence with which he +framed the system of instruction to be pursued, the activity of mind +he promoted among the students, the liberal foundations he made for +indigent scholars and the regulation of professors' salaries, did not +withdraw him from the affairs of state, or the publication of his +famous Bible, the Complutensian Polyglot. When Francis I., visited +Alcalá, twenty years after the university was opened, 7000 students +came forth to receive him, and by the middle of the seventeenth +century the revenue bequeathed by Ximenes had increased to 42,000 +ducats, and the colleges had multiplied from ten to thirty-five. +[Footnote 165] Most of the chairs were appropriated to secular +studies, and Alcalá stands forward as a brilliant refutation of the +calumnies against Catholic prelates as the patrons of ignorance. + + [Footnote 165: Quintanilla: Archetype. Prescott's Ferdinand and + Isabella, ii. 826.] + +The same country and epoch which produced Ximenes gave birth also to +Columbus. It was neither accident nor religion, but nautical science +and the intuitive vision of another hemisphere, that piloted him +across the Atlantic to the West-India shores. Amerigo Vespucci +followed in his wake, emulous of like discoveries. He published a +journal of his earlier voyages at Vicenza in 1507, and gave his name +{653} to the continent of the western world. Thus, while two great +navigators, each of them Catholics, explored new lands on the surface +of our globe, Copernicus at the same time, and Galileo not many years +after, presaged the motion of the planets round the sun, and the +twofold rotation of the earth. To Galileo, indeed, far more is due. To +him we owe the larger part of experimental philosophy. He first +propounded the laws of gravity, the invention of the pendulum, the +hydrostatic scales, the sector, a thermometer, and the telescope. With +the last he made numberless observations which changed the face of +astronomy. Among these, that of the satellites of Jupiter was one of +the most remarkable. He came, it is true, into a certain collision +with the church, but it is remarkable, that all the provocation given +by Galileo never reduced authority to the unjustifiable step of +impeding the fullest scientific investigation of his theory. Nay, +those astronomers who taught on the Copernican _hypothesis_ were more +favored at Rome than their opponents. It was at Galileo's request that +Urban appointed Castelli to be his own mathematician, and the letter +in which the pontiff recommended Galileo to the notice of the Grand +Duke of Tuscany, after his condemnation, abounds with expressions of +sincere friendship. As to the dungeon and the torture, they are simply +fabulous. During the process Galileo was permitted to lodge at the +Tuscan embassy instead of in the prison of the holy office--a favor +not accorded even to princes. His sentence of imprisonment was no +sooner passed, than the Pope commuted it into detention in the Villa +Medici, and, after he had resided there some days, he was allowed to +install himself in the palace of his friend, Ascanio Piccolomini, +archbishop of Sienna. Subsequently he retired to his own house and the +bosom of his family; for, as Nicolini's correspondence with him +testifies, "his holiness treated Galileo with unexpected and, perhaps, +excessive gentleness, granting all the petitions presented in his +behalf." [Footnote 166] These facts are surely sufficient to prove +that physical science received all due honor at this period in Rome. +In due time--long after Galileo's death--his theory was scientifically +established; and not very long afterward the Congregational decree was +suspended by Benedict XIV. Galileo's famous dialogue was published +entire at Padua in 1744 with the usual approbations; and in 1818 Pius +VII. repealed the decrees in question in full consistory. What could +the church do more? It was her duty to guard the Scriptures from +irreverence and unbelief, and to prohibit the advocacy of theories +absolutely unproved which seemed to oppose them. To her physical +science is dear, but revealed truth is infinitely dearer. Already she +had opposed astrology as a remnant of paganism, and had studied the +motions of the moon and planets to fix Easter and reform the Julian +calendar. Already Gregory XIII. had brought the calendar which bears +his name into use; and the works of Aristotle, translated into Arabic +and Latin, had become the model of theological methods of disputation +and treatise. St. Thomas Aquinas had written commentaries on them, and +on Plato; and thus, as well as by his essay on aqueducts and that on +hydraulic machines, had proved how inseparable is the alliance between +sound theology and true science. "The sceptre of science," says Joseph +de Maistre, "belongs to Europe only because she is Christian. She has +reached this high degree of civilization and knowledge because she +began with theology, because the universities were at first schools of +theology, and because all the sciences, grafted upon this divine +subject, have shown forth the divine sap by immense vegetation." +[Footnote 167] + + [Footnote 166: British Review. 1861. Martyrdom of Galileo.] + + [Footnote 167: Soirées de St. Pétersbourg, + Xme entretien. ] + +{654} + +Voltaire has observed that "the sovereign pontiffs have always been +remarkable among princes attached to letters," and the remark is +equally true as regards science and art. Silvester II. was so learned +that the common people attributed his vast erudition to magic. He +collected all the monuments of antiquity he could find in Germany and +Italy, and delivered them into the hands of copyists in the +monasteries. St. Gregory VII. conceived the design of rebuilding St. +Peter's, and gathered around him all the first architects of his day. +Gregory IX. interfered in behalf of the University of Paris, and, as +Guillaume de Nangis says, "prevented science and learning, those +treasures of salvation, from quitting the kingdom of France." Nicolas +V. was a great restorer of letters, and Macaulay speaks of him as one +whom every friend of science should name with respect. Sixtus IV. +conferred the title of Count Palatine on the printer Jenson, to +encourage the noble art, then in its infancy. Pius III. enriched +Sienna with a magnificent library, and engaged Raphael and +Pinturicchio to adorn it with frescoes. Paul V. endowed Rome with the +most beautiful productions of sculpture and painting, with splendid +fountains and enduring monuments. Urban VIII. loved all the arts, +succeeded in Latin poetry, and filled his court with men of learning. +Under his pontificate "the Romans," as Voltaire says, "enjoyed +profound peace, and shared all the charms and glory which talent sheds +on society." Benedict XIV. cultivated letters, composed poems, and +patronized science. The infidel himself just mentioned paid him +homage, and professed profound veneration for him, when sending him a +copy of his "Mahomet." [Footnote 168] Every pope in his turn has been +a Maecenas. Not one in the august line has lost sight of the interests +of society and the prerogatives of mind. The useful and the beautiful +were always present to their thoughts; and even in those few instances +where they failed in good personally, they encouraged in their +official capacity whatsoever things are true, lovely, and of good +fame. + + [Footnote 168: Letter to Pope Benedict XIV.] + +Many names dear to science and religion occur to us in illustration of +these remarks--names of men who, in the two last and in the present +century, have devoted their lives to secular learning without losing +their allegiance to the Catholic faith, or confounding it with other +sciences which lie within human control for their extension and +modification. Of these honorable names we will mention a few only by +way of example, feeling sure that our readers' memory will supply them +with many others. Cassini, among the astronomers, enjoyed so high a +reputation at Bologna that the Senate and the pope employed him in +several scientific and political missions. Colbert invited him to +Paris, where he became a member of the Academy of Sciences, and died +at a good old age in 1712, crowned with the glory of several important +discoveries, among which were those of the satellites of Saturn and +the rotation of Mars and Venus. His son James followed in his +footsteps, and bequeathed his name to fame. André Ampère, again, a +sincere Catholic, was one of the most illustrious disciples of +electro-magnetism. He developed the memorable discovery of Oersted, +ranged over the entire field of knowledge, and acquired a lasting +reputation by his "theory of electro-dynamic phenomena drawn from +experience." When between thirteen and fourteen years of age, he read +through the twenty folio volumes of D'Alembert and Diderot's +Encyclopaedia, digested its contents wonderfully for a boy and could +long afterwards repeat extracts from it. But his reading was not +confined to such books. A biography of Descartes, indeed, by Thomas, +inspired him with his earliest enthusiasm for mathematics and natural +philosophy; but his first communion also left an indelible stamp on +his memory and character. The love of religion then, once {655} and +for ever, took possession of his soul, and fired him through life, +like the electric currents into which he made such profound research. +When his days, which were fall of trouble, came to a close at +Marseilles in 1837, he told the chaplain of the college that he had +discharged all his Christian duties before setting out on his journey; +and when a friend began reading to him some sentences from "The +Imitation of Christ," he said, "I know the book by heart." These were +his last words. + +By the lives and labors of such men the church's mission on earth is +effectually seconded. They inspire the thinking portion of society +with confidence in religion, and though, from their constant +engagement in secular pursuits, they frequently err in some minor +point, and cling to some crotchet which ecclesiastical authority +cannot sanction, yet in consideration of their loyal intentions and +exemplary practices, the clergy everywhere regard them as able and +honorable coadjutors. True civilization, (observe the epithet,) far +from being adverse, must ever be favorable to the salvation of souls. +Many writers still living, or who have recently passed away, have +united happily Catholicism with science. Santarem, in his long exile, +gave his mind to the history of geography and the discoveries of his +Portuguese fellow-countrymen on the western coast of Africa. Caesar +Cantù, in his historical works, uniformly defended the cause of the +popedom in Italy, and persisted in holding it forward as his country's +hope. M. Capefigue, among his numerous works on French history, has +included the life of St. Vincent of Paul; and Cardinal Mai has +rendered incalculable service to the study of Greek MSS. But for his +diligence and sagacity, the palimpsests of the Vatican would never +have yielded up their all-but obliterated treasures. Saint-Hilaire, +eminent alike as a zoologist and natural philosopher, who demonstrated +so clearly the organic structure in the different species of animals +was destined in his youth for holy orders; but although he preferred a +scientific career, he retained his affection for the clergy, and saved +several of them, at the risk of his own life, during the massacres of +September, in 1792. Blainville, another great naturalist, and Cuvier's +successor in the chair of comparative anatomy, was deeply religious. +He felt the importance of rescuing physical science from the hands of +infidelity, by which it is so often perverted into an argument against +revelation. Epicurus is said to have maintained that our knowledge of +Deity is exactly commensurate with our knowledge of the works of +nature, and to have allowed no other measure of our theology out [sic] +physics. Lucretius devoted the whole of his beautiful but atheistic +poem, "De Rerum Naturâ" to the task of proving that the soul is +mortal, that religion is a cheat, and that natural causes sufficiently +account for all the phenomena of the universe. In our day the +disciples of Epicurus and Lucretius are legion, but they are not +always so plain spoken as their masters. Happily they are everywhere +opposed by men who recall physics to their true place, and make them a +corollary of revealed truth--the science of the Creator, as +Catholicism may be termed the science of the Divine Redeemer and +Ruler. But useful as such laborers in the field of secular learning +are, the truth cannot be too often repeated, that the vivifying +principle of civilization lies in the cross and the ministry of +reconciliation, of which the Pope is the head. No man whose knees have +never bent on Calvary is truly civilized. If his passions chance to be +tamed, his reason is rampant, or his conscience is asleep. He has no +clear perception of things divine, and his views of things earthly and +human are erroneous and confused. Oh! that philosophers would learn +that the glory of their intellect consists in its dutiful +subordination to the church! Then would she shine forth more +conspicuously in the sight of all men as the {656} civilizer of +nations. Then, and then only, should we be able to encourage without +reserve or misgiving the speculations of science and the enterprises +of art, and should join with loud voices and full hearts in the ardent +aspirations of the poet: + + Fly, happy happy sails, and bear the Press; + _Fly, happy with the mission of the Cross;_ + Knit land to land, and blowing havenward + With silks, and fruits, and spices, clear of toll, + Enrich the markets of _the golden year_. + +That which delays the golden year, and prevents the knitting of land +to land in the bonds of religious brotherhood, is the want of unity +among nations called Christian. The terrible disruptions effected +under Photins, Luther, and Henry VIII., have rendered the conversion +of the world for the present morally impossible. But if the East and +West were again united under their lawful lord and pope; if Protestant +sects were deprived of regal support, reäbsorbed into the Catholic +body, or so reduced in numerical importance as to be all but inactive +and voiceless; if the vaunted utility of association were duly +exemplified; if European populations were emulous of spiritual +conquests in distant countries; if under the guidance and control of a +common idea each of them launched its missionary ships on the waters +in quick succession; if each town and university sent its quota of +zeal and learning to the glorious work; if missionaries in large +numbers went forth cheered with the apostolic benediction, and on +whatever shore they might converge found other laborers in fields +already white for the harvest, speaking with many tongues of one Lord, +one faith, one baptism--then would the heathen no longer be stupefied +by the feeble front and incongruous claims of those who now call them +to repentance, nor would infidels scoff and jeer at a religion which +has been made the very symbol of disunion; unbelieving nations, +astonished at the strict coincidence of testimony borne by preachers +arriving from every quarter of the globe, would distrust their +prophets, desert their idols, and seek admission into the one +ubiquitous fold. Then, also, the moral and intellectual energies of +European prelates would be no longer engrossed by resisting aggression +and weeding out disaffection nearer home, but would have leisure to +organize missions on a large scale, and to fortify them with every +auxiliary modern art and science can supply. The honor and glory of +civilization would then be given to her to whom it belongs of right; +and the nations, at length disabused of popular fallacies, would +perceive that Protestantism and spurious liberty really hinder the +progress they are supposed to promote. + +------ +{657}{658}{659} + +[ORIGINAL.] + +THE CURSE OF SACRILEGE. + +[In the suburbs of the ancient and curious city of Angers in France is +a beautiful chateau, situated in the midst of extensive and fertile +grounds. The chapel contains some very remarkable pieces of statuary, +now nearly eight hundred years old. The place was formerly a convent +of monks, and wrested from them during the great revolution. The +family into whose possession it came, has ever since been afflicted +with the sudden death and insanity of its members. The death of the +last male heir, a youth of great promise, which occurred but a few +years ago, is described in the following verses.] + + + A youth of twenty summers + Sat at his mother's knee; + Ne'er saw you a youth more noble, + Nor fairer dame than she. + + Half-reclining he swept the lute-strings, + Murmuring an olden rhyme; + While the clock in the castle tower + Rang out a morning chime: + + "In the bright and happy spring-time + Ring the bells merrily; + When the dead leaves fall in autumn, + Then toll the bell for me." + + The face of the lady-mother, + Writhed as with sudden pain: + "Oh! sing not, my son, so sadly, + Choose thou a happier strain." + + Sang the youth, "When the summer sunshine + Falls o'er the lake and lea, + And the corn is springing upward, + Then you'll remember me." + + The matron smiled on the singer: + "My dear and my only one + When I shall not remember, + The light will forget the sun." + + Yet her eyes smiled not, but were standing, + Brimful of glimmering tears, + Tell-tales of secret anguish, + Dead hopes and living fears. + + For he was the heir, and the only + Child of the house of La Barre; + A name that was known for its sorrows, + By all, both near and far. + + Lay in a charming valley + Its rich and fair domain; + But a curse seemed to hang around it, + Worse than the curse of Cain. + + For this was a holy convent + Of monks in olden time; + From God men had dared to wrest it, + Nor recked the awful crime. + + The mild men of God were driven + Houseless and homeless afar: + And he who rifled their cloister, + Became the Lord of La Barre. + + But a curse came down on his household, + That time did not abate: + And ne'er did the mourning hatchment + Pass from the castle gate + + The Lord of La Barre fell suddenly + Dead in his banquet-hall; + And madness seized his first-born, + Bearing the funeral pall. + + Calamity sudden and fearful. + Haunted the sacred place. + Striking the lords and their children, + And blighting their hapless race. + + One is thrown from his saddle, + Dashing his brains on the ground; + One in his bridal chamber. + Dead by his bride is found; + + One is caught by the mill-wheel. + And cruelly torn in twain; + One is lost in the forest, + Ne'er to return again. + + Death-traps for wolves, the herdsmen + Set in the woods with care; + The wolves devour the master, + Caught in the fatal snare. + + Killed by the forkèd lightnings; + Drowned in the flowing Loire; + Crushed by some falling timbers; + Conquered and slain in war. + + Idiots and still-born children, + Come as the first-born heirs. + Those are seized with madness, + Whom death a few years spares. + + Thus did they all inherit + A curse with the rich domain, + Who dared on the holy convent + To lay their hands profane. + + The autumn winds are blowing + Across the lake and lea, + As the youth of twenty summers + Sings at his mother's knee. + + He ceased, and from him casting + His lute upon the floor, + Listened, as sounds from the court-yard + Came through the open door. + + Hearing the dogs' loud barking, + As their keeper his bugle wound; + "To-day I go a hunting," + Said he, "with hawk and hound." + + The rustling of dead leaves only + Heard the Lady of La Barre, + And thought of her lordly husband + Drowned in the flowing Loire. + + The autumn winds were moaning + Among the yellow trees, + "Stay, Ernest," said she sadly, + "My soul is ill at ease. + + "Shadows of dire mischances + Fall on my widowed heart; + I could not live if danger + Thy life from mine should part." + + "Fear not," said he, while laughing + He kissed her sad fair face; + "I hear the hounds' loud baying + All eager for the chase. + + "Over the hill by the river + I'll bring the quarry down, + And homeward pluck the roses + To weave for thee a crown." + + "The rose-crown, my child, will wither, + 'Tis but a passing toy; + But thou art the crown of thy mother-- + Her only life and joy. + + "Follow the hunt to-morrow-- + With me, love, stay to-day; + For dark and sad forebodings + My anxious heart affray." + + The autumn winds are blowing, + The dead leaves downward fall, + The lawn and flowers covering + Like a funeral pall. + + But he heedeth not the warning, + And hies with haste away. + The lady seeks the chapel, + With heavy heart, to pray. + + "May God and his blessed Mother + Spare me my only one. + Yet teach me and strengthen me ever + To say, Thy will be done!" + + Well may the lady tremble, + Hearing the wind again; + The dead leaves are falling in showers + Like to a summer rain. + + Hark! a sound from the court-yard + Blanches the lady's cheek-- + The huntsmen call not surely + In such a fearful shriek! + + Say, "Thy will be done," O lady! + As thou e'en now hast said, + For the last of thy race is lying + Stark in the court-yard, dead. + +------ + +{660} + +Translated from the Spanish + + +PERICO THE SAD; OR, +THE ALVAREDA FAMILY. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +Autumn had shortened the days, and winter was knocking at the door +with fingers of ice. It was the hour when laborers return to their +homes, and the sun casts a last cold glance upon the earth he is +abandoning. + +Perico came slowly, preceded by his ass, and followed by Melampo, who +rivalled his ancient friend and companion in gravity. The latter still +remembered with horror the entry of the French, though six years had +passed since; for the flight of her masters caused her the wildest +gallop she had taken in her whole life. She had not yet recovered from +the fatigue. + +When they entered their street, two little children, brother and +sister, ran to meet Perico, but at the moment they reached him, the +deep and solemn sound of a bell called to prayer. Perico stood still +and uncovered his head. The ass and the dog, that from long habit knew +the sound, stopped also, and the little ones remained immovable. When +their father had concluded the prayers of the mystery of the +annunciation, the children drew near and said-- + +"Your hand, father." + +"May God make you good!" answered Perico, blessing his children. + +The boy, who was impatient to be mounted on the ass, asked his father +why people must be still when the bell rung for prayer. + +"Don't you remember," said his sister Angela, "what Aunt Elvira tells +us, that when it strikes this hour dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, +our guardian angels stand still, and if we go on then, we shall be +alone--without them?" + +"That is true, sister," answered the boy, giving, with all his little +might, a blow to the ass upon which his father had placed him, a blow +of which, fortunately, the patient creature took not the least notice. + +Six years had passed since the occurrence of the sorrowful events we +have related. To make the remembrance of them still more sorrowful, +the unhappy Marcela, who witnessed from her hiding-place the insult to +her {661} father, the terrible vengeance taken by her brother, and the +flight of the latter, had gone mad. + +No tidings of Ventura had ever been received, and all believed that he +was dead. Notwithstanding, in their tenderness for Elvira and their +friendship for Pedro, the others spoke to them in the words of a hope +which did not exist in their own hearts. + +Time, the great dissolvent, in which joys and griefs alike are +lost--as in water disappear both the sugar and the salt--had made +those memories, if not less bitter, at least more endurable. Only from +Pedro's lips, instead of his lively songs and habitual jokes, was +often heard, "My poor son! my poor daughter!" + +Elvira, alone, was excepted from this influence of time. She was +wasting in silence, like those light clouds in the sky, which, instead +of falling to the earth in noisy torrents, rise softly and gradually +until they are lost from sight. She never complained, nor did the name +of Ventura, of him upon whom she had looked as the companion the +church would give her, pass her lips. + +"A worm is gnawing at her heart," said Anna to her son; "the rest do +not see it, but it is not hidden from me." + +"But, mother," he answered, "where do you see it? She complains +perhaps?" + +"No, my son, no: but, Perico, a mother hears the voice of the dumb +daughter," replied Anna with sadness. + +Rita and Perico were happy, because Perico, with his loving heart, his +sweet temper, and his conciliatory character, made the happiness of +both. A year after their marriage, Rita had given birth to twins. On +that occasion, she was at death's door, and owed her life to the +tender care of her husband and his family. She remained for a long +time feeble and ailing, but at the moment in which we take up the +thread of our story, she was entirely restored, and the roses of youth +and health bloomed more brightly than ever upon her countenance. + +When they were reunited that evening, Maria exclaimed: "Blessed +mother, what a fearful storm we had last night! I was so frightened +that my very bed shook with me! I recalled all my sins and confessed +them to God. I prayed so much that I think I must have awakened all +the saints: and I prayed loud, for I have always heard say that the +lightning loses its power from where the voice of praying reaches. To +the Moors! To the Moors! I said to the tempest, go to the Moors, that +they may be converted and tremble at the wrath of God! Not until +day-break, when I saw the rainbow, was I consoled: for it is the sign +God gives to man that he will not punish the world with another flood. +Why do men not fear when they see these warnings of God!" + +"And why would you have them tremble, mother, for a thing which is +natural," said Rita. + +"Natural!" retorted Maria. "Perhaps you will also tell me that +pestilence and war are natural! Do you know what the lightning is? For +I heard a farmer say that it is a fragment of the air set on fire by +the wrath of God. And where does not the air enter? And where is the +place the wrath of God does not reach? And the thunder--the thunder, +said a certain preacher, is the voice of God in his magnificence; and +that God is to be feared above all when it thunders." + +"The rain has been welcome, Mamma Maria, for the ground is thirsty," +said Perico. + +"The ground is always thirsty," observed Rita, "as thirsty as a sot." + +"Father," said Angela, "hear what I sung to-day when I saw the pewets +running to the pools," and the little girl began to sing: + + "Open your windows, God of Christians! + Let the rain come down, + See the Blessed Virgin comes riding + From the inn of the little town; + Riding a horse of snowy whiteness. + Over the fields so brown, + Lighting all the fields with the brightness + Of the glory which shines around. + Blessing the fields, the fields of the king: + Ring from the big church, let all the bells ring!" + +{662} + +Angel, not wishing to let his sister, who was the brighter of the two, +gain the palm--instantly said: "And I, father, sung: + + 'Rain, my God, + I ask it from my heart. + Have pity on me, + For I am little, and I ask for bread.'" + +"Enough, enough," cried Rita, "you are as noisy as two cicadas, and +more tiresome than frogs." + +"May we play a game, mother?" said the boy. + +"Play with the cat's tail," responded Rita. + +"Mamma Maria," said the girl, "I will say the catechism to you, if you +will tell us a story. Now hear me: 'The enemies of the soul are three, +the devil, the world, and the flesh.'" + +"I like that enemy," said the boy. + +"Hush, little one; it don't mean the flesh in the stew." + +"What then?" asked the boy. + +"Learn the words now," answered his grandmother, "and when you know +more, apply what you have learned. For the present, I will tell you +that your flesh, that is to say, your appetite, tempts you to be so +gluttonous, and that gluttony is a mortal sin." + +"They are seven," said the girl quickly, and recited them. + +"I, Mamma Maria," said Angel, "know the Three Persons, the Father who +is God, the Son who is God, and the Holy Ghost, who is a dove." + +"How stupid you are!" exclaimed his mother. + +"Daughter," remarked Maria, "no one is born instructed. Child," she +continued, "the Dove is a symbol, the Holy Spirit is God, the same as +the Father and the Son." + +Each child pulling at its grandmother as it spoke: + +"I know the commandments of God," said one. + +"And I, those of the church," said the other. + +"I the sacraments." + +"And I the gifts of the Holy Spirit." + +"I--" + +"Enough, and too much," exclaimed Rita; "you are going to say the +whole catechism; or perhaps this is an infant school! What a pleasant +diversion!" + +"Is it possible," said Maria, grieved, for she had been in her glory +listening to the children, "is it possible, Rita, that you do not love +to hear the word of God, and that it does not delight you in the +mouths of your children? I remember how I cried for joy, the first +time you said the whole of Our Father." + +"That is so," said Rita; "you are capable of crying at a fandango." + +The poor mother did not answer; but, turning to the children, said: "I +am so pleased with you because you know the catechism so well, that I +am going to tell you the prettiest story I know." + +The children seated themselves on a low bench in front of their +grandmother, who began her story thus: + +"When the angel warned the holy patriarch Joseph to flee into Egypt, +the saint got his little ass and set the mother and child upon it. +Then they started on their journey through woods and briery fields. +Once, when they were in the thickest part of a forest, the lady was +afraid because the way was so dark and lonesome. By and by they came +to a cave. Out of it ran a band of robbers and surrounded the holy +family. When the mother and child were going to get down from the ass, +the captain of the band, whose name was Demas, looked at the child; as +he looked, his heart smote him, and he turned to his companions and +said: 'Whoever touches as much as a thread of this lady's garment will +have me to do with,' and then he said to the holy pair: 'The night is +coming on stormy; follow me, and I will shelter you.' They went with +the robber, and he gave them to eat and drink, and the holy pair +accepted what he offered them, for God himself receives the worship of +all the bad as well as {663} the good. And for this reason, children, +never cease to pray, even though you should be in mortal sin; for this +robber, when at last he was taken and condemned to die, found +repentance and pardon on the cross itself, which served him for +expiation, as it served our Lord for sacrifice. He was converted and +was the first of all to enter into glory, as Christ promised him when +he was dying for him." Meantime, the wind howled without in prolonged +gusts. The doors shook, moved by an invisible hand. The old +orange-tree murmured in the court, as if remonstrating with the wind +for disturbing its calm. + +"Listen," said Perico, "the very nettles will be swept from the +ground." + +"And how it rains!" added Pedro. "The clouds are torn to bits. The +river is going to overflow the fields." + +"Did you see how the clouds ran this afternoon?" said Angela to her +brother. "They looked like greyhounds." + +"Yes," answered the boy, "and where were they going?" + +"To the sea for water." + +"Is there so much water in the sea?" + +"Yes indeed, and more than there is in Uncle Pedro's pond." + +"The voice of the wind seems to me like the voice of the evil spirit, +that comes leading fear by the hand," said Maria. + +"You are always frightened, mother," remarked Rita. "I don't know when +your spirit will rest. Look here, lazy-bones," she proceeded, giving a +push to the boy who had reclined against her, "lean upon what you have +eaten." + +The child, being half asleep, lost his balance. Elvira gave a cry, and +Perico, springing forward, caught him in his arms. Anna dropped her +distaff, but took it up again without a word. + +"If you ever lose your son," said Pedro, indignant, "you will not weep +for him as I do for mine. You have that advantage over me." + +"She is so quick, so hasty," said Maria, always ready to excuse and +slow to blame, "that she keeps me in hot water." + +"So, then, Mamma Maria," Perico hastened to say, "yon are afraid of +everything--and witches?" + +"No; oh! no, my son! The church forbids the belief in witches and +enchanters. I fear those things which God permits to punish men, and, +above all, when they are supernatural." + +"Are there any such things? Have you seen any?" asked Rita. + +"If there are any? And do you doubt that there are extraordinary +things?" + +"Not at all. One of them is the day you do not preach me a sermon. But +the supernatural I don't believe in. I am like Saint Thomas." + +"And you glory in it! It is a wonder you do not say also that you are +like Saint Peter in that in which he failed!" + +"But, madam, have you seen anything of the kind, or is it only because +you can swallow everything, like a shark?" + +"It is the same, to all intents, as if I had seen it." + +"Aunt, what was it?" asked Elvira. + +"My child," said the good old woman, turning toward her niece, "in the +first place, that which happened to the Countess of Villaoran. Her +ladyship herself told it to me when we were superintending her estate +of Quintos. This lady had the pious custom of having a mass said for +condemned criminals at the very hour they were being executed. When +the infamous Villico was in those parts, committing so much iniquity, +she allowed herself to say that if he should be taken, she would not +send to have a mass said for him, as she had for others. And when he +was executed, she kept her word. + +"Not long alter, one night when she was sleeping quietly, she was +awakened by a pitiful voice near the head of her bed, calling her by +name. She sat up in bed terrified, but saw {664} nothing, though the +lamp was burning on the table. Presently she heard the same voice, +even more pitiful than at first, calling her from the yard, and before +she had fairly recovered from her surprise, she heard it a third time, +and from a great distance, calling her name. She cried out so loudly +that those who were in the house ran to her room, and found her pale +and terrified. But no one else had heard the voice. + +"On the following day, hardly were the candles lighted in the churches +when a mass was being offered for the poor felon, and the countess, on +her knees before the altar was praying with fervor and penitence, for +the clemency of God, which is not like that of men, excludes none. And +now Rita, what do you think?" + +"I think she dreamed it." + +"Goodness, goodness! what incredulity," said Uncle Pedro. "Rita will +be like that Tucero, who, the preachers say, separated from the +church." + +"Ave Maria! Do not say that, Pedro," exclaimed Maria, "even in +exaggeration! Mercy! you may well say, what perverseness, for she +talks so just to be contrary." + +A noise in the direction of the door which opened into the back-yard, +caused Maria's lips to close suddenly. + +"What is that?" she said. + +"Nothing, Mamma Maria," answered Perico, laughing; "what would it be? +The wind which goes about to-night moving everything." + +"Mother," said Angela, "hold me in your lap, as father does Angel, for +I am afraid." + +"This is too much," exclaimed Rita, who was in bad humor. "Go along +and sit on the lap of earth, and don't come back till you bring +grandchildren." + +"I should like to know," said Pedro, "if those who laugh at that which +others fear have never felt dread." + +"Perico! Perico!" cried Maria, in terror, "there is a noise in the +yard." + +"Mamma Maria, you are excited and frightened. Don't you hear that it +is the water in the gutter?" + +"I, for my part," said Pedro, in a low voice, as if to himself, "ever +since there was a stain of blood in my house--" + +"Pedro! Pedro! are we always to go back to that? Why will you make +yourself wretched? Of what use is it to return to the past, for which +there is no remedy?" said Anna. + +"The truth is, Anna, what I suffer at times overwhelms me, and I must +give it vent. Often at night, when I am alone in my house, it falls +upon me. Anna, believe me, many a night, when all is still and sleep +flies from me, I see him; yes, I see him--the grenadier my son slew. I +see him just as I saw him alive, in his grey capote and fur cap, rise +out of the well and come into the room where he was killed, to look +for the stains of his own blood. I sec him before my eyes, tall, +motionless, terrible." + +At this moment the door opened, and a figure, tall, motionless, +terrible, with a grey capote and a grenadier's cap stood upon the +threshold. + +All remained for an instant confounded and fixed in their places. + +"God protect us!" exclaimed Maria. Angel clung to his father's breast, +Angela to the skirts of her grandmother. + +"Ventura!" murmured Elvira, as her eyes closed and her head fell upon +her mother's bosom. + +The woman for whom there had been no forgetfulness, had recognized +him. + +Pedro rose impetuously and would have fallen, the poor old man not +having strength to sustain himself; but Ventura, who had thrown off +his cap and capote, sprung forward and caught him in his arms. The +scene which followed, a scene of confusion, of broken words, of +exclamations of surprise and delight, of tears and fervent thanks to +heaven, is more easily comprehended than described. + +When Ventura had freed himself from the embrace of his father, who was +long in undoing his arms from {665} the neck of the son whom he could +hardly persuade himself he held in them, he fixed his eyes upon +Elvira. She was still supported by her mother, who held to her +nostrils a handkerchief wet with vinegar. But she was no longer the +Elvira he had left at his departure. Pale, attenuated, changed, she +appeared as if bidding farewell to life. Ventura's brilliant eyes +became softened and saddened with an expression of deep feeling, and, +with the frank sincerity of a countryman, he said to her: + +"Have you been sick, Elvira? You do not look like yourself." + +"Now she will be better," exclaimed Pedro, in whom joy had awakened +some of the old festive teasing humor. "Your absence, Ventura, and not +hearing from you, nothing less, has brought her to this. Why, in +heaven's name, did you not send us a letter, to tell us where you +were?" + +"Why, our sergeant wrote at least six for me," replied Ventura, "and +besides, I have been in France, I have been a prisoner. All that is +long to tell--But how well you look, Rita," he said, regarding the +latter, who, from the moment he entered, had not taken her eyes from +the gallant youth, whom the moustache, the uniform, and the military +bearing became so well. "Bless me! but you have become a fine woman! +The good care Perico takes of you--and you Perico, always digging? Are +these your children? How handsome they are! God bless them! Hey! come +here, I am not a Frenchman nor a bluebeard." + +Ventura sat down to caress the children. Maria, coming behind him at +this moment, caught his head in her hands, and covered his face with +tears and kisses--Ventura in the mean while saying, "Maria, how much +you have prayed for me! I suppose you have made a hundred novenas, and +more than a thousand promises." + +"Yes, my son, and to-morrow I shall sell my best hen, to have said in +Saint Anna's chapel the thanksgiving mass I have promised." + +"Aunt Anna is the one who has nothing to say," observed Ventura. "Are +you not glad to see me, madam?" + +"Yes my son, yes; I was minding my Elvira. God knows," she continued, +observing the pallid countenance of her child, "how glad I am of your +return, and what thanks I give him for it, if it is for the best." + +"And why not," exclaimed Pedro, "for the best? for all except my kids +and your fowls, which are going to give up the ghost within a month, +the time it will take to publish the bans." + +"Don't be so hasty," answered Anna, smiling, "a wedding, neighbor, is +not a fritter to be turned, tossed, and fried in a moment." + +"Well, 'every owl to his own olive,'" said Pedro after a while. "Good +people, there is a wicket in the street that is tired of being +solitary." + +"To-night, Uncle Pedro," said Rita, laughing, "the horrors will go to +the bottom of the well with the Frenchman, never to return." + +"Amen, amen. I hope so," responded the good old man. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +The next evening, Ventura brought with him to their reunion a small +black water-dog, called Tambor. Never before had a strange dog been +permitted at one of those meetings, so that he had hardly entered, +wagging his tail, well washed, well combed, and with all the +confidence of an exquisite, when Melampo, who held these graces to be +of very little consequence, and an idler in lowest estimation, flew at +him with might and main, and with a single blow of his paw flattened +the creature; but without the remotest ambition to affect in this +action, either the attitude or the air of the lion of Waterloo. + +"In the first place," said Perico, "will you tell me, Ventura, how you +managed to appear here yesterday, as if you had leaked through the +roof, without any one's opening the door to you?" + +{666} + +"Well, it is difficult to guess," answered Ventura. "When I arrived I +went to the house, and Aunty Curra, to whom my father gives a home for +taking care of him, opened the door, and to get here sooner, and take +you all by surprise, I jumped over the wall of the yard, as I used to +when I was a boy." + +"I was sure last night," observed Maria, "that I heard the door of the +enclosure, and some one walking in the yard." + +"Now,"' said Perico, "tell us what has happened to you. Have you been +wounded?' + +"He has been wounded," cried Uncle Pedro. "Look at his breast, and you +win see a hole, which is the scar left by a ball that he received +there, and that did not lay him dead, thanks to this button which +deadened its force. See how it is flattened and hollowed out like the +pan of a fire-lock. Look at his arm; look at the wound--" + +"And what matter, father," interrupted Ventura, "since they are cured +now?" + +"When I ran," he continued, "I took my course down river, reached +Sanlácar, and embarked for Cadiz. There I enlisted in the regiment of +guards commanded by the Duke del Infantado. I struck up a friendship +with a young man of noble family, who was serving as a private, and we +loved each other like brothers. We soon embarked for Tarifa, for the +purpose of approaching the French in the rear, while the English +attacked them in front. The result was the battle of Barrosa, from +which the French fled to Jerez, and we took possession of their camp. + +"In the midst of the fight, I said to my friend, 'Come, let us take +from that Frenchman the eagle he carries so proudly, it is continually +vexing my eyes, come;' and without recommending ourselves to God, we +threw ourselves upon the bearer, killed him, and took the ugly bird; +but as we turned we found ourselves surrounded by Frenchmen, friends +of the eagle. 'Comrades,' said we, 'it's of no use; as for the bird, +he is caged and shall not go out even if Pepe Botellas [Footnote +169] or Napoleon himself, the big thief, should come for him.' + + [Footnote 169: Pepe Botellas, Bottle Joe; Joseph Napoleon was so + called by the people, because, they said, he used to get drunk.] + +"We set it up against a wild olive, and placed ourselves before it, +and now, we said, Come and get him--and they came, for those demons, +the worse the cause the more impetuous they are. They killed my poor +friend, and had nearly killed me, for they were many. What I felt at +the thought of losing the bird! but it was the will of heaven that it +should never sing the _mambrui_ [Footnote 170] in French, for our +men came and drove them back. They conducted me with my trophy before +the colonel, who said that I had behaved well, and should receive the +cross of San Fernando, for having captured the eagle. 'I did not +capture it, my colonel,' I answered, 'it was my friend, the young +noble, who is killed. And I fainted. When came to, I found myself in +the hospital and without the cross." + + [Footnote 170: Mambrui, a humorous military song, popular among the + Spanish soldiers.] + +"That was your own fault," said Rita. "Why did you tell the colonel it +was not you?" + +Ventura looked at her as if he could not comprehend what she was +saying. + +"You did your duty," said Pedro. + +A tear ran down Elvira's cheek. + +"I was hardly convalescent when we embarked for Huelra, and I found +myself in the battle of Albuera against the division of Marshal Soult. +I was soon after taken prisoner; made my escape, and joined the army +of Granada, commanded by the Duke del Paryne, in which I remained, +pursuing the enemy beyond the Pyrenees. Then I returned to Madrid, +where I have been waiting until now for my dismissal." + +{667} + +"Goodness! Ventura," said Maria, in astonishment, "you have been +further than the storks fly!" + +"I--no," answered Ventura, "but I know one, and he indeed, he had been +with General La Romana, far in the north, where the ground is covered +with snow so deep that people are sometimes buried under it." + +"Maria Santissima! said Maria, shuddering. + +"But they are good people, they do not carry knives." + +"God bless them!" exclaimed Maria. + +"In that land there is no oil, and they eat black bread." + +"A poor country for me," observed Anna, "for I must always eat the +best bread, if I eat nothing else." + +"What kind of _gazpachos_ [Footnote 171] can they make with black +bread, and without oil?" asked Maria, quite horrified. + + [Footnote 171: Gazpacho. Dish made of bread, oil, onions, vinegar, + salt and red-pepper mixed together in water.] + +"They do not eat gazpacho," replied Ventura. + +"Then what do they eat?" + +"They eat potatoes and milk,", he answered. + +"Much good may it do them, and benefit their stomachs." + +"The worst is, Aunt Maria, that in all that land there are neither +monks nor nuns." + +"What are you telling me, my son?" + +"What you hear. There are very few churches, and those look like +hospitals that have been plundered, for they are without chapels, +without altars, without images, and without the blessed sacrament." + +"Mercy, mercy!" exclaimed all, except Maria, who remained as if turned +to stone with surprise. But presently crossing her hands, she +exclaimed, with satisfied fervor. + +"Ah my sunshine! Ah my white bread! My church! My blessed Mother! My +country, my faith, and my God in his sacrament! Happy a thousand +times, I, who have been born, and through divine mercy, shall die +here! Thank God, my son, that yon did not go to that country, a land +of heretics! How dreadful!" + +"And is heresy catching, mother, like the itch?" asked Rita +ironically. + +"I do not say that, God forbid," answered the good Maria; "but--" + +"Everything is catching, except beauty," said Pedro, "and one is +better off in his own country. I will bet my hands that those who have +been there, will bring us nothing good." + +"What do not the poor soldiers have to pass through!" sighed Elvira. + +"That must be the reason why I have always been so fond of them," +added Maria. "That, and because they defend the faith of Christ. And +therefore, I am also very devoted to San Fernando, that pious and +valiant leader. I have him framed in my parlor, and around him on the +wall, I have stuck little paper soldiers, thinking it would be +pleasing to the saint, who all his life saw himself surrounded by +soldiers. When Rita was about twelve years old, I went to Sevilla, and +she gave me a shilling to buy her a little comb. I passed by the shop +of an old man who had a lot of little paper soldiers exposed for sale. +What a guard for my saint, I thought; but my quarters were all spent. +I had nothing left but Rita's shilling. The price of the set was a +shilling. Go along, said I to myself, it is better that Rita should do +without the bauble than my saint without his guard; and I bought them. +I told Rita, and it was the truth, that my money did not hold out. The +next day when I was taking them out to stick them up around the +picture of the king, Rita came into the room. 'So then,' she said, +'you had money enough to buy these dirty soldiers, and not enough for +my little comb,' and she snatched them from my hands to throw them out +of the window. 'Child,' I screamed, 'you are throwing my heart into +the street with the soldiers!' And seeing that she paid me no +attention, I caught up the broom and beat her. The only time I ever +beat her in my life." + +{668} + +"It would have been better for you," said Pedro, "if you had left the +marks of your fingers upon her sometimes." + +"Who can please you, Uncle Pedro?" said Rita. "My mother erred in not +chastising her child, and I err in not spoiling mine." + +"Daughter!" replied Pedro, "neither Hei! till they run away, nor Whoa! +till they stop short." + +"But since you like soldiers so much, mother," proceeded Rita, "why +did you take such trouble to prevent my cousin Miguel from becoming +one?" + +"I love soldiers because they suffer and pass through so much, and for +the same reason, I wished to save my nephew." + +"How I laughed then!" continued Rita, directing her conversation to +Ventura. "Her grace burned lights to all the saints while the lots +were being drawn. As she had not candlesticks, she stuck empty shells +to the walls with cement; put wicks in them; filled them with oil, and +began to pray. While she was praying, in came Miguel's mother, and +told her that he had been drafted. My mother, on hearing that, put out +the lights, as if to say to the saints, 'Stay in the dark now, I need +you no longer!'" + +"How you talk, Rita," answered the good Maria. "I trust that God does +not so judge our hearts. I resigned myself, my daughter. I resigned +myself, because he had made known his pleasure, and when God will not, +the saints cannot." + + + +CHAPTER X. + +The joy of Elvira was as brief as it had been keen. What can escape +the eyes of one who loves? Is it not known that there are things, +which, like the wind of Guadarrama, though scarce a breath, yet kill. +Before either Rita or Ventura had acknowledged even to their own +consciousness, the mutual attraction which they exercised upon each +other, Elvira was offering to God, for the second time, the pangs of +her lost love. This time, however, without a remote hope. The prudent +and patient girl looked upon a rupture as the sure forerunner of some +catastrophe, and, like a martyr, endured without daring to repulse +them, the evidences of an affection as pale and feeble as she was +herself; an affection that was vanishing before the vivid flame of a +new love, which already sparkled, active, brilliant, and beautiful +like the object that inspired it. While the visits at the grating +became every night colder and less' prolonged, there was no occasion +that did not, by gesture, look, or word, bring into contact those two +beings, who, like moths, took pleasure in approaching the flame, drawn +by an instinctive impulse, which they obeyed, but did not pause to +define; of which no one warned them, because among the people, a +married woman unfaithful to her duties, or a lover neglectful of his, +is an anomaly; and one which, in the family whose history we are +relating, would have been looked upon as incredible to the point of +impossibility. But Rita acknowledged no rein, and the life of a +soldier had been a school of evil habits to Ventura. One day Perico, +on setting out for the field, found Elvira in the yard, and said to +her: + +"Here is money, sister, to buy yourself colored dresses. You have +fulfilled your promise to wear the habit of our Lady of Sorrows till +Ventura came back, and now I wish to see your face, your +dress--everything about you gay." + +Elvira answered, with difficulty repressing her tears: + +"Keep your money, brother, every day I feel myself worse. It is better +for me to think of making my peace with God, than of buying wedding +clothes, or of changing the colors which are to wrap me in the +coffin." + +{669} + +"Do not say that, sister!" exclaimed Perico. "You break my heart! It +has become a habit with you to be melancholy. When you and Ventura are +as happy as Rita and I, when you have two little ones like these of +ours, to occupy you, your apprehensions will fly away. Come," he +added, catching the children, "come and play with your aunt." + +Elvira's eyes followed her brother. Her heart was torn with grief; +grief all the more agonized and profound for being repressed. She +considered that a complaint from her would be like an indiscreet cry +of alarm at an inevitable misfortune. + +"Aunt," said Angel, "nothing can keep Melampo when father goes." + +"He does what he ought, like the good dog he is," answered Elvira. + +"And why is he called Melampo?" the child continued, with that zeal +for asking questions which older people ridicule, instead of +respecting and encouraging. + +"He is called so," answered Elvira, "because Melampo is the name of +one of the dogs that went to Bethlehem with the shepherds to see the +child Jesus. There were three of them, Melampo, Cubilon, and Tobina, +and the dogs that bear these names never go mad." + +"Aunt," said Angela, running after a little bird, "I can't catch this +swallow." + +"That is not a swallow. Swallows do not come till spring, and these +you must never catch nor molest." + +"Why not, aunt?" + +"Because they are friends to man, they confide in him and make their +nests under his eaves. They are the birds that pulled the thorns out +of the Saviour's crown when he hung upon the cross." + +At this moment Angel fell and began to cry. Rita rushed impetuously +out of her room and snatched him up, exclaiming: + +"What has he done to himself? what is the matter with mother's glory?" +Wiping his face, which was dirty, with her apron, she continued: + +"What is the matter? Sweet little face, covered with mud. Bless his +pretty eyes and his mouth, and his poor little hands!" + +And covering him with kisses, passionate caresses, she took him and +his sister into her mother's house. Returning presently she went into +the back-yard to wash. + +It has already been said that this yard was next to that of uncle +Pedro, separated from it by a low wall. + +Rita according to the popular custom began to sing. + +Among the people of Andalucia, one can hardly be found whose memory is +not a treasury of couplets; and these are so varied that it would be +difficult to suggest an idea, for the expression of which a suitable +verse would not immediately be found. + +A fine voice, well modulated and dear, answered Rita from the +adjoining yard; in this manner a musical colloquy was carried on, +concluded by the male voice in this couplet, which indicated the wings +that the preceding one had given to his desires: + + "With no loss of time, + To succeed I intend; + Without sigh to the air, + Or complaint to the wind." + +In the mean time Elvira sat sewing beside her mother. Her sweet and +placid countenance betrayed none of the pain and anguish of her heart. +Nevertheless, Anna looked at her with the penetrating eyes of a +mother, and thought, "Will the hopes fail which I placed in Ventura's +return? Does our Lord want her for himself?" + +At this moment the children rushed in, wild with delight. + +"Mamma Anna! Aunt Elvira!" they shouted. "Uncle Pedro says the ass had +a little colt last night. She is in the stable with it, and we did not +know it here. Come and see it! come and see it!" + +And one pulling at the grandmother and the other at the aunt, they +went, to the yard and threw the door wide open. + +{670} + +What a two-edged dagger for the heart of Anna, the honorable woman, +the loving mother! Ventura was there with Rita! + +Quick as lightning Ventura stepped upon the wheel of a cart which +stood close to the wall, and with one spring disappeared. + +Rita, enraged, continued her washing, and with unparalleled effrontery +began to sing: + + "No mother-in-law plagued Eve; + No sister-in-law worried Adam; + Nor caused their souls to grieve, + For in Eden they never had them." + +The children had run on to the stable without stopping. Anna led her +daughter, almost fainting, into the house, and there upon the bosom of +her mother, from whom the cause of her grief was no longer a secret, +Elvira burst into sobs. + +"And you knew it," said her mother; "silent martyr to prudence. Weep, +yes, weep, for tears are like the blood which flows from wounds, and +renders them less mortal. I knew what she was and warned him. I knew +that reprobation must follow the union of kindred blood, and I told +him so. He would not listen. It would have been better to let him go +to the war. But the heart errs as well as the understanding." + +In the mean time the impudent woman went on singing: + + "Mothers-in-law, and sisters-in-law, + See a cargo passing go; + What a famous load 'twould be. + For Satan's regions down below." + + +CHAPTER XI. + +After a night of sleepless anguish, Anna rose, apparently more +tranquil; drawing some slight hope from the determination she had +taken to speak with Rita; show her the precipice toward which she was +running blindly, and persuade her to recede. + +Anna had a dignity that would have impressed any one in whom the noble +quality of respect had not been suffocated by pride--the worst enemy +of man because the most daring; no other like it elevates itself in +the presence of virtue; no other is so obstinate and so lordly; no +other so hides perversity under forms of goodness; no other so +falsifies ideas and qualifies and condemns as servile that sentiment +of respect which entered into the world with the first benediction of +God. Pride sometimes wishes to elevate itself into dignity, but +without success, for dignity never seeks to set itself up at the cost +of another, but leaves and maintains everything in its own place; its +attitude being even more noble when it honors than when it is honored. +Dignity owes its place neither to riches nor knowledge, and least of +all is it indebted to pride. It is the simple reflection of an +elevated soul which feels its strength. It is natural, like the flush +of health; not put on like the color of those who paint. But there are +beings who place themselves above everything else, and rest with +portentous composure upon a fake and insecure base, parading an +intrepidity and an arrogance which they do not assume who rest on the +firm rock of infallible justice and eternal truth. Rita, treading a +crooked path with fearless step and serene countenance, was one of +these beings. + +The good sense of the villager, who felt profoundly what we have +expressed, and understood perfectly the character of both women, +defined it better in their concise laconism when, in speaking of Anna, +they said, "Aunt Anna teaches without talking;" and of Rita, "She +fears neither God nor the devil." + +Rita was sewing when Anna entered. The latter deliberately drew the +bolt of the door and sat down facing her daughter-in-law. + +"You already know, Rita," she said calmly, "That I was never pleased +with your marriage." + +"And have you come to receive my thanks?" + +Without noticing the question Anna continued: + +"I had penetrated your character." + +"It was not necessary to be a seer to do that," replied Rita, "I am +perfectly open and frank. I say what I think." + +{671} + +"The evil is not in saying what you think, but in thinking what you +say." + +"It is plain that it would be better for me to play the dead fox, or +still water, like some who appear flakes of snow, but are in reality +grains of salt." + +This was a fling at Elvira which Anna fully understood, but of which +she took no notice, and proceeded. + +"Notwithstanding, I was deceived. I had not entirely fathomed you." + +"Go on," said Rita, "there is a squall to-day." + +"I never thought that what has come to pass would happen." + +"Now it escapes and rains pitchforks," said Rita. + +"Since," proceeded Anna, "you do not fear to deceive my son--" + +"Ho, is that the matter?" said Rita coolly. + +"And kill my poor daughter--" + +"That will do," interrupted Rita, "there is where the shoe pinches; +because Ventura does not want to marry a spectre, that to go out has +to ask permission of the gravedigger, I must answer for it. And for no +other reason than because he is gay and likes better to jest with one +who is cheerful like me than to drink herb-tea with her, can I help +it?" + +Anna allowed Rita to conclude, her countenance showing no alteration +except a mortal paleness. + +"Rita," she said, when the latter had finished, "a woman cannot be +false to her marriage vows with impunity." + +"What are you saying!" exclaimed Rita, springing to her feet and +throwing away her work, her cheeks and eyes on fire. "What have you +said, madam? I fake to my marriage vows? To that which your eyes did +not see you have brought in your hand! I false! I! You have always +borne me ill-will, like a mother-in-law in fact, and a bad +mother-in-law, but I never knew before that the saint-eaters bore +_such_ testimony." + +"I do not say that you are so," replied Anna, in the same grave and +moderate tone which she had observed from the beginning, "but that you +are in the way, that you are going to be false if God does not prevent +it by opening your eyes." + +"Now, as formerly, and always a prophetess, Jonah in person, and" (she +added between her teeth) "may the whale swallow you also." + +"Yes, Rita, yes," said Anna, "and I have come--" + +"To threaten me?" asked Rita, with an air of bold defiance. + +"No, Rita, no, my daughter; I have come to beg of you in the name of +God, for the love of my son, for the sake of your children, and for +your own sake, to consider what you are doing, to examine your heart +while there is yet time." + +"Did Perico send you?" + +"No, my dear son suspects nothing, God forbid that we should awaken a +sleeping lion." + +"Well, then, why do you put yourself into so wide a garment? Go along! +The one who is being hanged does not feel it but the witness feels it! +Perico, madam, is not and never has been jealous; neither does he +suspect the fingers of his guests, or go in quest of trouble. He is no +dirty hypocrite, crying to heaven because people joke, and he does not +bully because somebody draws a few buckets of water for his wife when +she is washing. Do you think that I shall lose my soul for that?" + +"Rita, Rita, do not trifle with men." + +"Nor you with women. Good heavens! it would seem that I am +scandalizing the town." + +"Consider, Rita," continued Anna with increased severity, "that with +men an affront is often the cause of bloodshed." + +"You would bathe in rose-water," responded Rita "if matters seemed to +be running a little toward the fulfilment of those predictions of +yours about _kindred blood not harmonizing_, and others of the same +kind, by which you wished to prevent your son from marrying; and you +were disappointed; {672} and you will be now if you attempt, as I see +you are attempting, to make trouble between us. I know what I am +doing; Perico is a lover of quiet, and knows the wife he has. Leave us +in peace, and we will live so, if you do not heat your son's skull by +your meddling; you take care of the wedding finery of your daughter, +the flower of the family." + +At this string of taunts and insults, the prudent long-suffering of +that respectable matron, wavered for an instant; but the angel of +patience that God sends to women from the moment they become mothers, +to help them bear their crosses, vanquished, and Anna went out, +looking at Rita with a sad smile, in which there was as much or more +compassion than contempt. + +The worthy woman remained in a state of depression and anguish, on +account of the failure of the step she had taken, and determined to +open her heart to Pedro, in order to have him send his son away. +Finally there was a guard wanting at the estate on which Ventura had +served, and he was called to fill the place. This absence, though +interrupted by frequent visits to the village, gave some respite to +the afflicted Anna, who said to herself, "a day of life is life." + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +In the mean time the happy Christmas holidays arrived. They had +arranged for the children a beautiful birth-place, which occupied the +whole front of the parlor, covering it with aromatic pistachio, +rosemary, lavender, and other odorous plants and leaves. Perico +brought these things from the field with all the pleasure of a lover +bringing flowers to his bride. + +On Christmas day, Perico heard mass early, and went to take a walk to +his wheat-field, having been told that there were goats in the +neighborhood. + +He returned home about ten o'clock, and found the children alone. + +"How glad we are, father, that you have come," they shouted, running +joyfully toward him. "They have all gone and left us." + +"Where then are Mamma Anna, and Aunt Elvira?" + +"They went to high mass." + +"Who staid with you?" + +"Mother." + +"And where is she?" + +"How do we know? We were in the parlor with her grace, dancing before +the birth-place. Ventura came in, and mother told us to go somewhere +else with the music, for it made her head ache, and when we were going +out Ventura told her, I heard it, father, that she did right to put +the door between, for the little angels of God were the devil's little +witnesses. Is it true, father, are we the devil's little witnesses?" + +To whom has it not happened, at some time in his life, in great or in +less important circumstances, that a single word has been the key to +open and explain; the torch to illuminate the present and the past; to +bring out of oblivion and light up a train of circumstances and +incidents which had transpired unperceived, but which now unite, to +form an opinion, to fix a conviction or to root a belief? Such was the +effect upon Perico of the words, which the decree of expiation seemed +to have put into the mouth of innocence. + +Late, but terrible, the truth presented itself to the eyes which good +faith had kept closed, and doubt took possession of the heart so +healthy and so shielded by honor that a suspicion had never entered +it. + +"Father, father!" cried the children, seeing him tremble and turn +pale. Perico did not hear them. + +"Mamma Anna," they exclaimed, as the latter entered, "hurry, father is +sick!" + +{673} + +As he heard his mother enter, Perico turned his perplexed eyes toward +her, and seemed to read again in her severe countenance the terrible +sentence she had once pronounced upon a future from which her loving +foresight would have preserved him: "A bad daughter will be a bad +wife." Overwhelmed, he rushed out of the house, muttering a pretext +for his flight which no one understood. + +Anna put her head out of the window, and felt relieved as she saw that +he went toward the fields. + +"Could any one have told him that goats have broken into the wheat?" + +"It is very likely, mother; he suspected it yesterday," answered +Elvira. But dinner-time came, and Perico did not appear. + +It was strange, on Christmas day; but to country people, who have no +fixed hours, it was not alarming. + +In the evening Maria arrived at the usual time. + +"Did Ventura not come to the village to-day?" asked Anna. + +"Yes," answered Pedro, "but there is an entertainment, and his friends +carried him off. He has always been so fond of dancing that he would +at any time leave his dinner, for a fandango." + +"And Rita," said Elvira, "was she not at your house. Aunt Maria?" + +"She came there, my daughter, but wanted to go with a neighbor to the +entertainment. I told her she had better stay at home, but as she +never minds me--" + +"And you told her right, Maria," added Pedro, "an honest woman's place +is in the house." + +They were oppressed and silent when Perico abruptly entered. + +The light was so deadened by the lamp-shade that they did not perceive +the complete transformation of his face. Dark lines, which appeared +the effect of long days of sickness, encircled his burning eyes, and +his lips were red and parched like those of a person in a fever. He +threw a rapid glance around, and abruptly asked, "Where is Rita?" + +All remained silent; at length Maria said timidly, + +"My son, she went for a little while to the feast with a neighbor--she +must be here soon--she took it into her head--and as it was Christmas +day--" + +Without answering a word, Perico turned suddenly, and left the room. +His mother rose quickly and followed, but did not overtake him. + +"I tell you, Maria," said Pedro, "that Perico ought to beat her well. +I would not say a word to stop him." + +"Don't talk so, Pedro," answered Maria, "Perico is not the one to +strike a woman. My poor little girl! we shall see. What harm is there +in giving two or three hops? Old folks, Pedro, should not forget that +they have been young." + +At this moment Anna entered, trembling. + +"Pedro," she said, "go to the feast!" + +"I?" answered Pedro; "you are cool! I am out of all patience with that +same feast. If Perico warms his wife's ribs, he will be well employed; +she shall not dry her tears upon my pocket-handkerchief." + +"Pedro, go to the feast!" said Anna again, but this time with such an +accent of distress, that Pedro turned his head and sat staring at her. + +Anna caught him by the arm, obliged him to rise, drew him aside, and +spoke a few rapid words to him in a low voice. + +The old man as he listened gave a half-suppressed cry, clasped his +hands across his forehead, caught up his hat and hastily left the +house. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +Ventura and Rita were dancing at the feast, animated by that which +mounts to heads wanting in age or wanting in sense; by that which +blinds the eyes of reason, silences prudence, and puts respect to +flight; that is to say, wine; a love entirely material, a voluptuous +dance, executed without restraint, amid foolish drunken applauses. + +{674} + +In truth they were a comely pair. Rita moved her charming head, +adorned with flowers, and tossed her person to and fro with that +inimitable grace of her province, which is at will modest or free. Her +black eyes shone like polished jet, and her fingers agitated the +castanets in defiant provocation. She had in Ventura a partner well +suited to her. Never was the fandango danced with more grace and +sprightliness. + +The excited singers improvised (according to custom) couplets in +praise of the brilliant pair: + + "Throw roses, red roses, + The belle of the ball, + For her beauty and grace + She merits them all + And to-night in the feast, + By public acclaim. + To her and Ventura + Is given the palm." + +During the last changes when the clappings and cheers were redoubled, +Perico arrived and stopped upon the threshold. + +Occupied as all were with the dance, no one noticed his arrival, and +Ventura conducting Rita to a room where there were refreshments passed +close beside him as he stood in shadow, without being aware of his +presence. As they passed he heard words between them which confirmed +the whole extent of his misfortune; all the infamy of the wife he +loved so fondly, of the mother of his children; all the treachery of a +friend and brother. + +The blow was so terrible that the unhappy man remained for a moment +stunned; but recovering himself, he followed them. + +Rita stood before a small mirror arranging the flowers that adorned +her head. + +"Withered," said Ventura, "why do you put on roses? Is it not known +that they always die of envy on the head of a handsome woman?" + +"Look here, Ventura," said one of his friends, "you appear to like the +forbidden fruit better than any other." + +"I," responded Ventura, "like good fruit though it be forbidden." + +"That is an indignity," said a friend of Perico's. + +One of those present took the speaker by the arm, and said to him, as +he drew him aside. + +"Hush, man! don't you see that he is drunk? Who gave you a candle for +this funeral? What is it to you if Perico, who is the one interested, +consents?" + +"Who dares to say that Perico Alvareda consents to an indignity?" said +the latter presenting himself in the middle of the room, as pale as if +risen from a bier. + +At the sound of her husband's voice, Rita slid like a serpent among +the bystanders and disappeared. + +"He comes in good time to look after his wife," said some hair-brained +youths, who formed a sort of retinue to the brilliant dancer and +valiant young soldier, bursting into a laugh. + +"Sirs," said Perico, crossing his arms upon his breast with a look of +suppressed rage, "have I a monkey show in my face?" + +"That or something else which provokes laughter," answered Ventura, at +which all laughed. + +"It is lucky for you," retorted Perico, in a choked voice, "that I am +not armed." + +"Shut your mouth!" exclaimed Ventura, with a rude laugh. "How bold the +_pet lamb_ is getting! Leave off bravado, pious youth; don't be +picking quarrels, but go home and wipe your children's noses." + +At these words Perico precipitated himself upon Ventura. The latter +recoiled before the sudden shock, but immediately recovered himself, +and with the strength and agility which were natural to him, seized +Perico by the middle, threw him to the ground, and put his knee upon +his breast. + +Fortunately Perico did not carry a knife, and Ventura did not draw +his; but instead the latter clenched both hands upon Perico's throat, +repeating furiously: + +{675} + +"You! You! that I can tear to pieces with three fingers; do you lay +your hands upon me? You! a killer of locusts, a coward, a chicken, +brought up under your mother's wing. You to me! to me!" + +At this instant Pedro entered. + +"Ventura!" he shouted, "Ventura! What are you doing? what are you +doing, madman?" + +At the sight of his father, Ventura loosed his grasp upon Perico and +stood up. + +"You are drunk," continued Pedro, beside himself with indignation and +grief. "You are drunk, and with evil wine. [Footnote 172] Go home," +he added pushing Ventura by the shoulder, "go home, and go on before +me." + + [Footnote 172: "Drunk with evil wine," said when the drunken person + is ill-tempered.] + +Ventura obeyed without answering, for with Pedro's words, it was not +alone the voice of his father that reached his ears, it was the voice +of reason, of conscience, of his own heart. His noble instincts were +awakened, and he blushed for the affair which had just taken place, +and for the cause which had occasioned it. Therefore he lowered his +head as in the presence of all he respected, and went out, followed by +his father. + +In the mean while they had raised Perico, who was gradually recovering +from the vertigo caused by the pressure of Ventura's fingers. + +He passed his hand across his forehead, cast upon those who surrounded +him the glance of a wounded and manacled lion, and left the room, +saying in a hollow voice, + +"He has destroyed us both." + +As Ventura had gone, accompanied by his father, those present allowed +Perico to leave without opposition. + +"This is not the end," said one, shaking his head. + +"That is clear," said another. "First deceived, and afterward beaten; +who is the saint that could bear it?" + +Perico went home muttering in disjointed and broken +sentences--"Chicken!" "Coward!" "Something in my face which provokes +laughter!" "And he tells me so, he!" "Pet lamb!" "No one cast a doubt +upon my honor until you spat upon it and trampled it under your feet! +Oh! we shall see!" He entered his room and seized his gun. + +"Father!" called the little voice of Angela from the next apartment, +"father, we are alone." + +"You will be yet more alone," murmured Perico, without answering her. + +The children's voices kept on calling "Father, father!" + +"You have no father!" shouted Perico, and went out into the court. He +placed his gun against the trunk of the orange-tree, in order to take +out ammunition to load it, but, as if the ancient protector of the +family repulsed the weapon, it slid and fell to the ground. The leaves +of the tree murmured mournfully. Were they moved by some dismal +presentiment? + +Perico was leaving the court when he found himself face to face with +his mother, who, made watchful by her inquietude, had heard her son +enter. + +"Where are you going, Perico?" she asked. + +"To the field. I have told you already that there were goats around." + +"Did you go to the feast?" + +"Yes." + +"And Rita?" + +"Was not there. Mamma Maria dotes." + +Anna breathed more freely; still, the unusual roughness of her son's +tone and the asperity of his replies surprised the already alarmed +mother. + +"Don't go now to the field, my child," she said in a supplicating +voice. + +"Not go to the field, and why?" + +"Because I feel in my heart that you ought not, and you know that my +heart is true." + +"_Yes, I know it_!" he answered, with such acerbity and bitterness +that Anna began to fear that although he might not have found Rita at +the feast, he had, nevertheless, his suspicions. + +"Well, then, since you know it, do not go," she said. + +{676} + +"Madam," answered Perico, "women sometimes exasperate men by trying to +govern them. They say that I have been brought up _under your wing_. I +intend now to fly alone," and he went toward the gate. + +"Is this my son?" cried the poor mother. "Something is the matter with +him! Something is wrong!" + +As Perico opened the gate, his faithful companion, the good Melampo, +came to his side. + +"Go back!" said Perico, giving him a kick. + +The poor animal, little used to ill treatment, fell back astonished, +but immediately, and with that absence of resentment which makes the +dog a model of abnegation in his affection, as well as of fidelity, +darted to the gate in order to follow his master. It was already shut. +Then he began to howl mournfully, as if to prove the truth of the +instinct of these animals when they announce a catastrophe by their +lamentations. + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +On the following day, when sleep had dispelled from Ventura's brain +the remaining fumes that confused his reason, he rose as deeply +ashamed as he was sincerely penitent. He, therefore, listened to the +just and sensible charges which his father made against his +proceedings, past and present, without contradicting them. + +"All you say is true, father," he answered, "and I can only tell you +that I did not know what I was doing, but I feel it enough now! The +wine, the cursed wine! I will ask Perico's pardon before all the +village. I owe it more to myself than even to him I have offended." + +"You promise, then, to ask his pardon?" + +"A hundred times, father." + +"You will marry Elvira?" + +"With all my heart." + +"And treat her well?" + +"By this cross," said Ventura making the sign with his fingers. + +"You and she will go to Alcalá?" + +"Yes, sir, if it were to Peñon." [Footnote 173] + + [Footnote 173: Gibraltar, in other words, to the end of the world.] + +Pedro looked at him a moment with deep emotion, and said: + +"Well, then, God bless you, my son." + +Both went to Anna's in search of Perico, but he had gone out, Anna +told them. At sight of them, but still more on noticing the joy and +satisfaction which shone in Pedro's face, Anna's vague but distressing +fears were tranquillized, and, more than all, Ventura's manner filled +her with hope, for she saw that he approached Elvira and talked to her +with interest and tenderness, while Pedro said, with a mysterious air +and winking toward Ventura, "That young fellow is in a hurry to be +married. You mustn't take so long to prepare the wedding things, +neighbor; young people are not so sluggish as we old ones." + +They soon left, Ventura for the hacienda at which he was employed; +Pedro, who was going to his wheat-field, accompanied him, their road +being the same. The wheat was very fine, not full of weeds. + +"The weeds are awake," said Ventura. + +"Give them time," replied Pedro, "and they will vanquish the wheat, +because they are the legitimate offspring of the soil. The wheat is +its foster child. But, with the favor of God, wheat will not be +lacking in the house for us and for more that may come." + +They separated and Ventura disappeared in the olive-grove. Pedro +remained looking after him. + +"Not even a king," he said to himself, "has a son like mine. Nor is +there his equal in all Spain. If he is noble in person, he is more +noble in soul." + +Ventura had advanced but few steps into the grove when he saw Perico +at a little distance, coming from behind a tree with his gun. + +{677} + +"I have something in my face, thanks to you," he shouted, "that +provokes laughter. I have also something in my hand that stops +laughter. I am a coward and a killer of locusts, but I know how to rid +myself of the reproach you have put upon me." + +"Perico, what are you doing?" cried Ventura, running toward him to +arrest the action. But the shot had been sent on its dreadful errand, +and Ventura fell mortally wounded. Pedro heard the report and started. + +"What is that?" he exclaimed, "but what would it be?" he added upon +reflection. "Ventura has perhaps shot a partridge. It sounded near. I +will go and see." + +He hurriedly follows the path his son has taken, sees a form lying +upon the ground; approaches it--God of earth and heaven! It is a +wounded man! and that man is his son! The poor old man falls down +beside him. + +"Father," Ventura says, "I have some strength left; calm yourself and +help me get to the hacienda; it is not far and let them send for a +confessor, for I wish to die like a Christian." + +The God of pity gives strength to the poor old man. He raises his son, +who, leaning upon his shoulder walks a few steps, repressing the +groans which anguish wrings from his breast. + +At the hacienda, they hear a pitiful voice calling for succor; all run +out and see, coming along the path, the unfortunate father supporting +upon his shoulder his dying son. They meet and surround them. + +"A priest! a priest!" moans the exhausted voice of Ventura. + +A suitable person, mounted on the fleetest horse, leaves for the +village. + +"The surgeon, bring the surgeon!" calls the father. + +"And the magistrate!" adds the superintendent. + +In this manner passes an hour of agony and dread. + +But now they hear the swift approach of horses' feet, and the +messenger comes accompanied by the priest. The aid which arrives first +is that of religion. + +The priest enters, carrying in his bosom the sacred host. All +prostrate themselves. The wretched father finds relief in tears. + +They leave the priest with the dying man, and through the house, +broken only by the sobs of Pedro, reigns a solemn silence. + +The minister of God comes out of the room. A sweet calm has spread +itself over the face of the reconciled. The surgeon enters, probes the +wound, and turns silently with a sad movement of his head toward those +who are standing by. Pedro awaiting, with hands convulsively clasped, +the sentence of the man of science, falls to the floor, and they carry +him away. + +"Sir magistrate," the surgeon says, "he is not capable of making a +declaration, he is dying." + +These words rouse Ventura. With that energy which is natural to him, +he opens his eyes and says distinctly: "Ask, for I can still answer." + +The scribe prepares his materials and the magistrate asks: + +"What has been the cause of your death?" + +"I myself," distinctly replied Ventura. + +"Who shot you?" + +"One whom I have forgiven." + +"You then forgive your murderer?" + +"Before God and man." + +These were his last words. + +The priest presses his hand and says, "Let us recite the creed." All +kneel, and the guardian angel embraces as a sister, even before +hearing the divine sentence, the parting soul of him who died +forgiving his murderer. + +{678} + +CHAPTER XV. + +The women were together in Anna's parlor, and although not one of +them, except Rita, knew of the events of the night before, they sat in +oppressive silence, for even Maria was wanting in her accustomed +loquacity. + +"I don't know why," she said at last, "nor what is the matter with me, +but my heart to-day feels as though it could not stay in its place." + +"It is the same with me," said Elvira, "I cannot breathe freely. I +feel as if a stone lay on my heart. Perhaps it is the air. Is it going +to rain, Aunt Maria?" + +"My poor child," thought Anna, "the remedy comes too late. Earth is +calling her body and heaven her soul." + +"Well, I feel just as usual," said Rita, who was in reality the one +that could hardly sit still for uneasiness. + +Angela had made her a rag baby, which she was rocking in a hollow tile +by way of cradle, and the painful silence which followed these few +words was only broken by the gentle voice of the little girl as she +sung, in the sweet and monotonous nursery melody to which some mothers +lend such simple enchantment, and such infinite tenderness, these +words: + + "I hold thee in my arms, + And never cease to think. + What would become of thee, my angel, + If I should be taken from thee. + The little angels of heaven--" + +The childish song was interrupted by a heavy solemn stroke of the +church bell. Its vibration died away in the air slowly and gradually, +as if mounting to other regions. + +"_His Majesty!_" said all, rising to their feet. + +Anna prayed aloud for the one who was about to receive the last +sacraments. + +"For whom can it be?" said Maria. "I do not know of any one that is +dangerously sick in the place." + +Rita looked out of the window and asked of a woman that was passing, +who was the sick person? + +"I do not know," she answered, "but it is some one out of the +village." + +Another woman cried as she approached, "Mercy! it is a murder, for the +magistrate and the surgeon have followed the priest as fast as they +could!" + +"God help him!" they all exclaimed, with that profound and terrible +emotion which is excited by those awful words, a murder! + +"And who can it be?" asked Rita. + +"No one knows," answered the woman. + +Then the bell tolled for the passing soul; solemn stroke; stroke of +awe; voice of the church, which announces to men that a brother is +striving in weariness, anguish, and dismay, and is going to appear +before the dread tribunal--momentous voice, by which the church says +to the restless multitude, deep in frivolous interests which it deems +important, and in fleeting passions which it dreams will be eternal: +Stand still a moment in respect for death, in consideration of your +fellow-being who is about to disappear from the earth, as you will +disappear tomorrow. + +They remained plunged in silence, but nevertheless deeply moved, as +happens sometimes with the sea, when its surface is calm, but its +bosom heaves with those deep interior waves which sailors call a +ground-swell. + +And not they alone. The whole village was in consternation, for death +by the hand of violence always appalls, since the curse which God +pronounced upon Cain continues, and will continue, in undiminished +solemnity throughout all generations. + +"How long the time is!" said Maria, at length. "It seems as if the day +stood still." + +"And as if the sun were nailed in the sky," added Elvira. "Suspense is +so painful. Perhaps robbers have done it." + +"It may have been unintentional," answered Maria. + +"Mamma Anna, who has killed a man, and what made him do it?" asked the +little Angela. + +"Who can tell," replied Anna, "what is the cause, or whose the daring +hand that has anticipated that of God in extinguishing a torch which +he lighted." + +{679} + +At that instant they heard a distant rumor. People moved by curiosity +are running through the street, and confused exclamations of +astonishment and pity reach their ears. + +"What is it?" asked Rita, approaching the window. + +"They are bringing the dead man this way," was the answer. + +Elvira felt herself irresistibly impelled to look out. + +"Come away, Elvira," said her mother, "you know that you cannot bear +the sight of a corpse." + +Elvira did not hear her, for the crowd, that drawn by curiosity, +sympathy, or friendship, had surrounded the body and its attendants, +was coming near. Anna and Maria, also placed themselves at the +grating. The corpse approached, lying across a horse and covered with +a sheet. An old man follows it, supported by two persons. His head is +bowed upon his breast. They look at him--merciful God! it is Pedro! +and they utter a simultaneous cry. + +Pedro hears it, lifts his head and sees Rita. Despair and indignation +give him strength. He frees himself violently from the arms that +sustain him, and precipitates himself toward the horse, exclaiming: +"Look at your work, heartless woman! Perico killed him." Saying this, +he lifts the sheet and exposes the body of Ventura, pale, bloody, and +with a deep wound in the breast. + +------ + +From the Dublin University Magazine. + +IRISH FOLK BOOKS OF THE LAST CENTURY. + + +In the eighteenth century Ireland did not possess the boon of +Commissioners to prepare useful and interesting school books. However, +as the mass of the peasantry wished to give their children the only +education they could command, namely, that afforded by the hedge +schools, and as young and old liked reading stories and popular +histories, or at least hearing them read, some Dublin, Cork, and +Limerick printers assumed the duties neglected by senators, and +published "Primers," "Reading-made-easie's," "Child's-new-play-thing," +and the widely diffused "Universal Spelling Book" of the magisterial +Daniel Fenning, for mere educational purposes. These were "adorned +with cuts," but the transition from stage to stage was too abrupt, and +the concluding portions of the early books were as difficult as that +of the "Universal Spelling Book" itself, which the author, in order to +render it less practically useful, had encumbered with a dry and +difficult grammar placed in the centre of the volume. + +Two Dublin publishers, Pat. Wogan, of Merchants' quay, and William +Jones, 75 Thomas street, were the educational and miscellaneous +Alduses of the day, and considered themselves as lights burning in a +dark place for the literary guidance of their countrymen and +countrywomen, of the shop-keeping, farmer, and peasant classes. In the +frontispiece of some editions of the spelling-book grew the tree of +knowledge, laden with fruit, each marked with some letter, and ardent +climbers plucking away. Beneath was placed this inscription: + + "The tree of knowledge here you see. + The fruit of which is A, B, C. + But if you neglect it like idle drones, + You'll not be respected by William Jones." + +{680} + +That portion of the work containing "spells" and explanations was +thoroughly studied by the pupils. The long class was arranged in line +in the evening, every one contributed a brass pin, and the boy or girl +found best in the lesson, and most successful at the hard "spells" +given him or her by the others, and most adroit in defeating them at +the same exercise, got all the pins except two, the portion of the +second in rank, (_the queen_,) and one, the perquisite of the third, +(_the prince_.) + +Every neighborhood was searched carefully for any stray copies of +Entick's or Sheridan's small square dictionaries, (pronounced +_Dixhenry's_ by the eager students,) for hard spells and difficult +explanations to aid them in their evening tournaments. + +The grave Mr. Fenning was censuruble for admitting into some editions +the following jest (probably imported from Joe Miller) among his +edifying fables and narratives: + + "A gay young fellow once asked a parson for a guinea, but was + stiffly refused. 'Then,' said he, give me at least a crown.' 'I + will not give thee a farthing,' answered the clergyman. 'Well, + father,' said the rake, 'let me have your blessing at all events.' + 'Oh I yes: kneel down, my son, and receive it with humility.' 'Nay,' + said the other, 'I will not accept it, for were it worth a farthing + you would not have offered it.'" + +We cannot, however, quit the school-books without mention of the +really valuable treatise on arithmetic, composed by Elias Vorster, a +Dutchman naturalized in Cork, and subsequently improved by John Gough, +of Meath street, one of the society of Friends. "Book-keeping by +Double Entry," written by Dowling and Jackson, was so judiciously +arranged that it is still looked on as a standard work. + +The same followers _longo intervallo_ of Stephens and Elzevir +published, besides prayer and other devout books, a series of stories +and histories, and literary treatises such as they were, printed with +worn type, on bad grey paper, cheaply bound in sheep-skin, and sold by +the peddlers through the country at a _tester_ (6-1/2d.) each. Of +history, voyages, etc., the peddler's basket was provided with "Hugh +Reilly's History of Ireland," "Adventures of Sir Francis Drake," "The +Battle of Aughrim," and "Siege of Londonderry," (the two latter being +dramas,) "Life and Adventures of James Freney the Robber," "The Irish +Rogues and Rapparees," "The Trojan Wars," and "Troy's Destruction," +"The Life of Baron Trenck," and "The Nine Worthies--Three Jews, Three +Heathens, and Three Christians." + +The fictional department embraced, chiefly in an abridged state, "The +Arabian Nights," "The History of Don Quixote," "Gulliver's Travels," +"Esop's Fables," "Adventures of Robinson Crusoe," "Robin Hood's +Garland," "The Seven Champions of Christendom," "The History of +Valentine and Orson," "The Seven Wise Masters and Mistresses of Rome," +"Royal Fairy Tales," etc., etc. + +In the department of the Belles Lettres may be classed, "Lord +Chesterfield's Letters to his Son," "The Academy of Compliments," "The +Fashionable Letter Writer," "Hocus Pocus, or the Whole Art of +Legerdemain," "Joe Miller's Jest Book," etc. + +The list would not be complete without mention of the books of +ballads. These were sold in sheets, each forming 8 pages, 18mo, and +adorned with cuts, never germain to the ballads they illustrated. Some +of these sheets contained only one production, the "Yarmouth Tragedy," +or some early English ballad sadly disfigured. One related how a +"servant-man" was accused by an envious liveried brother, of being a +confirmed card-player. On being examined he obtained a complete +victory over the informer, convincing his master that what he, the +master, called cards, was to him a prayer-book, a catechism, a +calendar, and what not. The different numbers reminded him of the six +days of the creation, the seven churches of Asia, the ten +commandments, the twelve Apostles, etc. The {681} king recalled to him +the duty he owed that supreme magistrate, the ace of hearts, the love +due to God and our neighbor. "How, is it," said the master, "that you +have always passed over the knave in your reckoning?" "Ah! I wished to +speak no ill of that crooked disciple that went to backbite me to your +honor." The reader anticipates the victory of the ingenious rogue. + +The purchasers of these sheets sewed them as well as they could in a +book form, but they were so thumbed and abused, that it is at this +date nearly impossible to procure one of those repertories of song +printed toward the close of the last or the beginning of the present +century. + +Of all these works that we delight in most at present, (it was not so +when we were young,) is the unmatched "Academy of Compliments," which +was the favorite of boys and girls just beginning to think of +marriage, or its charming preliminary, courtship. Very feelingly did +the writer in his preface insist on the necessity of eloquence. "Even +quick and attractive wit," as he thoughtfully observed, "is often +foiled for want of words, and makes a man or woman seem a _statute_ or +one dumb." He candidly acknowledges that several treatises like his +have been published, "but he assures the _courteous reader_ that none +have arrived to the perfection of this, for good language and +diversion." + +This is the receipt for accosting a lady, and entering into +conversation; with her: + + "I believe Nature brought you forth to be a scourge to lovers, for + she hath been so prodigal of her favor toward you, that it renders + you as admirable as you are amiable." + +Another form: + + "Your presence is so dear to me, your conversation so _honest_, and + your humour so pleasing, that I could desire to be with you + perpetually." + +The author directs a slight departure from this form, in case the +gentleman has never seen the lady before, and yet has fallen +passionately in love with her. + + "If you accuse me of temerity, you must lay your own beauty in + fault, with which I am so taken, that my heart is ravished from me, + and wholly subjected to you." + +Decent people would scarcely thank us for troubling them with many of +the "witty questions and answers for the improvement of conversation." +A few must be quoted, however, with discreet selection. + + "Q. What said the tiler to the man when he fell through the rafters + of his house? + + "A. Well done, faith; I like such an assistant as thou art, who can + go through his work so quickly. + + "Q. What said the tailor's boy to the gentleman who, on his + presenting his bill, said tartly, he was not running away? + + "A. If you are not, sir, I am sorry to say my master is. + + "Q. Why is a soldier said to be of such great antiquity? + + "A. Because he keeps up the old fashions when the first bed was upon + the bare ground." + + +THE BATTLE OF AUGHRIM. + +It may appear strange that "The Battle of Aughrim," written by an +adherent to the Hanoverian succession, should so long have continued a +popular volume among the Roman Catholic peasantry. This has, perhaps, +been due to the respectful style in which the author treated the +officers of Irish extraction. All his contempt and dislike were +levelled at St. Ruth, the French General, and his masters, English +James and French Louis. Though the style of the rhymed play is turgid +enough, there are in it occasional passages of considerable vigor and +beauty, and a brisk movement in the conduct of the piece; and +sentimental youth have an opportunity of shedding a tear over the ill +starred love of _Godfrey_ and _Jemima_. It was scarcely fair of the +author to represent St. Ruth as a stabber in cold blood, but hear the +moving periods he makes Sarsfield utter: + + "O heavens! can nature bear the shocking sound + Of death or slavery on our native ground. + Why was I nurtured of a noble race, + And taught to stare destruction in the face? + Why was I not laid out a useless _scrub_, + And formed for some poor hungry peasant's cub. + To hedge and ditch, and with unwearied toil + To cultivate for grain a fertile soil, + To watch my flocks, and range my pastures through, + With all my locks wet with the morning dew, + Rather than being great, give up my fame, + And lose the ground I never can regain?" + +{682} + +Those Irishmen, who, like ourselves, have read and enjoyed this drama +in early boyhood, before the birth of the critical faculty, will find +it out of their power to divest themselves of early impressions when +endeavoring to form a just estimate of its merits. We vainly strive to +forget the image of a comely and intelligent country housewife, +spiritedly reciting the interview of the Irish and English officers +after the day was decided, and bravely holding out the tongs at the +point where Sarsfield presents his weapon. Talmash, Mackay, and Sir +Charles Godfrey confront the Irish chiefs, Dorrington, O'Neil, and +Sarsfield, and Talmash courteously addresses them. + + "Take quarters, gentlemen, and yield on sight. + Or otherwise prepare to stand the fight. + Yet pray, take pity on yourselves and yield. + For blood enough has stained the sanguine field. + 'Tis Britain's glory, you yourselves can tell, + To use the vanquished hospitably well. + + _Sarsfield--_ Urge not a thought, proud victor, if you dare. + So far beneath the dignity of war. + I am a peer, and Sarsfield is my name. + And where this sword can reach I dare maintain. + Life I contemn, and death I recommend; + He breathes not vital air who'd make me bend + My neck to bondage, so, proud foe, decline + The length of this, (_extending his sword_,) because the spot is mine. + + _Talmash_.--If you are Sarsfield, as you bravely show, + You're that brave hero whom I longed to know, + And wished to thank you on the reeking plain + For that great feat of blowing up our train. + Then mark, my lord, for what I here contend; + 'Tis Britain's holy church I now defend. + Great William's right, and Mary's crown, these three. + + _Sarsfield_.--Why, then fall on--Louis and James for me. (_They fight_.) + +Sarsfield's declaration ends the animated discussion rather lamely; +but what poet has maintained a uniform grandeur or dignity? The writer +was a certain Robert Ashton. The play when printed was dedicated, +circa 1756, to Lord Carteret, and if peasant tradition can be trusted, +it was only acted once. The Jacobite and Hanoverian gentlemen in the +pit drew their swords on one another, probably at the scene just +quoted, and bloodshed ensued. This is not confirmed by the written +annals of the time. + +"The Siege of Londonderry" was, and still is bound up with "The Battle +of Aughrim," but there is nothing whatever in it to recommend it to +the sympathies of the populace. There is nothing but mismanagement and +bad feeling on the part of the native officers from beginning to end; +and if fear or disloyalty shows itself in one of the besieged, his +very wife cudgels him for it. + +There is something very naïve and old-fashioned in the observation +inserted at the end of the list of the _dramatis personae:_ + +"Cartel agreed upon--No exchange of prisoners, but hang and quarter on +both sides." + + +DON BELLIANIS OF GREECE; OR THE HONOR OF CHIVALRY. + +The re-perusal of portions of this early favorite of ours has not been +attended with much pleasure or edification. There is a sad want of +style, accompanied by a complete disregard of syntax, orthography, and +punctuation. The objects to be attained are so many and so useless, +one adventure branches off into so many others, and there arc so many +knights and giants to be overcome, and emperors so carelessly leave +their empresses in the dark woods exposed to so many dangers, while +they go themselves to achieve some new and futile exploit that the +narrative has scarcely more continuity and consistence than a dream. + +The author had ten times as many separate sets of adventures to +conduct simultaneously as ever had the estimable G. P. R. James. So he +was frequently obliged to suspend one series, and take up another, a +mode of composition which all novelists who read this article, are +advised to eschew. Leaving Don Bellianis investing the emperor of +Trebizond, who stoutly disputed the possession of the fair +Florisbella's hand with him, he proceeds to tell what happened at the +joustings of Antioch in consequence of the happy union of Don Brianel +and the peerless Aurora. Thither came {683} Peter, the knight of the +Keys, from Ireland. He was son to the king of Monster, and, being +anxious to seek foreign adventures, embarked at _Carlingford_, and +performed prodigies of valor in Britain and France, and then sailed +for Constantinople. Being within sight of that city, a storm forced +his ship away and drove it to Sardinia, where Peter won the heart of +the fair princess, Magdalena, by his success in the tournament, and +his beauty of features when he removed his helmet after the exercise. +The princess has a claim upon our indulgence, for as the text has it, +"he looked like Mars and Venus together." The knights of those happy +times being as distinguished for modesty as courage, the princess ran +no risk in desiring an interview with the peerless Peter, and they +vowed constancy to each other till death. + +A neighboring king demanding the hand of the lady for his son, the +lovers decamp, and find themselves on a strange island in a day or +two. Peter having given the princess a red purse containing some +jewels, she happened to let it fall by her, and it was at once picked +up by a vulture, on the supposition of its being a piece of raw meat. +Flying with it to a tree overhanging the river, and finding his +mistake, he dropped it into the water, and there it lay on the sandy +bottom in sight of the lovers. + +The knight, arming himself with a long bough, and getting into the +boat, would have fished up the purse, only for the circumstance of +being unprovided with oars. The tide having turned, he was carried out +to sea, and by the time he had got rid of his armor he was nearly out +of sight of the poor princess, now left shrieking behind, who was +conveyed away after a day and a night's suffering, in a ship bound for +Ireland, where she took refuge in a nunnery, and in time became its +superioress. This was near the palace of her lover's parents, and to +match this strange coincidence by another equally strange, their cook, +one day preparing a codfish for dinner, discovered within it the +identical purse of jewels carried away by their son, and lost in the +manner described in the distant Mediterranean. They gave him up then +for lost, but he was merely searching through the world for his +mistress, jousting at Antioch, killing a stray giant here or there, +and rescuing from the stake at Windsor an innocent countess accused of +a _faux pas_--all these merely to keep his hand in practice. Don +Clarineo with whom he had fraternized at Antioch is also engaged on +the same quest, and comes to Ireland in the course of his rambles. In +that early time Owen Roe O'Neill was chief king, MacGuire, father of +Peter, was king of Munster as before stated, Owen Con O'Neill and Owen +MacO'Brien ruled two of the other provinces, but the territory claimed +by each is not pointed out. The compiler was probably not well up in +the old chronicles; he would else have given O'Brien the territory of +Munster, and settled MacGuire somewhere near Loch Erin. + +Be that as it may, the reigning king of Ulster refusing his fair +daughter to the prince of Connaught, was minded to bestow her on the +terrible giant Fluerston, whose inhospitable abode was in the +mountains of Carlingford. The father of the rejected prince determined +to resist this "family compact," sent out knights and squires to +impress every knight errant they met into his service. Being rather +more earnest than polite on meeting with Don Clarineo, he slew about a +score of them, and after he succeeded in learning their business with +him he was inclined to slay another score for their stupidity in not +being more explicit at the beginning, whereas he would have devoted +ten lives if he had them to the cause of prince _versus_ giant. + +Having easily massacred the Carlingford ogre, he began to bestir +himself in his quest for the lost princess, and so quitted the +Connaught court which according to our author was held at that era in +Dublin, and his {684} loyalty was suitably rewarded in discovering his +own true love. + +It was originally written in Spanish, and part translated into French +by Claude de Beuil, and published by Du Bray, Paris, 1625 in an 8vo. + + +THE NEW HISTORY OF THE TROJAN WARRIORS AND TROY'S DESTRUCTION. + +The compiler of this _Burton_ did not share in Homer's excusable +prejudices in favor of his countrymen; he was a Trojan to the +backbone. This might be excused in compliment to the noble and +patriotic Hector, but he disturbs commonly received notions of family +relationship among the ancients, a thing not to be pardoned. + +After proposing the true histories of Hercules, Theseus, the +destruction of Ilion, and other equally authentic facts, he proceeds +to relate-- + + "How Brute, King of the Trojans, arrived in Britain, and conquered + Albion and his giants, building a new Troy where London now stands, + in memory of which the effigies of two giants in Guildhall were set + up, with many other remarkable and very famous passages, to revive + antiquity out of the dust, and give those that shall peruse this + elaborate work, a true knowledge of what passed in ancient times, so + that they may be able readily to discourse of things that had been + obliterated from the memories of most people, and gain a certainty + of the famous deeds of the renowned worthies or the world." + +Our truthful historian then relates with many corrections of the +legendary accounts of the lying Greeks, the histories of Hercules, +Theseus, Orpheus, Jason, and the other Ante-Trojan heroes; and either +through mere whim, or better information, tells us that Proserpine at +the time she was snatched away to hell, was the bride of the enamored +Orpheus, and the wicked King Pluto putting armor on his equally wicked +followers--the giant Cerberus and others--and festal garments over +the armor, carried her away despite the resistance of the bridal +party. Orpheus obtained her, as mentioned by the fabulists, but +looking back, Cerberus, who was close behind arrested her progress, +and the unfortunate husband returned to upper air half-dead. Thereupon +Theseus and Pirithous tried the adventure, but the giant Cerberus slew +the last named, and would have slain Theseus, but Hercules closely +following, gave the giant such a knock of his club as left him lying +in a swoon for some hours. Advancing to the throne of the black +tyrant, he administered another crushing blow on his helm, and leaving +him for dead, conducted the trembling but delighted Proserpine to her +mother and husband in the pleasant vales of Sicily, and "if they +didn't live happy that we may!" As for the traitor Cerberus, he was +presented to Hippodamia, the disconsolate widow of the murdered +Pirithous, who found a melancholy satisfaction in putting him to death +after first subjecting him to well-deserved tortures. + +In the rest of the history of Hercules our compiler does not think it +necessary to depart from the statements of the early writers. He gives +him indeed as second wife, _Joel_, daughter of King Pricus, neither of +whose names we recollect. + +Our authority being keenly alive to the injustice done by Homer to the +Trojans, corrects his statements on sundry occasions. Well disposed as +we are to rectify prejudices, he has not convinced us that the knights +on both sides, mounted, armed in plate, and setting their strong +spears in rest, charged each other in full career in the manner of +Cranstoun and William of Deloraine. These are his words: + + "Hector and Achilles advanced in the front of either army, and ran + at each other with great fury with their spears, giving such a shock + as made the earth to tremble, with which Achilles was thrown from + his horse; whereupon the noble Hector scorning to kill a dismounted + man, passed on, making lanes through the enemy's troops, and paving + his way with dead bodies, so that in a fearful manner they fled + before him. + +{685} + + "By this time Achilles being remounted by his Myrmidons, a second + time encountered the victorious Hector, who notwithstanding his + utmost efforts, again bore him to the earth, and went on making a + dreadful havoc as before." + +It is probable that this account of the death of Hector will prove +the least digestible of his emendations to the admirers of the early +Greek poets. The version here given appears to depend on the sole +authority of our compiler, and we do not feel here at liberty to +interpose in the literary quarrel sure to arise on the publication of +this article: + + "Hector, having taken prisoner Menesteus, Duke of Athens, who had on + a curious silver armor, he was conveying him out of the battle when + thinking himself secure, and being overheated with action, he threw + his shield behind him, and left his bosom bare. + + "Achilles, spying this opportunity, ran with all his might his spear + at the breast of the hero, which piercing his armor, entered his + undaunted heart, and he fell down dead to the earth. And this not + satisfying the ungenerous Greek, he fastened his dead body to the + tail of his horse, and dragged him three times round the city of + Troy in revenge for the many foils and disgraces he had received of + him." + +The rest of the narrative corresponds tolerably with the old accounts, +but we have not heart to accompany the author through the burning of +Troy, the adventures of Eneas, and those of Brutus in his descent on +Britain, and his victory over Albion, Gog, and Magog. Besides, the +death of the "Guardian Dog of Troy" has disturbed our equanimity, for +we acknowledge as great an esteem for Hector and as strong a dislike +to the ruthless Achilles, as was ever entertained by the compiler of +the "New History of the Trojan Wars." + +The prejudices of the romancers of the middle and later ages in favor +of the Trojans were probably due to the history of the war supposed to +have been written by Dares, a Phrygian priest mentioned by Homer. It +is in Greek, and the work of some ingenious person of comparatively +recent times. It was translated by Postel into French, and published +in Paris 1553. The first edition in Greek came out at Milan in 1477. +Another spurious book on the same subject in Latin, was attributed to +Dictys, a follower of Idomeneus, King of Crete. The first edition of +it was printed at Mayence, but without date. + + +THE IRISH ROGUES AND RAPPAREES. + +The literary caterers for our peasantry, young and old, hare been +blamed for submitting to their inspection the lives of celebrated +highwaymen, tories, and "rapparees." Without undertaking their defence +we cannot help pointing out a volume appropriated to gentry of the +same class in the _Family Library_ issued by John Murray, whom no one +could for a moment suspect of seeking to corrupt the morals of +families or individuals. We find in Burns' and Lambert's cheap popular +books, another given up to these minions without an apprehension of +demoralization ensuing among the poor or the young who may happen to +read it. So it is probable that J. Cosgrave contemplated no harm to +his generation by publishing his "Irish Rogues and Rapparees." It were +to be wished that the motto selected for his work had either some +attic salt or common-sense to recommend it: + + "Behold here's truth in every page expressed; + O'Darby's all a sham in fiction dressed, + Save what from hence his treacherous master stole, + To serve a knavish turn, and act the fool." + +The reader will please not confound the terms "tory" and "rapparee." +The tories, though that generic for Irish robbers is as old as +Elizabeth, are yet most familiarly known as legacies left us by the +Cromwellian wars, and chiefly consisted of those rascals who, +pretending to assist the parliamentary cause, plundered the mere Irish +farmers, and every one of both sides who had anything worth taking. +They were a detestable fraternity. The rapparees were the Irish +outlaws in the Jacobite and Williamite wars, including many a +scoundrel no doubt, but many also who, while they supported themselves +in outlawry, at the expense of those who in their eyes were +disaffected to the rightful king, yet kept their hands unstained by +{686} vulgar theft or needless bloodshed. Many who at first kept to +the hills and the bogs as mere outlaws, and exacted voluntary and +involuntary black mail for mere support, according as the assessed +folk were Jacobites or Williamites, gradually acquired a taste for the +excitement and license of their exceptional life, and became _bona +fide_ plunderers, preferring (all other things being equal) to wasting +the _Sassenach_ rather than the _Gael_, and that was all. + +Such a gentleman-outlaw was Redmond Count O'Hanlon, who flourished +after the conclusion of the Cromwellian wars. Redmond was worthy of a +place beside Robin Hood and Rob Roy, and has been made the hero of two +stories, one by William Carleton and the other by W. Bernard M'Cabe. + +We now proceed to quote a few of the exploits of those troublesome +individuals of high and low degree, who disturbed their country in the +end of seventeenth and first half of the eighteenth century and +furnished amusement to the peasantry and their children, during the +golden days of the peddlers. + +The great Captain Power of the South travelled northward to meet and +try the skill of Redmond, and they had a shrewd encounter with +broadswords for nearly half an hour, neither gaining a decided +advantage. They swore to befriend each other in all future needs, and, +in consequence, Redmond rescued his brother from the soldiers when +they were conducting him to execution. + +Power coming into Leinster, lodged at the house of a small farmer, +whom he observed to be very dejected all the evening. On inquiry he +found that his landlord and the sheriff were expected to make a +seizure next day for rent and arrears amounting to £60. After some +further discourse, Power offered to lend him the sum on his note of +hand, and the offer was gratefully accepted. Next day the farmer, +after much parleying, acknowledged that he had £60 given him to keep, +and that he would produce it rather than have his little property +distrained, and trust to God's goodness to be enabled to put it +together again. The landlord, after sufficiently abusing him, gave him +a receipt in full, and, parting company with the sheriff's posse, +returned home. In a lonely part of the way, he was set on by Power and +robbed of the £60 and his watch and other valuables. In a day or two +the robber called on the farmer, said he was going away, and the +promissory note would be of no use to him. So he took it out and tore +it in pieces. + +How the unreflecting hearts of the fireside group glow over such +quasi-generous deeds of robbers, and how little they think on the +selfish and abandoned and iniquitous portions of the lives of their +favorites! "Bah! they took from the rich that could afford it, and +gave to the poor that wanted it. Dickens a bit o' me 'ud betray +Redmond O'Hanlon or Captain Power if I got a stocken' o' goold by it." + +Strong John MacPherson is admitted among the Irish worthies by Mr. J. +Cosgrave, though he was more probably a Highlandman. There was much of +the milk of human kindness about strong John. If a horseman would not +lend, (John merely requested a loan,) he never used the ugly words +"stand and deliver," he pulled him off his horse and gave him a +squeeze. If that failed, he carried him away from the highway, giving +the horse his liberty, and rifled him in some quiet nook. Being set on +one night by a crowd in an inn kitchen, he threw the hostess over his +shoulder, and no better shield could be. Making his escape, he laid +her on the ground, set his foot apparently on her body--it was only on +her gown, however--and extorted twenty pieces from her friends before +he released her. + +Strong John was in no instance guilty of murder. He never even struck +but in self-defence, and always betook himself to defence by a woman +when practicable. He met the usual destiny of his tribe about 1678. + +{687} + +Will Peters, born among the romantic scenery of the Slieve Bloom +mountains, might have lived and died a respectable man, or at least +have acquired the fame of a highwayman, had it not been for two +trifling impediments. His father was a receiver of stolen cattle, +which, being commonly kept in a neighboring field, whose owner +remained out of sight, the crime could not be brought home to him. The +other mischance consisted in his staying at school only till he had +mastered "Reynard the Fox." It was the opinion of Mr. J. Cosgrave that +if he had got through "Don Bellianis," the "Seven Champions," and +"Troy's Destruction," he would have arrived at the honors of the +high-road. After a few mistakes in his cattle-stealing apprenticeship, +he became acquainted with the renowned "Charley of the Horse," and +thus made use of him. He was placed in durance for stealing a sorrel +horse with a bald face and one white foot, and committed to Carlow +jail, the horse being intrusted to the care of the jailer. Peters' +_pere_, on hearing of the ugly mistake, revealed the family sorrow to +the great Cahir, and he being fully informed of the marks, color, +etc., of the beast, sent a trusty squire of his to the assize town a +few days before the trial, mounted on a mare with the same marks as +those above noted. The jailer's man took the horse down to the +Barrow's edge every morning to drink, and the agent, making his +acquaintance, invited him to take a glass at a neighboring "shebeen" +the morning before the trial. While they were refreshing themselves, +the squire's double mounted on the mare approached where the horse was +tied outside, substituted his own beast, and rode off on the other. +The refreshed man, on coming out, observed nothing changed, and rode +the new-comer home to the stable. + +The trial coming on, the prosecutor swore home to his property, but +Mr. William Peters said he was as innocent of the theft as the lord +lieutenant. "My lord," said he, "ax him, if you plase, what did I +steal from him." The answer came out that was expected, "a sorrel +horse, such and such marks." "It wasn't a sorrel mare you lost?" "No." +"My lord, will you plase to send for the baste, and if it's a horse, +let me be swung, as high as Gildheroy." The animal was sent for, the +whole court burst into a roar, and Will Peters demanded compensation, +but did not get it. + +Being taken up again he was executed, as far as hanging for fifteen +minutes could effect it. However, being at once taken away by his +people, he was resuscitated. Once more he was seized and conveyed to +Kilmainham, whence he escaped rather than be transported. + +Being at last secured in Kilkenny for running away with a roll of +tobacco from a poor huckster-woman, he was once more placed on the +drop and hung. + +Such were the unedifying subjects presented to the consideration of +the young in Mr. J. Cosgrave's collection. He certainly had no evil in +his mind when composing it, but its moral effect was at best +questionable. It would be a book very ill suited for rustic fire-side +reading in our day. The same may be said of the "Wars of Troy," though +no indication of evil intention is apparent. We subjoin the names of +those books that still continue in print. Why they should still find +buyers seems strange, when such care is expended in supplying useful, +pleasant, and harmless reading for the lower classes. However, any +evil inherent in them is slight compared to that of _some_ of the +London halfpenny and penny journals. The following still form portions +of the peddler's stock: "The Academy of Compliments," "The Arabian +Nights," "The Battle of Aughrim," "Esop," "Gulliver," "O'Reilly's +Ireland," "Hocus Pocus," "Irish Rogues," "James Freney," "Robin Hood's +Garland," "Seven Champions," "Tales of the Fairies," "The Trojan +Wars," "Valentine and Orson," and the "Seven Wise Masters and +Mistresses of Rome," some of them absolutely harmless. + +{688} + +In the whole collection, there was not one volume racy of the Irish +soil, or calculated to excite love of the country, or interest in its +ancient history, or literature, or legends. The eighteenth century was +certainly a dreary one in many respects. Formality, affectation, and +cynicism prevailed in the manners and literature of the upper classes, +and the lower classes were left to their own devices for mental +improvement. It says something for the sense of modesty inherent in +the Celtic character, that there were so few books of a gross or evil +character among their popular literature. + +------ + +Translated from the French. + + + +ASSES, DOGS, CATS, ETC + +I. + +I am not a member of the society for the prevention of cruelty to +animals, but I deserve to be; for no one has praised the worthy +efforts of these gentlemen more than I have; and no one sees with +greater satisfaction, how justice sometimes gets hold of those brutal +drivers who wreak their uncontrolled anger upon their poor steeds, +guilty only of not being able to help themselves. And if, even, in +place of their being condemned to pay a paltry fine, they were paid +back in kind for the undeserved blows which these afflicted animals +receive from their hands, I for one would make not the slightest +objection. + +It would be contrary to the progress and civilization of the +nineteenth century, I agree, but it would not be contrary to justice, +civilized or uncivilized. + +However, who knows how things may turn out? Considering the miseries +and sufferings of those uncomplaining creatures when they are +unfortunate enough to get under the lash of the unfeeling boors who +ought to be in their place, it would not surprise me over much, if it +should turn out that-- + +That--what? + +Wait a moment, I'll tell you. One day, as I happened to be out walking +along a certain road, I noticed an ass tied to a post, around which, +within the full length of his rope, there was not a single blade of +grass to crop. The poor fellow was slabsided, and his skin scraped, +and half tanned by the frequent application of bark on the living +wood; evidently getting few caresses of a softer kind, but enjoying in +the most complete sense of the word, "the right to work." Naturally, I +stopped a moment to bid him good-day and ask after his ass-ship's +health, after which I plucked a fine thistle growing within +tantalizing reach of his rope, and gave it to him. He gobbled it down +with great gusto. + +"How do you like that, my old chap?" said I to him, mechanically. + +"First rate," said he, "hand us another." + +I jumped back in astonishment. + +"What! you can talk, can you, my Bucephalus, and in English too? That +is something new." + +"Not so new as you think, my dear sir, for I will let you into a +little bit of a secret. Ass as I am, and as you see me to be, I was a +man in my time and a butcher by trade. I had an ass that I treated +most scurvily, just as they do me now; giving him his bellyful of +blows and kicks, but of very little {689} else. Poor Jack--that was +his name--kept Lent all the year round, it being in the interest of +my customers, as I often said to myself, to quiet the qualms of +conscience when I gave him but half what he could eat. Let him stuff +himself said I, and he will get fat and lazy, the meat will come late +to the cook, the cook will be late with the dinner, and the hungry +family will lose their temper, and I shall lose their custom, while +good doses of the oil of strap will help his digestion wonderfully, +and keep him lively. However, this last end was not attained, for the +poor ass kicked the traces--professional term, you understand--and +went to the bone-boilers before his time. When it came to my turn to +tie up--again professional--and go off the cart, my soul was +condemned to go into an ass's body to suffer for a certain time the +punishment of retaliation. Drubbing for drubbing, kicks of hobnailed +shoes for kicks of peg boots, I got what I gave, and good measure too, +I assure yon. Do you see that half starved, thin-flanked old horse +over there? Well, he is a companion in misery to me. In his time he +was a hack-driver, and many a time in his fits of anger and +drunkenness, he made an anvil of the backbone or the jaws of his +horses. Only in those times, now and then, you understand, but those +times happened often enough, say once an hour or so, every day. As to +hay and oats, he tried to teach them, but without success, to go +without those articles of luxury. When his turn came to pay up old +debts, his soul was condemned to go into that sorry old carcass, in +which he passes many a miserable quarter of an hour. He is a +ragpicker's property now. How do you like that specimen of 'the +noblest conquest that man has ever made'? As to me, Sawney, at your +service, I think the end of my punishment is not far off. It was given +me to understand that when a benevolent gentleman would offer me a +thistle for friendship's sake, it would end, and it is to you I owe +this act of kindness, my dear Mr. Miller." + +"Good again, you are a wiser ass than I took you for. How do you know +my name, master Sawney?" + +"This way, sir. The other day I chanced to be tied to a post, near a +hedge, on the other side of which, in a meadow, some folks were having +a little picnic on the grass. After a while a tall lady in spectacles +took out some papers and began to read for the company. She seemed to +be reading, from what I could make out, in some magazine or other. I +soon understood that the subject was asses, and then of course I +cocked up my ears to their full height. It was true, it was about us, +abused and misunderstood beasts that we are. The articles read by the +tall lady were so full of kindness, and contained such flattering +remarks upon our species, that it almost brought the tears to my eyes. +The name signed to those articles was Jeremiah Miller. Oh! said I to +myself, that is a man whom one could call a man. There is one at least +who understands us and loves us; I promise myself that if I ever have +the good fortune to meet him I will give him--in lieu of anything +better--my blessing. You see that when you spoke to me just now so +kindly, I said to myself, I wonder if this be not Mr. Jeremiah Miller, +and then I called you by that name, and I see that I have just hit +it." + +"But"--my reader will say "of course you don't tell this story for a +true one! You would never have the face to ask us to believe that this +brayer actually spoke to you?" + +And, pray, why not? But, after all it is possible I fell asleep on a +mossy bank, in a meadow, near where an ass was tied, and that I +dreamed what I have told you. But dreams with the eyes shut are not +always so very unlike the dreams we sometimes have when our eyes are +open. As for myself, whenever I see a poor beast of burden brutally +maltreated by another beast, who strikes and kicks as if he {690} +meant murder, I allow my fancy to be tickled with a vision of this +latter brute obliged to creep into the skin of a horse or ass, and +take his turn at being unjustly whipped, without having any attention +paid to his bray or his neigh of expostulation or defence. You see +that I am in every respect worthy of figuring among the members of the +society for the prevention, etc., etc., but-- + + + +II. + +But--I hold to the great principles of '76, and first of all to that +of equality. If we must have a law for the protection of domestic +animals against the men who torment _them_, I would like to see a law +devised to protect men against the animals who are a pest to poor +humanity, for the shoe sometimes gets on the other foot. + +For example; look at that pack of dogs of all sizes, of all tastes, (I +mean human,) and in every stage of canine civilization, which their +masters permit to run at large in the streets of our city, even in the +worst of the dog days, without counting the free and independent dogs +who know no master but themselves. You have a friend who is a diligent +reader of the chapter of accidents in the daily papers. He tells you +about this or that dog who was seen running mad, that he had bitten +two or three persons, one of whom has since died of hydrophobia, and +adds with a peculiar relish that "the dangerous animal is still at +large!" These gentlemen--I mean the owners of the dogs--are +provokingly careless and indifferent about the muck which their dogs +are running in the midst of a population biteable to any extent. You +are kindly informed that if you happen to get bitten by some +suspicious-looking cur--and what cur is not of a suspicious character +in these days--it will be necessary to squeeze the wound, wash it, +then cauterize it with a red hot iron, or cut it out, and then, etc., +etc. These are most excellent recipes, I have no doubt, but I think I +know of a better, which would be to prevent the bites altogether. + +But, you say, there is the proclamation of his Honor, the Mayor, and +there is the police, etc., etc. Dogs at large are to be muzzled or +held by a chain. Oh! yes; very fine, indeed, when they are. The +proclamation is very good, but since the dog owners pay so little heed +to it, it is not surprising that the dogs themselves pay no more +respect to it than they do to the proclamations of patent medicines +pasted on the lamp-posts or fences. As to the country places outside +of the city, whither we of the heated streets and close shops fly to +get a breath of fresh air, and a moment of repose--there you will see +fat men and thin ladies who never dream, either asleep or awake, of +muzzling their favorite bull-dogs, lap-dogs, pointers, setters, tan +terriers or greyhounds. Muzzle _their_ dogs! that would make the poor +dogs, and their owners too, very uncomfortable. A pretty piece of +impudence indeed for a village constable to presume to carry out the +law against the dog, errant in delicto, which is the property of a Mr. +or a Mrs. or a Miss who is a "somebody," as if they were nobodies. Mr. +Constable knows better than that, and so does Mr. Puffer, the +magistrate. + +Besides, there is a learned doctor of the society for the prevention, +etc., who deplores with astonishment mingled with grief, etc., etc., +that any one should be so inhumane as to gag "man's companion and +friend" for the sake of the prevention of a few despicable cases of +hydrophobia. He has never been bitten by a mad dog, and don't expect +to be. He does not see why anybody else need expect to be. + +Then there are our nurses and the children, whose daily promenade is +embittered by the sight and often the attacks of some Snarleyow. "It +was as good as a play," says Snarleyow's master; "Snarley nearly +frightened them to death, I thought I should die of laughter to see +them {691} scamper. It was great fun for Snarley." Very well, +gentlemen, there is also something which is great fun for me too, and +that is to kick Snarley whenever he presumes to be too "playful" with +me or my particular friends the children. + +Protect your "friends of man" if you will, gentlemen, but don't let +them interfere with my friends, or--- + + + +III. + +Permit me here to make a digression, which is not altogether one; + +Man is defined, a reasonable animal. + +Now the question arises whether woman is included in this definition. +Don't get angry, ladies--the horrid men, you know, are so curious! + + +IV. + +From the friend of man let us pass to the subject of the friend of +woman. And here I find myself face to face with a celebrated document +which produced such a deep, or rather such a lively impression upon +the public, a few weeks since. Who is there in the whole five parts of +the world that has not heard of the noted "cat trial"? That learned +decision and sentence given by Squire Pouter, justice of the peace in +Dullville, is yet ringing in my ears, by which were avenged, as far as +a fine from five cents to a dollar could avenge, a litter of fifteen +cats illegally drowned. Illegally!--that at least was the opinion of +the wise magistrate, who rendered his judgment at great length, and +after his well known comprehensive style, citing his authors, +complimenting the one, and refuting the others, bringing under +contribution the code of Justinian, the English common law, the state +statutes, and the discussions of the Legislature at Albany. In short, +our modern Solon decided as follows: The cat, in its nature, is both a +domestic and wild animal. As a wild animal, it is true, it is lawful +game for the hunter; but, as a domestic animal, it has a right to +live, and is under the august protection of the law. Now, since the +wild part of its nature revolts against captivity, it has a right to +come and go according to its instinctive desire for daily exercise, +and housekeepers are not bound in conscience to make a raid upon them +in their tender feline infancy under pretence that some day or other +they will make a raid upon their pantry. Raids of prevention in the +times of peace are unheard of in the history of the republic. +Therefore they are condemned (the raiders, in the present case, not +the cats) to pay such and such fines, for the benefit of the fifteen +victims, or their heirs or assigns. Yes, indeed, this splendid +judgment made a good deal of noise, and well it might. I, who am +speaking to you reside in my own house, and have no evil intentions +toward any one, but--there are three cats who come each evening from +as many points of the compass for the purpose of making strategic +attacks upon my eatables. Infinite are the precautions that I am +forced to take to save my daily bread from the enemy. I must keep up +an incessant fight, and a running fire, not to speak of the difficulty +I experience in vain attempts to sleep with one eye open and my ear, +which is not on the pillow, on the alert. I will not speak of their +defiant caterwauling and spiteful spitting when they find my +barricades impassable; it is too painful a subject for me to dwell +upon. + +Who are the victims of oppression, most eminent and sage magistrate? +Is civilized man positively to be given over in the name of the +society for the prevention, etc., as a victim to the instincts and +caprices of cats? Not at all, not at all, O illustrious Pouter! I will +see you and the cats--well--some distance, if not further, first. +Bring on your grimalkins, for my soul burns to avenge the rights of +man! + +{692} + +It is not all. Here, for example, next door, lives Miss Lambkin; age +unknown. She, by some unexplained perversion of taste, is keeping +something in her house which is either an old sheep or a middle-aged +goat. This cud-chewer, who lapses into ennui despite the charms of its +mistress, bleats incessantly three times a minute, several thousands +of times in the twenty-four hours. Is such an eternal see-saw of sound +bearable? Is not my life a burden to me? Is not my liberty to think, +to play my violin, to take my usual nap after dinner abridged by the +liberty of Miss Lambkin's detestable foster child? And if I happen to +be sick, or suffering from the tooth-ache or the headache, or +melancholy, or perchance am sentimental, this beast, I suppose, must +not be thwarted in its monotonous sing-song. _Mister_ Pouter, is there +liberty for wolves? for most assuredly I shall soon play the part of +one! + +I have not finished yet. Since the first of May a family has come to +live in the house on the other side of mine. With father, mother and +furniture comes a tall, wasp-waisted damsel who now passes hours, yes, +hours banging upon an aged piano. It is her method of bleating, and it +is full as amusing as the other, if not a little less. Will the +president of the society for the prevention, etc., inform us if there +is any protection for aged pianos? A society for the _protection_ of +men and pianos would find in me one of its most eloquent orators, +diffuse writers, and active members. I would have all wandering Jews +of unmuzzled dogs executed on the spot, knocked on the head or +drowned, at choice. These at least have not the fifty cents in their +pockets to pay for a living release. + +As to the cats, I intend to memorialize the supreme court to declare +the decision of our immortal justice of the peace non-constitutional. +I wish it to be "legal" to kill, drown, or otherwise destroy any cat +or cats found on strange premises, understood, of course that they are +to be buried at the killer's expense, and the government not to be +made liable to pay handsomely for public obsequies with military +procession. + +Bleating goats, or sheep, or parrots, _et tutti quanti_, to be invited +to keep still, and not to speak until spoken to. + +Lastly, as to the piano-bangers, I acknowledge the case is a little +delicate, and any remedy whatsoever has its difficulties. I am not +malicious, and am inclined to the side of resignation and toleration. +For after all, you know, they are ladies, and when you say that, it is +enough. Without association you cannot accomplish anything nowadays; +and where in the world could be found a sufficient number of men to +form a society for their protection against _them_. After that, I do +not see that it is necessary I should say anything further. + + +-------- + + +From the Dublin University Magazine + +CAROL FROM CANCIONERO. + +"Vista ciegs, luz occura"--_Cancionero General_. Valencia, 1511. + + + Lightsome darkness, seeing blindness. + Life in death, and grief in gladness, + Cruelty in guise of kindness, + Doubtful laughter, joyful sadness, + Honeyed gall, embittered sweetness, + Peace whose warfare never endeth, + Love, the type of incompleteness, + Proffers joy, but sorrow sendeth. + +------ + +{693} + + +Translated from the French + + +THE PEARL NECKLACE. + + +There lived at Cordova, many years ago, an old Jew who had three +passions: he loved science, he loved gold, he loved his only child, +who bore the sweet name of Rachel. He loved science, not for its own +sake, not because it was the means of the acquisition of truth, but +for himself, that is to say, through pride. + +He loved gold, a little perhaps because it was gold, very much because +it gave him the means of providing luxuries for his darling child, +greatly also because without it he could not have made the costly +experiments necessary in the pursuit of science. + +He loved his daughter alone, with the pure and disinterested, but +passionate tenderness of paternal love. In a word he was a savant, a +father, a Jew. + +His name was Rabbi Ben-Ha-Zelah, and he practised medicine. He wrought +such wonderful cures that very soon his fame spread throughout Spain, +and from all parts of the kingdom the people came in crowds to consult +him. He received his patients in the afternoon. In the morning he +slept, it was said; but how his nights were passed none knew, and many +were the speculations concerning it. This only was known, that they +were passed in a secret chamber, of which he alone possessed the key, +and it had been observed that this mysterious apartment was sometimes +illuminated with many-colored flames, blue, or red, or green, while a +dense smoke issued from the chimney. + +The police of the kingdom at length resolved to penetrate the mystery, +which seemed to them very suspicions. _Everything_ is suspicious to +the police of _all_ countries. + +One evening, Rabbi Ben-Ha-Zelah saw two dark, grave men watching his +house. He listened and heard these words of sinister import: + +"To-morrow, at dawn, we will know whether this wretch is a +money-coiner or a magician." + +The conscience of the poor old Jew did not reproach him, for his life +was pure and innocent; but he had had great experience of the world, +and held as on axiom that innocence is worth absolutely nothing in a +court of justice. He went still further, he considered it an +aggravating circumstance. He often quoted the old Arabian proverb: "If +I were accused of having stolen and pocketed the grand mosque at +Mecca, I would immediately run off as fast as I could." He said that +justice was a game of cards--and he was no player. + +What misanthropic ideas! How different would his conclusions have been +had he lived nowadays! However, as he had not the happiness of living +in that Eden of justice, France of 1866, he put the philosophy of the +proverb into practice, and left Cordova that very night, taking with +him all his treasures. The next morning at dawn the two dark, grave +men, found an uninhabited, dismantled dwelling; which made them still +more dark and grave. + + + +II. + +Rabbi Ben-Ha-Zelah, disguised as a merchant and mounted on a strong +mule, passed rapidly through Spain. On either side of his saddle, and +securely fastened to it was a long wicker {694} basket, in the shape +of a cradle. Ben-Ha-Zelah looked from time to time at these baskets +with satisfaction, mingled with sadness, and then urged on his mule, +casting many a backward glance, to be quite sure he was not pursued. +In one of the baskets were his treasures and his books; in the other +slept peacefully the young daughter of the fugitive. Having reached a +small seaport town, the old Jew took passage in a vessel which was +about to sail for Egypt. + +Rabbi Ben-Ha-Zelah had often heard of the caliph Achmet Reschid, who +was celebrated throughout the East for his love of science, and the +high consideration in which he held scientific men. As for impostors, +charlatans and empirics, he held them in sovereign contempt and took +real pleasure in impaling them. + +This good prince reigned in Cairo. Thither Ben-Ha-Zelah bent his +steps; for he believed himself, and with reason, to be a true savant. + +The profound and extensive acquirements of the old Jew, together with +his astonishing skill in everything appertaining to the healing art, +soon made him as famous in Cairo as he had been in Cordova, and he was +at once made court physician. + +The caliph Achmet Reschid was never weary of admiring the almost +universal knowledge of the old man, and often invited him to the +palace to converse with him for hours upon the secrets and marvels of +nature. Suddenly a terrible plague broke out in the city, and +threatened to decimate the population. Ben-Ha-Zelah compounded a +wonderful lotion, which cured six times in seven. He contended that in +nothing could evil be conquered in a greater proportion than this; +that a seventh was a minimum of disorder, of sorrow, of vice, in the +imperfect organization of this world, and that when the proportion of +evil in the human body, in the soul, in society, in nature, had been +reduced to a seventh, all the progress possible in this world had been +made. + +However that may be, he was summoned one night in great haste to the +palace; the wife and son of the caliph were stricken down by the +pestilence. Ben-Ha-Zelah applied the miraculous lotion and the son was +restored to health--but the wife died. + +The caliph Achmet Reschid was overcome with gratitude for so signal a +service and throwing himself into the arms of the old physician, +exclaimed: "Venerable old man I to thee I owe the life of my son and +my happiness! As a proof of my gratitude, I appoint thee Grand +Vizier!" + +The old Jew prostrated himself on the ground before his generous +benefactor. + +"Yes," continued the caliph, who had a truly noble heart; "yes, I need +a friend in whom I can confide, as I have, one after another, beheaded +all those whom I had in a moment of impulse honored with that title." + +"Thanks, mighty caliph!" humbly replied Ben-Ha-Zelah. "How shall I +find fitting words to thank my gracious prince for such unmerited +condescension! Surely never did kindness like this rejoice the earth!" + +"Thou sayest well and truly, child of Jacob," answered the puissant +caliph. + +Time, far from diminishing the love of the caliph for Ben-Ha-Zelah, +only increased it. The jealousy of the courtiers had always succeeded +in poisoning the mind of the caliph against any one on whom he had +conferred the dignity of Grand Vizier; but the prudence of the old Jew +baffled all their schemes, and Achmet Reschid had learned how to guard +against calumniators. At the first word breathed against the new +favorite that benevolent prince and faithful friend ordered the rash +slanderer to be beheaded, and very soon the courtiers vied with each +other in their praises of the Grand Vizier. The good caliph, seeing +the harmony of feeling among his people with regard to the new +favorite, congratulated himself on his firmness. + +{695} + +"I knew very well," said he, "that the whole court would at last do +him justice. I talk of him with every one and no man says aught +against him." + + + +III. + +As for Ben-Ha-Zelah, he seemed to be perfectly indifferent to the +immense power which his favor with the caliph gave him in the state. +In vain did the courtiers try to entangle him in the intrigues of the +court. In vain did the noblemen of the kingdom, in hopes of gaining +his protection, lay costly gifts at his feet. He gently refused them +all. Devoid of ambition, and prudent to excess, the old Jew withdrew +as much as possible from public affairs. He even begged the caliph to +excuse his attendance at the palace, except at certain hours of the +day, that he might devote himself more uninterruptedly to scientific +pursuits. The love of the caliph grow day by day, and the courtiers as +well as the common people, seeing the humility and disinterestedness +of the Grand Vizier, acknowledged him to be indeed a sage. + +At court, as everywhere else, he was clad in a coarse brown robe, and +was in no way distinguishable from the crowd, had not the intellectual +expression of his face, and the strange brilliancy of his eyes, +revealed at a glance a superior mind. He might often be seen in the +streets of Cairo, carrying in his own hands the metals, stones or +medicinal plants, which he bought in the bazaars, or gathered in his +solitary rambles. Wherever he went he heard his own praise; but never +did he in any way betray that it was agreeable to him. + +"No one is so poor and humble," said the common people to each other, +"as the Grand Vizier of our high and mighty caliph." + +The truth was, however, that with the exception of Achmet Reschid, no +one in Cairo possessed such vast riches as the "poor" Vizier; but +after the manner of the Jews he carefully concealed them, and lived in +a very modest mansion situated outside the walls of the city. This +humble dwelling was completely hidden by the palm and cedar trees +which surrounded it, and for still greater security was enclosed by a +high wall. + +In this quiet and mysterious retreat, where he admitted no guests, he +had centered all that made his life; there dwelt his child, the young +Rachel, just budding into womanhood. + +When, after passing weary hours in the unmeaning ceremonial of the +court, he reached his garden gate, and stealthily opened it, his +usually impassive face was suddenly illumined as with a sunbeam. It +was as if he had passed from death unto life. + +His daughter, clad like a queen of the east, ran to meet him, and +embraced him so tenderly that it seemed as if a portion of her young +life was breathed into the worn and exhausted frame of the aged +father. Ben-Ha-Zelah forgot his sorrows and his cares, and seemed to +revive as with the breath of spring. "I gave thee life, my daughter; +thou dost restore it to me!" murmured the old man. + +Rachel was just entering her sixteenth year. Her hair was of the +beautiful golden color which people love. Her eyes, her voice, her +smile, her bearing, carried with them an irresistible charm. She +looked, it was a ray of light; she spoke, it was a strain of music; +she smiled, it was the opening of a gate of Paradise. Her heart was +pure and innocent as was that of the Rachel of old, whom Jacob loved. +Can we wonder that the heart of her father was bound up in her? Who +indeed, could help loving a being so pure and bright? + + + +IV. + +Ben-Ha-Zelah was old, but his was a vigorous old age--and the young +daughter and aged father, as they walked under the grand old trees of +the garden, made a beautiful picture. The long white head, piercing +eyes, {696} eagle nose, and broad brow of the old man, formed a +striking contrast to his humble dress, and when no longer under +constraint, it revealed a mysterious and profound satisfaction in his +own personality and intelligence. There was so much _pride_ that there +was no place for _vanity_ in his soul. + +What cared he for the admiration or contempt of others, the vain +clamors of the multitude, whom he considered infinitely his inferiors? +When he said to himself, "I am Ben-Ha-Zelah," the rest of the world no +longer existed for him. + +His pride was like that of Lucifer: it was not relative but absolute; +he contemplated himself with a terrible satisfaction. Thence his +disdain for all the miserable trifles which gratify the self-love of +inferior men. The pride of _seeming_ comes when the pride of _being_ +is not absolute. + +Whence then came the gigantic pride of the old Jew? + +Rabbi Ben-Ha-Zelah was the most learned man of his time. + +He had carried his investigations far beyond those of the most +scientific men of the age; he was well versed in physics, mechanics, +dynamics, arithmetic, music, astronomy, medicine, surgery, and botany; +but the science he most loved, was that which, at first known under +the name of alchemy, was destined to become the greatest science of +modern times--chemistry. + +He passed night after night shut up in his laboratory, as he had +formerly done at Cordova, seeking to penetrate one after the other all +the mysteries of nature. There, bending over his glowing furnaces, +surrounded with retorts and crucibles of strange shapes, filled with +metals in a state of fusion, by all sorts of instruments and alembics, +old Ben-Ha-Zelah interrogated matter and demanded the mystery of its +essence; he pursued it from form to form, he tore it with red-hot +pincers; he melted it in the glowing fires of his furnaces; he made it +solid only to reduce it again to a liquid state, decomposing it a +hundred times in a hundred different ways. He tortured it, as does the +lawyer the prisoner at the bar, that he may wring from him his most +hidden secrets. + +Matter, thus pursued by the indefatigable alchemist, had revealed more +than one of its mysterious laws, which he had made useful in the +practice of his profession, so that he was considered in Cairo little +less than a demi-god. However, in his labors he sought not the good of +his fellow-men, but the barren satisfaction of the passion which was +consuming him, _the pride of knowledge_; he sought to penetrate the +secrets of the most high God. The promise of the tempter to our first +parents; _Eritis sicut dei, scientes_, "You shall be as gods, knowing +good and evil," had penetrated his soul; and he desired to plant in +his garden that fatal tree to which the first-born of our race +stretched out their guilty hands. Like his ancestor Jacob, he wrestled +with Jehovah. + +One can readily understand that the old man, absorbed in this gigantic +struggle, was dead to all vanity, so far as men were concerned. He had +reached such dizzy heights that he had almost lost sight of them. To +him they were like the brute beasts which crossed his path; he +believed them to be of an inferior nature to him, who had been gifted +with such vast genius--such indefatigable industry. His high thoughts +were not for such miserable pigmies. + +Sometimes seating himself in dreamy mood in his garden, at the foot of +a grand old cedar, his favorite seat, and taking in his hand a pebble, +a blade of grass or a flower he was plunged in profound meditation. + +What makes this "a body" thought he. This "body" is brown, heavy, +hard, square, or has many other properties which come under my notice. +But it is evident that neither the color, weight, cohesion, nor form +constitute its _essence_. They are its manner of beings--not its +being. If I modify it, destroy it even, it will still {697} be the +same body, and I shall, after all, have only attacked its manner of +being; the essence which heretofore has always escaped me--_the soul +of the body_, if I may say so--will have suffered no change. It is as +if I were suddenly to become hunchback, lame, idiotic--I would still +be the same man. I must discover the substance _quod sub stat_; in the +first place, what causes this to be; in the second place, what +constitutes it a body; and finally, what makes it this particular body +which I hold in my hand and not another. + +The problem was formidable; it was the mystery of the omnipotence of +the God who created the world, and nevertheless this unknown +Prometheus shrank not from the task, and flattered himself he could +wring from created matter the secrets of its Creator. + +In his experiments' Ben-Ha-Zelah had started with the axiom that all +bodies were formed from certain elements which were invariable, but +combined in different ways. Moreover, his researches had proved to him +that many elements, formerly believed to be primary, were composed of +different elements into which they might again be readily resolved. So +that seeing their number decrease as his investigations became more +abstruse and his analyses more delicate, he had arrived at the +conclusion that there existed an original and absolute substance of +which all bodies, even those apparently the most different, were only +variations. + +He affirmed the identity of the base under the infinite variety of the +forms. This primary substance which he considered as coëternal with +God, was, he thought, that on which Jehovah breathed in the beginning, +and in his Satanic pride he believed two things--first that the +Almighty had combined the atoms of matter in so wondrously complex a +manner only to conceal from man the secret of its creation--and +secondly, that the Rabbi-Ben-Ha-Zelah would be able to baffle the +precautions of the Almighty, and by analysis after analysis, at length +succeed in finding the simple primary substance from which all things +were originally formed. + +Such were the thoughts which continually filled his mind--such the +gigantic plan he had conceived. Again and again he said to himself +that by taking from a body one after the other its contingent +qualities, as one takes the bark from a nut, he would succeed at +length in penetrating its most hidden depths, to that _matter essence_ +from which was made, as he believed, all that existed in the universe. + +He had inscribed on the door of his laboratory _Materia, mater_. And +as soon as he should be able to imprison in his alembics this primary +matter he could at will, disposing it after certain forms, make in +turn bronze, stone, wood, or gold. Nay more, he hoped to surprise with +the same blow the mystery of life--and then, thought he in his impious +pride, I shall be a creator, like unto Him before whom every knee +bends in adoration. I shall be God! _Eritis sicut dei_. + +The old man, lost in the vain search for the absolute basis of matter, +little suspected that the final word of all science is; "The essence +of matter is immaterial." + +However, he devoted himself most zealously to the great work he had +undertaken, and passed night after night in the recesses of his +laboratory which would have reminded one of the entrance to the +infernal regions but for the sweet presence of the young and lovely +Rachel, who glided in and out, bringing order out of confusion, and in +the evening beguiled the long hours by singing to her father snatches +of the old Hebrew songs of which such touching and beautiful fragments +have come down to us. + + + +{698} + +V. + +One night, Ben-Ha-Zelah, regardless of fatigue, was still bending over +his glowing furnaces. For more than a week he had allowed himself no +sleep, nor had he permitted his eyes to wander from the vast crucible +which had been heated to white beat for six consecutive months. He had +discovered phenomena hitherto unknown. His bony hands clutched +convulsively the handle of the bellows, and his eager, care-worn face +was illuminated with a two-fold radiance, that from the purple light +of the furnace and from the interior flame which consumed his soul. He +was motionless from intensity of emotion. At last then he was about to +attain the aim and desire of his whole life! + +The primary substance, the absolute essence of matter, he was about to +seize it--to be its lord. The old man still watched; a whitish vapor +rose slowly from the crucible; matter decomposed in this crucible +seemed to be a prey to a fearful travail--to struggle in an internal +conflict. + +The old man raised his tall form to its full height and at that moment +appeared like a second Lucifer. He shouted in triumph, "I have +created!" + +Then rushing to the casement he gazed upward to the starry heavens, +not in prayer, but in defiance. + +"I have created!" he repeated, "I have created! I have conquered! I am +the equal of God!" + +A noise, slight in reality, but to the excited senses of Ben-Ha-Zelah, +louder than the crash of thunder, was heard behind him. He turned with +agitated countenance. The crucible, unwatched during his delirium of +pride, had fallen, and was shivered to atoms. All was lost; the +creation of him who aspired to an equality with the Most High was but +a heap of ashes. + +Ben-Ha-Zelah was stunned by this unlooked-for calamity. He fell back +fainting, as if, while he rashly sought to penetrate the mystery of +life, pale death, entering his dwelling had touched him with her +sombre wing. + + + +VI. + +When consciousness returned, the fire of the furnace, which had been +fed with so much care for six weary months, was extinguished. Through +the open casement he saw myriads of stars blazing in the firmament. +The majestic silence of the night hovered over the unchanged +immensity. + +The old man was seized with an indefinable terror. He understood that +he was punished for his pride, and he had a presentiment that the +sudden failure of the labor and research of so many years was but the +beginning of his punishment. It seemed to him that in the midst of the +thick darkness the living God had looked into the depths of his guilty +soul and had stretched out his all-powerful hand to smite him. +Suddenly, as by a revelation, there came to him a knowledge of the +point where God was about to strike him. + +"My child! my child!" cried he, in a voice broken by terror and +remorse. + +He ran to the chamber of his daughter. + +The old man opened the door gently, taking, in spite of his terror, a +thousand paternal precautions not to awaken the sleeper. The trembling +light of a small alabaster lamp cast its faint rays about the +apartment. Gently he drew back the curtains of the bed and gazed +fondly upon his child. + +Rachel slept profoundly, her breathing was as peaceful as innocence. +Ben-Ha-Zelah looked upon the sweet, calm face with a transport of +delight. The tranquillity of this peaceful sleep of childhood was +communicated to him, and for a moment stilled the agitation of his +soul. + +He leaned fondly over the sleeping form; listened joyfully to the calm +breathing of his darling child, to the regular beating of her heart; +then stooping, imprinted a kiss of fatherly love on the beautiful +brow. + +Rachel remained immovable, and her sleep was unbroken. "It is strange +she has not awakened," said the old man to himself looking at her +again. "Sleep is so like death." + +{699} + +As he allowed this thought to take form a vague terror took possession +of him. + +"Bah! she sleeps! I hear her breathing," said he aloud. + +The secret indefinable fear which he could not banish, and for which +he could not account, still remained; he could no longer contain +himself. + +"Rachel!"' cried he in a loud voice. The young girl slept on. + +"Rachel! my child!" he cried again, at the same time shaking her +gently by the arm. + +Still the calm sleep was unbroken; and the peaceful breathing which at +first had delighted the fond father now seemed like a fatal spell. + +"Rachel! Rachel!" + +He took her in his arms; he placed her on a couch; he tried to make +her walk; and in vain essayed with his trembling fingers to open the +sealed eyelids. + +The young girl slept on; her respiration as calm, and the rhythm of +her heart still preserved its frightful monotone. All the efforts of +the despairing father were vain. Day dawned, night came, the next day, +and weeks and months, and Rachel awoke not. + + + +VII. + +The distracted father, remembering that he was a physician, sought in +medical science a remedy for this strange malady. He tried every known +medicine, he essayed new ones; but nothing could break the fearful +sleep. He no longer went to the palace of the caliph, but his days and +nights were passed in his laboratory as they had formerly been at +Cordova; his researches, however, were no longer to feed his pride. +Sorrow concentrated his mighty genius on one thought--to discover a +remedy for his idolized child. Bitterly did be expiate the old +anxieties of his pride by the torturing perplexities of this new +sorrow. + +More than six months passed thus. A last and desperate remedy to which +he had recourse, had, like all the others failed; Ben-Ha-Zelah on a +night like that on which this weight of sorrow had come upon him, was +in his laboratory bending as ever over his retorts. He had made every +research, every experiment that genius, quickened by affection, could +suggest, and had failed in all. Rachel still slept. Then the +broken-hearted old man, convinced of his own impotence, let fall his +arms at his sides and burst into tears. + +At that moment he heard a voice which seemed to come at once from the +depths of immensity, and from the inmost recesses of his own heart. + +"All thy efforts are vain," said the voice. "Thou wilt cure thy child, +only by passing about her neck, a pearl necklace, not the pearls which +bountiful nature gives, and God makes, but pearls which thou thyself +hast fashioned. Thou thoughtest thyself the equal of God, the equal of +Him who created the world; and he punishes thee, by condemning thee to +create only a few pearls, and he is willing to lend thee all the +riches and treasures of his beautiful world. Go and seek! And when +thou hast made enough of these pearls to fill the box beside thee, +make a necklace of them. Put it on the neck of thy child, and she will +awake." + +It was not an illusion. The old man had seen no one, but the box was +there beside him. It was a little box, of a wood unknown to him, which +exhaled a delicious odor. On the lid inscribed in letters of gold, was +a Hebrew word, meaning "Treasure of God." + +Ben-Ha-Zelah, re-kindled the fires of his furnaces and again applied +himself to explore the arcana of alchemy. He took from his coffers all +the pearls he possessed, and after having analyzed them, tried in vain +to form them again; but the secret of omnipotence which he attempted +to grasp, fled from him. He decomposed precious stones and succeeded +only in making a gross calcareous substance. Again and again he +flattered himself, he had penetrated the mystery of the Creator; but +all his hopes ended in nothingness. {700} Nature, which he had once +attempted to conquer to satisfy his pride as a savant, he now wooed in +vain to still the passionate yearnings of his fatherly heart. + +One day he said to himself: "My knowledge is very little; and with the +very little I know, I shall never succeed in solving this problem, and +nevertheless it is possible!" + +The voice which spoke to me is a voice which does not deceive. + +Then an inspiration came to him which lighted with a pale ray of hope, +the sorrowful face long unused to happiness. The idea occurred to him, +that if he should go and study the shells of the Persian gulf where +pearls are formed, he might succeed in winning from nature the mystery +which he had so much interest in learning. + +He set out the next morning on his long and wearisome journey, leaving +his child to the faithful care of the old Jewish slave who had been so +many years in his service, and in whom he reposed the most perfect +confidence. She had been the nurse of Rachel, and loved her almost +with a mother's love. He spent two months in studying the pearl oyster +of the Persian gulf; but there, as in his laboratory, all his efforts +were vain. + +Providence, thought he, (he no longer said "nature,") Providence has +secrets which will never be known to mortals! + +Convinced of the utter folly of his painful researches--anxious, +moreover, to see his poor child again. He sadly turned his face +homeward. + + + +VIII. + +As he slowly and sadly pursued his way toward Egypt, he saw on the +second day of his journey across the desert, a group in the distance, +apparently just in his route; continuing to advance, he saw a dead +camel covered with blood, beside him the dead body of a knight, +pierced with sabre-strokes; on the road-side a woman, apparently +dying, holding in her arms a young infant. + +Ben-Ha-Zelah, moved with compassion, approached and accosted the +woman. She told him that in crossing the desert with her husband and +child, they had been attacked by brigands, who had killed her husband, +left her mortally wounded, and had rifled them of all their treasures; +even their water-bottles--more precious than all in the desert. + +"I am dying," said she, "but my bitterest sorrow is in leaving my poor +little babe, who must perish thus alone in the desert." + +The poor mother for one moment thought of asking the kind old man to +take her child, but she saw that one of his water-bottles had been +broken by some accident, and that he had hardly enough water to cross +the desert. + +Ben-Ha-Zelah had had the same thought, but he calculated the quantity +of water remaining to him, and and to himself that it was impossible. + +The woman was dying. + +There, in the presence of the mother's despair, with the wail of the +infant so soon to be an orphan, in his ears, he thought of his own +child. + +"Woman," said he, "I will take your babe, and will care for him as for +my own. I will save his life, even at the cost of my own." + +The mother died, invoking blessings on his head. + +Ben-Ha-Zelah resumed his journey across the desert, placing before him +on the saddle, the infant, who at first wept, then laughed in +infantile glee, then amused himself by teasing the patient nurse, +pulling his beard, or tangling the reins of the camel. The old man who +had become as gentle as a mother, sought every means which affection +could suggest to amuse the helpless little creature, so strangely +given to his charge--sometimes with the gold tassels of his bridle, +sometimes with his bright fire-arms, sometimes by rattling in his ears +the gold sequins in his purse. Again he would sing to him a lullaby, +long-forgotten. {701} The child was pleased with each new amusement +devised by the old savant, but it was only for a few moments, and was +again looking about for something he had not yet seen. + +How much we all resemble children! + +Poor old Ben-Ha-Zelah knew not what to do to satisfy this restless +craving for amusement. Suddenly he thought of the beautiful little +box, which the child had not seen, and drew it out from the folds of +his robe. + +The child eagerly grasped this new plaything and turned it about in +every possible way. + +To the amazement of the old Jew, there was a slight sound, as of some +small object rolling about in the box. + +The child shouted with delight. The old man was breathless and +trembling. He grasped the box convulsively from the hands of the +infant, who held it out to him, smiling. He opened it. His blood froze +in his veins, with an emotion not of terror but of joy and hope. + +He beheld in the box a pearl, pure and more beautiful than any he had +ever seen. + +Speechless with emotion he could only raise his eyes to heaven in a +wordless prayer of gratitude. + +Then he heard a voice which seemed to fill the immensity of the +desert, and nevertheless, was as low and sweet as the loving murmur of +a fond mother. + +"O Ben-Ha-Zelah! every tear which thou shalt dry, is a pearl which +thou dost create." + +Ben-Ha-Zelah looked about him. All around him was the desert. Before +him, in his arms, the little babe, suddenly grown calm, and smiling in +his face. + +A few more days and his journey through the desert was ended. But many +were the privations he endured that the helpless little infant, now so +dear to him, might not want. + +Ben-Ha-Zelah was rich, and now he was good. His goodness made use of +his riches to dry the tears of misfortune--there are as many, alas! in +this world of suffering, as there are dewdrops on a summers morning-- +and very soon his box was quite full. + +When he again saw his child, the mysterious sleep was unbroken. She +came not to welcome him, but he put the pearl necklace about her +beautiful throat, and she awoke, smiling. + +"Oh! what a lovely necklace, papa," she cried. + +"It is the first I have ever given thee, my darling," said the happy +father, "but I hope it may not be the last. My pearl-casket is now +empty, but I trust in God that I may fill it many times before I die." + +------ + +{702} + + +[ORIGINAL.] + + +THE GIPSIES. [Footnote 174] + + [Footnote 174: "A History of the Gipsies: with Specimens of the + Gipsy Language." By Walter Simson. Edited, with preface, + introduction, and notes, and a disquisition on the past, present, + and future of Glpsydom. By James Simson. 12mo, pp. 575. New York: M. + Doolady. London: Sampson Low, Son, & Marston. 1866.] + + +About the beginning of the 15th century there appeared in Germany a +strange mysterious people, such as had never been seen in Europe +before; + + A vagrant crew, far straggled through the glade, + With trifles busied, or in slumbers laid. + +No man knew who they were or whence they came. Their swarthy +complexions, long black hair, sharp eyes, high cheek-bones, narrow +mouths and fine white teeth, were marks of an eastern origin. They +spoke a language which had never been heard in Europe before, and +followed a strange way of life, which savored more of the rude nomadic +habits of primitive Asia, than the comparatively civilized customs of +the country into which they had come. They travelled about in bands or +tribes, each under the command of a leader, slept at night in tents or +abandoned out-houses, and occupied themselves by day in a simple sort +of smith work, basket-weaving, tinkering, fortune-telling, juggling, +and stealing. Vagabonds as they were, filthy in their habits, and +addicted to the eating of carrion and other disgusting things, they +were fond of wearing gay dresses, whenever they could beg, buy, or +steal them, and many of the women, with their lithe and agile figures, +were not without a certain dark sort of beauty which found many +admirers. + +Whether they knew anything about their own origin or not, is doubtful; +but if they did, they kept it so carefully' secret, that the knowledge +has been completely lost. At all events they made their first +appearance in France in 1427, with a great lie in their months, and a +forged confirmation of it in their pockets. They called themselves +Christian pilgrims from Lower Egypt, who had been expelled by the +Saracens. They had unfortunately committed a few sins on the way, and +having confessed to Pope Martin V., his holiness had enjoined upon +them as a penance to traverse the world for seven years without +sleeping in beds. In support of this story they exhibited documents +purporting to be issued by the holy see, but they had probably +manufactured these testimonials themselves. However, the world was not +very wise in those days, and the mysterious strangers were accepted +for what they professed to be; and for some years the wandering +penitents pursued a brilliant career of theft and imposture, while +their leaders galloped over the continent with the high-sounding +titles of dukes, counts, and lords of Little Egypt. When they first +came to Paris they had among them a duke, a count, and ten lords. The +authorities would not let them enter the city, but assigned them +quarters at La Chapelle near St. Denis, where they were consulted on +occult matters by great numbers of the citizens. But our Egyptian +pilgrims were soon found to be such incorrigible rascals that the +bishop of Paris caused them to be removed, and excommunicated those +who had consulted them. Similar treatment was shown them in other +parts of Europe. For a time their forged credentials had enabled them +to obtain passports and letters of {703} security from various +European potentates; but the wanderers everywhere made themselves +nuisances, and were banished under threats of the severest +punishments. Fortunately for them, however, these edicts were not +published simultaneously all over Europe, so that they were not +exactly driven into the ocean, but only exiled from one part of the +continent to another. In Germany they were called _Zigeuner_, or +wanderers; in Holland, _Haydens_, or heathens, in Spain, _Gitanos_; in +Italy, _Zingari_; in France, Bohemians, because they entered that +country from Bohemia. The name of gipsy, by which they were known in +England and Scotland, is evidently a corruption of their self-chosen +appellation Egyptians. + +More than four hundred years have passed since these swarthy penitents +made their seven years' pilgrimage of cheating and pilfering through +Europe, and they are still a people as distinct from all other races +in their essential characteristics as they were on the day they first +humbugged our ancestors. The general improvement of society all over +the world has compelled them to abandon many of their vagabond ways. +They have no longer that complete organization in tribes and companies +which they used to preserve; they no longer claim the privilege of +governing themselves in all things by their own laws, and their earls +and captains no longer exercise the authority of life and death over +their subjects. A large gipsy encampment is a rare sight nowadays, and +even the gipsy features, owing to frequent intermarriages between the +tribes and the European race, are in a fair way of being obliterated. +But there are still many thousands of gipsies roaming about Europe in +small companies; they still preserve their ancient customs in secret; +and under all the restraints of civilization, even the most orderly of +them cherish their old vagabond propensities. The Gipsy physiognomy is +quite as marked as the Jewish, and the gipsy race is far more +distinctly separated from the rest of the world than are the children +of Abraham. Their speech, which is not, as some people suppose, a mere +farago of slang or thieves' latin, but a genuine language, has been +handed down from mother to child, and is still a living tongue--a fact +which is not a little remarkable, because the language has no +literature, and can only be perpetrated by tradition. The gipsies have +no written characters. And yet it would be hard to find a gipsy who +cannot speak the language, though few of them are willing to +acknowledge it. + +The problem of the origin of this strange people has exercised learned +brains ever since the civilized world became civilized enough to +perceive that there was a mystery about their presence in the midst of +Christendom. It seems to be pretty well agreed that they came into +Europe from Hindostan; but why they came, and why they called +themselves Egyptians are matters of dispute. Grellman in Germany, and +Hoyland and Borrow in England have hitherto been the most esteemed +authorities on the subject of gipsies; but we have now a new work, by +Walter and James Simson, which promises to shove the older books +aside. It is a rather outlandish production, but on that very account +perhaps more appropriate to its subject, Mr. Walter having spent some +seventeen years poking about gipsy encampments, peeping into their +huts, studying their cookery, scraping up odds and ends of their +language, learning how they picked pockets, told fortunes, robbed +hen-roosts, stole horses, married their wives and divorced them, +fought with each other, protected their friends, and pursued their +enemies with unrelenting vengeance; having gathered up a great store +of interesting anecdotes and historical notes, and got to know, in +fine, more about the gipsies of Scotland than any other man, probably, +who ever lived--having done all this, Mr. Walter Simson died one day +and left an ill-digested manuscript {704} book on his pet subject, +which Mr. James Simson took up, annotated, enlarged, and published. +Mr. Walter's book, if it was not a model of literary neatness, was +unpretentious, entertaining, and full of valuable information. Mr. +James, however, must needs add to it, first an advertisement, then a +preface, then an introduction, and lastly a long-drawn disquisition, +all of which are tiresome to the last degree, and not worth a tenth of +the space they fill. Besides, Mr. James Simson has a bad temper, and +it is not pleasant to read his arguments, even when he argues against +an imaginary adversary. He has a theory of his own about the origin of +the gipsies, to which we do not purpose to commit ourselves; but it is +curious enough to be stated, so that our readers may judge of it for +themselves. + +An intelligent gipsy once told Mr. Simson that his race sprang from a +body of men-a cross between the Arabs and Egyptians--who left Egypt in +the train of the Jews. Now we read in Exodus xii. 38, that "a mixed +multitude went up also with them," [_i.e._, with the Jews out of +Egypt;] and from the fact stated in Numbers xi. 4, that "the mixed +multitude that was among them fell a lusting" for flesh, it would +appear that these refugees had not amalgamated with the Jews, but only +journeyed in company with them. Since this multitude were not children +of the promise, and had no call from God to go out from among the +Egyptians and journey to a land of peace and plenty, their condition +in Egypt must have been a hard one, or they would not have entered +upon a long and painful wandering to escape from it. No doubt, says +Mr. Simson, they were slaves, like the Jews; probably descendants of +the Hyksos, or "Shepherd Kings," who possessed the land before its +conquest by the Pharaohs; perhaps descendents of these Hyksos by +Egyptian women. God had promised Canaan, however, only to the +Israelites; the "mixed multitudes" could have no share in the +inheritance; so they probably separated from the Jews in the +wilderness, and wandered eastward into Hindostan. Coming into that +country from a long servitude, they would naturally have been timid of +mixing with the native inhabitants, disposed to cling together for +mutual protection, loose in their notions of right and wrong and the +laws of property. Every man's hand would have been against them, and +they would have been no man's friend. The lawless and migratory habits +engendered by their isolation would soon have become fixed and +hereditary; and so, to hasten to a conclusion, the mixed multitude of +Egyptians would have grown to be, in the course of a few hundreds of +generations, more or less, a race of horse-thieves and +fortune-tellers. + +This theory accounts for the fact that the gipsies call themselves +Egyptians, while their language and many other peculiarities are +strongly redolent of Hindostan. It is true that no Egyptian words have +been detected in their speech, while its resemblance to Hindostance +dialects is very strong; but then just think what an unconscionably +long time it is since they came away from Egypt, and how easy it would +have been for them, in the absence of an alphabet and a literature, to +forget the language of captivity and acquire that of freedom. + +Why they came out of Hindostan into Europe, or why they waited to come +until the fifteenth century, is purely matter of conjecture. But that +Hindostan was their last abiding place before their appearance in +Germany, about 1417, there is, for various reasons which we need not +here enumerate, no reasonable doubt. + +Of their history and character in continental Europe, Mr. Simson tells +us but little, and that little is not new. We pass at once therefore +to the portion of his book which is devoted to the Scottish gipsies; +and when we have read that, we shall have a pretty clear idea of the +peculiarities of the race all over the world. + +{705} + +It is not certain when they first appeared in Great Britain; but they +were in Scotland at least as early as 1506 in which year they so far +imposed upon King James IV., that his majesty addressed a letter of +commendation to the King of Denmark, in favor of "Anthonius Gawino, +Earl of Little Egypt, and the other afflicted and lamentable tribe of +his retinue," who, having been "pilgriming" by command of the pope, +over the Christian world, were now anxious to cross the ocean into +Denmark. "But," concluded the Scottish monarch, with beautiful +simplicity, "we believe that the fates, manners, and race of the +wandering Egyptians are better known to thee than to us, because Egypt +is nearer thy kingdom." We see from this that the vagabonds still kept +up the fiction of a penitential pilgrimage, though it must have seemed +a long seven years' wandering which, beginning about 1417, was not +finished in 1506. In 1540 a still more remarkable document appears on +record, being nothing less than a sort of league or treaty between +James V. and his "loved John Faw, Lord and Earl of Little Egypt," +whereby the officers of the realm were commanded to assist the said +John Faw "in execution of justice upon his company and folk, conform +to the laws of Egypt, and in punishing of all them that rebel against +him." But this state of things did not last long. James, as we all +know, liked to go a masquerading now and then, in the character of +"the Gaberlunzie Man," [Footnote 175] or "the Guid Man of +Ballangiegh," and on one occasion, while in this dignified disguise, +he fell in with a gang of gipsies carousing in a cave, near Wemyss, in +Fifeshire. His majesty heartily joined in the revels; but before long +a scuffle ensued, in the course of which one of the men "came crack +over the royal head with a bottle." Nor was this indignity enough, for +suspecting that the "guid man" was a spy, the trampers treated him +with the utmost harshness, and when they resumed their march compelled +him to go along with them, loaded with their budgets and wallets, and +leading an ass. The king passed several days in this disgusting +captivity, but at length found an opportunity to send a boy with a +written message to some of his nobles at Falkland. He was then +rescued. Two of the gipsies he caused to be hanged at once; a third, +who had treated him with some kindness, he let go free; and he caused +an edict to be published banishing the whole race from the kingdom +under penalty of death. James died the next year, however, and the +edict was never enforced; nor were subsequent laws, of equal severity, +able either to got the gipsies out of the country or to check their +wandering and thievish propensities. A great many of the race attached +themselves, nominally as clansmen, to chieftains and noblemen, who +were willing and able to afford them protection. But a great many were +nevertheless hanged merely for being "by habit and repute Egyptians." +So they got to look upon themselves as a persecuted race. They learned +to deny their origin, to keep their language a secret, and to resent +with all the savage fierceness of their fiery natures, the slightest +attempt on the part of the "gorgios," (as they called the Europeans +among whom they had cast their lot) to pry into the hidden mysteries +of gipsy life. + + [Footnote 175: i.e. "Ragged begger."] + +In this country we know little about gipsies except what we have +learned from novels, and from those curious books by Mr. Borrow, on +the gipsies of Spain, in which tact and fiction are so strangely +blended that it is difficult to tell them apart. The gipsy, to the +average American mind, is a dark-featured woman in a red skirt, and +with a shawl drawn over her head; who tells fortunes and steals little +babies; who lives in a tent and cooks her meals in the open air, with +the aid of an iron pot suspended from two crossed sticks. And the +picture is not very far from the truth after all; for all the actions +it paints, the gipsies have many a time performed. {706} +Child-stealing, however, they are not so much given to as we commonly +suppose; for they have too many children of their own to indulge in +such a costly luxury; nor do many of them profess palmistry, although +the few who do lay claim to a knowledge of the mysterious art drive a +thriving business in it. We purpose to collect from Mr. Simson's book +on account of the Scottish gipsies as he found them; but we ought to +warn our readers that the author wrote many years ago, and that the +progress of society in Scotland has made great changes in the +condition of the tribe. If wandering gipsies, however, are not so +numerous as they were, and if they do not practice their peculiar arts +and customs so openly as they formerly did, they are very far from +being extinct; and, according to Mr. James Simson, have merely carried +unsuspected, into the bosom of orderly and respectable society, the +vagabond propensities, itching palms, savagery, wickedness, appetite +for loathsome carcasses--nay, even that dark unwritten language, +spoken by none but a gipsy of the true blood--which characterized them +in the days of Meg Merrilies or the Gaberlunzie man. + +The Scottish gipsies almost always traversed the country in bands of +twenty, thirty, or more, though so many were seldom seen together on +the road. While travelling they broke up into parties of twos and +threes, having according to all appearance no connection with each +other, and at night they used to meet in some spot previously agreed +upon. It was not their general custom to sleep in tents. They +preferred for their lodgings deserted kilns, or barns or out-houses. +The usual way was for one of the women to precede them, if possible +with a child in her arms, and coax from some tender-hearted farmer +permission to shelter herself for the night in one of the farm +buildings. When the family awoke in the morning they were pretty sure +to find the one miserable vagrant surrounded by a gang of sturdy +trampers, and some twenty or thirty asses tethered on the green. For +twenty-four hours after their arrival they expected to receive food +gratis from the family on whose land they halted. After that, no +matter how long they remained, they provided for themselves. The +farmers generally found it for their interest to treat the gipsies +kindly, for these curious people never robbed their entertainers. A +farmer's wife whom Mr. Simson knew, on granting the customary +privilege of lodging to one of the tribe, added by way of caution: +"But ye must not steal anything from me then." "We'll no play any +tricks on you, mistress," was the reply; "but others will pay for +that." The men of the band seldom or never set foot within the door of +the farmhouse, but kept aloof from observation. They employed +themselves in repairing broken china, and utensils of copper, brass, +and pewter; and making horn spoons, wool-cards, smoothing-irons, and +sole-clouts for ploughs, which the women then disposed of. A good deal +of their time was passed in athletic exercises. They were famous +leapers and cudgel players, and despite their instinct of retirement +they could rarely resist a temptation "to throw the hammer," cast the +putting-stone, or beat the farm laborers at quoits, golf, and other +games. They were musicians, too, and their skill with the violin and +the bagpipes often assured them a night's lodging or a hearty welcome +at fairs, weddings, and other country merry-makings. Working in horn +was their favorite and most ancient occupation, and such was the care +they bestowed upon it that one tribe could always distinguish the +handiwork of another. Their devotion to the art of tinkering obtained +for them the name of Tinklers, by which they are generally known in +Scotland. They were also great horse-dealers, or, what in their case +meant very nearly the same thing, horse-thieves. They were not +scrupulous as to how they obtained {707} the animals, but they were +rare hands at selling them to advantage, though when a customer +trusted to their honor many of them would serve him with strict +honesty. + +The women concerned themselves in domestic cares and in helping the +men to sell the articles they had made. It was the women who managed +all their intercourse with the farmers and other country people, and +who did most of the begging. In this art they displayed an aptitude +which partook of the character of genius. They never closed a bargain +without demanding a present of victuals and drink, which they called +"boontith"; and as they were ready enough to take by foul means what +they could not get by fair, the closest-fisted housewife in Scotland +seldom resisted their importunities very long. The fortune-telling, of +course, fell to the women. + +But petty larceny, after all, was their principal means of support. +They were expert pickpockets and daring riflers of hen-roosts. The +bolder spirits rose to the dignity of highwaymen, coiners, and cattle +thieves. The children were trained from infancy to thievish pursuits, +and almost every gipsy encampment was a school of practice like that +kept by Fagin the Jew, to which poor little Oliver Twist was +introduced by the Artful Dodger. When legitimate business was dull, +they picked each other's pockets in a friendly way, just for the sake +of keeping their hands in. Sometimes a pair of breeches was hung aloft +by a string, and the children were required to abstract money from the +pockets without moving the garments. If the young rascal succeeded, he +was praised and rewarded; if he failed, he was beaten. Having passed +through this stage of his probation, the neophyte was admitted to a +higher degree. A purse was laid down in an exposed part of the +encampment, in plain view of all the gang, and while the older members +were busied in their daily pursuits, the children exercised all their +ingenuity and patience to carry off the purse without being perceived. +The instructor in this training-school was generally a woman. By the +time he was ten years old, the gipsy boy was thought fit to be let +loose upon the community, and became a member of an organized band of +thieves. The captains, whose dignity was usually hereditary, dressed +well, carried themselves gallantly, and could not be taken for what +they really were, especially as they never showed themselves in the +company of their men. The inferior thieves travelled to fairs, singly, +or at most two together, and as fast as they collected their booty +repaired with it to the headquarters of their chief. This latter +personage always had some ostensible business--such as that of a +horse dealer--and it was easy for the gang to communicate with him +under cover of a bargain, without arousing suspicion! For ripping +pockets open they had a short steel blade attached to a piece of +leather, like a sail-maker's palm, and concealed under their sleeves; +or the women wore upon their forefingers large rings containing sharp +steel instruments which were made to dart forth by the pressure of a +spring, when the hand was closed. Of the dexterity of these +light-fingered gentry Mr. Simson tells the following story: + + "A principal male gipsy, of a very respectable appearance, whose + name it is unnecessary to mention, happened, on a market day, to be + drinking in a public house, with several farmers with whom he was + well acquainted. The party observed from the window a countryman + purchase something at a stand in the market, and, after paying for + it, thrust his purse into his watch-pocket, in the band of his + breeches. One of the company remarked that it would be a very + difficult matter to rob the cautious man of his purse, without being + detected. The gipsy immediately offered to bet two bottles of wine + that he would rob the man of his purse, in the open and public + market, without being perceived by him. The bet was taken, and the + gipsy proceeded about the difficult and delicate business. Going up + to the unsuspecting man, he requested as a particular favor, if he + would ease the stock about his neck, which buckled behind--an + article of dress at that time in {708} fashion. The countryman most + readily agreed to oblige the stranger gentleman--as he supposed him + to be. The gipsy, now stooping down, to allow his stock to be + adjusted, placed his head against the countryman's, stomach, and, + pressing it forward a little, he reached down one hand, under the + pretense of adjusting his shoe, while the other was employed in + extracting the farmer's purse. The purse was immediately brought + into the company, and the cautious, unsuspecting countryman did not + know of his loss, till he was sent for, and had his property + returned to him." + +At one time the gipsies had all Scotland divided into districts, each +of which was assigned to a particular tribe, and wo to the Tinkler who +attempted to plunder within the limits of any other territory than his +own! The chieftains issued tokens to the members of their respective +hordes when they scattered themselves over the face of the country, +and these tokens protected the bearers within their proper districts. +A safe-guard from the Baillie family, who held a royal rank among the +gipsies, was good all over Scotland. + +Besides their common Scottish Christian and surnames, they had names +in their own language, as well as various pseudonyms which they +assumed from time to time in different parts of the country. When they +were travelling they used to take new names every morning, and retain +them till money was received in one way or another by every member of +the company, or at least until noon-tide; for they considered it +unlucky to set out out on a journey under their own names. + +They appear never to have at a loss for "the best of eating and +drinking," and might sometimes be seen seated at their dinner on the +sward, and passing about their wine, for all the world like gentlemen. +Sir Walter Scott's father was once forced to accept the hospitality of +a party of gipsies carousing on a moor, and found them supplied with +"all the varieties of game, poultry, pigs, and so forth." That rich +and savory decoction known to the modern cuisine as _potage à la Meg +Merrilies de Derncleugh_, is a soup of gipsy invention, composed of +many kinds of game and poultry boiled together. Their style of cookery +seems rather barbarous, but we must admit that it is admirably adapted +to the wants of a rude and barbarous people, among whom ovens, spits, +pots, and stew-pans are unknown and often unattainable luxuries. To +cook a fowl, they wind a strong rope of straw tightly around the body +of the bird, just as it has been killed, with its feathers on and its +entrails untouched. It is then covered with hot peat ashes, and a slow +fire is kept up around it till it is sufficiently done. When taken +out, the half-burnt straw and feathers peel off like a shell, and +those who have tasted the food thus prepared, say it is very +palatable. One advantage the method certainly has: it affords a safe +way of cooking a stolen fowl unperceived. Meat is roasted in a similar +manner. The flesh is covered with a wrapping of rags, and then encased +in well-wrought clay. Being now covered with hot ashes or turned +before a fire, it stews in its own juices, which, being saved from +escape by the clay, combine with the rags, Mr. Simson says, to form a +thick sauce or gravy. A gipsy has a keen zest for this juicy dish; but +we doubt whether most people would devour it with a very good +appetite. Their favorite viand of all, however, can certainly not be +relished outside of the tribe. This is a kind of mutton called +_braxy_, being nothing less than the flesh of a sheep which has died +of a certain disease. It has a _sharp_ flavor which tickles their +palates amazingly. So fond of it are they, that Mr. Simson attributes +the great number of gipsies in Tweed-dale partly to the abundance of +sheep in that district, and the consequent plenty of braxy. "The flesh +of a beast which God kills," say the gipsies, "must be better than +that of one which man kills." Nevertheless they are not loath, on +occasion, to take the killing into their own hands, by stuffing wool +down a sheep's throat, so that {709} it may die as if by disease; and +then they beg the carcass from the owner. + +As far as can be ascertained, the gipsies have no religious sentiments +whatever, so that an old proverb runs: "The gipsy church was built of +lard and the dogs ate it." They have a word in their language for +devil, but none for God. Of late years it has been common for them to +have their children baptized, and sometimes they attend the service +which seems to be most in repute in the place where they happen to be; +but this is only because they do not want to be known as gipsies. They +marry very young, seldom remaining single beyond the age of twenty. +Their courtship used to be performed somewhat after the Tartar +fashion, the most approved way of getting a wife being to steal one; +not that the girl was unwilling, but they seemed to have a natural +propensity to carry their dishonest practices into all the relations +of life. One Matthew Baillie, a celebrated chieftain of the tribe in +the latter part of the 18th century used to say that the toughest +battle he ever fought (and he fought many) was when he stole his bride +from her mother. The ceremonies of marriage are very curious, and +also, we must add, very disgusting. The marital relation seems to have +been on the whole pretty well respected, though there is an old +reprobate named George Drummond, mentioned in Mr. Simson's book, who +used to travel about the country with a number of wives in his +company, and chastise them with a cudgel, so that the blood followed +every blow. Sometimes, after he had knocked them senseless to the +ground, he would call out to them, "What the deevil are ye fighting +at--can ye no' 'gree? I'm sure there's no sae mony o' ye!" Divorces, +however were very common, and were attended with great parade and many +curious ceremonies. The act of separation took place over the body of +a horse sacrificed for the occasion. The rites were performed if +possible at noon, "when the sun was at his height." A priest for the +nonce was chosen by lot, and the horse, which must be without blemish +and in no manner of way lame, was then led forth. + + "The priest, with a long pole or staff in his hand, [Footnote 176] + walks round and round the animal several times; repeating the names + of all the persons in whose possession it has been, and extolling + and expatiating on the rare qualities of so useful an animal. It is + now let loose, and driven from their presence to do whatever it + pleases. The horse, perfect and free, is put into the room of the + woman who is to be divorced; and by its different movements is the + degree of her guilt ascertained. Some of the gipsies now set off in + pursuit of it, and endeavor to catch it. If it is wild and + intractable, kicks, leaps dykes and ditches, scampers about and will + not allow itself to be easily taken hold of, the crimes and guilt of + the woman are looked upon as numerous and heinous. If the horse is + tame and docile, when it is pursued, and suffers itself to be taken + without much trouble, and without exhibiting many capers, the guilt + of the woman is not considered so deep and aggravated; and it is + then sacrificed in her stead. But if it is extremely wild and + vicious, and cannot be taken without infinite trouble, her crimes + are considered exceedingly wicked and atrocious; and my informant + said instances occurred in which both horse and woman were + sacrificed at the same time; the death of the horse, alone, being + then considered insufficient to atone for her excessive guilt. The + individuals who catch the course bring it before the priest. They + repeat to him all the faults and tricks it had committed; laying the + whole of the crimes of which the woman is supposed to have been + guilty to its charge; and upbraiding and scolding the dumb creature, + in an angry manner, for its conduct. They bring, as it were, an + accusation against it, and plead for its condemnation. When this + part of the trial is finished, the priest takes a large knife and + thrusts it into the heart of the horse; and its blood is allowed to + flow upon the ground till life is extinct. The dead animal is now + stretched out upon the ground. The husband then takes his stand on + one side of it, and the wife on the other; and, holding each other + by the hand, repeat certain appropriate sentences in the gipsy + language. They then quit hold of each other, and walk three times + round the body of the horse, contrariwise, passing and crossing each + other, at certain points, as they proceed in opposite directions. At + certain parts of the animal, {710} (the _corners_ of the horse, was + the gipsy's expression,) such as the hind and fore feet, the + shoulders and haunches, the head and tail, the parties halt, and + face each other; and again repeat sentences, in their own speech, at + each time they halt. The two last stops they make, in their circuit + round the sacrifice, are at the head and tail. At the head, they + again face each other, and speak; and lastly, at the tail, they + again confront each other, utter some more gipsy expressions, shake + hands, and finally part, the one going north, the other south, never + again to be united in this life. [Footnote 177] Immediately after + the separation takes place, the woman receives a token, which is + made of cast-iron, about an inch and a half square, with a mark upon + it resembling the Roman character, T. After the marriage has been + dissolved, and the woman dismissed from the sacrifice, the heart of + the horse is taken out and roasted with fire, then sprinkled with + vinegar, or brandy, and eaten by the husband and his friends then + present; the female not being allowed to join in this part of the + ceremony. The body of the horse, skin and every thing about it, + except the heart, is buried on the spot; and years after the + ceremony has taken place, the husband and his friends visit the + grave of the animal to see whether it has been disturbed. At these + visits, they walk round about the grave, with much grief and + mourning. + + [Footnote 176: It appears all the gipsies, male as well as female, + who perform ceremonies for their tribe, carry long staffs. In the + Institutes of Menu, page 23, it is written: "The staff of a priest + must be of such a length as to reach his hair; that of a soldier to + reach his forehead; and that of a merchant to reach the nose."] + + [Footnote 177: That I might distinctly understand the gipsy, when he + described the manner of crossing and wheeling round the corners of + the horse, a common sitting-chair was placed on its side between us, + which represented the animal lying on the ground.] + + "The husband may take another wife whenever he pleases, but the + female is never permitted to marry again. [Footnote 178] The token, + or rather bill of divorce, which she receives, must never be from + about her person. If she loses it, or attempts to pass herself off + as a woman never before married, she becomes liable to the + punishment of death. In the event of her breaking this law, a + council of the chiefs is held upon her conduct, and her fate is + decided by a majority of the members; and if she is to suffer death, + her sentence must be confirmed by the king, or principal leader. The + culprit is then tied to a stake, with an iron chain, and there + cudgelled to death. The executioners do not extinguish life at one + beating, but leave the unhappy woman for a little while, and return + to her, and at last complete their work by despatching her on the + spot. + + [Footnote 178: Bright, on the Spanish gipsies, says: "Widows never + marry again, and are distinguished by mourning-veils, and black + shoes made like those of a man; no slight mortification, in a + country where the females are so remarkable for the beauty of their + feet." It is most likely that _divorced female gipsies_ are + confounded here with _widows_.--Ed.] + + "I have been informed of an instance of a gipsy falling out with his + wife, and, in the heat of his passion, shooting his own horse dead + on the spot with his pistol, and forthwith performing the ceremony + of divorce over the animal, without allowing himself a moments's + time for reflection on the subject. Some of the country-people + observed the transaction, and were horrified at so extraordinary a + proceeding. It was considered by them as merely a mad frolic of an + enraged Tinkler. It took place many years ago, in a wild, + sequestered spot between Galloway and Ayrshire." + +The burial ceremonies of the tribes are not very fully described; but +we are told that the funeral is, or used to be, preceded by a wake, +during which furious feasting and carousing went on for several days. +In England, at one time, the gipsies burned their dead, and they still +keep as close as they can to that ancient practice, by burning the +clothes and some of the other effects of the deceased. It is the +custom of some of them to bury the corpse with a paper cap on its +head, and paper around its feet. All the rest of the body is bare +except that upon the breast, opposite the heart, is placed a cockade +of red and blue ribbons. + + + +The country people stood in dreadful awe of the savage hordes, and in +many places the magistrates themselves were afraid to punish them. +Their honors did not disdain now and then to share a convivial bowl +with the wandering Tinklers, and the man who sat to-day with his legs +under the provost's mahogany, may have slept last night in a deserted +lime-kiln, and dined yesterday off a "sharp"-flavored joint of +"braxy." As we have said already, the farmers knew it was safer to be +the friend of the gipsy than his enemy, for he was equally generous to +those he liked, and vindictive toward those he hated. Mr. Simson tells +many an anecdote of favors shown by the tribe to their neighbors and +favorites. A widow who had often given shelter to a chief named +Charlie Graham, was in great distress for want of money to pay her +rent. Charlie lent her the amount required, then stole it back again +from the agent to whom it had been pad, and gave {711} the widow a +full discharge for the sum she had borrowed of him. This same Graham +was hanged at last, and when asked before his execution if he had ever +performed any good action to recommend him to the Mercy of God, +replied that he remembered none but the incident we have just +narrated. A dissolute old rogue of a gipsy, named Jamie Robertson, had +been often befriended by a decent man named Robert or Robin Gray. One +day a countryman passed him on the road, and as he trudged along was +singing "Auld Robin Gray," which unfortunately Jamie had never heard +before. The only Robin Gray he knew of was his kind-hearted friend, +and he made no doubt the song was intended as an insult. When the +unconscious stranger came to the words "Auld Robin Gray was a kind man +to me," the gipsy started to his feet with a volley of oaths, felled +the poor man to the ground, and nearly killed him with repeated blows. +"Auld Robin Gray was a kind man to him, indeed," exclaimed Jamie in +his wrath; "but it was not for him to make a song on Robin for that!" +The gipsy chieftains often gave safeguards to their particular +friends, which never failed to protect them from robbery or violence +at the hands of any of the gang. These passports were generally +knives, tobacco-boxes, or rings bearing some peculiar mark. To those +who had ever injured them or their people, and to vagrants of another +race who were found poaching on their allotted district, they were +savagely vindictive. A man named Thomson, who had offended them by +encroaching on one of their supposed privileges--that of gathering +rags through the country, was roasted to death on his own fire. + +"But the most terrible instances of gipsy ferocity were witnessed in +their frequent battles among themselves--battles by the way, in which +the women bore their full share of wounds and glory. It was in an +engagement of this sort in the shire of Angus, where the Tinklers +fought with Highland dirks, that the celebrated gipsy Lizzie Brown met +with the mishap which spoiled her once comely face, and obtained for +her the sobriquet of "Snippy." When her nose was struck off by the +sweep of a dirk, she clapped her hand to the wound, as if little had +befallen her, and cried out in the heat of the scuffle to those +nearest her: "But in the middle of the meantime, where is my nose?" In +the spring of the year 1772 or 1773 an awful battle was fought between +two tribes at the bridge of Hawick: + + "On the one side, in this battle, was the celebrated Alexander + Kennedy, a handsome and athletic man, and head of his tribe. Next to + him, in consideration, was little Wull Ruthven, Kennedy's + father-in-law. This man was known all over the country by the + extraordinary title of the Earl of Hell, [Footnote 179] and, + although he was above five feet ten inches in height, he got the + appellation of Little Wull to distinguish him from Muckle William + Ruthven, who was a man of uncommon stature and personal strength. + [Footnote 180] The earl's son was also in the fray. These were the + chief men in Kennedy's band. Jean Ruthven, Kennedy's wife, was also + present, with a great number of inferior members of the clan, males + as well as females, of all ages, down to mere children. The opposite + band consisted of old Rob Tait, the chieftain of his horde, Jacob + Tait, young Rob Tait, and three of old Rob Tait's sons-in-law. These + individuals, with Jean Gordon, old Tait's wife, and a numerous train + of youths of both sexes and various ages, composed the adherents of + old Robert Tait. These adverse tribes were all closely connected + with one another by the ties of blood. The Kennedys and Ruthvens + were from the ancient burgh of Lochmaben. + + [Footnote 179: This seems a favorite title among the Tinklers. One + of the name of Young, bears it at the present time. But the gipsies + are not singular in these terrible titles. In the late Burmese war, + we find his Burmese majesty creating one of his generals "King of + Hell, Prince of Darkness."--See _Constable's Miscellany_.] + + [Footnote 180: A friend, in writing me, says: "I still think I see + him (Muckie Wall) bruising the charred peat over the flame of his + furnace, with hands equal to two pair of hands of the modern day, + while his withered and hairy shackle-bones were more like the + postern joints of a sorrel cart-horse than anything else."] + +{712} + + "The whole of the gipsies in the field, females as well as males, + were armed with bludgeons, excepting some of the Taits, who carried + cutlasses and pieces of iron hoops notched and serrated on either + side, like a saw, and fixed to the end of sticks. The boldest of the + tribe were in front of their respective bands, with their children + and the other members of their clan in the rear, forming a long + train behind them. In this order both parties boldly advanced, with + their weapons uplifted above their heads. Both sides fought with + extraordinary fury and obstinacy. Sometimes the one band gave way, + and sometimes the other; but both, again and again, returned to the + combat with fresh ardor. Not a word was spoken during the struggle; + nothing was heard but the rattling of the cudgels and the strokes of + the cutlasses. After a long and doubtful contest, Jean Ruthven, big + with child at the time, at last received, among many other blows, a + dreadful wound with a cutlass. She was cut to the bone above and + below the breast, particularly on one side. It was said the slashes + were so large and deep that one of her breasts was nearly severed + from her body, and that the motions of her lungs, while she + breathed, were observed through the aperture between her ribs. But, + notwithstanding her dreadful condition, she would neither quit the + field nor yield, but continued to assist her husband as long as she + was able. Her father, the Earl of Hell, was also shockingly wounded; + the flesh being literally cut from the bone of one of his legs, and, + in the words of my informant, 'hanging down over his ankles, like + beefsteaks.' The earl left the field to get his wounds dressed, but, + observing his daughter, Kennedy's wife, so dangerously wounded, he + lost heart, and, with others of his party, fled, leaving Kennedy + alone to defend himself against the whole of the clan of Tait. + + "Having now all the Taits, young and old, male and female, to + contend with, Kennedy, like an experienced warrior, took advantage + of the local situation of the place. Posting himself on the narrow + bridge of Hawick, he defended himself in the defile, with his + bludgeon, against the whole of his infuriated enemies. His handsome + person, his undaunted bravery, his extraordinary dexterity in + handling his weapon, and his desperate situation, (for it was + evident to all that the Taits thirsted for his blood and were + determined to dispatch him on the spot,) excited a general and + lively interest in his favor among the inhabitants of the town who + were present and had witnessed the conflict with amazement and + horror. In one dash to the front, and with one powerful sweep of his + cudgel, he disarmed two of the Taits, and, cutting a third to the + skull, felled him to the ground. He sometimes daringly advanced upon + his assailants and drove the whole band before him pell-mell. When + he broke one cudgel on his enemies, by his powerful arm, the town's + people were ready to hand him another. Still the vindictive Taits + rallied and renewed the charge with unabated vigor, and every one + present expected that Kennedy would fall a sacrifice to their + desperate fury. A party of messengers and constables at last arrived + to his relief, when the Taits were all apprehended and imprisoned, + but as none of the gipsies were actually slain in the fray, they + were soon set at liberty. [Footnote 181] + + [Footnote 181: This gipsy battle is alluded to by Sir Walter Scott, + in a postscript to a letter to Captain Adam Ferguson, 16th April, + 1819. + + "By the by, old Kennedy, the tinker, swam for his life at Jedburgh, + and was only, by the sophisticated and timed evidence of a seceding + doctor, who differed from all his brethren, saved from a + well-deserved gibbet. He goes to botanize for fourteen years. Pray + tell this to the Duke, (of Buccleuch,) for he was an old soldier of + the duke and the duke's old soldier. Six of his brethren were, I am + told, in the court, and kith and kin without end. I am sorry so many + of the clan are left. The cause of the quarrel with the murdered man + was an old feud between two gipsy clans, the Kennedys and Irvings, + which, about forty years since gave rise to a desperate quarrel and + battle at Hawick-green, in which the grandfather of both Kennedy and + the man whom he murdered were engaged."--_Lockhart's Life of Sir + Walter Scott._ Alexander Kennedy was tried for murdering Irving at + Yarrows-ford. + + This gipsy fray at Hawick is known among the English gipsies as "the + Battle of the Bridge."--Ed. ] + + "In this battle, it was said that every gipsy, except Alexander + Kennedy, the brave chief, was severely wounded, and that the ground + on which they fought was wet with blood. Jean Gordon, however, stole + unobserved from her band, and, taking a circuitous road, came behind + Kennedy and struck him on the head with her cudgel. What astonished + the inhabitants of Hawick the most of all, was the fierce and + stubborn disposition of the gipsy females. It was remarked that, + when they were knocked down senseless to the ground they rose again, + with redoubled vigor and energy, to the combat. This unconquerable + obstinacy and courage of their females is held in high estimation by + the tribe. I once heard a gipsy sing a song which celebrated one of + their battles, and in it the brave and determined manner in which + the girls bore the blows of the cudgel over their heads was + particularly applauded. + + "The battle at Hawick was not decisive to either party. The hostile + bands a short time afterward came in contact in Ettrick Forest, at a + place on the water of Teema called Deephope. They did not, however, + engage here, but the females on both sides, at some distance from + one another, with a stream between them, scolded and cursed, and, + clapping their hands, urged the males again to fight. The men, + however, more cautious, only observed a sullen and gloomy silence at + this meeting. Probably both parties, from experience, were unwilling + to renew the fight, being aware of the consequences which would + follow should they again close in battle. The two clans then + separated, each taking different roads, but both keeping possession + of the disputed district. In the course of a few days, they again + met in Eskdale moor, when a second desperate conflict ensued. The + Taits were here completely routed and driven {713} from the + district, in which they had attempted to travel by force. + + "The country people were horrified at the sight of the wounded + Tinklers after these sanguinary engagements. Several of them, lame + and exhausted in consequence of the severity of their numerous + wounds, were, by the assistance of their tribe, carried through the + country on the backs of asses, so much were they cut up in their + persons. Some of them, it was said, were slain outright, and never + more heard of. Jean Ruthven, however, who was so dreadfully slashed, + recovered from her wounds, to the surprise of all who had seen her + mangled body, which was sewed in different parts by her clan." + +The Ruthvens mentioned in this extract belonged to a distinguished +family among the gipsies. Their male head, in those days, was a man +over six feet in height, who lived to the age of one hundred and +fifteen. In his youth he wore a white wig, a ruffled shirt, a blue +Scottish bonnet, scarlet breeches and waistcoat, a fine long blue +coat, white stockings, and silver shoe-buckles. The male gipsies at +that time were often very handsomely dressed, and so too were the +women. A favorite color with them was green. Mary Yorkston, or +Yowston, the wife of the same Matthew Baillie, whose rough manner of +courting we mentioned just now, went under the appellation of "my +lady," and "the duchess," and bore the title of queen among her tribe. +Her appearance on the road, when she was pretty well advanced in life, +is thus described: She was full six feet in height, of a stout figure, +with harsh, strongly-marked features, and altogether very imposing in +her manner. She wore a large black beaver hat tied down over her ears +with a handkerchief; a short dark blue cloak, of Spanish cut; +petticoats of dark blue camlet, barely reaching to her calves; dark +blue worsted stockings, flowered and ornamented at the ankles with +scarlet thread; and silver shoe-buckles. Sometimes instead of this +garb she wore a green gown trimmed with red ribbons. All her garments +were of excellent, substantial quality, and there was never a rag or +rent to be seen about her person. Her outer petticoat was folded up +round her haunches for a lap, with a large pocket dangling at each +side; and below her cloak she carried, between her shoulders, a small +pack containing her valuables. She bore a largo clasp-knife, with a +long, broad blade, like a dagger, and in her hand was a pole or +pike-staff that reached a foot above her head. The male branches of +the royal gipsy family of the Baillies, a hundred years ago, used to +traverse Scotland on the best horses to be found in the country, +booted and spurred, and clad in the finest scarlet and green, with +ruffles at their wrists and breasts. They wore cocked hats on their +heads, pistols at their belts, and broad-swords by their sides; and at +their horses' heels followed greyhounds and other dogs of the chase. +They assumed the manners and characters of gentlemen with wonderful +art and propriety. The women attended fairs in the attire of ladies, +sitting their ponies with all the grace and dignity of high-bred +women. Two chieftains of inferior degree to the Baillies were +Alexander McDonald and James Jamieson, brothers-in-law, remarkable for +their fine personal appearance and almost incredible bodily strength. +They were often attired in the most elegant and fashionable manner, +and McDonald frequently changed his dress three or four times in one +market-day. Now he would appear in the best of tartan, as a Highland +gentleman in full costume. Again he might be seen on horseback, with +boots, spurs, and ruffles, like a body of no little importance. And +not infrequently he wandered through the fair in his own proper garb, +as a travelling Tinkler. He had a piebald horse which he had trained +to help him in his depredations. At a certain signal it would crouch +to the ground like, a hare, and so conceal itself and its rider in a +ditch or a hollow, or behind a hedge. There was a gallant gipsy in the +seventeenth century named John Faa, {714} who, if tradition is to be +trusted, won the heart of a fair countess of Cassilis, so that she +absconded with him. Many years later there was an extensive mercantile +house at Dunbar, the heads of which, named Fall, were descendants of +this same gay deceiver. One of the Misses Fall married Sir John +Anstruther, of Elie, baronet, but her prejudiced Scottish neighbors +could not forget that she carried Tinkler blood in her veins, and poor +"Jenny Faa," as they persisted in calling her, was exposed to many an +insult. Sir John was once a candidate for election to Parliament, and +whenever Lady Jenny entered the burghs during the canvass, the streets +resounded with the old song of "Johnny Faa, the gipsy laddie," which +recounts how-- + + "The gipsies came to my Lord Cassilis' yett, + And oh! but they sang bonnie; + They sang sae sweet, and sae complete. + That down came our fair ladie." + +It was not all a romance of love, and fine dresses, and free ranging +up and down the realm, this life of the gipsies. Magistrates were +found pretty often, not only to punish their repeated crimes of +robbery and murder, but even to put in force the old savage law +against "such as were by habit and repute Egyptians"--namely, that +"their ears be nailed to the tron or other tree, and cut off." It is +an odd fact that in this act were denounced not only gipsies, but +"_such as make themselves fools_," strolling bards, and "vagabond +scholars of the universities of St. Andrew's, Glasgow, and Aberdeen, +not licensed by the rector and dean of faculty to ask alms." There was +an old John Young, an uncle of the Charlie Graham before mentioned, +who had seven sons, and when asked where they were, he used to say +"They are all hanged." It was a pretty family record, but a just one. +Peter, one of the seven, was captain of a band of thieves whose +exploits were long remembered in the north of Scotland. He was several +times taken and sentenced to the gallows, but managed to escape. Once +being recaptured at a distance from the jail out of which he had +broken, the authorities were about to hang him on the spot, when some +one in the crowd cried out, "Peter, deny you are the man;" whereupon +he insisted that his name was John Anderson. Strange as it may appear, +he managed to get off by this device, as there was no one present who +could or would identify him. + +Alexander Brown, a dashing fellow, but a dreadful rascal, and one of +the principal members of Charlie Graham's band, after repeated +escapes, was hanged at last at Edinburgh, together with his +brother-in-law, Wilson. Martha Brown, the mother of one of the +prisoners, and mother-in-law of the other, was apprehended in the act +of stealing a pair of sheets, while attending their execution. When +Charlie Graham was hanged, it was reported that the surgeons meant to +disinter his body and dissect it. To prevent this his wife or +sweetheart filled the coffin with hot lime, and then sat on the grave, +in a state of beastly intoxication, until the corpse was destroyed. + +The last part of the volume before us, namely, the editor's +disquisition, we approach in fear and trembling. Old Mr. Walter Simson +seems to have been a good sort of a gentleman, for whom we cannot help +feeling a kindness, even though he did not write quite as well as +Addison; but this Mr. James Simson, editor, is a terrible fellow. He +assures us that all creation is full of unsuspected gipsies, who have +crept into every circle of society, insidiously intruded themselves +into the most respectable trades and professions; and contaminated the +best blood in Christendom. No matter where we live now, or where our +ancestors came from; it is quite possible--we are not sure that Mr. +James does not consider it almost as good as certain--that we may all +of us have some of that dark blood in our veins. Our +great-grandfathers may have been {715} hanged for horse-stealing, and +our grand-mothers, horrible thought! May have eaten "braxy." + +England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, France, Spain, Germany, and +Italy, all have contributed their quotas to the gipsy population of +the world, and even America itself is infested with descendants of the +vagabond tinklers of the last century. It is only about a fortnight +since the newspapers told us of the arrival of a band of wandering +"Egyptians" at Liverpool, on their way to the United States, fugitives +from the advancing civilization of Scotland, to the new settlements +and free woods and plains of the great west. Now and then, though not +very often, gipsy encampments of the old orthodox kind are seen in +this country, and there have been tented gipsies near Baltimore, says +Mr. Simson, for the last seventy years. He adds that a colony of them +has existed in New England for a hundred years, and "has always been +looked upon with a singular feeling of distrust and mystery by the +inhabitants, who are the descendants of the early emigrants, and who +did not suspect their origin till lately. . . . They follow pretty +much the employments and mode of life of the same class in Europe; the +most striking feature being that the bulk of them leave the homestead +for a length of time, scatter in different directions, and reunite +periodically at their quarters, which are left in charge of some of +the feeble members of the band." Pennsylvania and Maryland contain a +great many Hungarian and German gipsies, who leave their farms to the +care of hired hands during the summer, and proceed South with their +tents. + + "In the State of Pennsylvania, there is a settlement of them, on the + J---- river, a little way above H----, where they have sawmills. + About the Alleghany mountains, there are many of the tribe, + following somewhat the original ways of the race. In the United + States generally there are many gipsy peddlers, British as well as + continental. There are a good many gipsies in New York, English, + Irish, and continental, some of whom keep tin, crockery, and basket + stores; but these are all mixed gipsies, and many of them of fair + complexion. The tin-ware which they make is generally of a plain, + coarse kind; so much so, that a gipsy tin store is easily known. + They frequently exhibit their tin-ware and baskets on the streets, + and carry them about the city. Almost all, if not all, of those + itinerant cutlers and tinklers, to be met with in New-York, and + other American cities are gipsies, principally German, Hungarian, + and French. There are a good many gipsy musicians in America. + 'What!' said I to an English gipsy, 'those organ-grinders!' 'Nothing + so low as that Gipsies don't _grind_ their music, sir; they _make_ + it.' But I found in his house, when occupied by other gipsies, a + _hurdy-gurdy_ and tambourine; so that gipsies sometimes _grind_ + music, as well as _make_ it. I know of a Hungarian gipsy who is a + leader of a negro musical band, in the city of New-York; his brother + drives one of the avenue cars. There are a number of gipsy musicians + in Baltimore, who play at parties, and on other occasions. Some of + the fortune-telling gipsy women about New-York will make as much as + forty dollars a week in that line of business. They generally live a + little way out of the city, into which they ride in the morning to + their places of business. I know of one, who resides in New-Jersey, + opposite New-York, and who has a place in the city, to which ladies, + that is, females of the highest classes, address their cards, for + her to call upon them." + +We forbear quoting more about the American gipsies: the information +becomes fearfully suggestive, and it is all the more terrifying +because these people never acknowledge their descent, and however +sharply we may suspect them, we have no way of bringing the offence +home to them. The friend who shakes our hand today may be the grandson +of a vagabond who camped on our grandfather's farm, stole our +grandmother's eggs and poultry, and picked our great-uncle's pocket. +The ancestor of that beautiful girl we danced with at the last ball +may have had his ears nailed to the tree and then cut off, and the +gentleman who asks us to dinner to-morrow, may purpose entertaining us +with "sharps"-flavored mutton and a savory stew of beef juice and old +rags. + +------ + +{716} + + +NEW PUBLICATIONS. + + +THIRTY YEARS OF ARMY LIFE ON THE BORDER. +Comprising descriptions of the Indian Nomads of the Plains; +explorations of new territory; a trip across the Rocky Mountains in +the winter; descriptions of the habits of different animals found in +the West, and the methods of hunting them; with incidents in the life +of different frontier men, etc., etc. By Colonel R. B. Marcy, U.S.A., +author of "The Prairie Traveller." With numerous illustrations. +New-York: Harper & Brothers. 1866. + +Colonel Marcy, as appears from the title of his book, has passed the +greater portion of his life among the trappers and Indians of the +frontier. His descriptions are consequently authentic, and his lively, +picturesque style makes them also extremely interesting and agreeable. +When we add to this the pleasant accompaniment of fine typographical +execution and numerous spirited illustrations, we have said enough to +recommend the book to the lovers of information combined with +entertainment, and will leave the following specimen to speak for the +whole work. + +THE COLORADO CAÑON. + +I refer to that portion of the Colorado, extending from near the +confluence of Grand and Green rivers, which is known as the "Big Cañon +of the Colorado." This cañon is without doubt one of the most +stupendous freaks of nature that can be found upon the face of the +earth. It appears that by some great paroxysmal, convulsive throe in +the mysterious economy of the wise laws of nature, an elevated chain +of mountains has been reft asunder, as if to admit a passage for the +river along the level of the grade at the base. The walls of this +majestic defile, so far as they have been seen, are nearly +perpendicular; and although we have no exact data upon which to base a +positive calculation of their altitude, yet our information is amply +sufficient to warrant the assertion that it far exceeds anything of +the kind elsewhere known. + +The first published account of this remarkable defile was contained in +the works of Castenada, giving a description of the expedition of Don +Francisco Vasquez de Coronado in search of the "seven cities of +Cibola"--in 1540-1. + +He went from the city of Mexico to Sonora, and from thence penetrated +to Cibola; and while there despatched an auxiliary expedition, under +the command of Don Garcia Lopez de Cardenas, to explore a river which +emptied into the Gulf of California, called "_Rio del Tison,_" and +which, of course, was the _Rio Colorado_. + +On reaching the vicinity of the river, he found a race of natives, of +very great stature, who lived in subterranean tenements covered with +straw or grass. He says, when these Indians travelled in very cold +weather, they carried in their hands a firebrand, with which they kept +themselves warm. + +Captain Sitgreaves, who in 1862 met the Mohave Indians on the Colorado +river, says "they are over six feet tall;" and Mr. R. H. Kern, a very +intelligent and reliable gentleman, who was attached to the same +expedition, and visited the lower part of the great cañon of the +Colorado, says: "The same manners and customs (as those described by +Castenada) are peculiar to all the different tribes inhabiting the +valley of the Colorado, even to the use of the brand for warming the +body. These Indians, as a mass, are the largest and best-formed men I +ever saw, their average height being an inch over six feet." + +The Spanish explorer says he travelled for several days along the +crest of the lofty bluff bordering the cañon, which he estimated to be +three leagues high, and he found no place where he could pass down to +the water from the summits. He once made the attempt at a place where +but few obstacles seemed to interfere with the descent, and started +three of his most active men. They were gone the greater part of the +day, and on their return informed him that they had only succeeded in +reaching a rock about one third the distance down. This rock, he says, +appeared from the top of the cañon about six feet high, but they +informed him that it was as high as the spire of the cathedral at +Seville in Spain. + +The river itself looked from the summit of the cañon, to be something +like a fathom in width, but the Indians assured him it was half a +league wide. + +Antoine Lereux, one of the most reliable and best informed guides in +New Mexico, told me in 1858, that he had once been at a point of this +cañon where he estimated the walls to be _three miles high_. + +{717} + +Mr. Kern says, in speaking of the Colorado: "No other river in North +America passes through a cañon equal in depth to the one alluded to. +The description (Castenada's) is made out with rare truth and force. +We had a view of it from the San Francisco mountain, N. M., and +judging from our own elevation, and the character of the intervening +country, I have no doubt the walls are at least fire thousand feet in +height." + +The mountaineers in Utah told me that a party of trappers many years +since built a large row-boat, and made the attempt to descend the +river through the defile of the cañon, but were never heard from +afterward. They probably dashed their boat in pieces, and were lost by +being precipitated over sunken rocks or elevated falls. + +In 185- Lieutenant Ives of the United States Engineers, was ordered to +penetrate the cañon with a steamer of light draught. He ascended the +river from the gulf as high as a little above the mouth of the gorge, +but there encountered rapids and other obstacles of so serious a +character that he was forced to turn back and abandon the enterprise, +and no other efforts have since been made under government auspices to +explore it. + +A thorough examination of this cañon might, in my opinion, be made by +taking small row-boats and ascending the river from the debouche of +the gorge at a low stage of water. In this way there would be no +danger of being carried over dangerous rapids or falls, and the boats +could be carried round difficult passages. Such an exploration could +not, in my judgment, prove otherwise than intensely interesting, as +the scenery here must surpass in grandeur any other in the universe. + +Wherever we find rivers flowing through similar formations elsewhere, +as at the "_dalles_" of the Columbia and Wisconsin rivers, and in the +great cañons of Red and Canadian rivers, although the escarpments at +those places have nothing like the altitude of those upon the +Colorado, yet the long continued erosive action of the water upon the +rock, has produced the most novel and interesting combinations of +beautiful pictures. Imagine, then, what must be the effect of a large +stream like the Colorado, traversing for two hundred miles a defile +with the perpendicular walls towering five thousand feet above the bed +of the river. It is impossible that it should not contribute largely +toward the formation of scenery surpassing in sublimity and +picturesque character any other in the world. Our landscape painters +would here find rare subjects for their study, and I venture to hope +that the day is not far distant when some of the most enterprising of +them may be induced to penetrate this new field of art in our only +remaining unexplored territory. I am confident they would be +abundantly rewarded for their trouble and exposure, and would find +subjects for the exercise of genius, the sublimity of which the most +vivid imaginations of the old masters never dreamed of. + +A consideration, however, of vastly greater financial and national +importance than those alluded to above, which might and probably would +result from a thorough exploration of this part of the river, is the +development of its mineral wealth. + +In 1849 I met in Santa Fé that enterprising pioneer, Mr. F. X. Aubrey, +who had just returned from California, and en route had crossed the +Colorado near the outlet of the _Big Cañon_, where he met some +Indians, with whom, as he informed me, he exchanged leaden for golden +rifle-balls, and these Indians did not appear to have the slightest +appreciation of the relative value of the two metals. + +That gold and silver abound in that region is fully established, as +those metals have been found in many localities both east and west of +the Colorado. Is it not therefore probable that the walls of this +gigantic crevice will exhibit many rich deposits? Companies are formed +almost daily, and large amounts of money and labor expended in sinking +shafts of one, two, and three hundred feet with the confident +expectation of finding mineral deposits; but here nature has opened +and exposed to view a continuous shaft two hundred miles in length, +and five thousand feet in depth. In the one case we have a small shaft +blasted out at great expense by manual labor, showing a surface of +about thirty-six hundred feet, while here nature gratuitously exhibits +ten thousand millions of feet, extending into the very bowels of the +earth. + +Is it, then, at all without the scope of rational conjecture to +predict that such an immense development of the interior strata of the +earth--such a huge gulch, if I may be allowed the expression, +extending so great a distance through the heart of a country as rich +as this in the precious metals, may yet prove to be the _El Dorado_ +which the early Spanish explorers so long and so fruitlessly sought +for; and who knows but that the government might here find a source of +revenue sufficient to liquidate our national debt? + +Regarding the exploration of this river as highly important in a +national aspect, I in 1858 submitted a paper upon the subject to the +War Department, setting forth my views somewhat in detail, and +offering my services to perform the work; but there was then no +appropriation which could be applied to that object, and the Secretary +of War for this reason declined ordering it. + +CHRISTINE; A TROUBADOUR'S SONG, +and other Poems. By George H. Miles. New York: Lawrence Kehoe. 1866. + +Mr. Miles's poem, "Christine," has {718} been already before our +readers, in the pages of the Catholic World, and we are sure that its +appearance in book form will be welcomed by all who have perused its +beautiful verses. + +It is the work of an artist, and as such, one likes to have it, as it +were, completely under view, and not scattered in fragments amidst +other productions which intrude upon our vision, and interrupt its +continuity. + +Mr. Miles has given us a poem of no ordinary merit. Powerfully +dramatic, it not only paints the scenes of the story in strong, vivid +colors, but brings the actors into a living reality as they pass +before us. Few writers of our day possess much dramatic power, and +this accounts for their short-lived fame. He who would write for fame +must give us pictures of real life, and not pure reflective sentiment. + +Poetry and its more subtle-tongued sister, music, are as much nobler +and worthier of immortality than are painting or sculpture, as the +reality is superior to the image. Poetry and music are the true +clothed in the beautiful, whilst painting and sculpture can only give +us beautiful yet lifeless images of the true. The Psalms of David +remain, but the Temple of Solomon and all its glory is departed. +Poetry, the purest form of language, is also the best expression of +divine, living and eternal truth, in so far as humanity can express +it. Being the expression of absolute truth, poetry and music are the +truly immortal arts which will live in heaven. No one ever yet +imagined that the blessed, in presence of the Unveiled Truth, will +express their beatitude in painted or sculptured images; but the +revealed vision of the inspired poet, who drew his inspiration at the +Source of truth, upon whose bosom he leaned, telling us of the saints, +"harping upon their harps of gold," and "singing the song of the +Lamb," finds a responsive assent in all our minds. Caught up into the +embrace of the infinitely true, and the infinitely beautiful, they +must necessarily give expression to that upon which the soul lives, +and with which it is wholly enlightened. + +There, too, they must possess a _quasi_ creative power of expression +of the true, (in so far as they are thus endowed by virtue of their +union with God, who is pure act, through the Word made Flesh,) just as +we possess it here in germ by the dramatic form, which actualizes to +us the otherwise abstract truth expressed. Hence the superiority of +the dramatic, in which of course we include the descriptive, over the +sentimental. Mr. Miles possesses this genius in no mean degree, as he +has already shown in his "Mahomet." The poem before us abounds in +dramatic passages of rare beauty. Let our readers turn to the third +song, and read the flight of Christine. They will find it to be a +description unsurpassed in the English language. The death of +"faithful Kaliph," and the knight's tender plaint over his "gallant +grey," forgetful of even his rescued spouse, introduced to us in the +flush of victory over the demon foe, just when our stronger passions +are wrought up to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, is one of those +sudden and thrilling transitions from the sublime to the pathetic +which may crown Mr. Miles as a master of the poet's pen. + +"Raphael Sanzio" dying, the first of the additional poems, possesses +much of the merit we have signalized, but its versification and +wording are too harsh for the subject. It is not the death of him whom +we have known as Raphael. It reads as though told by one who was +forced to admire, yet did not love, the great artist. There is a +charming little poem, entitled, "Said the Rose," which is worth all +the minor poems put together, if poetry can be valued against poetry. +We may say, at least, that it alone is worth many times the price of +the whole volume; and our readers, who may have already enjoyed the +perusal of "Christine" in our pages, will not fail to thank us for +this hint to purchase the complete volume. + +Mr. Kehoe, the publisher, is giving us some creditable books, as the +"Life and Sermons of Father Baker," the "May Carols of Aubrey de +Vere," and "The Works of Archbishop Hughes," bear testimony. The +present one is got up in a superior manner, both in type, paper, and +binding, and is a worthy dress for author's work. + + +HISTORY OF ENGLAND, FROM THE FALL OF +WOLSEY TO THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH. +By James Anthony Froude, M.A., late Fellow of Exeter College, Oxford. +Vols. V. and VI. 8vo, pp. 474, 495. New York: Charles Scribner & Co. + +Mr. Froude's thorough-going Protestantism is by this time too familiar +to our {719} readers for them to expect a very lively satisfaction in +reading the story of the reigns of Edward VI. and Mary which he has +given in these volumes. We have neither the space nor the inclination +to follow him in his review of those melancholy times. We prefer to +accord a hearty recognition to the undoubted merits of his work; his +graphic and picturesque style; his artistic eye for effect; his +excellent judgment in the examination of old-time witnesses; and the +rare self-control which in the midst of his abundance of hitherto +unused material has saved him from encumbering his pages and +overloading his narrative with facts and illustrations of only minor +interest. He gives us sometimes little bits of truth where we had +least reason to look for them. Cordially as he detests Mary the queen, +he is tenderer than most historians of his ultra sort to Mary the +woman. "From the passions which in general tempt sovereigns into +crime," he says, "she was entirely free; to the time of her accession +she had lived a blameless, and in many respects a noble life; and few +men or women have lived less capable of doing knowingly a wrong thing. +Philip's conduct, which could not extinguish her passion for him, and +the collapse of the inflated imaginations which had surrounded her +supposed pregnancy, it can hardly be doubted, affected her sanity. +Those forlorn hours when she would sit on the ground with her knees +drawn to her face; those restless days and nights when, like a ghost, +she would wander about the palace galleries, rousing herself only to +write tear-blotted letters to her husband; those bursts of fury over +the libels dropped in her way; or the marchings in procession behind +the Host in the London streets[!]--these are all symptoms of +hysterical derangement, and leave little room, as we think of her, for +other feeling than pity." The persecution, for which her reign is +remembered was partly the result, Mr. Froude thinks, of "the too +natural tendency of an oppressed party to abuse suddenly recovered +power." Moreover, "the rebellions and massacres, the political +scandals, the universal suffering throughout the country during +Edward's minority, had created a general bitterness in all classes +against the Reformers; the Catholics could appeal with justice to the +apparent consequences of heretical opinions; and when the Reforming +preachers themselves denounced so loudly the irreligion which had +attended their success, there was little wonder that the world took +them at their word, and was ready to permit the use of strong +suppressive measures to keep down the unruly tendencies of +uncontrolled fanatics." + +Mr. Froude's history will be completed in two more volumes. + + +A GENERAL HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH: +from the Commencement of the Christian Era until the Present Time. By +M. l'Abbé J. E. Darras. Vol. III. P. O'Shea, New-York. + +The period comprised by the third volume of this admirable history +extends from the pontificate of Sylvester II. A.D. 1000 to that of +Julius II. a.d. 1513. To our mind the terrible struggle which the +church sustained during those four eventful centuries is more +wonderful than her deadly strife in the days of Roman persecution and +martyrdom. The church is a divine-human institution; and inasmuch as +it is human, it must suffer from human infirmity, but the Spirit of +God abideth for ever in it, preserving the truth amidst heresies, the +purity of the Christian law amidst moral degradation, and at last +crowning. His spouse with new glories for her patiently borne +sufferings. + +On every page of the church's history, and on none more clearly than +that which records her life from the eleventh to the sixteenth +century, is that promise written, "And the gates of hell shall not +prevail against it." We again add our cordial commendation of the work +of M. Darras, and hope its publication will prove to the enterprising +publisher as successful as it is opportune. + + + +THE AMERICAN ANNUAL CYCLOPAEDIA AND REGISTER OF CURRENT EVENTS OF THE +YEAR 1866. Vol. V. New-York: D. Appleton. 1867. + +This is a valuable compendium of information respecting the current +events of the year. It is particularly complete as regards American +politics and the literature of the English language. On other topics +it is more general and superficial, especially so in its history of +the progress of science. For instance, there is no record whatever of +the history of geology during the year. The great defect of the +Cyclopaedia, as a whole, is an unnecessary minuteness in regard to +{720} persons and things of our own time and country which have no +real and permanent interest, and a corresponding lack of minuteness in +regard to matters of other times and countries which are really +important. It would be a good idea for the publishers to invite all +the scholars in the country to send in a list of titles of articles +whose absence they have noticed in consulting the work for +information, and from these to prepare a supplementary volume. In +regard to all questions relating to the Catholic Church, the +Cyclopaedia is remarkable throughout for its fairness and +impartiality--a merit which is to be ascribed in great measure to its +learned and genial editor, Mr. Ripley. + + +AUNT HONOR'S KEEPSAKE. +A Chapter from Life. By Mrs. J. Sadlier. + +TEN STORIES FROM THE FRENCH OF BALLEYDIER. +Translated by Mrs. J. Sadlier. + +THE EXILE OF TADMOR, AND OTHER TALES. +Translated by Mrs. J. Sadlier. + +TALES AND STORIES. +Translated from the French of Viscount Walsh. By Mrs. J. Sadlier. + +VALERIA, OR THE FIRST CHRISTIANS, AND OTHER STORIES. +Translated from the French of Balleydier and Madame Bowdon. By Mrs. J. +Sadlier. + +THE BLIGHTED FLOWER, AND OTHER TALES. +Translated from the French of Balleydier. By Mrs. J. Sadlier. + +STORIES ON THE BEATITUDES. +By Agnes M. Stewart, authoress of "Stories on the Virtues," etc. +New-York: D.J. Sadlier & Co. 1866. + +---- + +A FATHER'S TALES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. +First Series. By the author of "Confessors of Connaught." + +RALPH BERRIEN, AND OTHER TALES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. +Second Series. By the author of "Grace Morton," "Philip Hartly," etc. + +CHARLES AND FREDERICK, OR A MOTHER'S +PRAYER, AND ROSE BLANCH, OR TWELFTH +NIGHT IN BRITTANY. + +THE BEAUFORTS. A STORY OF THE ALLEGHENIES. +By Cora Berkley. + +SILVER GRANGE. A CATHOLIC TALE, AND +PHILLIPINE, A TALE OF THE MIDDLE AGES. +Compiled by the author of "Grace Morton." + +HELENA BUTLER. +A story of the Rosary and the Shrine of the "Star of the Sea." +Philadelphia: Peter F. Cunningham. + +These volumes are a valuable addition to our list of books for +Catholic children. + + +"Aunt Honor's Keepsake," by Mrs. J. Sadlier, presents a vivid picture +of the wrongs and outrages suffered by Catholic children and parents +from the agents of the so-called "Juvenile Reformatories." We also +have a translation of several instructive tales from the French by the +same talented writer. Agnes Stewart gives us a number of well-written +stories on the beatitudes. We heartily commend this effort to provide +suitable reading for Catholic children. It is a pressing want. Their +active minds eagerly demand something to read. If we do not provide +safe and proper reading for them, they will find that which is not so. + +We have also an addition of six new volumes to the "Young Catholic +Library," published by P. F. Cunningham, Philadelphia. The subjects +are well chosen and most of the stories beautifully written. We +notice, however, at times, a straining after high-sounding +expressions--an absence of that simplicity so necessary in such tales +for children. There is also a tendency in writers for children to +sprinkle in so much of the romantic and unreal as to make their story +a kind of "novelette." Such reading creates in the mind of the young a +feverish desire for romance, which can only be satisfied in after +years by the novel. + +There is enough in the realities of life to startle and fix the +attention of any child if properly presented. We trust a larger number +of books suitable for children may be provided by those writers who +have the time and talent requisite for the work. We know of no way in +which they can more usefully employ their pen. + +The style in which these volumes are issued makes them suitable for +gift-books and is creditable to the publishers. We would also like to +see some in plain, durable bindings, better suited for the hard usage +they receive in a Sunday-school or parish library. + + +BOOKS RECEIVED + +From D. & J. Sadlier &Co., New York. "The Bit O'Writin'," and Other +Tales. "Mayor of Wind-Gap and Canvassing," by the O'Hara Family. 12mo, +pp. 406 and 414 (The above are two new volumes of Banim's works.) +Parts 21, 22, 23, and 24 of d'Artaud's Lives of the Popes. + +From P. Donohue. Boston. +Annual Report of the Association for the Protection of Destitute Roman +Catholic Children in Boston, from January 1, 1865, to January 1, 1866. +Pamphlet. + +From P. F. Cunningham, Philadelphia. +Alphonso; or, the Triumph of Religion. A Catholic Tale. 12mo, pp. 878. + +From Robert H. Johnston & Co., +New-York. The Valley of Wyoming: The Romance of its Poetry. Also +specimens of Indian Eloquence. Compiled by a native of the valley. +12mo, pp. 153. + +------ + +{721} + +THE CATHOLIC WORLD + +VOL, III., NO. 18.--SEPTEMBER, 1866. + + +[ORIGINAL.] + + +THE DOCTRINE OF THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH CONCERNING +THE NECESSITY OF EPISCOPAL ORDINATION. +[Footnote 182] + + [Footnote 182: "A Vindication of the Doctrine of the Church of + England, or the Validity of the Orders of the Scotch and Foreign + Non-Episcopal Churches." By W. Goode, M.A., F.S.A., Rector of All + Hallows the Great and Less. London. 1852. + + "Does the Episcopal Church teach the Exclusive Validity of Episcopal + Orders?" By William Goode, M. A. New York. 185- + + "Vox Ecclesiae; or, The Doctrine of the Protestant Episcopal Church + on Episcopacy," etc. Philadelphia. 1866.] + +Within the past few years, certain circles of the Protestant Episcopal +Church have been thrown into no small commotion by a controversy which +has arisen between the two great parties, into which she is divided, +over the question, Whether or not it is her doctrine that episcopal +ordination is necessary to constitute a valid ministry? The contest +seems to have been opened by the Rev. William Goode, rector of All +Hallows, London, who in the year 1852 published a treatise maintaining +the negative of the proposition; "Is it the doctrine of the Church of +England that episcopal ordination is a _sine qua non_ to constitute a +valid ministry?" In support of his position, he adduced those articles +and other formularies of his church, which relate to this subject; the +testimony of those divines who drew up these standards, as +interpreting the same, together with the sense in which they were +received by their successors in the clerical office for the ensuing +hundred years; and the conduct of the church toward the Continental +Protestant societies and in the ordering of her own hierarchy for the +same period of time. So successful was this author in his argument, +and so triumphant was his vindication of this peculiar principle of +the Low Church party, that his work was at once hailed by them, in +England and in America, as the "End of Controversy" upon this point; +was adopted by their publication societies as an "unanswerable defence +of the validity of non-episcopal orders," and was claimed by one of +their leading journals to be effectual in "banishing and driving away +the last doubt, which hung upon some minds, from the boldness and +continuity of assertion that the Episcopal Church disallowed the +validity of other than episcopal orders." + +{722} + +How completely "banished and driven away" from some minds that last +doubt was, events of a startling character soon made manifest. + + "Certain clergymen of the diocese of New York adopted a course + destined to change the settled practice of the church, if not to + change its whole character. They turned their backs upon all + existing laws and all previous usage in connection with such + matters, and openly admitted to their pulpits ministers who had not + had episcopal ordination. . . . . Of course, an innovation so + startling and so daring occasioned much excitement. The Bishop of + the diocese issued a pastoral letter, in which, in the kindest + language and most reasonable spirit, he pointed out to those + gentlemen the unlawfulness of their course. And _there_, if they had + been lovers of order and of peace, the whole matter might have + rested. But, however gentle the reproof or remonstrance, it was + still an exercise of authority, and that was hard to bear. Therefore + the reverend gentlemen rushed into print at once, and strove to give + to the whole matter the air of simple controversy, on equal terms, + between the Bishop and themselves. They represented him as the + advocate of a narrow partisan policy, and not as their + ecclesiastical superior to whom they had solemnly promised + obedience, and whose duty compelled him to give them a reproof. + Their 'letters,' 'reviews,' and 'replies to the pastoral' have been + sent everywhere throughout the country, and have served to show that + some Episcopalians pay but little respect 'to those who are over + them in the Lord;' that they are not much disposed to 'submit to + their judgment,' and 'to follow with a glad mind and will their + godly admonitions.'" (Vox Ecclesiae, vi.) + +Such was the state of affairs, when a reply to "Goode on Orders" +issued from the Philadelphia press, professing to demolish its +conclusions and to clear the doctrine of the Episcopal Church, on the +point in question, from all ambiguity. This was the work of an elegant +and judicious but anonymous writer, who, though disclaiming all +tendencies to Puseyism, is, nevertheless, manifestly a High Churchman +of strong and well-founded principles, and who has received on account +of this reply, the highest commendations from many of the bishops and +clergy of his church. His book is entitled "Vox Ecclesiae." The +proposition he seeks to demonstrate is, "That the answer of the +Episcopal Church to the question, 'What is the true and scriptural +mode of church government, and what constitutes a true and proper +organization?' would be, 'That episcopal government and ordination by +bishops are the only modes of government or ordination recognized by +that church as scriptural or proper.'" In support of this, he also, +like his antagonist, relies upon the doctrinal and devotional +standards of the church; her laws and principles as set forth in her +canons and other official acts; those works which by her special +endorsement have been raised to a semi official authority; and, +lastly, the opinions of her eminent divines. The conclusion, which +this exhaustive argument claims to have established, is that the +church of England never recognized the validity of Presbyterian +orders, _as such_, but, on the contrary, has ever held the doctrine of +episcopacy by divine right and apostolical succession; a conclusion +diametrically opposite to that of the first writer, whose book has, by +this one, in the language of the American Churchman, been "So +effectually answered that we believe it will ask no more questions for +all time to come." This work in its time has received the highest +encomiums from the Right Rev. Bishops Hopkins, Kemper, Atkinson, Coxe, +Williams, Clark, and Randall, the Rev. Drs. Coit, Adams, Morton, +Mason, Wilson, Meade, and other leaders of that party of the Episcopal +Church, whose views it professes to embody, is already catalogued by +them "among the best standard works of the church," and has been +gratuitously circulated in its general seminary at New York, as a +thorough antidote to the dangerous heresy of Mr. Goode. + +From these two works, it might fairly be presumed, that we may, at +last, gain a tolerably correct idea of the doctrine of the episcopal +Church concerning the necessity of episcopal ordination. "Goode on +Orders" is the "unanswerable" organ of one great party of that church. +"Vox Ecclesiae" is the equally unanswerable organ of the other. And in +these two great parties, and in the {723} undefinable middle ground +between them, may be ranked at least ninety-nine one handredths of the +laity and nearly all the clergy of that large and influential +religious body. + +To us Catholics it certainly, at first sight, seems a little singular, +that in a church which bases upon an unbroken episcopal succession its +whole claim to external unity with the primitive Catholic Church, +there should be any doubt whether or not that church herself believes +and teaches that such an unbroken succession is essential to the +existence of a visible church; that in a denomination, which, for +ages, has claimed superiority to other Protestant sects on almost the +sole ground of her episcopally ordained ministry, there should be any +controversy as to her doctrine on the necessity of such a ministry. +But it is only one of those anomalies which meet us everywhere outside +the Ark of Peter; which are the inevitable results of deviation, +however slight, from the true source of apostolic unity. The ocean is +as deep beneath the Ship of Christ as it is miles away. He that goes +down under her very shadow is as effectually drowned as he that +perishes beneath a sky whose horizon is unbroken by a single sail. It +is as well among those who are most near us as among those who are +most removed that we must look for the old marks of error, and this +boldness of assertion and internal doubt is one of them. Before we +close, it may be given us to show that this doubt is indeed well +grounded and that this inconsistency is more consistent with the +actual _status_ of the Episcopal Church than many, even of her +enemies, would dream. + +Upon that fundamental principle which underlies the whole fabric of an +organized Christian society, namely, the necessity of some +authoritative ordination, there seems to be no question in the +Episcopal Church. That man cannot originate a church; that Christ did +originate one; that, conveying his power of mission and orders to his +apostles, he left it to them to convey to their successors; that by +them and by their successors it ever has been so conveyed; and that, +at this day, no man has any right or power to fulfil the office of a +minister of Christ unless he has received authority through this +source; are tenets common to all Christians who recognize a visible +church and believe in and maintain a regular ministry. However they +may differ as to the channel through which this power has descended: +whether, like the Presbyterians, denying the existence of a third +order in the ministry, they claim that priests and bishops are the +same, and thus that presbyters are the appointed agents of Christ in +perpetuating the line of Christian teachers, or whether, like +denominations far more radical, they confer on individual preachers, +of whatever grade, the right to raise others at their pleasure to the +same dignities and power--this principle is still maintained. It is, +therefore, but natural, that while Mr. Goode and his Low Church +followers scout the title "Apostolical Succession" as "monstrous" and +"heretical," their whole ailment should presuppose the existence of +the very state of facts, to which, in its most general construction, +that title is applied, and should admit the necessity of such a +"succession," through some channel, as the basis of all external, +collective Christian life. That the High Church party also abide in +this doctrine every page of "Vox Ecclesiae" makes manifest, and from +what one thus necessarily implies and the other expressly declares, we +feel safe in concluding that "succession in the mission and authority +of the apostles" is held and taught by the Episcopal Church as +necessary to the existence of a valid ministry. + +We may even go a step farther. If "tactual succession" signifies +merely that some visible or audible commission must pass from the +minister ordaining to the man ordained, without supposing any +particular act or word to be necessary to such "tactual succession," +we may regard this also as {724} being a point upon which +Episcopalians raise no issue. The High Churchman may know no other +"tactual" ordination than "the laying on of hands." Mr. Goode and his +party might perhaps scruple to adopt such an interpretation, for, +though scriptural and primitive, it is not of the essence of the +ministerial commission. But that "succession," perpetuated by means of +some actual commission, visibly or audibly moving from the ordainer to +the ordained, is necessary, neither of these adversaries will deny. + +Here, however, all acknowledged unity of doctrine ceases. "What is the +appointed channel of this ministerial authority?" "Is it confined to +one rank of the ministry, or possessed by two?" "Is _episcopal_ +succession necessary to the validity of holy orders?" are questions on +which their disagreement appears, to them, irreconcilable. The organs +of both parties here speak with no uncertain sound. Each denounces the +teachings of the other with unsparing acerbity. Mr. Goode +characterizes the doctrines of his opponents as "at variance with the +spirit of Christian charity" and "the facts of God's providence," as +"having no foundation in Holy Scripture, and leading to consequences +so dreadful that it is simply monstrous in any one to teach them." The +"voice of the church" with equal plainness of speech replies, "He who +looks upon Episcopacy as a thing of expediency, who talks of parity +between bishop and presbyter, and who denounces 'Apostolical +succession' as a _monstrous_ theory, has no place among them. HE IS +NOT A LOW CHURCHMAN? he is not an Episcopalian in any proper sense at +all." (p. 487.) + +The formal statement of the Low Church doctrine, as explained by Mr. +Goode, may thus be made: That the highest order of ministers, +appointed by Christ or enjoying any direct scriptural authority, is +that of presbyters or elders, in which order inheres, _ex ordine_, the +powers of government and ordination; that the apostles, selecting from +among the presbytery certain men called bishops, appointed them to +exercise these powers; that, consequently, government by bishops and +episcopal ordination rest upon apostolic precedent, and are sanctioned +by the constant observance of fifteen hundred years; that this +appointment, however, in no wise conferred upon such bishop any power +of order which he had not before, or deprived the remaining presbyters +of those equal powers which they possessed already: and, therefore, +that ordination by presbyters alone, although not regular or in +accordance with established precedent, is truly valid, and confers +upon the person so ordained all the rights and authority of a minister +of Christ. This doctrine is essential Presbyterianism. On the +questions of historical fact--whether the apostles did appoint bishops +and confine to them the office of ordaining others, and whether such +practice was adhered to unvaryingly from their day till that of +Calvin; as, also, on the relative weight and importance of such a +precedent, if it does historically exist--they certainly disagree. But +on the main question their decision is identical: that ordination is a +power of the presbyter by divine institution and of the presbyter +only, and that the episcopate, wherever it exists, possesses these +powers solely by virtue of the presbyterate which it includes. + +The doctrine of the High Church party, on the other hand, is thus laid +down in "Vox Ecclesiae:" That Christ instituted, either by his own act +or that of his apostles, three several orders of ministers in his +church, and to the first of these, called bishops, and to them alone, +intrusted the power and authority of ordaining pastors for his flock; +that this episcopate is, therefore, of divine commandment, and cannot +be neglected or abolished without sin, neither can any ordination be +valid or confer authority to preach the word or minister the +sacraments unless performed by bishops; that, consequently, +presbyterian orders, being bestowed {725} by men who have no power or +commission to ordain, are, _ipso facto_, void: EXCEPT in cases of real +necessity, where, if episcopal ordination cannot be obtained, +presbyters may validly ordain. This doctrine is, in the main, that +which we have always supposed the great majority of Episcopalians +help. As we have never seen the "exception" so fully stated in any +authoritative work as it is in this, we give it in the author's own +language, as it occurs in several portions of his book. Thus on page +62-- + +"'_Necessitas non habet legem_' was a Roman proverb, the propriety and +force of which must be acknowledged by all. In reference to our +present subject, one of the most eminent of the defenders of our +church uses almost the very words, viz. '_Nisi coegerit dura +necessitas cui nulla lex est posita_.' (Hadrian Saravia's reply to +Beza.) The principle then is fully admitted. Necessity excuseth every +defect or irregularity which it _really_ occasions." On page 313, an +extract from the same Saravia is given, as follows: "Although I am of +opinion that ordinations of ministers of the church properly belong to +bishops, yet NECESSITY causes that, when they are wanting and CANNOT +BE HAD, _orthodox presbyters can, in case of necessity_, ordain a +presbyter;" and the author says of it, "We take this as Mr. Goode +gives it." It is the strongest sentence in the whole passage, and yet +it contains no more than what nine tenths of all Episcopal writers +gladly allow, viz., (to use the words of Archbishop Parker,) "Extreme +necessity in itself implieth dispensation with all laws." Again, on +page 70, after noticing certain objections to this plea of necessity, +put forward by individual writers in the church, he continues; "There +is great force in these objections: nevertheless we think it far +better to grant all that the foreign churches claimed in the way of +necessity, inasmuch as the English Church certainly did so at the +time." A still more definite statement of the same "exception" occurs +on pages 82 and 83: "As regards the question before us, the High +Churchman and the Low Churchman unite in considering episcopacy a +divine institution, and a properly derived authority a _sine qua non_ +to lawful ministering in the church. They also agree in believing that +real necessity in this, as in every other matter, abrogates law and +makes valid whatever is performed under it." We have no wish to +multiply quotations, but on this important point we desire to fall +into no error and to be guilty of no misrepresentation. We have +preferred to give the "voice of the church" in its own words, rather +than in ours, and have no hesitation in repeating the definition we +have already given, as setting forth the High Church doctrine, +strictly according to its acknowledged organ: "Episcopacy is a divine +institution, and necessary, where it can be had. Where it cannot be +had, presbyters may validly ordain." + +The doctrine of the Episcopal Church, as a church, if, as a church, +she has any doctrine on the subject, must lie within these +definitions. Mr. Goode must be wholly right, and the "Vox Ecclesiae" +wholly wrong, or _vice versa_, or else both must have the truth, +mingled in each case with more or less of falsehood and confusion. If +we can reconcile the two, or if the teaching of either has that in it +which disproves itself, we may at last define the real position of +their church upon the question which involves her life. + +And here we must premise, that the words "order," "Office," etc., +which seem to be the gist of much of this controversy, are names, not +things. They mean, in the mouth, or on the pen, of any Individual, +just what that individual means by them, no less, no more. They have +never been defined authoritatively by Scripture or by any other +tribunal to which these parties own allegiance. When Mr. Goode uses +them, they may imply one thing. In the pages of "Vox Ecclesiae," they +may signify another. The whole contest, therefore, so far as {726} it +relates to the number of "orders," or whether that of the bishop is a +different "order," or only a different "office," from that of the +presbyter, is, in our view, one of names and titles only. The real +question stands thus: "Has a bishop, by divine institution, a power +which the presbyter has not, or is the same power resident in both, +and ordinarily made latent in the one, and operative in the other, by +virtue of ecclesiastical law and usage?" The answer to this question +will show how far the High and Low Church party really differ from +each other, and what is the variance, if any, between the "Vox +Ecclesiae" and Mr. Goode. + +It seems to us that the "EXCEPTION," which, equally with the rule, is +admitted by the High Church doctrine to be fundamental law, answers +this question once for all. For if, in any supposable emergency, +presbyters may validly ordain, and if persons so by them ordained have +power to preach the word and minister the sacraments, then either (1.) +Necessity confers a power to ordain upon those who have it not, or +else (2.) The power to ordain is resident alike in presbyters and +bishops, and the restrictions on its exercise by presbyters are, by +that necessity, removed. If the second of these positions truly +represent the High Church theory, then, between them and Mr. Goode's +adherents, there is no essential difference, and their war, with all +its bitterness and pertinacity, is one of human words and human facts, +and not of Christian doctrine. If, to avoid this fate, the first +alternative be the one adopted, the following difficulties must be met +and answered. + +1. It overthrows the entire doctrine of "succession." This fundamental +law of organic, collective, Christian life presupposes the existence +of an unbroken chain of ministers, transmitting their authority, +through generation after generation, from Christ's day to our own. It +presupposes that every man, who has himself possessed and transmitted +this authority, has received it in his turn from some other man who +possessed it and transmitted it to him, and so on back to Christ +himself. Christ thus becomes the sole source, and man the sole +channel, of ecclesiastical authority, and the right or power of any +individual to exercise the functions of the ministerial office depends +on his reception of authority therefor from this only source and +through this only channel. + +But if necessity can also confer authority, or rather, to put the case +in words more expressive of its real character, if, whenever the +appointed channel cannot be had and necessity of ministers exists, God +will himself from heaven confer the authority in need, the value of +this "succession" amounts to nothing. Orders, wherever necessary, will +be had as well without it as with it, and they who have it can never +with any certainty deny the validity of orders which have it not. +Christ still may be the sole source, but man is not the only, nay, nor +the most perfect and available, channel of this authority. There is +another, surer, nearer, more direct, conveying, only to proper +persons, the gifts of God, and free from all the doubts and dangers +which result from a residence of heavenly "treasure in earthen +vessels," and the necessity which demands it is the sole condition of +its use. The High Church party, if they adopt this position, must, +therefore, become more radical than any Christian church upon the +globe. They out-Herod even their great Herod, Mr. Goode, and are more +dangerous to the cause of "apostolic order" and ecclesiastical +authority than any Low Churchmen or Separatist that ever lived. + +2. It elevates human necessity above divine law. The law, by which +holy orders exist, and by which their transmission from man to man is +regulated, is unquestionably divine. "Vox Ecclesiae" goes so far as to +claim that their transmission, from bishop to bishop only, is of +divine precept, but, waiving that, it is acknowledged by all parties, +with whom we have to do at {727} present, that whatever be the human +channel, it is of Christ's appointment, and rests upon divine +authority. It is thus a _divine_ law which "necessity abrogates," a +positive institution and command of God which is to be disregarded and +disobeyed, and that because "necessity" demands it. + +But this necessity is a merely human one. Orders confers on the +ordained only the power to preach and to administer the sacraments, +and it is only that those things may be done, that God's law is +despised and set aside. Yet, though the eternal salvation of the human +soul may ordinarily depend upon the preaching of the word and on the +sacraments, still nothing is _absolutely_ necessary to eternal life +that may not take place between the soul and God, independently of +bishop, priest, or church. It is thus no necessity of _God's_ +creation, no necessity inevitably involving the eternal destinies of +man, that substitutes itself for the admitted law of God, but a mere +earthly need, a need based upon human views and customs and opinions, +which never received endorsement from on high, and finds no sanction +for its existence in Holy Writ. There is no irregularity which such a +position would not justify, no departure from God's ordinances which +it could consistently condemn. It would come with fearful self-rebuke +from that portion of the Episcopal Church, who for three hundred years +have practically ignored their brother Protestants, because they +judged of their own necessities and set aside the institutions of God +in order that those necessities might be supplied. + +3. It legitimates every form of error and schism. For, if "necessity +_confers_ orders," the sole question in every case is, whether the +necessity existed. If there was such necessity in Germany and +Switzerland in the sixteenth century, then Lutheran and Calvinistic +orders were as valid as Episcopal, and if that necessity continues, +they are valid still. If there was such necessity in Scotland, after +the abolition of the prelacy, and that necessity continues, the orders +of the kirk are valid at this day. If there was such necessity when +John Wesley ordained Dr. Coke, and that necessity continues, Methodist +orders are as valid as his Grace of Canterbury's are. There is no +stopping-place for these deductions. If "necessity confers orders," +not even the channel of _presbyters_ is necessary. No human instrument +at all stands between God and the recipient of his extraordinary +favor. In every case where the necessity exists, there God confers the +power of orders, and there is no sect so wild and heretical, no +ministry so dangerous and erratic, that may not claim validity upon +this ground, and that must not, on these principles, when necessity is +proven, be adjudged legitimate. + +But of this necessity who shall be the judge? Shall God, who, of +course, knows all the circumstances of mankind and estimates them at +their proper value? But then, to us his judgment is useless without +expression, and his expression is _revelation_. Are those who allow +the force of this plea of necessity prepared to admit all who claim +it, for the sake of Christian charity, or will they demand a +revelation from God to satisfy them that the "necessity" was _real_? +Yet, if God be the only Judge, they must admit all or reject all until +he speaks from heaven, and in the latter case, the "EXCEPTION" might +as well have been left unmade. Or shall the church judge? And if so, +what church? The church, from which Luther, and Calvin, and Cranmer, +and Parker separated? She had her bishops ready to ordain all proper +men, and if her judgment had been taken, there would have been no +occasion for men to plead necessity. The church, from which came forth +the Puritans and Methodists? She also had her bishops, and in her view +no necessity could ever have existed. So with every church. None that +are founded in Episcopacy could ever {728} admit a necessity without +supplying it in the appointed way. And none that reject Episcopacy +would care to inquire whether or not there was any such necessity. The +church could, therefore, be no judge. She is, in every issue of this +sort, a party, not an umpire; but, were she competent to judge, +wherein is her decree less valid, when from Rome she excommunicates +the Church of England, than when from London or New York she denies +ministerial authority to Presbyterians and Universalists? Or is it the +individual? There can be no doubt in this answer. It must be. No man +can judge of a necessity except he who is placed in it. A little +colony of Christians, cast away on some Pacific island, must decide +for themselves, whether they will ordain a pastor for their flock or +utterly dispense with Christian teaching. A man, whose creed differs +from that of the church in which he lives, and yet who feels an inward +call to preach the Gospel, as he understands it, must be the sole +judge of the necessity of call, upon the one hand, which commands him +to preach, and of conscience, on the other, which forbids him to +subscribe the creed which is the unrelenting condition of his +ordination by authority. Extend it to societies and communities of +men, and the rule is the same. These societies become themselves the +judges, whether or not, in their case, necessity exists, and no other +can judge for them. The law is universal. If necessity be a +justification, it must be necessity as judged of by the parties in +necessity, and not as judged of by God, unknown to men, or by a church +which either will supply the need or treat the whole matter as of +little moment. There thus becomes no limit to necessities. They are +moral as well as physical. They grow out of duties and +responsibilities, as well as out of distances and years. Obedience to +the voice of conscience is an indispensable condition of salvation, +and no necessity is greater or more potent than the necessity of that +obedience. When the Rev. Gardiner Spring was moved, as he believed it, +by the Holy Ghost, to do the work of a minister in the church of God, +there was not a regularly ordained bishop in the world who would have +ordained him, while holding the doctrines he professed. In his case, +without a violation of his conscience and the loss of his soul, +bishops "COULD NOT BE HAD," and presbyters must have validly ordained. +When Charles Spurgeon, rejoicing in the new-found light of the Gospel, +burned to tell other men the good that God had done to him, the moral +necessity was the same, a necessity which compelled him to disobey +what he believed to be a command of God, or to receive orders from +non-Episcopal hands. Is there any need of multiplying instances? Where +is the imaginable limit to which validity must be acknowledged and +beyond which it must cease? The High Churchman who starts with the +admission, that in case of "necessity," God confers the power of +order, can never stop till he has bowed the knee before every Baal +which claims the name of Christian and opened the gifts of God to +every man who demands priestly recognition at his hands. + +There are other objections to this theory, equally insuperable with +those already suggested. It can hardly be necessary, however, to +mention them. No candid mind, after seeing the real bearing of this +position on the whole question of a visible church, can hesitate a +moment to reject it. There remains only the other alternative, namely, +that necessity renders operation in presbyters a power possessed by, +but latent in, them, by removing the restrictions which, in ordinary +circumstances, apostolic precedent and ecclesiastical usage have +imposed; and as this is essentially the position advocated by Mr. +Goode, and as the difference between these parties is thus reduced, in +every case, to a question of historic or contemporaneous fact, which +no one but the individuals who plead it can adequately settle, we +conclude that {729} the sole contest as to doctrine is one of words +and definitions, and that on all material points of theory and faith +they perfectly agree. We thus feel justified in the conclusion that +the Episcopal Church of the present age has a doctrine concerning the +necessity of episcopal ordination, and that her doctrine is no less, +no more, than this: "The power of order is resident in bishops and +presbyters both, _ex ordine_, and is operative, under ordinary +circumstances, in bishops only, though in cases of necessity, +presbyters may exercise that power and validly ordain." + +This doctrine is logical, coherent, and conservative. No divine +institution is thereby set aside for a mere human necessity. No +destructive principle antagonistic to the doctrine of "succession" is +thereby introduced; no gate is thereby opened for a multitudinous +throng of orthodox and heretics, ordained and unordained, to bring +disorder and confusion into the Church of God. However fatal to the +high pretensions of the Episcopal Church in generations past, and to +any claim of exclusive apostolicity at present, this doctrine is, +nevertheless, most consistent with her actual _status_ in the +religious world. Thoroughly Protestant in doctrine and in worship, all +her affinities and tendencies are toward the Presbyterian and other +non-Episcopal denominations of the age. No church on earth, whose +episcopal succession can be traced to any apostolic source, has ever +recognized hers as beyond question, or admitted her claim to be a +portion of the Catholic Church of Christ. Her very episcopate itself +is, practically, as the recent events in New York have shown, a rank +of honor and of office not of power. Her alleged superiority, for her +bishops' sakes, can never bring her one step nearer to the Catholic +Church, while she retains her heresies or remains in schism; and, on +the other hand, her alienation from her protesting sisters must +increase with every generation while this allegation is maintained. +Far better, far more accordant with her actual position, is her +doctrine as thus evolved by Mr. Goode and "Vox Ecclesiae," and while +its enunciation cannot change her in our estimation, it will doubtless +draw nearer to her, in the bonds of love and brotherhood, all those by +whom she is surrounded and to whose fraternity she naturally belongs. +It is only a matter of regret that the barrier now destroyed was not +broken down long ago, and that the good influences, which the +Episcopal Church is so well calculated to exert, have not been working +on the masses of our non-Catholic brethren in America during all the +past eighty years. + +Nothing now remains but to retrieve that past. Let it be understood +that the Episcopal Church does not deny the validity of presbyterian +orders, but that at most she holds them irregular, and only that when +not given in necessity; that men of other denominations have clergymen +and sacraments equally beneficial with her own. Let her throw open her +doors to all religious bodies who thus preserve the "succession," and +unite with them in prevailing on those to receive it who have it not, +and make common cause with all such in stemming the tide of infidelity +and "liberalism" which is deluging our land. Then may her self-adopted +mission, however faulty in its origin, however riskful in its +progress, fulfil at least one portion of the work of Christ's Church +in the world, and, if she cannot feed men with the bread of truth, she +may preserve them from the more fearful poisons. + +In conclusion, we desire to correct an error into which the author of +"Vox Ecclesiae" has fallen, concerning the view of this same question +taken by Catholics. On page 57, he says: + + "The exaggerated or Romish theory is, that the possession of the + Apostolical Constitution and a properly transmitted succession is + enough to constitute a true and perfect church. Thus succession is + held to be everything," etc. + +{730} + +In one sense of these words, namely, that to _be_ the actual +organization founded by Christ and constituted, as he left it, in the +hands of the apostles, is to be a true and perfect church; they are +the faith of Catholics. But this is not the sense in which the author +uses them. The idea he thus expresses is, that we regard an external +succession in the line of apostolic orders as sufficient to make a man +a priest or bishop, as the case may be, and that such a succession +constitutes a church. This is a very prevalent, but very thoughtless, +error. It is true that we believe apostolic orders, in the apostolic +line, to be so absolutely necessary that no man, under any +circumstances, can perform any I without them. But we do _not_ +believe, that the possession of such orders by any organization makes +it a true church. Cranmer was lawfully ordained as priest and bishop +of the Catholic Church, and, whether as a schismatic under Henry, or a +heretic under Edward, his orders went with him and rendered every act +in pursuance of them valid. The bishops he consecrated were bishops, +the priests he ordained were priests, and if Archbishop Parker were in +fact consecrated by Barlow and Hodgkins, and either of them were +consecrated by Cranmer, and if the English succession be otherwise +unbroken, then every priest of that succession is a true priest, and +every bishop a true bishop. Their acts are valid acts, whatever their +doctrine or their schism. + +But this does not make the Church of England "a true and perfect +church." If the fact of her full apostolical succession were +established to-day, beyond the shadow of a doubt, and we would it +could be, her position would differ nothing, in our view, from that of +the Arian and Donatist churches of the fourth century, or of the Greek +Church for the past nine hundred years, churches whose orders were all +valid, whose doctrines were more or less at variance with Catholic +truth, whose sacraments conferred grace, but who were cut off from the +body of Christ's Church by their state of schism. + +The Catholic test of Catholicity is short and simple, "Ubi Petrus, ibi +Ecclesiae," said Ambrose of Milan, (Comm. in Ps. xl.,) and wherever +Peter is, Peter, who, "like an immovable rock, holds together the +structure and mass of the whole Christian fabric," (Ambrosii serm. +xlvii.,) and "who, down to the present time and forever, in his +successors lives and judges," (Care Eph. A.D. 431, serm. Phil.,) +wherever Peter is, there, and there only, do we see the church. +Catholics, collectively and individually, say with St. Jerome, +"Whoever is united with the See of Peter is mine," and, throughout the +world, whatever church, society or man is joined by the bonds of +visible communion with the Roman See, is in and of the body of the +Catholic Church, they and none others. No union with that See is +possible to those who do not profess, at least implicitly, the entire +Catholic doctrine, and submit to the legitimate discipline of the +church. No validity of orders without true doctrine, no truth of +doctrine and validity of orders without union with the Apostolic See, +can remedy the evil. To all outside that unity, however similar to us +in one point or another, we must repeat the words which St. Optatus of +Mela wrote to the African Donatists about A.D. 384: + +"You know that the Episcopal See was first established for Peter at +the city of Rome, in which See Peter, the head of all the apostles, +sat, and with which one See unity must be maintained by all; that the +apostles might not each defend before you his own see, but that he +should be both a schismatic and a sinner who should set up any other +against that one See." (Adr. Donat. ii.) Would that, of all who know +the truth of that which Optatus has written, and whom a thousand +hindrances are keeping from that rock of unity, we might say, as St. +Cyprian wrote of Antonianus, in the first ages, to the Holy Pope +Cornelius, (ad auton,) "He is in communion with you, that is, with the +Catholic Church." + +------ + +{731} + + +From All the Year Round. + +STATISTICS OF VIRTUE. + + +Small presents, it has been shrewdly said, prevent the flame of +friendship from dying out. A Stilton cheese, a bouquet of forced +flowers, a maiden copy of a "just-published" book, a _pâte de foie +gras_, a basket of fruit that _will_ keep a day or two, a salmon in +spring, or a fresh-killed hare in autumn--any thing that answers, as +a feed of corn or a bait of hay, to one's own private +hobby-horse--very rarely indeed gives offence. + +Be the influence such offerings exert ever so small, it is attractive +rather than repulsive in its tendency. They are silken fibres which +draw people together, almost without their knowing it; and although +the strength of any single one may be slight, by multiplication they +acquire appreciable power. Even if they come from evidently interested +motives, they are a tribute which flatters the receiver's self-esteem, +for they are an unmistakable proof that he is worth being courted. +They are a mutual tie which bind friendly connections into a firmer +bundle of sticks than they were before. The giver even likes the +person given to all the better for having bestowed gifts upon him. +There may exist no thought or intention to lay him under an +obligation; but there always must, and properly may, arise the hope of +increasing his good-will and attachment. It is clear that, when it is +desirable that kindly relations should exist between persons, any +honorable means of promoting such relations are not only expedient but +laudable. One stone of an arch may fit its fellow-stones perfectly, +but a little cement does their union no harm. + +As there is a reciprocal social attraction between individuals of +respectability and worth, so also there ought to be a gravitation of +every individual toward certain excellences of character and conduct. +And here likewise small inducements, trifling bribes, minor +temptations, help to increase the force of the tendency. Virtue is, +and ought to be its own reward; still, an additional bonus of +extraneous recompense cannot but help the moral progress of mankind. +It sounds like a truism to say that a _motive_ is useful as a mover to +the performance of any act or course of action. The fact is implied by +the meaning of the word itself. If good deeds can be rendered more +frequent by increasing the motives to their practice, the world in +general will be all the better and the happier for that increase. + +The problem in ethics to be solved, is, simply, _how_ men and women +may be most easily led to behave like very good boys and girls. We +urge children to do their best by rewards of merit. Why should not the +minds of adults be stimulated by similar persuasive forces? Nor can +worldly motives, if pulling in the same direction as moral and +religious motives, be productive of anything but good. And we want +motives to excite the good to become still more persistently and +exemplarily good, all the more that terror of punishment is +unfortunately insufficient to make the bad abstain from deeds of +wickedness. + +{732} + +With this view a philanthropic Frenchman, M. de Montyon, founded in +1819 annual prizes for acts of benevolence and devotedness, which, +beside addressing our higher feelings, appeal to two strong passions, +interest and vanity. And why should integrity pass unrewarded? Why +should bright conduct be hid under a bushel? In a darksome night, how +far the little candle throws his beams! So _ought_ to shine a good +deed in a naughty world. Most undoubtedly, to do good by stealth is +highly praiseworthy; but there is no reason why the blush which arises +on finding it fame should necessarily be a painful blush. Far better +that it should be a glow of pleasure. + +More than forty years have now elapsed since these prizes for virtue +were instituted, during which period more than seven hundred persons +have received the reward of their exemplary conduct. The French +Academy which distributes the prizes, has decided (doing violence to +the modesty of the recipients ) to publish their good deeds to the +world. After the announcement of their awards, a livret or list in the +form of a pamphlet is issued, recounting each specific case with the +same simplicity with which it was performed. These lists are spread +throughout all France and further, in the belief that the more widely +meritorious actions are known, the greater chance there is of their +being imitated. + +The awards made by the French Academy up to the present day to +virtuous actions give an average of about eighteen per annum. These +eighteen annual "crowns" have been competed for by more than seventy +memorials coming from every point of France, mostly without the +knowledge of the persons interested. In short, since the foundation of +the prizes, the Academy has had to read several thousand memorials. + +To Monsieur V. P. Demay (Secretary and Chef des Bureaux of the Mairie +of the 18th Arrondissement of Paris) the idea occurred of collecting +the whole of these livrets into a volume, so as to furnish an +analytical summary of the distribution of the prizes throughout the +empire, and of appending to it flowers of philanthropic eloquence +culled from the speeches made at the Academic meetings. The result is +a book entitled "Les Fastes de la Vertu Pauvre en France," "Annals of +the Virtuous Poor in France." + +No one, before M. Demay, thought of undertaking the Statistics of +Virtue. The subject has not found a place on any scientific programme, +French or international; whether through forgetfulness or not, the +fact remains indisputable. And be it remarked that the seven hundred +and thirty-two laureats to whom rewards have been decreed, represent +only a fraction of the number of highly deserving persons. In all +their reports ever since 1820, the French Academy has declared that it +had only the embarrassment of choosing between the candidates while +awarding the prizes, so equally meritorious were their acts. +Therefore, to the seven hundred and thirty-two nominees ought to be +added the two thousand four hundred and forty competitors whose cases +were considered during that period, making altogether a total of three +thousand one hundred and seventy-two instances of conduct worthy of +imitation which had been brought to light by the agency of the prizes. + +The book, not more amusing than other statistics, is nevertheless +highly suggestive. Serious thought is the consequence of opening its +pages. It is a touching book, and goes to the heart. After reading it, +many will feel prompted to go and do likewise by some effort of +generosity or self-denial. In any case, it cannot be other than a +moralizing work to bring to light so many instances of devotion, and +to set them forth as public examples. + +In some of his speculations our author, perhaps, may be considered as +just a little too sanguine. Certainly, if there are tribunals for the +infliction of punishment, there is no reason why tribunals should not +exist for the conferring of recompenses. How far they are likely to +become general, is a question for consideration. Also, it is {733} +true that newspapers give the fullest details of horrid crimes, while +they are brief in their usual mention of meritorious actions. But +before M. Demay, somebody said, "Men's evil manners live in brass, +their virtues we write in water;" and it is to be feared he is +somewhat too bright-visioned a seer, when he hopes that, through +Napoleon the Third's and Baron Haussmaun's educational measures, +coupled with the influence of the Montyon prizes, "at no very distant +day, the words penitentiary, prison, etc., will exist only in the +state of souvenirs--painful as regards the past, but consolatory for +the future." + +To give the details of such a multitude of virtuous acts is simply +impossible. M. Demay can only rapidly group those which present the +most striking features, and which have appeared still more +extraordinary--for that is the proper word--than the others, +conferring on their honored actors surnames recognized throughout +whole districts. It is the Table of Honor of Virtuous Poverty, crowned +by the verdict of popular opinion. Among these latter are (the +parentheses contain the name of their department): the Mussets, +husband and wife, salt manufacturers, at Château Salins, (Meurthe,) +surnamed the Second Providence of the Poor; Suzanne Géral, wife of the +keeper of the lockup house, at Florae, (Loèzre) surnamed the Prison +Angel; David Lacroix, fisherman, at Dieppe, (Seine-Inférieure,) +surnamed the _Sauveur_, instead of the _Sauveteur_ the rescuer, after +having pulled one hundred and seventeen people out of fire and water +--he has the cross of the Legion of Honor; Marie Philippe; Widow +Gambon, vine-dresser, at Nanterre, (Seine.) surnamed la Mére de bon +Secours, or Goody Helpful; Madame Langier, at Orgon, +(Bouche-du-Rhône,) surnamed la Quéteuse, the Collector of Alms. + +In the spring of 1839 almost the whole canton of Ax (Ariège) was +visited by the yellow fever, which raged for ten months, and carried +off a sixth of the population. It, was especially malignant at Prades. +Terror was at its height; those whom the scourge had spared were +prevented by their fears from assisting their sick neighbors, menaced +with almost certain death. Nevertheless, a young girl, Madeleine Fort, +who had been brought up in the practice of good works, exerted herself +to the utmost in all directions. During the course of those ten +disastrous months she visited, consoled, and nursed more than five +hundred unfortunates; and if she could not save them from the grave, +she followed them, alone, to their final resting-place. Two Sisters of +Charity were sent to help her; one was soon carried off, and the +second fell ill. The caré died, and was replaced by another. The +latter, finding himself smitten, sent for Madeleine. One of the flock +had to tend the pastor. Those disastrous days have long since +disappeared; but if the traveller, halting at Prades, asks for +Madeleine Fort's dwelling, he will be answered, "Ah! you mean our +Sister of Charity?" + +Suzanne Bichon is only a servant. Her master and mistress were +completely ruined by the negro insurrection in St. Domingo; but the +worthy woman would not desert them--she worked for them all, and took +care of the children. On being offered a better place, that is, a more +lucrative engagement, she refused it with the words, "You will easily +find another person, but can my master and mistress get another +servant?" The Academy gave their recompense for fifteen years of this +devoted service. Her mistress wanted to go and take a place herself; +she would not hear of it, making them believe that she had means at +her command, and expectations. But all her means lay in her capacity +for work, while her expectations were--Providence. It is not to be +wondered at that she was known as Good Suzette. + +{734} + +Such attachments as these on the part of servants are a delightful +contrast to what we commonly see in the course of our household +experience. They can hardly be looked for under the combined regime of +register-offices, a month's wages or a month's warning, no followers, +Sundays out, and crinoline. + +We look for virtue amongst the clergy. The devotion, self-denial, and +resignation often witnessed amongst them are matters of notoriety. +Nevertheless, it is right that one of its members should find a place +on a list like the present. In 1834, the Abbé Bertran was appointed +cure of Peyriac, (Aude.) He was obliged, so to speak, to conquer the +country of which he was soon to be the benefactor. For two years he +had to struggle with the obstinate resistance which his parishioners +opposed to him. His evangelical gentleness succeeded in vanquishing +every obstacle; henceforth he was master of the ground, and could +march onward with a firm step. At once he consecrated his patrimony to +the restoration of the church and the presbyter. He bought a field, +turned architect, and soon there arose a vast building which united +the two extremes of life--old age and infancy. He then opened +simultaneously a girls' school, an infant school, and a foundling +hospital. He sought out the orphans belonging to the canton, and +supplied a home to old people of either sex. To effect these objects +the good pastor expended seventy thousand francs, (nearly three +thousand pounds,) the whole of his property: he left himself without a +sou. But he had sown his seed in good ground, and it promised to +produce a hundred-fold. Rich in his poverty, his place is marked +beside Vincent de Paul and Charles Borromeo. + +Goodness may even indulge in its caprices and still remain good. +Marguerite Monnier, surnamed _la Mayon_, (a popular term of affection +in Lorraine,) seems to have selected a curious specialty for the +indulgence of her charitable propensities. It is requisite to be +infirm or idiotic to be entitled to receive her benevolent attentions. +When quite a child, she selects as her friend a poor blind beggar, +whom she visits every day in her wretched hovel. She makes her bed, +lights her fire, and cooks her food. While going to school, she +remarks a poor old woman scarcely able to drag herself along, but, +nevertheless, crawling to the neighboring wood to pick up a few dry +sticks. She follows her thither, helps her to gather them, and brings +back the load on her own shoulders. Grown to womanhood, and married, +Marguerite successively gives hospitality to an idiot, a crazy person, +a cretin, several paralytic patients, orphans, strangers without +resources, and even drunkards, (one would wish to see in their falling +an infirmity merely.) Every creature unable to take care of itself +finds in her a ready protector. Such are her lodgers, her clients, her +customers! Ever cheerful, she amuses them by discourse suited to their +comprehension. All around her is in continued jubilation, and +Marguerite herself seems to be more entertained than any body else. It +may be said, perhaps, that a person must be born with a natural +disposition for this kind of devotedness. Granted; but his claim to +public gratitude is not a whit the less for that. + +Catherine Vernet, of Saint-Germain, (Puy-de-dôme,) is a simple +lace-maker, who, after devoting herself to her family, has for thirty +years devoted herself to those who have no one to take care of them. +Her savings having amounted to a sufficient sum for the purchase of a +small house, she converted it into a sort of hospital with eight beds +always occupied. Situated amongst the mountains of Anvergne, this +hospital is a certain refuge for _perdus_, travellers who have lost +their way. It is an imitation of the Saint Bernard; and if it has not +attained its celebrity, it emanates from the same source, charity. + +{735} + +In looking through the lists and comparing the several departments of +France, it would be hard to say that one department is better than +another; because their population, and other important influential +circumstances, vary immensely between themselves. But what strikes one +immediately, is the great preponderance of good women--rewarded as +such--over good men. Thus, to dip into the list at hazard, we +have--Meuse, one man, five women; Seine, thirty-one men, ninety-eight +women; Loire, two men, six women; Côte-d'Or, three men, eleven women; +and so on. The nature of the acts rewarded--also taken by chance--are +these: reconciliations of families in _vendetta_, (Corsica;) +maintenance of deserted children; rescues from fire and water; +faithfulness to master and mistress for sixteen years; adoption of +seven orphans for fifteen years; maintenance of master and mistress +fallen into poverty; devotion to the aged; nursing the sick poor; +killing a mad dog who inflicted fourteen bites. When "inexhaustible +charity" and "succor to the indigent" are mentioned, one would like to +know whether they consisted in mere alms-giving. Probably not; because +by "charity" Montyon understood, not the momentary impulse which +causes us to help a suffering fellow-creature, and then dies away, but +the constant, durable affection which regards him as another self, and +whose device is "Privation, Sacrifice." + +In the period, then, between 1819 and 1864 seven hundred and +seventy-six persons received Montyon rewards, two hundred and eleven +of whom were men, and five hundred and sixty-five women. In M. Demay's +opinion, the disproportion ought to surprise nobody; for if man is +gifted with virile courage, which is capable of being suddenly +inflamed, and is liable to be similarly extinguished, woman only is +endowed with the boundless, incessant, silent devotion which is found +in the mother, the wife, the daughter, the sister. This dear +companion, given by God to man, is conscious of the noble mission +allotted her to fulfil on earth. We behold the results in her acts, +and in what daily occurs in families. Abnegation, with her, is a +natural instinct. "She may prove weak, no doubt; she may even go +astray: but, be assured, she always retains the divine spark of +charity, which only awaits an opportunity to burst forth into a +brilliant flame. Let us abstain, therefore, from casting a stone at +temporary error; let us pardon, and forget. Our charity will lead her +back to duty more efficaciously than all the moral stigmas we could +possibly inflict." + +The years more fruitful in acts of devotion appear to have been 1851, +1852, and 1857, in which twenty-seven and twenty-eight prizes were +awarded. Their cause is, that previously the Academy received +memorials from the authorities only. But after making an appeal to +witnesses of every class and grade, virtue, if the expression maybe +allowed, overflowed in all directions. Lives of heroism and charity, +hidden in the secrets of the heart, were suddenly brought to the light +of day, to the great surprise of their heroes and heroines. During the +same period there were distributed, in money, three hundred and +sixty-four thousand francs, (sixteen thousand pounds;) in medals, four +hundred and eighteen thousand five hundred and fifty francs, (sixteen +thousand seven hundred and forty-two pounds;) total, seven hundred and +eighty-two thousand five hundred and fifty francs, (thirty-two +thousand seven hundred and forty-two pounds.) The Montyon prizes are +worth having, and not an insult to the persons to whom they are +offered. The sums of money given range as high as one, two, three, and +even four thousand francs; the medals vary in value from five and six +hundred to a thousand francs: but even a five hundred franc or +twenty-pound medal is a respectable token of approbation and esteem. +In some few cases, both money and a medal are bestowed. + +{736} + +It may be said that the persons to whom these prizes are given would +have done the same deeds without any reward. True; and therein lies +their merit. And ought _money_ to be given to recompense virtuous +acts? Yes, most decidedly; because it will confer on its recipients +their greatest possible recompense--the power of doing still more +good. Money gifts are not to be depreciated so long as there are +orphans to sustain, sick poor to nurse, and infirm old age to keep +from starvation. + +Finally, is charity the growth of one period of life rather than of +another? On inspecting the lists, we find children, six, twelve, +thirteen years of age, and close to them octogenarians, one +nonagenarian, one centenarian! If noble courage does not want for +fulness of years, it would appear not to take its leave on their +arrival. + +------ + +[ORIGINAL.] + +THE CHRISTIAN CROWN. + +BY JOHN SAVAGE. + +I. + + Ten centuries and one had trod + Jerusalem, since when, + In mortal form, the Son of God + Died for the sons of men. + + +II. + + And they who in the Martyr found + Their Saviour, wailed and wept, + That gorgeous horrors should abound + Where Christ the Blessèd slept. + + +III. + + From clam'rous towns, and forests' hush. + As cascades from the gloom + Of caves, crusaders eastward rush + To win the holy tomb. + + +IV. + + Their corselets, steel and silver bright, + 'Neath swaying plumes displayed, + Now dance, like streams, in lines of light. + Now loiter on in shade. + + +{737} + + +V. + + Their crosses glow in every form + Inspiring vale and mart, + As through earth's arteries they swarm, + Like blood back to the heart. + + +VI. + + Tis mid-day of midsummer's heat; + Faith crowns the live and dead: + Jerusalem is at their feet. + Brave Godfrey at their head. + + +VII. + + Within the walls, the ramparts ring + As proudly they proclaim + Great Godfrey de Bouillon as king! + A king in more than name. + + +VIII. + + The ruby-budding crown to bind + About his head, they stood: + Another crown is in his mind; + For rubies, blobs of blood. + + +IX. + + "No. no!" and back the bauble flings, + "No gold this brow adorns + Where willed He, Christ, the King of kings, + To wear a crown of thorns." + + +X. + + Let not the glorious truth depart + Brave Godfrey handed down: + A king whose crown is in his heart, + Needs wear no other crown. + + +------ + +{738} + + +From The Lamp + +UNCONVICTED; +OR, OLD THORNELEY'S HEIRS. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE READING OF THE WILL. + + +Nearing the brink of a discovery, yet dreading to approach the edge, +lest a false step should precipitate you into a chaos of darkness; +holding the end of an intricate web in your hand, yet not daring to +follow the lead, lest you should lose yourself in its mazes--so I +felt on the morning succeeding my visit with Detective Jones to +Blue-Anchor Lane; so, likewise, had that astute officer and faithful +friend expressed himself when we had parted the night before. + +"You see, sir," he said, "the whole of what we have gathered this +evening may only mean that Mr. Wilmot has got mixed up with this De +Vos or Sullivan in some-gambling transaction, who, hearing that he's +left sole heir to poor Thorneley's fortune, means to hold whatever +knowledge he possesses as a threat over him to extort money. Then, as +to what passed at 'Noah's Ark,' why, it may mean a good deal, and it +may just mean nothing, as not referring to the parties we know of. I +don't wish to raise your hopes, sir; and until I've consulted with +Inspector Keene and seen what he's ferreted out, I wouldn't like to +say that we'd gained as much as I thought we should from our move +tonight." + +On my table I found a broad black-bordered letter. It was a formal +invitation on the part of Lister Wilmot, as sole executor, to attend +old Thorneley's funeral on the following Tuesday. + +The intervening days were dark, and blank with the blankness of +despair. Vigilant, energetic, and penetrating as was that secret, +silent search of the detectives, no real clue was found to the mystery +of the murdered man's death; no light thrown upon the black page in +the history of that fatal Tuesday evening, save what our own miserable +suspicions or fallacious hopes suggested. De Vos had entirely +disappeared from the scene, leaving no truce of his whereabouts. +Wilmot's public movements, though closely watched by the lynx-eyed +functionaries of the law, were perfectly satisfactory: and the +housekeeper remained closeted in her own room, intent, apparently, +upon making up her mourning garments for her late master, and fairly +baffling Inspector Keene in his insidious attempts to elicit a word +further, or at variance to what she stated at the inquest, by her +cool, collected, and straightforward replies to his 'cute +cross-questioning. And yet, in concluding the short interviews between +Mr. Inspector and Merrivale, at which I was generally present, after a +silent scrape at his chin, and a hungry crop at his nails, he would +still repeat with a certain little air of quiet confidence, "Good-day, +gentlemen. I think I am on the scent." + +Meanwhile the verdict at the inquest had gone forth and done its work; +and Hugh Atherton was fully committed for trial next sessions at the +Old Bailey. These were to take place early in November, and the +thought of how terribly short a time was left till then filled us with +a fearful, heart-sickening dread lest all, upon which hung the issues +of life or death, could not be accomplished in so little space. True +that a respite {739} might be asked, and the trial postponed until the +following sessions; but upon what plea could the request be preferred? +Some evidence not yet forthcoming. What evidence could we hope for? +upon what future revelation could we rely? At present there was +nothing, absolutely nothing, but our vague conjectures, our blind +belief in the acuteness of the police officers whom we were employing. + +And Ada Leslie, what of her? Every day, and twice a day, I went to +Hyde-Park Gardens, sometimes with Merrivale, sometimes alone, +repeating every detail, every minute particular, every circumstance, +and going though everything with her said or done by each one +concerned. It seemed to be her only comfort and support, after that +better and higher consolation promised to the weary and heavy-laden, +and which both she and Hugh knew well how to seek. + +"Tell me all," she would say--"the good and bad. I can bear it better +if I know nothing is kept back. To deceive me would be no real +kindness; and who has a better right to know everything than I, who am +part of himself? We shall be man and wife soon, in the sight of God +and the world, and then nothing can separate us in other men's minds: +but till then I am truly and faithfully one with him; and what touches +him touches me, only infinitely more because it is for him. Don't you +know what the idyl says about the fame and shame being mine equally if +his? But better and holier words still have been spoken, and I say +them often to myself now when I think of the time which is coming: +'They two shall be one flesh.'" + +Strangely enough, though fully conscious of Atherton's danger, of the +awful position in which he stood, she never seemed to take count for +one instant that the simple plea of innocence on his part, and the +belief of it on ours, would not weigh one feather's weight in the +heavy balance of evidence against him. + +Since my encounter with Mrs. Leslie, that lady and I had been cold and +distant, conversing the least possible within our power, and avoiding +one another by mutual consent. But one thing I noted, that come when I +would, early or late, with news or without, alone or accompanied by +Merrivale, whose visits seemed a great comfort to Ada, Lister Wilmot +was certain to have forestalled me, and given in his version, either +personally or by letter, of whatever had happened. And I found the +effect of this was, that Mrs. Leslie was speaking of Hugh as guilty, +though "poor Lister still persists in trying to think him innocent;" +and was publishing about wherever she could that I had _volunteered_ +to give evidence against him. Ada took a different view of Wilmot's +conduct. + +"I think, guardian, that Lister is almost mad," she said one day. "He +talks quite wildly sometimes to me. We never thought he had a very +clear head; and now he seems to be so incoherent and contradictory in +all he says, and this confuses mamma, and makes her get wrong notions +about it all. But he is so kind and good to me now. Once I thought he +didn't like me; but he is quite changed now." + +On the Saturday she was allowed to see Hugh, now lodged in Newgate +Prison. She went with Wilmot and her mother; but she saw him alone, +with only the warder present. Contrary to my expectations, she was +calmer and happier, if one can use such a word, knowing all the +anguish of the heart, than before. They had mutually strengthened and +comforted each other. She repeated to me a great deal of what passed +when I saw her in the evening; but she never said one word of what had +passed about myself; she never brought me any message; and when I +asked her if Hugh had expressed a wish to see me, she only replied, +"No, he thinks it is best not--at least at present." The same reply +came through {740} Merrivale, who seemed puzzled by it; the same +through Lister Wilmot, who was offensively regretful for me. I could +not bear it, and I gave utterance to the pent-up feeling which raged +within me. I told him that none of his meddling was needed between +myself and Hugh Atherton, and I hinted that the _rôle_ he had taken +upon himself to play now would before many days were over be changed +in a very unpleasant manner. A covert sneer curled his thin lips, and +there was an evil light in his eyes, as he replied that he was not +afraid of any plot that might be hatched against him, and he could +make excuses for my excited feelings "As to myself," he concluded, "_I +am prepared for everything_." + +Tuesday, the day appointed for the burial of Gilbert Thorneley, at +last arrived; and those invited to attend assembled for the time in +Wimpole street to pay their tribute of homage to the man who had swept +his master's office in his youth, and died worth more than a million +of money in the Funds. They flocked thither at the bid of his nephew +and reported heir; his comrades on 'change, his compeers in wealth, +his fellow-citizens; those men who had passed through the same +evolutions of barter and exchange, of tare and tret, of selling out +and buying in, of all that busy tumult of money-making in which the +dead man lying in his silver-plated coffin upstairs, and covered by +the handsome velvet pall, had borne his share even to the fullest. For +Wilmot had given orders for the funeral to be conducted on a scale +befitting the magnificence of the fortune which his uncle left behind +him; and the management of the affair had been placed in the hands of +an undertaker whose reputation for conducting people to their grave +with every mournful splendor of state and style was irreproachable. +But amid those funeral plumes, those heavy trappings, those sombre +mantles, those long hat-bands new and scarfs of richest silk, there +was no eye wet with sorrow, no brow shadowed by regret, no heart that +was heavier for the loss of the one going to his grave. It was a +funeral without a mourner. On Lister Wilmot's face was the +half-concealed triumph and elation, under an affected grief too +evidently put on for the dullest man to believe in; and the only one +who would have mourned, nay who did mourn, for the murdered man, lay +in his cell within the walls of Newgate, stigmatized with the brand of +wilful murder of him. So the gloomy pageant set out with its +hearse-and-four, its dozen mourning-coaches, its string of private +carriages belonging to the rich men invited there that day. So we went +to Kensal Green and laid Gilbert Thorneley in the new vault prepared +for him, lonely and alone--"dust to dust, ashes to ashes"--until the +resurrection. + +When the last solemn words had been read over the open grave and the +earth thrown with hollow sound upon the coffin, we turned to depart. A +greater portion of the large assembly dispersed in their carriages on +their various ways, and a few were asked to return to Wimpole street +and be present at the reading of the will. Whether bidden or not, I +had a reason for being there likewise, and had made up my mind what to +do; but to my surprise Mr. Walker came up as we were leaving the +cemetery, and invited me in Wilmot's name to go back with them. + +In the dining room where the inquest had been held we gathered once +again--some dozen of Thorneley's oldest acquaintances, the two +doctors, the rector of the parish with his three curates, myself, the +housekeeper, and the other servants of the dead man's household. The +guests grouped themselves in different knots round the room, talking +and gossiping together on the money market, the state of the country, +of trade, of politics, of I know not what, but mostly of the past and +future concerning the house in which we were assembled, of {741} the +murdered and the supposed murderer, whilst we waited for Lister Wilmot +and his two lawyers. The servants placed themselves in a row near the +door, the housekeeper somewhat apart behind the rest, as if shrinking +from notice. Very striking she looked in her deep mourning, gown, +fitting with perfect exactitude, her light hair streaked here and +there with silver threads braided beneath a close tulle-cap, very pale +very self-possessed, but with that dangerous look in the cold blue +eyes and peculiar motion of the eyelids which Merrivale had described +as "a scintillating light and a shivering." + +In less than a quarter of an hour the three came in--Thorneley's +executor and two lawyers; Smith, the senior partner--one of those +pompous old men who are met up and down the world, embodying, only in +a wrong sense, the conception of a late spiritual writer of "a man of +one idea," that idea being self--carrying in his hand a large +parchment folded in familiar form and indorsed in the orthodox +caligraphy of a law-office. The hum of conversation ceased as they +entered and advanced to the top of the room, where a small table was +placed, upon which the lawyer deposited the document. I glanced round +the room. All eyes were turned upon the three, who were now seating +themselves at the table in question, with the eager curiosity of men +going to hear news. The expression of triumph upon Lister Wilmot's +face had deepened yet more visibly; but underneath I fancied I +perceived a lurking anxiety, and especially when his eye fell with a +quick, sharp glance upon myself, and then as quickly looked away. The +two lawyers appeared very full of their own importance, and were very +obsequious to their new client. Lastly I looked at the housekeeper. +Two hectic spots now burned upon her singularly pale cheeks, and her +lips were tightly compressed; her hands, delicate and white for a +woman in her position, wandered restlessly over each other. Perhaps it +was but very natural agitation, for those who had served so long and +faithfully were no doubt expecting to be remembered in the will of +their late master. + +"Are you ready, Mr. Wilmot?" asked Smith, wiping his gold spectacles +and adjusting them on his nose. + +Wilmot bowed assent; and the lawyer unfolding the parchment, read in +loud, high, nasal tones, "The last will and testament of the late +Gilbert Thorneley, squire, of 100 Wimpole street, in the parish of St. +Mary-le-bone, London, and of the Grange, Warnside, Lincolnshire." + +A dead silence reigned throughout the room; as the saying is, you +might have heard a pin drop. One thing only was audible to my ear, +sitting a few feet distant, and that was the heavy pant of the +housekeeper's breathing. Smith read on. + +The said Gilbert Thorneley bequeathed to his nephew, Hugh Atherton, +the sum of £5000, free of legacy-duty; to his housekeeper an annuity +of £100 per annum for life; to his butler and coachman annuities of +£50 per annum for life, all free of legacy-duty, and £20 to the other +servants for mourning, with a twelvemonth's wages; to his nephew, +Lister Wilmot, the whole of his landed property, all moneys vested in +the Funds, all personal property, furniture, carriages, horses, and +plate, as sole residuary legatee. + +This was the gist and pith of Gilbert Thorneley's will, which further +bore date of the 19th of August in the present year, and was witnessed +by William Walker, of the firm of Smith and Walker, and Abel +Griffiths, Smith and Walker's clerk. By it Lister Wilmot came into an +annual income of something like £100,000; by it Hugh Atherton was cut +off with a mere nominal sum from the joint inheritance which his uncle +had from his boyhood upward in the most unequivocal manner and words +taught him to expect. A murmur of surprise ran through the company +assembled. {742} The equal position of the two nephews with regard to +their uncle had been too publicly known for the present declaration +not to excite the most unbounded astonishment. So certain did it seem +that the cousins would be co-heirs of Thorneley 'a enormous wealth, +that whispers had gone about pretty freely of that being the motive +which induced Hugh Atherton to commit the crime imputed to him--the +desire of entering into possession of the old man's money. I gathered +the thought in each person's mind by the broken words which fell from +them. "Then _why_ did he do it?" I heard one of the curates whisper to +the other, and I knew that they thought and spoke of Hugh, believing +him to be guilty. + +I waited for a few minutes after Mr. Smith had finished his pompous +delivery of this document, purporting to be the last will and +testament of the late Gilbert Thorneley, and then I rose from the +remote comer where I had placed myself and confronted the two lawyers. + +"Gentlemen," I said, "I take leave to dispute that will which has just +been read." + +A thunderbolt falling in the midst of us could not have had a more +astounding effect than those few words. + +"Dispute the will!" shouted old Smith, purple in the face. + +"Dispute the will!" echoed Walker. + +"Dispute the will!" reverberated all round. + +"God bless my soul, sir!" continued Smith, rising from his chair and +literally shaking with excitement, "what do you mean by that? Dispute +this will!" striking the open parchment with his closed hand; "upon +what grounds, Mr. Kavanagh--upon what grounds and by what authority +do you dare to dispute it, made by _us_, witnessed by _us_, and which +_we_ know to be the genuine and latest testament of our late client? +What do you mean by it?" + +"I dispute that will on the ground of there existing another and a +later will of Mr. Thorneley; and I dispute it on the part of those in +whose favor it is made. Gentlemen, I have a statement to make, to the +truth of which I am prepared to affix my oath." + +Involuntarily I glanced at Lister Wilmot. He was deadly pale; but he +returned my gaze very steadily, and I noticed the same evil light in +his eye as I had once before seen. Smith drew himself up and settled +his thick bull-throat in his white choker, whilst his junior partner +ran his hand through his hair, and seemed to prepare himself for +whatever was coming with a sort of "Do your worst--I don't care for +you" air. + +"I hold in my hand," I continued, "a memorandum from my journal, and +dated October 23, 185--, last Tuesday, gentlemen; and I beg your +particular attention to the extract I am going to read to +you--'Received a note from Mr. Gilbert Thorneley, of 100 Wimpole +street, requesting me to call on him this evening. Went at seven +o'clock; made and executed _a will_ for the same, under solemn promise +not to reveal the transaction until after his funeral had taken place. +In case of my death, to leave a memorandum of the same addressed to +Mr. Hugh Atherton. Saw the will signed by Mr. Thorneley and witnessed +by his footman and coachman. Made memorandum of same for H. A., as +desired. Put it with private papers, addressed to H. A.' That will, +gentlemen, being of later date, will, if forthcoming, upset the will +just read, and which is dated two months back." + +There was a profound silence for some moments, broken only by the two +servants. Barker the footman and Thomas the coachman, who both +murmured in low but distinct tones, "Right enough, sir; we did put our +names to that there dockiment." + +{743} + +"I don't quite understand your 'statement,' Mr. Kavanagh," said Smith +at last, with an air which plainly said, "And I consider myself +insulted by your making it." + +"It is quite plain and straightforward, Mr. Smith, though, of course, +you are taken by surprise. Allow me to hand you this copy of the +memorandum I have read to you, and to which I have signed my name." + +"But _where_ is that will, sir? Statements and memoranda go for +nothing, if you can't produce your proofs; and the will itself is the +only proof." + +"Where it is," I replied, "is best known to Mr. Wilmot, or yourselves, +or to both. I never saw it after leaving Mr. Thorneley's study on the +evening of the 23d." + +The two lawyers turned simultaneously to Wilmot. + +"Did you know anything of this transaction, sir?" asked Walker. + +"Only so far as came out at the inquest yesterday. Where is the will? +I ask. Let Mr. Kavanagh produce it." + +There was a world of defiance in his glittering eyes as he rose and +faced me. + +"Yes," he cried again, with a hard, ringing voice, "let Mr. John +Kavanagh produce it." + +"Gently, Mr. Wilmot," said Walker in an insinuating voice. "Allow us +to deal with this matter; it is really only proper that we should." + +"Only proper that we should," echoed old Smith in his peculiar nasal +twang. + +But Lister Wilmot waved them both imperiously aside; and advancing a +step forward, he said with an evident effort to control himself: + +"I don't see, Kavanagh, what you can gain by bringing forward this +absurd statement. Of course we all imagined that the mysterious +business upon which you saw my deceased uncle the last evening of his +life was in some way connected with making his will; and Mr. Smith, +Mr. Walker, and myself searched through his papers with the utmost +care, and with this idea in our minds; but no will, no codicil, no +letter, nor memorandum of later date than the one just read could +anywhere be found. Knowing what an eccentric character he was, we came +to the conclusion that, if any will posterior to this were made, he +had destroyed it immediately afterward.--Is this not so?" he turned to +the two lawyers. + +"It is so," answered Walker, for self and partner. "We made the +minutest investigation, and were all three together when the seals +were removed which had been placed on everything by the police in +charge of the house. Nothing could have been tampered with." + +I was fairly baffled, and stood considering what was the next best +thing to do, when an old gray-headed man stepped forward and said +that, if he might suggest, it would be satisfactory to hear in what +particulars the deed I had drawn up differed from the one just made +known. + +"Yes," said Wilmot, with something like a sneer; "let us hear what +were the contents of this will which you say you drew up." + +"Wilmot," I answered, "the one whom that will, to my mind, most +affected, for reasons which will presently be obvious to all who +listen to me now, was the only one who loved the old man in life whose +remains we have just followed to the grave--the only one who, I know, +mourns his death with all the sincerity of his true and noble heart. +In his presence I would never publicly have dragged forward a history +which is full of sin, of sorrow, of remorse. But he lies in a felon's +cell, charged, through a dark mysterious combination of events, and I +firmly believe a deeply-laid scheme to work his ruin, with a felon's +crime. In his interest therefore, first of all, I must speak. There is +also that of another concerned, who comes before most of those present +as a complete stranger; whether to _all_ I know not.--Gentlemen, I, +like you, believed until this day week that Gilbert Thorneley died +childless and a bachelor. {744} Five-and twenty years ago he married a +young and beautiful girl, an orphan, but possessed of an immense +fortune. He married her for her money. It was a joyless marriage, +without love, without happiness. One son was born to them, and shortly +after _the young wife died_. The boy grew up an idiot, hated, loathed +by his father, who sent him far away from his sight, and who for more +than fifteen years before he died never saw his child's face. Remorse +at last seems to have surged up in his heart, and he took a resolution +to make what reparation he could for his past neglect. This is all +which the deceased, Mr. Thorneley, confided to me in plain words; at +the rest I can only darkly guess; but that much more might have been +told which never passed his lips, that some terrible secret of the +past remains still unrevealed, I am bound to say I feel convinced from +the manner in which that little was revealed to me. Gentlemen, the +will which I executed last Tuesday evening, and saw witnessed by the +two servants now present, after bequeathing £10,000 a year to his +nephew, Hugh Atherton, left the whole and entire of Gilbert +Thorneley's property, landed, personal, and in the funds, to his idiot +son, Francis Gilbert Thorneley, now living; and constituted Hugh +Atherton as sole guardian of his cousin. With the exception of the +same small legacies to the domestics of his household, no other +bequest whatever was made; no other name mentioned. This will was +executed as a tardy reparation for some wrong done to his dead wife." + +There was the sound of a dull, heavy fall, and a cry from one of the +women in the room. Mrs. Haag, the housekeeper, had fainted away. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +INSPECTOR KEENE SEES DAYLIGHT AT LAST. + +"And pray, may I ask who was left executor in this wonderful will, +since that item seems to have been omitted from an otherwise +well-concocted story?" said Mr. Walker, as soon as the housekeeper had +been carried out of the room, and order restored. + +"Mr. Atherton and myself were named executors." + +"For which little business," he continued with unutterable irony, "you +were doubtless to receive some _small_ compensation?" + +"You are mistaken," I replied quietly; "my name is not otherwise +mentioned than as being appointed to act with Hugh Atherton. No legacy +was left to me, and I did not even receive the usual fee for drawing +up the will. I mention this to remove any false impression which my +previous statement may have given." + +"Most disinterested conduct on your part, I am sure, Mr. Kavanagh," +was the reply in the same sarcastic tones. "It was, however, probably +understood that the securing £10,000 a year to your friend would not +pass unrewarded by him." + +I was losing my temper under the man's repeated insults, and an angry +reply had risen to my lips, when Wilmot interposed. He had entirely +regained his usual self-possession, and more than his usual +confidence. Evidently, he had resolved to change his tactics, and +treat me civilly. + +"We don't wish to dispute your word, Kavanagh, but you must own there +is some excuse for our unbelief. Here are all three of us--Smith, +Walker, and myself--ready to take oath that no other will save the +document just read was or is to be found amongst my late uncle's +papers; not so much as a hint of such a thing existing. And here are +you, without a shadow of proof in your hand, stating that a will, +posterior to this one lying here, was made by you on the evening +previous to my uncle's death. The natural inference drawn is, that +that will must now exist; we know it does not exist, or we must have +found it, unless my uncle _destroyed it_ immediately {745} after it +was made, namely, before he went to bed this day week. Do I put the +case clearly and fairly, gentlemen?" he continued, turning to the +assembled company. + +The same old gentleman who had spoken before now again advanced. "I +have known Gilbert Thorneley," he said, "more than thirty years; but +that he was ever married, or had a child living, is as great news to +me as to any here present who had known him but as a recent +acquaintance. Still, if what Mr. Kavanagh says be true--and no offence +to him--that son of whom he speaks must be living now, and must be +found. You, Mr. Wilmot, have asked, as proof of this strange statement +being true, where is the will? I now ask likewise, as proof of its +genuineness, where is the _heir_? Where is the son of my old friend? +Where is Francis Gilbert Thorneley?" + +I was fearfully staggered by the question. Never before had it +occurred to me that there would be a difficulty in finding the poor +idiot when the time came for him to enter upon his inheritance. No +doubt, no passing misgiving, had crossed my mind but that, along with +the will I had drawn up, papers would be left and found, giving +all-sufficient information of his whereabouts. For the first time the +thought flashed across me that perhaps, after all, I had not acted +wisely in maintaining the silence which had been exacted from me by +solemn promise. And that solemn promise! What had been old Thorneley's +motive in exacting it? Why should he wish such inevitable risks to be +run, as he, a shrewd man of the world, would know must be run, of that +final will being suppressed by the parties interested in the other one +lodged at his lawyers'? Of what, of whom, had he been afraid? Was the +secret and mystery of the will in any way connected with the secret +and mystery of the murder? As these questions crowded themselves upon +me during the brief moment which succeeded the last speaker's queries, +I looked round unconsciously on the eager, curious faces turned upon +us, the actors in this scene; and suddenly my eye lighted upon a +little man dressed in a dapper black suit, with a profusion of curly +brown hair, and long beard, standing behind a group near the door. His +eyes were fixed on mine--sharp, intelligent, piercing, black +eyes--with an expression in them which plainly bespoke a desire of +attracting my attention; eyes that were familiar to me, whilst the +rest of the man's face and appearance was that of a stranger. Then one +hand was lifted to his lips, and I saw him give a voracious bite at +his nails. In a moment light broke upon darkness, and I knew him in +spite of flowing wig and beard, in spite of funeral black and +well-fitting clothes, to be Inspector Keene. I suppose he saw a gleam +of intelligence pass over my countenance, for he began a series of +evolutions on his closely-cropped fingers, and I, luckily, could spell +the words: "Close this; see Merrivale." I seized the idea, and turning +to Wilmot and his lawyers, I said, "This matter is too serious to be +dealt with otherwise than in legal form and place. Mr. Merrivale or +myself will communicate with Messrs. Smith and Walker. There is +nothing further to be said at present;" and I left the room, +exchanging another glance with the inspector, who I knew would quickly +follow me. + +Nor was I mistaken. I drove to Merrivale's, and whilst in full tide of +relating what had transpired in Wimpole street, the little man +arrived, still in mourning trim, but minus his wig and beard; and I am +bound to confess that, despite the seriousness of the moment, I was +almost overpowered by the ludicrous change which the doffing of those +appendages had wrought in him--he looked so like a broom that had had +its bristles cut short off. + +"You are a clever fellow, Keene," said Merrivale; "how upon earth did +you contrive to pass muster amongst those city swells?" + +{746} + +The inspector bowed to the compliment, but seemed no way abashed. "I +showed the inside of your purse, Mr. Merrivale, There was no +difficulty in sight of _that_. Please go on, Mr. Kavanagh, and I'll +wait." + +I concluded in as few words as possible, anxiously desiring to hear +what Keene had to say; and immediately that I had finished, Merrivale +turned toward him: + +"What do you think of it all, in heaven's name?" + +Mr. Inspector scraped his chin, and waited some moments before +replying, his bright keen eyes glancing alternately from one to +another of us. "If I were to tell you, sirs, all I _think_, you'd be +tired of hearing me, for I've been thinking as hard as my brains could +go for the last week past. If you'd have made a friend, Mr. Kavanagh, +of Mr. Merrivale or your humble servant in the matter you just now +revealed, it might have helped me not a trifle--not a trifle. However, +I believe you did it for the best; and after all I think we'll be even +with them yet. But it is as confoundedly black a business as it ever +fell to my lot to deal with; and I've had businesses, gentlemen, as +black as--well, as old Harry himself. You see there's three points to +follow up; and if we can tackle _one_ securely, why, I consider we +shall tackle all, for I believe they hang together. First," checking +it off on his thumb, "there's the murder; and the point there is to +find _who_ really bought that grain of strychnine which the chemist +has booked. It rests between master and man to reveal; and I incline +to the latter, and have my eye on him. Never tell me," said the +detective, warming with his subject, "that neither of them don't know; +I tell you one of them _does_ know, and my name's not Keene if I don't +have it out of them yet. That's one point, an't it, Mr. Merrivale?" +Merrivale assented. "Then the second," checking number two off on his +stumpy fore-finger, "includes four parties, and their connection with +each other; the man De Vos or Sullivan, the man O'Brian, Mr. Lister +Wilmot, and the housekeeper." + +"The housekeeper, Mrs. Haag!" I exclaimed. + +"Yes, sir; Mrs. _Haag_, if that's her name." + +"You think it is not?" + +"I _know_ it isn't." + +"You know it?" + +"I do. When Jones showed me his notes, and repeated to me what you and +he had heard in Blue-Anchor Lane last Thursday night, I _smelt_ a rat, +Mr. Kavanagh, and I followed my nose, sir. When I said I was on the +scent, I meant it. From that hour I wrote down in my note-book, 'Mrs. +Haag, _alias_ Bradley--Bradley, _alias_ O'Brian; her husband, escaped +convict from New South Wales.' For Jones identified that man by a +description in the hands of all of us in the force. To have taken him +there and then would simply have been madness, and insured your both +being murdered in that villainous hole. But to follow out the +connection between the housekeeper and him, him and Sullivan, Sullivan +and Mr. Wilmot, is another point, an't it, Mr. Merrivale?" + +Again Merrivale assented, his usually impassible face now stirred with +the deepest, most anxious interest. + +"Is 'Sullivan' De Vos's right name?" he asked. + +"I believe it is, sir. He's thoroughly Irish; but O'Brian isn't, +though he's taken an Irish name. Sullivan's been known to the police +also in his time, and I fancy there's a little matter in the wind +which might introduce him again to us. They've both had their warning, +though, from some quarter, and are in safe hiding somewhere or other +as yet." + +"Have you more to tell us about O'Brian?" + +"Nothing more, sir, at present. There's some dark secret and mystery +hanging over him--a terrible story, I am afraid; but I can't speak for +certain just now.--Mr. Kavanagh," suddenly glancing up at me, "did you +never see a likeness to any one in Mr. Wilmot?" + +{747} + +"No, not that I know of. We have often said he was like none of his +relatives living, that was his uncle and cousin. Have you?" + +"It's fancy, sir, no doubt. His mother died when he was very young, +didn't she? and his father?" + +"Mrs. Wilmot died soon after his birth. His father I never heard of. +He was a _mauvais sujet_, I believe." + +"Ah! The inspector drew a long breath and relapsed into one of his +silent moods, during which the process of scraping and gnawing was +resumed with avidity. + +"And your third point?" said I, to arouse him. + +"My third point, gentlemen," waking up lively, and dabbing at his +middle finger, "which, considering Mr. Atherton's position at the +present moment, seems to be the least important or pressing, is, +nevertheless, the one I am for pursuing immediately,--to find this +heir of whom mention has been made, Mr. Thorneley's idiot son." + +"Surely there is no hurry about that!" we both exclaimed. + +"It would appear not, gentlemen, perhaps to you, but there does to me. +Supposing," said the detective, leaning forward, and speaking very +much more earnestly than he had hitherto done--"supposing that the +will you made, Mr. Kavanagh, was stolen, then secreted or destroyed on +the night of Mr. Thorneley's death, that being what I might call the +_dead_ evidence of the truth of what you stated publicly to-day, and +supposing the parties who suppressed that will knew of the whereabouts +of the heir, they would, I conclude, be equally anxious to suppress +the _living_ evidence also--_to get him out of the way_. Do you follow +me, gentlemen?" + +"Yes, yes," we both exclaimed, for we felt he had a purpose in +speaking; "you are right." + +"Then, sirs, we must prosecute a search for this poor idiot fellow. I +see my way at present very dimly and darkly; but something tells me +that on our road to find Mr. Francis Gilbert Thorneley we shall find +also other links in the broken chain we are trying to piece together." + +"How do you propose setting to work, Keene?" asked Merrivale. + +"Mr. Atherton, being situated as he is, cannot act; it is therefore +for Mr. Kavanagh to take it upon himself, being named executor. I have +ascertained that Mr. Thorneley never went near his place in +Lincolnshire. Why? Because his son lived there. Do you follow me, Mr. +Kavanagh?" + +"I do. You think I must visit the Grange immediately?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Light then at last seemed to be gleaming on our darkness; not only a +glimmer, but a full bright ray. There was consistency and connection +in all that the inspector had put before us, though only as yet, to a +great degree, in supposition. Merrivale, agreeing with me that he +would send us on no wild-goose chase, it was settled I should go down +by the five-o'clock express train. + +In less than an hour I was standing at King's Cross Terminus, and five +minutes past five I was whirling away from London at the rate of +thirty miles an hour. At Peterborough we stopped for half-an-hour to +change carriages, and I went into the waiting-room to get some +refreshment. It was very full, for numbers of passengers were +travelling by that train to be present at some local races, and for +some minutes I could not approach the counter. At last I contrived to +edge in next to a rather tall man, very much enveloped in wraps, +wearing a travelling-cap and blue spectacles. I asked for a cup of +coffee and a sandwich. Every one knows the degree of heat to which +railway coffee is brought; and waiting awhile for the sake of my +throat before drinking it, I suddenly bethought myself of setting my +watch by the clock in the room. I put up my glass to look for it; it +{748} was at the opposite end, and I turned my back upon my tall +neighbor whilst altering the watch. When I turned round he was gone. I +finished my coffee and paid for it. Bah! how mawkish a taste it had +left in my mouth; what stuff they sell in England for real Mocha! So I +thought as I stepped out on the platform and walked up and down, +awaiting the train and reading in a sort of dreamy, unconscious manner +the advertisements and placards covering the walls. Taylor Brothers, +Parkins and Gotto, Heal and Son, Mudie's Library, and all the rest, so +well known Ha! what is this? "MURDER: £100 Reward," for information +leading to the detection of the murderer of Mr. Gilbert Thorneley; and +beneath, another, "Reward of £50 offered for the apprehension of +Robert Bradley," _alias_ O'Brian, escaped convict, with a full +description of his personal appearance appended. "Inspector Keene's +work," thought I to myself. One solitary female figure stood before +me, reading the placard; a neat trim figure, clad in deep mourning +garments, motionless, mute, and absorbed as it were in the interest of +what she was perusing. What was it that made me start and shiver as my +eye fell upon that statue-like form? what was it that, amidst an +overpowering and unaccountable drowsiness creeping over me, seemed to +sting me into life and vigilance? The answer was plain before me: +staring at me with wildly-gleaming eyes, with a face startled out of +its habitual calmness and self-possession, with fear and rage and a +hundred passions at work in her countenance, was old Thorneley's +housekeeper. "Mrs. Haag!" I exclaimed; and almost as I spoke, a change +sudden and rapid as thought took place in her, and she regained the +cold passionless expression I had noticed that same afternoon. + +"The same, Mr. Kavanagh;" and, inclining her head, she was passing on. + +"Stay!" I said, catching her by the arm. "What are you doing here? +Where are you going?" + +"By what right do you ask me, sir?" was the reply in very calm and +perfectly respectful tones. + +"By what right!" I cried with headlong impetuosity. "By the best right +that any man could have--the right of asking, or saying, or doing +anything that may help me to detect the guilty and clear the innocent. +Woman, there is some deadly mystery hanging around yon, some guilty +secret in which you have played your part, and which, by the heavens +above us, I will unearth and bring to light! I will, I will!" + +What was the matter with me? My brain was dizzy; the lights, the +station, the faces around me, the woman I was addressing, seemed to be +going round and round, and I became conscious that my speech was +getting incoherent. + +"You have been drinking, Mr. Kavanagh," I heard a hard voice saying to +me, with a slight foreign accent. Then a bell rang, and I was hurried +forward by the crowd who were flocking on the platform; hurried on +toward a train that had come into the station whilst I had been +engaged with the housekeeper. I remember entering a carriage and +sinking down on a cushioned seat; then I lost all consciousness, until +I heard a voice shouting in my ear, "Your ticket, sir, please." + +I started up. + +"Where am I?" + +"Lincoln; ticket--quick, sir." + +I handed out my ticket. + +"This is for Stixwould, four stations back on the line. Two extra +shillings to pay." + +"Good heavens! I must have been asleep. How am I to get back?" + +"Don't know, sir; no train tonight." + +The money is paid, the door banged to, and we are shot into Lincoln +station at nine o'clock. There was no help for it now but to make my +way to the nearest hotel, and see what {749} means were to be had of +returning to Stixwould--the nearest station to the Grange, and that +was ten miles from it--or else pass the night here and take the +earliest train in the morning. I bade a porter take my bag, and show +me to some hotel; and I followed him, shivering in every limb, my head +aching as I had never felt it ache before--sick, giddy, and scarcely +able to draw one foot after another. Then I knew what had happened to +me; it flashed across me all in a moment. That man, disguised and in +spectacles, standing next to me at the refreshment-counter at +Peterborough, was De Vos, and he had dragged my coffee. I felt not a +doubt of it. + +In ten minutes we stopped at the Queen's Hotel, and after engaging a +room, I despatched a porter for the nearest doctor. To him I confided +the object of my journey, what I believed had occurred to me, and the +necessity there was for my taking such prompt remedies as should +enable me to recover my full strength, energies, and wits for the +morrow. Following his advice, after swallowing his medicine, I +relinquished all notion of proceeding that night on my journey, and +went to bed. The next morning I awoke quite fresh and well; but what +precious hours had been lost! hours sufficient to ruin all hope of my +journey bearing any fruits, of finding even a shadowy clue to the +tangled web that seemed closing in around us. And Hugh Atherton lay in +prison and Ada, my poor sorrowful darling, was breaking her heart +beneath the load of misery which had come upon her. By eight o'clock I +had started for Stixwould, and in half an hour alighted at that small +station. I was the only passenger for that place, and I had to wait +whilst the train moved off for the solitary porter to take my ticket. +Just as the bell had rung, a man passed out from some door and went up +to one of the carriages. "Could you oblige me with a fusee, sir?" I +heard him say. + +Some one leaned forward and handed out what was asked for; it was the +tall man in spectacles who had stood next to me at Peterborough +station. The train moved off just as I rushed forward, rushed almost +into the arms of the other man who had asked for the fusee. Wonders +would never cease! It was Inspector Keene. + +"Thank God, it is you!" + +"Yes, sir--myself. In a moment--I must telegraph up to town;" and he +ran into the office. + +"Now, sir," he said when he came out, "what has happened to bring you +here this morning from Lincoln?" + +I told him, and expressed my astonishment at seeing him. + +"We heard last night that Mrs. _Haag_ had left London and taken her +ticket for this place. I took the night mail to look after the lady +and warn you, sir. Now we had best post off directly for the Grange. +I've already ordered a fly and a pair of horses. We'll bribe the man, +and be there in something less than an hour and a half. + +"That man you spoke to in the train was De Vos," I said when we had +started. + +"I know it, sir. He was sent to watch you, I suspect; and treat you to +that little dose in your coffee." + +"And the housekeeper?" + +"Oh! she, I imagine, is safe ahead there at the Grange. At any rate, +she has not returned up the line; every station has been watched, and +they would have telegraphed to me." + +O the dreariness of that drive! Rain poured down from the leaden, +lowering sky and concentrated into a thick midst over the dismal +wolds. Patter, patter, slush, slush, as we drove along the wet miry +roads, the horses urged on to the utmost of their wretched, +broken-down speed; and the damp chill air penetrating the old rotten +vehicle and entering the very marrow of one's bones. So we arrived at +last before a low stone lodge that guarded some ponderous iron gates. +A gaunt ill-favored man came out at the sound of the wheels, and +stared at us in no friendly manner. + +{750} + +"Whar are ye from?" ho called out. + +"From Mr. Wilmot," answered the inspector. + +"Dunna b'lieve ye. Orders is for ne'run to go up to the house." + +Keene opened the door of the fly and sprang out. + +"Look here, my man," he said, producing his staff; "I'm a +police-officer from London, and I've come down here about the murder +of your master. Open the gate in the name of the law!" + +The man stared, pulled the keys out of his pocket, unlocked the gates +and threw them open. The inspector jumped up beside the driver and +bade him go on. + +A short avenue, lined on either side with magnificent trees, brought +us to the gate of extensive but ill-kept pleasure-grounds, and so to +the stone portico of the Grange. A peal of the bell brought an old +woman to the door, who peered out suspiciously, and demanded what we +wanted. + +"I am a detective-officer from London, and have a warrant for +searching this house;" and Keene putting the old hag aside, we passed +into the hall. + +"Ye mun show me yer warrant or I'll have ye put out agin in +double-quick time," she said, scowling at the inspector. For reply the +staff of office was again out of his pocket in a twinkling, and +flourished before her eyes. + +"You take yourself off and show us over the house instantly, or it +will be the worse for you." + +The woman cowered, and muttering to herself, led the way across the +spacious hall, and threw open a door on the left. The house apparently +was a low rambling building of ancient date, with panelled walls and +high casement-windows. We traversed several rooms, bare in furniture +and that struck one with a sense of utter cheerlessness and want of +comfort. This, then, was the desolate isolated house which Gilbert +Thorneley had owned and yet shunned so carefully during life; this was +the place where his idiot boy had probably dragged on the greater +number of his miserable years. But I need not dwell upon our search +through the house. + +High and low Inspector Keene ranged; looking into cupboards and dark +closets, sounding the panelled walls and poking at imaginary +trapdoors. With the exception of the old crone, who accompanied us, +and a great tabby cat lying before the kitchen-fire, no trace of +living soul was visible. + +"Where's young Mr. Thorneley?" said the inspector to her when our +visitation was made. + +"Never heard on him." + +"Who lives here?" + +"Only myself." + +"Where's the lady who came here yesterday evening?" + +A curious gleam shot from the old woman's eyes. + +"Dunno; no lady here." + +"I shall take you into custody, if you won't tell." + +"Then you mun do it--I'se nothing to say." + +Keene turned to me. + +"Our visit has been useless, sir. I used the threat, but I can't take +the woman on no charge; there is nothing left but to--" + +Hark! what sound was that which rang out upon our ears, which made our +hair stand on end, and our hearts stand still! Shriek upon shriek of +the most horrible, wild, unearthly laughter pealing from somewhere +overhead. The old woman made a dash forward to the staircase, and +called some name that was drowned in the echoes of that terrible +mirth. But in a second we had bounded past her and up the flight of +stairs, and there, at the far end of the corridor, gesticulating and +jabbering at us as we approached him with all the fearful, revolting +madness of idiocy, was the man in whose features was stamped the +perfect likeness of old Gilbert Thorneley. + +{751} + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE TRIAL. + +Inspector Keene's third point had been followed up and worked out: +Francis Gilbert Thorneley, the lost heir was found; and the living +evidence in favor of the will I had made was in our actual possession. +That it should be so seemed a merciful interposition of Providence; +for we had little doubt but that it had been intended I should, under +the influence of the stupefying drug administered by Do Vos, be +delayed on my journey, and so give time for him or the housekeeper, or +both, to visit the Grange and effect whatever purpose they had in +view. What had defeated them, or caused their failure, remained as yet +a mystery. Equally mysterious was the way in which both the +conspirators had managed to elude the vigilance of the police; and +bitter seemed the Inspector's disappointment when, on arriving in +London, he found no intelligence awaiting him of either man or woman. +We brought up the poor idiot with us; and I took him to my own +chambers, engaging a proper attendant to take charge of him, +recommended by the physician whom I called in to examine him. He +seemed to be perfectly harmless, and tractable as a child, but totally +bereft of sense or reason, amusing himself with toys, picture-books, +and other infantile diversions, by the hour. We tried to get some +coherent account of himself from him, but to no purpose; he knew his +name and the name of the old man and woman who had been his sole +guardians and companions, apparently for years. But beyond that, no +information could be elicited; and to all questions he would reply +with some sort of childish babble or jabber. This was the heir to old +Thorneley's immense wealth. + +There now remained the two other points marked by the Inspector to +follow up. Oh! how time was fast rushing on!--time that was so +precious for life or death--and so little done as yet toward clearing +away all that mountain of condemning evidence which would infallibly, +in the eyes of any English jury, bring sentence of death upon the +suspected murderer. The question forever rang in my ears, "_Who_ +bought that grain of strychnine on the 23d of October?" Upon the +discovery and identification of that person both Merrivale and myself, +as also the counsel whom he had engaged for the defence, felt +everything would hang. But up to the present moment, except in our own +minds, not the shadow of a clue could be found. The 16th November, the +day appointed for the trial of Hugh Atherton, approached with terrible +nearness; and our confidence in all but God's mercy and justice was +ebbing fast away. After finding and bringing the lost heir to London, +I wrote to Atherton by Merrivale, detailing all that old Thorneley had +confided to me, the contents of the will, and my journey into +Lincolnshire. I wrote, entreating him to see me; to let no cloud come +between us, who had been such close friends from boyhood, at such a +moment; to turn a deaf ear to all influence that might suggest that I +was acting otherwise than I had always done toward him. I wrote all +the bitter sorrow of my heart at having been forced involuntarily to +give evidence that might be turned against him; all the self-reproach +I felt for not having yielded to his wish of returning home with me +that terrible evening. + +He answered me in cold distant words, that _under the circumstances_ +it was best we should not meet; that Merrivale would act for him in +all as he judged best; that he did not wish to be disturbed again +before his trial. I showed the letter to Merrivale, and he told me he +could not make it out, for that Hugh was quite unreserved with him on +all points save this, and {752} to every suggestion he had made to him +of seeing me, he had invariably given the same reply, and declined to +enter upon the subject. Then I had recourse to Ada Leslie; but she +only obtained the same result. + +"I told him, guardian," she said, "how true you were to him, how +earnest and indefatigable in doing all you could for him, how sure I +was that you loved him better than any thing on earth. But all the +answer I got was, 'No, Ada; not better than anything. Don't let us say +anything more on the subject.' What can he mean? for I am sure he +meant something particular." + +Was it hard to look in her face, meet her clear trusting eyes, and +answer back, "_You_ were right, Ada; he is laboring under some +delusion?" Were they false words I spoke, my own heart giving them the +lie? Thank God, no. I was true to her, true to him. + +The time between my journey into Lincolnshire and the day of the trial +seems, on looking back, to be one dead blank, inasmuch as, do what we +would, we were no nearer the solution of the mystery after those three +weeks of research and watchfulness than we were on the morning +succeeding the murder. There were the prolonged conferences of lawyers +with counsel, of counsel with prisoner, of both with the detectives; +and day by day I saw Merrivale's face growing more careworn, stern, +and anxious; I saw both Inspector Keene's and Jones's baffled looks; +and--worse, far worse than all--I saw Ada Leslie wasting away before +me, withering beneath the blighting sorrow that had fallen upon her +young life. Oh! the terrible anguish written upon that wan, worn face +that would be lifted up to mine each time I saw her, the unspeakably +painful eagerness of her tones as she would ask, "is there any news?" +and the touching calmness of her despairing look succeeding the answer +which blasted the hopes that kept cruelly rising in her breast only to +be crushed! + +So the morning of the 16th of November dawned upon us. For the defence +Merrivale had engaged two of the most acute lawyers and most eloquent +pleaders then practising at the English bar, Sergeant Donaldson and +Mr. Forster, Q.C. They were both personal friends of Hugh Atherton, +both equally convinced of his innocence. On the part of the Crown the +Solicitor-General, Sergeant Butler, and a Mr. Frost were retained--all +eminent men. The judges sitting were the Lord Chief-Justice and Baron +Watson. Although we arrived very early, the Court was crowded to +suffocation; and it was only by help of the police-officers and +authorities that we could find entrance, although engaged in the +principal case coming on. Special reporters of the press, for London +and the country, were eagerly clamoring for seats in the reporters' +bench; and even foreign journals had sent over their "own +correspondents," such a general stir and sensation had the murder of +Gilbert Thorneley made far and near. + +Two or three trivial cases of embezzlement and stealing came first +before the Common Sergeant, whilst preparations for the one great +trial were made, the witnesses collected, and the counsel on either +side holding their final conferences. At a quarter to eleven the +Chief-Justice, followed by his brother judge, entered amidst profound +silence and took his seat. They were both men who had grown old and +gray in the administration of justice, who had for years sat in +judgment upon the guilty and the not guilty--men whose ears were +familiar with the details of almost every misery and crime known to +human nature--men who had had their own griefs and trials; and on the +venerable face of the superior judge many a deep furrow had been left +to tell its tale, whether engraven by private sorrow, or sympathy for +the mass of woe and suffering which passed so constantly before his +eyes. I had the honor of being personally acquainted {753} with his +lordship. How well I remembered an evening, not so long ago, spent at +his house with Hugh Atherton; when he, that eminent judge, that +distinguished lawyer, had come up to me and talked of Hugh, of his +talents, his eloquence, his growing reputation! I remembered the sad, +wistful expression of his eye as it dwelt upon my friend, and the tone +of his voice, as he said with a deep sigh, "If my boy had lived, I +could have wished him to have been such a one as _he_." He remembered +it also, if I might judge from the sorrowful gravity of his +countenance. I was standing beside Merrivale beneath the prisoner's +dock, facing the judge's chair; and in a few moments there was a +rustle and stir throughout the court, and I saw the Chief-Justice pass +his hand before his eyes for a brief second. Then was heard the loud +harsh voice of the clerk of the court addressing some one before him: + + "Philip Hugh Atherton, you stand there charged with the wilful + murder of your uncle, Mr. Gilbert Thorneley. How say you, prisoner + at the bar--are you guilty or not guilty?" + +A voice, low, deep-toned, and thrilling in its distinctness, replied: +"Not guilty, my lord; not guilty, so help me, O my God!" and turning +round, once again my eyes met those of Hugh Atherton. + +A great change had been wrought in him during the last three weeks, he +had grown so thin and worn; and amongst the waving masses of his dark +hair I could trace many and many a silver thread. Twenty years could +not have aged him more than these twenty days passed in that felon's +cell, beneath the imputation of that savage crime. Who could look at +him and think him guilty; who could gaze upon his open, manly face, so +noble in its expression of mingled firmness and gentleness, in its +guileless innocence and conscious rectitude of purpose, and say, "That +man has committed murder"? My heart went out to him, as I looked on +his familiar face once more, with all the love and honor with which I +had ever cherished his friendship. + +A special jury were then sworn in. All passed unchallenged; and the +Solicitor-General rose to open the case for the prosecution, and began +by requesting that all the witnesses might be ordered to leave the +court. It is needless to say that I had been subpoenaed by the crown +to repeat the wretched evidence already given at the inquest; needless +also to say that, not being personally present during the whole trial, +I have drawn from the same sources as before for an account of it. + +We had been given to understand that no other witnesses than those +examined before the coroner would be called against the prisoner; why +should they want more? They had enough evidence to bring down +condemnation twice over. On the part of the defence I have before said +up to that morning nothing fresh had been discovered that could in any +way be used as a direct refutation of what had already been adduced, +and would be brought forward again on this day. + +After the examination of the medical men I was called into the +witness-box, and examined by the Solicitor-General. To my former +evidence I now added an account of what had passed between myself and +the murdered man on the evening of the 23d, the contents of the will, +my journey to the Grange, and the discovery of Thorneley's idiot son. +I likewise gave an account of my visit with Jones to Blue-Anchor lane. +I noticed that this was ill-received by the Crown counsel; but the +judges overruled the Solicitor-General's attempt to squash my +statements, and insisted upon my having a full hearing. At the end +Sergeant Donaldson rose to cross-question me. + +"Did Mr. Thorneley mention in whose favor his previous will had been +made?" + +"He did not. Simply that he intended the will drawn up then to cancel +all others." + +{754} + +"Can you remember the words in which he alluded to his wife and son?" + +"Perfectly; I wrote them in the memorandum addressed to Mr. Atherton, +and which Mr. Merrivale has communicated to you." + +The Chief-Justice: "Read the extract, brother Donaldson." + +Sergeant Donaldson read as follows: "'Five-and-twenty years ago I +married one much younger than myself, an orphan living with an aunt, +her only relative, and who died shortly after our marriage. My ruling +passion was speculation; and I married her, not for love, but for her +fortune, which was large; I coveted it for the indulgence of my +passion. She was not happy with me, and I took no pains to make her +happier. Few knew of our marriage. I kept her at the Grange till she +died. Only _I_ and _one other person_ were with her at her death. She +gave birth to one child, a boy. Ho grew up an idiot, and I hated him. +But I wish to make reparation to my dead wife in the person of her +son--not out of love to her memory, but to _defeat the plans of +others, and in expiation of me wrong done to her_. I have never loved +any one in my life but my twin-sister, Hugh Atherton's mother: and him +for her sake and his own.' And then, my lord, follow the instructions +for the will given to Mr. Kavanagh." To the witness: "Did Mr. +Thorneley give you any clue to the '_other person_' who was with him +at his wife's death?" + +"None at all." + +"When you met the prisoner in Vere street, did he say he was going to +visit his uncle then?" + +"No; on the contrary, he seemed anxious to come home with me. I should +imagine it was an after-thought." + +"Mr. Wilmot has stated that you _volunteered_ to give evidence against +the prisoner: is it so?" + +"No; it is most false. I was surprised by detective Jones into an +admission; and when I found that it would be used against Mr. +Atherton, I did all in my power to get off attending the inquest." + +Reëxamined by the Solicitor-General: "It was against your consent that +the prisoner was engaged to your ward Miss Leslie, was it not?" + +"Against my consent! Assuredly not. She bad my consent from the +beginning." + +"You may go, Mr. Kavanagh." + +The witness who succeeded me was the housekeeper. It was observed that +she did not maintain the same calmness as at the inquest; but her +evidence was perfectly consistent, given perhaps with more eagerness, +but differing and varying in no essential point from her previous +depositions. + +Questioned as to whether she had been aware of Mr. Thorneley's +marriage, replied she had not, having always been in charge of his +house in town, first in the city and afterward in Wimpole street. He +had often been from home for many weeks together, but she never knew +where he went. + +Cross-examined.--Could swear she had poured no ale out in the tumbler +before taking it into the study--Barker had been with her all the +time--nor yet in the room. + +Sergeant Donaldson: "Now, Mrs. Haag, attend to me. How long have you +been a widow?" + +"Fifteen years." + +"What was your husband?" + +"A commercial traveller. He was not successful, and I went into +service soon after I married." + +"Had you any children?" + +"One son. He died." + +"When?" + +"Years ago." + +"How many years ago?" + +"Twenty years ago." + +"Is Haag your married name?" + +"Yes." + +"Did you bear the name of Bradley?" + +"I never bore such a name. I am a Belgian; so was my husband." + +{755} + +A paper was here passed in to Sergeant Donaldson, and handed by him to +the judges. + +The Chief-Justice: "This is a certificate of marriage celebrated at +Plymouth between Maria Haag, spinster, and Robert Bradley, bachelor, +dated June, 1829, and witnessed in proper legal form." + +Witness: "I know nothing of it. My name is Haag by marriage. I am very +faint; let me go away." + +A chair and glass of water were brought to the witness. In a few +moments she had recovered and the cross-examination was renewed. + +"How came it that you were met in the middle of Vere street, when, by +your own showing, you must then have turned out of the street before +Mr. Kavanagh could have overtaken you?" + +"Mr. Kavanagh did not meet me. I have so said before. I went straight +home after passing him and Mr. Atherton at the chemist's shop. He is +mistaken." + +"What took you to Peterborough on the 30th of last month?" + +"I went to visit a friend at Spalding." + +"How was it, then, that you returned to London by the twelve o'clock +train the following day--I mean arrived in London at that hour?" + +Witness hesitated for some time, and at last looked up defiantly. + +"What right have you to ask me such a question?" + +Baron Watson: "You are bound to answer, Mrs. Haag." + +Witness confusedly: "I did not find my friend at home." + +Sergeant Donaldson: "Do you mean to say you took that journey with the +chance of finding your friend away?" + +"I did." + +To the Chief-Justice: "My lord, I am informed by Inspector Keene, of +the detective service, that Mrs. Haag never visited Spalding at all; +that she took a ticket for Stixwould, at which station she got out, +and from which station she returned the following day." + +Baron Watson: "I don't see what you are trying to prove, brother +Donaldson." + +"I am trying to prove, my lord, that Mrs. Haag is not a witness upon +whose veracity we can rely." + +The Chief-Justice: "You must be well aware, Mrs. Haag, that the +mystery of this second will, and discovery of your late master's son, +bear direct influence upon the charge of which the prisoner is +accused. I think it highly necessary that you should be able to give a +clear account of that journey of yours on the 30th of last month. For +your own sake, do you understand?" + +Witness violently: "Of what do you suspect me? I have related the +truth." + +Sergeant Donaldson: "Excuse me, my lord, I shall call two witnesses +presently who will throw some light upon this person's movements. I +have no further questions to put to her now." + +Barker the footman and the other servants were next examined, and +deposed as before, with no additions nor variations. + +Mr. Forster in cross-examination drew from the cook a yet more +confident declaration that she had heard footsteps on the front-stairs +leading from the third to the second floor on the night of the murder. +Also that the housekeeper had "gone on awful at her for saying so; but +she had stuck to her word and told Mrs. 'Aag as she wasn't a-going to +be badgered nor bullied out of her convictions for any 'ousekeeper; +and that afterwards Mrs. 'Aag had come to her quite soft and civil, +your lordships, and said, 'Here's a suverin, cook, not to mention what +you heerd; for if you says a word about them steps, why,' says she, +'you'll just go and put it into them lawyers' 'eads as some of us did +it,' says she. But a oath's a oath, my lordships; and a being close +and confined is what I could never abide or abear; and that's every +bit the truth, and here's her suverin back again, which I never +touched nor broke into." + +{756} + +Baron Watson: "On your oath, then, you declare you heard a footstep on +the front-stairs during the night of the 23d but you don't know at +what hour?" + +"As certain sure, my lord, as that you are a sittin' on your cheer." + +After eliciting a few more confirmatory details, the witness was +dismissed and Mr. Wilmot called. Nothing further was got out of him +than what he had stated before the coroner. Either he was most +thoroughly on his guard, or he really was, as he professed to be, +ignorant of his cousin Thorneley's existence up to the day of the +funeral; ignorant of the contents of his uncle's will, until it was +opened at Smith and Walker's; totally unacquainted with the man +Sullivan or De Vos; innocent of having written the note seized upon +the boy in Blue-Anchor Lane by detective Jones, all knowledge of or +complicity with which he absolutely and solemnly denied. + +Questioned as to his motive for saying that Miss Leslie had been +refused the consent of her guardian, Mr. Kavanagh, to her marriage, +replied he had been distinctly told so by Mrs. Leslie, who had +mentioned also that Mr. Kavanagh was attached to Miss Leslie himself, +and had tried to make her break off the engagement. + +Inspector Jackson and Thomas Davis, the chemist, next gave evidence. +The latter was cross-questioned by Sergeant Donaldson. Could not swear +he did not leave the shop on the evening of the 23d between the time +when he had sold the camphor and nine o'clock, his supper-hour; had +tried hard to recollect since attending at the inquest, and had spoken +to his wife and his assistant. The former thought he had; that she had +heard him go into the back-parlor whilst she was down in the kitchen; +the latter had said he had not left the shop until nine o'clock. Could +swear he had sold no strychnine himself that day. The entry was, +however, in his own handwriting. He had talked over the matter +repeatedly with James Ball, his assistant, but had gathered no light +on the subject. The latter had been in a very odd state of mind since +then. The murder seemed to have taken great effect upon him. He had +become very nervous, forgetful, and absent; and he (Davis) had been +obliged to admonish him several times of late, that if he went on so +badly he must seek another situation. + +James Ball replaced his master in the witness-box. He looked very +haggard and excited, and answered the questions put to him, in an +incoherent, unsatisfactory manner, very different from his conduct at +the inquest. Admonished by the Chief-justice that he was upon his oath +and giving evidence in a matter of life and death, had cried out +passionately that he wished he had been dead before that wretched +evening.--Ordered to explain what he meant, became confused, and said +he had felt ill ever since the inquest. + +Cross-questioned by Mr. Forester: "Does your master keep an +errand-boy?" + +"Yes." + +"Was he in the shop on the evening of the 23d?" + +"I don't remember." + +"Oh! you don't remember! Do you remember receiving a letter on the +afternoon of the 24th containing a Bank-of-England £10 note?" + +"I did not receive any letter." + +"But you received what is called an 'enclosure' of a £10 note, did you +not?" + +No answer. + +"Did you hear my question, sir? Did you or did you not receive it?--on +your oath, remember!" + +No answer. + +The Chief-Justice: "You must answer that gentleman, James Ball." + +Still no answer. + +The Chief-Justice: "Once more I repeat my learned brother's question. +Did you or did you not receive that £10 note on the 24th of October +last? If you do not answer, I shall commit you for contempt of court." + +{757} + +Witness, defiantly: "Well, if I did, what's that to any one here? I +suppose I can receive money from my own mother." + +Mr. Forster: "You know very well that it did not come from your +mother, but that it was _hush-money_ sent you by the person to whom +you sold the grain of strychnine on the evening of the 23d." The +Chief-Justice: "Is this so? Speak the truth, or it will be the worse +for you." + +Witness (in a very low voice): "It is." + +Mr. Forster: "Who was the person?" + +"I don't know--indeed I don't; but +it wasn't _he_," (pointing to the prisoner.) + +"Was it a man or a woman?" + +"A woman." + +"Was it the housekeeper?" + +"I don't know." + +The Chief-Justice: "Let Mrs. Haag be summoned into court." + +The housekeeper was brought in and confronted with the witness. She +was unveiled, and she looked Ball steadily in the face, the dangerous +dark light in her eyes. + +The Chief-Justice: "Is that the person?" + +"No; I can't identify her." (The witness spoke with more firmness and +assurance than he had done.) + +Mr. Forster, to Mrs. Haag: "Is this your handwriting?" (A letter is +passed to her.) + +"No; it is not" + +"On your oath?" + +"On my oath." + +"You can leave the court, Mrs. Haag." + +"Now, witness, relate what took place about that strychnine." + +"A lady came into the shop that evening, just before that gentleman +came in for the camphor, and asked for a grain of strychnine. I +refused to sell it. She said, 'It's for my husband; he's a doctor, and +wants to try the effect on a dog.' I said, 'Who is he?' She said, +'He's Mr. Grainger, round the corner, at the top of Vere Street.' I +knew Mr. Grainger lived there--a doctor. I thought it was all right, +and gave her one grain of strychnine. I said, 'I shall run round +presently and see if it's all right' She said, 'Very well; come now if +you like.' I made sure now more than ever that it was all right. She +paid me and left the shop. I told my master of selling it, along with +a lot of other medicines. In the morning I heard that Mr. Thorneley +had been poisoned by strychnine, and in the afternoon I received by +post a ten-pound note and that letter."--(Letter read by Mr. Forster: +"Say nothing, and identify no one. You shall receive this amount every +month.")--"I guessed then it was from the person who had bought the +strychnine, and that they had murdered old Thorneley. I am very poor, +and my family needed the money. That is all." + +Mr. Forster: "I have nothing further to ask." + +The Chief-Justice: "Remove the witness, and let him be detained in +custody for the present." + +The Solicitor-General: "This, my lord, closes the evidence for the +prosecution." + +Sergeant Donaldson then rose to address the jury for the defence. + + + + + +TO BE CONTINUED. + +------ + +{758} + + +[ORIGINAL.] + + + +PROBLEMS OF THE AGE. + + +VI. + + +THE TRINITY OF PERSONS INCLUDED IN THE ONE DIVINE ESSENCE. + +The full explication of the First Article of the Creed requires us to +anticipate two others, which are its complement and supply the two +terms expressing distinctly the relations of the Second and Third +Persons to the First Person or the Father, in the Trinity. "Credo in +Unum Deum Patrem," gives us the doctrine of the Divine Unity, and the +first term of the Trinity, viz., the person of the Father. "Et in Unum +Dominum Jesum Christum Filium Dei Unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante +omnia saecula; Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine; Deum Verum de Deo Vero; +Genitum non Factum, consubstantialem Patri, per quem omnia facta +sunt:" gives us the second term or the person of the Son. "Et in +Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et Vivificantem, qui ex Patre Filioque +procedit, quicum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificacur:" +gives us the third term or the person of the Holy Spirit. Both these +are necessary to the explanation of the term "Patrem." The proper +order is, therefore, to begin with the eternal, necessary relations of +the Three Persons to each other in the unity of the Divine Essence, +and then to proceed with the operations of each of the Three Persons +in the creation and consummation of the Universe. + +Our purpose is not to make a directly theological explanation of all +that is contained in this mystery, but only of so much of it as +relates to its credibility, and its position in regard to the sphere +of intelligible truth. With this mystery begins that which is properly +the objective matter of revelation, or the series of truths belonging +to a super-intelligible order, that is, above the reach of our natural +intelligence, proposed to our belief on the veracity of God. It is +usually considered the most abstruse, mysterious, and incomprehensible +of all the Christian dogmas, even by believers; though we may perhaps +find that the dogma of the Incarnation is really farther removed than +it from the grasp of our understanding. Be that as it may, the fact +that it relates to the very first principle and the primary truth of +all religion, and appears to confuse our apprehension of it, namely, +the Unity of God--causes us to reflect more distinctly upon its +incomprehensibility. Many persons, both nominal Christians and avowed +unbelievers, declare openly, that in their view it is an absurdity so +manifestly contrary to reason that it is absolutely unthinkable, and, +of course, utterly incredible. How then is the relation between this +mystery and the self-evident or demonstrable truths of reason adjusted +in the act of faith elicited by the believer? What answer can be made +to the rational objections of the unbeliever? If the doctrine be +really unthinkable, it is just as really incredible, and there can be +no act of faith terminated upon it as a revealed object. Of course, +then, no inquiry could be made as to its relation with our knowledge, +for that which is absurd and incapable of being intellectually +conceived and apprehended cannot have any relation to knowledge. It is +impossible for the human mind to believe at one and the same time that +a proposition is {759} directly contrary to reason, and also revealed +by God. No amount of extrinsic evidence will ever convince it. Human +reason cannot say beforehand what the truths of revelation are or +ought to be; but it can say in certain respects what they cannot be. +They cannot be contradictory to known truths and first principles of +reason and knowledge. Therefore, when they are presented in such a way +to the mind, or are by it apprehended in such a way, as to involve a +contradiction to these first truths and principles, they cannot be +received until they are differently presented or apprehended, so that +this apparent contradiction is removed. This is so constantly and +clearly asserted by the ablest Catholic writers, men above all +suspicion for soundness in the faith, that we will not waste time in +proving it to be sound Catholic doctrine. [Footnote 183] Of course +all rationalists, and most Protestants, hold it as an axiom already. +If there are some Protestants who hold the contrary, they are beyond +the reach of argument. + + [Footnote 183: See among others, Archbishop Manning on the Temporal + Mission of the Holy Ghost.] + +The Catholic believer in the Trinity apprehends the dogma in such a +way that it presents no contradiction to his intellect between itself +and the first principles of reason or the primary doctrine of the +unity of the divine nature. God, who is the Creator and the Light of +reason, as well as the author of revelation, is bound by his own +attributes of truth and justice, when he proposes a doctrine as +obligatory on faith, to propose it in such a way that the mind is able +to apprehend and accept it in a reasonable manner. This is done by the +instruction given by the Catholic Church, with which the supernatural +illumination of the Holy Spirit concurs. The Catholic believer is +therefore free from those crude misapprehensions and misconceptions +which create the difficulty in the unbelieving mind. He apprehends in +some degree, although it may be implicitly and confusedly, the real +sense and meaning of the mystery, as it is apprehensible by analogy +with truths of the natural order. What it is he apprehends, and what +are the analogies by which it can be made intelligible, will be +explained more fully hereafter. It is enough here to note the fact. +This apprehension makes the mystery to him thinkable, or capable of +being thought. That is, it causes the proposition of the mystery in +certain definite terms to convey a meaning to his mind, and not to be +a mere collocation of words without any sense to him. It makes him +apprehend what he is required to assent to, and puts before him an +object of thought upon which an intellectual act can be elicited. It +presents no contradiction to reason, and therefore there is no +obstacle to his giving the full assent of faith on the authority of +God. + +It is otherwise with one who has been brought up in Judaism, +Unitarianism, or mere Rationalism; or whose merely traditional and +imperfect apprehension of Christian dogmas has been so mixed up with +heretical perversions that his mature reason has rejected it as +absurd. There is an impediment in the way of his receiving the mystery +of the Trinity as proposed by the Catholic Church, and believing it +possible that God can have revealed it. He may conceive of the +doctrine of the Trinity as affirming that an object can be one and +three in the same identical sense, which destroys all mathematical +truth. Or he may conceive of it, as dividing the divine substance into +three parts, forming a unity of composition and not a unity of +simplicity. Or he may conceive of it as multiplying the divine +essence, or making three co-ordinate deities, who concur and +co-operate with each other by mutual agreement. These conceptions are +equally absurd with the first, although it requires more thought to +discern their absurdity. It is necessary then to remove the apparent +absurdity of the doctrine, before any evidence of its being a {760} +revealed truth is admissible. The first misconception is so extremely +crude, that it is easily removed by the simple explanation that unity +and trinity are predicated of God in distinct and not identical +senses. The second, which is hardly less crude is disposed of by +pointing out the explicit statements in which the simplicity and +indivisibility of the divine substance in all of the Three Persons is +invariably affirmed. The third is the only real difficulty, the only +one which can remain long in an educated and instructed mind. The +objection urged on theological or philosophical grounds by really +learned men against the dogma of the Trinity, is, that it implies +Tritheism. The simplest and most ordinary method of removing this +objection, is by presenting the explicit and positive affirmation of +the church that there is but one eternal principle of self-existent, +necessary being, one first cause, one infinite substance possessing +all perfections. This is sufficient to show that the church denies and +condemns Tritheism, and affirms the strict unity of God. But, the +Unitarian replies, you hold a doctrine incompatible with this +affirmation, viz., that there are three Divine Persons, really +distinct and equal. This is met by putting forward the terms in which +the church affirms that it is the one, eternal, and infinite essence +of God which is in each of the Three Persons. The Unitarian is then +obliged to demonstrate that this distinction of persons in the Godhead +is unthinkable, and that unity of nature cannot be thought in +connection with triplicity of person. This he cannot do. The relation +of personality to nature is too abstruse, especially when we are +reasoning about the infinite, which transcends all the analogies of +our finite self-consciousness, to admit of a demonstration proving +absolutely that unity of nature supposes unity of person, and _vice +versa_, as its necessary correlative. The church affirms the unity of +substance in the Godhead in the clearest manner, sweeping away all +ground for gross misconceptions of a divided or multiplied deity; but +affirms also trinity in the mode of subsistence, or the distinction of +Three Persons, in each one of whom the same divine substance subsists +completely. This affirmation is above the comprehension of reason, but +not contrary to reason. Even Unitarians, in some instances, find no +difficulty in accepting the statement of the doctrine of the trinity +made by our great theologians, when it is distinctly presented to +them; and in the beautiful Liturgical Book used in some Unitarian +congregations, the orthodox doxology, "Glory be to the Father, and to +the Son, and to the Holy Ghost," has been restored. + +The absurd misconception of what the church means by the word Trinity +being once removed, the evidence that her doctrine is revealed, or +that God affirms to us the eternal, necessary distinction of three +subsistences in his infinite being, becomes intelligible and credible. +Reason cannot affirm the intrinsic incompatibility of the proposition, +God reveals himself as subsisting in three persons, with the +proposition, there is one God; and therefore cannot reject conclusive +evidence that he does so reveal himself through the Catholic Church. +For aught reason can say, he may have so revealed himself. If +satisfactory evidence is presented that he has done so, reason is +obliged, in consistency with its principles, to examine and judge of +the evidence, and assent to the conclusion that the Trinity is a +revealed truth. This is enough for all practical purposes, and as much +as the majority of persons are capable of. But is this the _ultimatum_ +of reason? Is it not possible to go further in showing the conformity +of the revealed truth with rational truths? Several eminent +theologians have endeavored to take this further step, and to +construct a metaphysical argument for the doctrine of the Trinity. +Some of the great contemplatives of the church, who are really the +most profound and sublime of her {761} theologians and philosophers, +have also through divine illumination appeared to gain an insight into +the depths of this mystery. For instance, St. Ignatius and St. Francis +de Sales both affirm that the truth and the mutual harmony of all the +divine mysteries were made evident to their intelligence in +contemplation. In modern times, Bossuet, Lacordaire, and Dr. Brownson +have reasoned profoundly on the rational evidence of the Trinity, and +a Roman priest, the Abbate Mastrofini, has published a work entitled +"Metaphysica Sublimior," in which he proposes as his thesis, Given +divine revelation, to prove the truth of all its dogmas by reason. The +learned and excellent German priest Günther attempted the same thing, +but went too far, and fell into certain errors which were censured by +the Roman tribunals, and which he himself retracted. It is necessary +to tread cautiously and reverently, like Moses, for we are on holy +ground, and near the burning bush. We will endeavor to do so, and, +taking for our guide the decisions of the Church and the judgment of +her greatest and wisest men, to do our best to state briefly what has +been attempted in the way of eliciting an eminent act of reason on +this great mystery, without trenching on the domain of faith. + +First, then, it is certain that reason cannot discover the Trinity of +itself. It must be first proposed to it by revelation, before it can +apprehend its terms or gain anything to reason upon. Secondly, when +proposed, its intrinsic necessity or reason cannot be directly or +immediately apprehended. If it can be apprehended at all, it must be +mediately, or through analogies existing in the created universe. Are +there such analogies, that is, are there any reflections or +representations of this divine truth in the physical or intellectual +world from which reason can construct a theorem parallel in its own +order with this divine theorem? Creation is a copy of the divine idea. +It represents God as a mirror. Does it represent him, that is, so far +as the human intellect is capable of reading it, not merely as he is +one in essence, but also as he is three in persons? Assuming the +Trinity as an hypothesis, which is all we can do in arguing with an +unbeliever, can we point out analogies or representations in creation +of which the Trinity is the ultimate reason and the infinite original? +If we can, do these analogies simply accord and harmonize with the +hypothesis that God must subsist in three persons, or do they indicate +that this is the most adequate or the only conceivable hypothesis, or +that it is the necessary, self-evident truth, without which the +existence of these analogies would be unthinkable and impossible? Do +these analogies, as we are able to discover them, represent an +adequate image of the complete Catholic dogma of the Trinity, or only +an inadequate image of a portion of it? + +It is evident, in the first place, that some analogical representation +of the Trinity must be made in order to give the mind any apprehension +whatever of a real object of thought on which it can elicit an act of +faith. The terms in which the doctrine is stated, as for instance. +Father, Son, Holy Spirit, eternal generation, procession or spiration, +person, etc., are analogical terms, representing ideas which are +otherwise unspeakable, by images or symbols. It is impossible for the +mind to perceive that a proposed idea is simply not absurd, without +apprehending confusedly what the idea is, and possessing some positive +apprehension of its conformity to the logical, that is, the real +order. Every distinct act of belief in the Trinity, therefore, however +rudimental and imperfectly evolved into reflective cognition, contains +in it an apprehension of the analogy between it and creation. If we +proceed, therefore, to explicate this confused, inchoate conception, +we necessarily proceed by way of explicating the analogy spoken of, +because we must proceed by explaining the terms in which the doctrine +is stated, {762} which are analogical; and by pointing out what the +analogy is which the terms designate. What is meant by calling God +Father, Son, and Holy Spirit? Why is the relation of the Son to the +Father called filiation? Why is the relation of the Holy Spirit to +both called procession? The Niceno-Constantinopolitan and Athanasian +Creeds, all the other definitions of the church respecting the +Trinity, and all Catholic theology deduced from these definitions and +from Scripture and tradition by rational methods, are an explication +of the significance of these analogical terms. The only question which +can be raised then, is, in regard to the extent of the capacity of +human reason to discern the analogy between inward necessary relations +of the Godhead, and the outward manifestation of these relations in +the creation. The hypothesis of the Trinity assumes that this analogy +exists, and is to some extent apprehensible. We will now proceed to +indicate the process by which Catholic theologians show this analogy, +beginning with those terms of analogy which lie in the material order, +and ascending to those which lie in the order of spirit and +intelligence. + +First, then, it is argued, that the law of generation in the physical +world, by which like produces like, represents some divine and eternal +principle. Ascending from the lower manifestation of this law to man, +we find this physical relation of generation the basis of a higher +filiation in which the soul participates. Man generates the image of +himself, in his son, who is not merely his bodily offspring, but +similar and equal to himself in his rational nature. As St. Paul says, +the principal of this paternity must be in God, and must therefore be +in him essential and eternal. But this principle of eternal, essential +paternity, within the necessary being of God, is the very principle of +distinct personal relations. + +Again, the multiplicity of creation indicates that there is some +principle in the Divine Nature, corresponding in an eminent sense and +mode to this multiplicity. The relations of number are eternal truths, +and have some infinite transcendental type in God. If there were no +principle in the Divine Nature except pure, abstract unity, there +would be no original idea, from which God could proceed to create a +universe; which is necessarily multiplex and constituted in an +infinitude of distinct relations, yet all radically one, as proceeding +from one principle and tending to one end. Here is an analogy +indicating that unity and multiplicity imply and presuppose one the +other. + +These two arguments combine when we consider the law of generation and +the principle of multiplicity as constituting human society and +building up the human race. Society, love, mutual communion, +reciprocal relations, kind offices, diversity in equality, constitute +the happiness and well being of man; they are an image and a +participation of the divine beatitude. All the good of the creature, +all the perfections of derived, contingent existences, have an eminent +transcendental type in God. Love, friendship, society, represent +something in the divine nature. If there were no personal relations in +God, but a mere solitude of being existing in a unity and singularity +exclusive of all plurality and society, it would seem that, supposing +creation possible, the rational creature would copy his archetype, be +single of his kind, and find his happiness in absolute solitude. It is +otherwise, however, with the human race. The human individual is not +single and solitary. Human nature is one in respect of origin and +kind, derived from one principle which is communicated by generation +and exists in plurality of persons. Society is necessary to the +perpetuation, perfection, and happiness of the human race. This +society is constituted primarily in a three-fold relation between the +father, the mother, and {763} the child, which makes the family; and +the family repeated and multiplied makes the tribe, the nation, and +the race. Taking now the hypothesis of three persons in one nature as +constituting the Godhead, it is plain that we have a clearer idea of +that in God which is represented and imitated in human society, and +which is the archetype of the life, the happiness, the love, existing +in the communion of distinct persons in one common nature, than we can +have in the hypothesis of an absolute singularity of person in the +deity. That good which man enjoys by fellowship with his equal and his +like, is a participation in the supreme good that is in God. In that +supreme good, this participated good must exist in an eminent manner. +God must have in himself infinite, all-sufficing society, fellowship, +love. He must have it in his necessary and eternal being, for he +cannot be dependent on that which is contingent and created. Supposing +therefore that it is consistent with the unity of his nature to exist +in three distinct and equal persons, not only is the analogy of his +creation to himself more manifest, but the conception we can form of +the perfection of his being is more complete and intelligible. + +There is another analogy in the intellectual operation of the human +mind. The intellective faculty generates what may be called the +interior word, or image of the mind, the archetype of that which is +outwardly expressed in a philosophical theory, a poem, a picture, a +statue, or a work of architecture. Through this word, the great +creative mind lives and attains to the completion and happiness of +intellectual existence. It loves it as proceeding from and identical +with itself. Through it, it acts upon other minds, controls and +influences their thought and life; and thus the spirit proceeding from +the creative mind, through its generated word, is the completion of +its inward and outward operation. Thus, argue the theologians, the +Father contemplating the infinitude of his divine essence generates by +an infinite thought, the Word, or Son. Being infinite and uncreated, +his necessary act is infinite and uncreated, in all respects equal to +himself, and therefore the Word is equal to the Father; possesses the +plenitude of the divine essence, intelligence and personality. The +divine act of generation is not a purely intellectual cognition, but a +contemplation in which love is joined with knowledge. The Father +beholds the Son, and the Son looks back upon the Father, with infinite +love, which is the spiration of the divine life. This spiration or +spirit, proceeding from the Father and the Son, is the consummating, +completing term of their unity, and contains the divine being which is +in the Father and the Son in all its plenitude; constituting a third +person, equal to the first and second. The operation of a limited, +finite, created soul presents only a faint, imperfect analogy of the +Trinity, because it is itself limited, as being the operation of a +soul participating in being only to a limited extent. Individual +existences possess each one a limited portion of being. But in God, it +is not so. There is no division in his nature, because the eternal, +self-existing cause and principle of its unity is a simultaneous cause +of its absolute plenitude by which it exhausts all possible being. +This plenitude of being is in the eternal generation of the second +person, and the eternal spiration of the third person in the Godhead, +on account of the necessary perfection of the most pure act in which +the being of God consists; wherefore personality is predicable, as one +of the perfections of being, of each of the three terms of relation in +God. The word of human reason and its spirit, are not equal to itself, +or personal, because of the limited and imperfect nature of human +reason, and its operations. The Word or Son of the Eternal Father, and +the Holy Spirit, are equal to him and personal, because the Father is +God, and his act is infinite. + +{764} + +This prepares the way for a different method of presenting the +argument from analogy, based on the conception of God as _actus +purissimus_, or most pure act. This is clearly and succinctly stated +by Dr. Brownson as follows: + + "The one, or naked and empty unity, even in the Unitarian mind is + not the equivalent of God. When he says one, he still asks, one + what? The answer is, one God, which implies even with him something + more than unity. It implies unity and its real and necessary + contents as living or actual being. Unity is an abstract conception + formed by the mind operating on the intuition of the concrete, and + as abstract, has no existence out of the mind conceiving. Like all + abstractions, it is in itself dead, unreal, null. God is not an + abstraction, not a mere generalization, a creature, or a theorem of + the human mind, but one living and true God, existing from and in + himself, _ad se et se_. He is real being, being in its plenitude, + eternal, independent, self-living, and complete in himself. To live + is to act. To be eternally and infinitely living is to be eternally + and infinitely acting, is to be all act; and hence philosophers and + theologians term God, in scholastic language, most pure act, _actus + purissimus_. But act, all act demands, as its essential conditions, + principle, medium, and end. Unity, then, to be actual being, to be + eternally and purely act in itself, must have in itself the three + relations of principle, medium, and end, precisely the three + relations termed in Christian theology Father, Son, and Holy + Ghost--the Father as principle, the Son as medium, and the Holy + Ghost as end or consummation of the divine life. These three + interior relations are essential to the conception of unity as one + living and true God. Hence the radical conception of God as triune + is essential to the conception of God as one God, or real, + self-living, self-sufficing unity. There is nothing in this view of + the Trinity that asserts that one is three, or that three are one; + nor is there anything that breaks the divine unity, for the + triplicity asserted is not three Gods, or three divine beings, but a + threefold interior relation in the interior essence of the one God, by + virtue of which he is one actual, living God. The relations are in + the essence of the one God, and are so to speak the living contents + of his unity, without which he would be an empty, unreal + abstraction; one--nothing." [Footnote 184] + + [Footnote 184: Brownson's Review, July, 1863, pp. 266, 267.] + +There is still another way of stating the argument, founded on the +necessary relation between subject and object. In the rational order, +subject is that which apprehends and object that which is apprehended. +Intelligence is subject and the intelligible is object. The mere power +or capacity of intelligence, if it is conceived of in an abstract +manner as existing alone without relation to its object, must be +conceived of as not in actual exercise. Intelligence in act implies +something intelligible which terminates the act of intelligence. Even +supposing that the object of the intelligence is identical with the +subject, that is, that the rational mind contemplates itself as a +really existing substance, nevertheless there is a distinction between +the mind considered as the subject which contemplates, and the mind +considered as the object which is contemplated. The reason +contemplated must be projected before itself and regarded as an object +distinct from the contemplating reason in the act of contemplation. +The eye which sees objects external to itself, does not actually see +or bring its visual power into act until an object is presented before +it; and the individual does not become conscious that he can see or is +possessed of a visual faculty, except in the act of seeing an object. +The eye cannot see itself immediately by the mere fact that it is a +visual organ, but only sees itself as reflected in a mirror and made +objective to itself. God is the absolute intelligence and the absolute +intelligible, as has been proved in a previous chapter. He +contemplates and comprehends himself, and in this consists his active +being and life. Thus in the divine being there is the distinction of +subject and object. God considered as infinite intelligence is +subject, and considered as the infinite intelligible is his own +adequate object. The hypothesis of the Trinity presents to us God as +subject for intelligence in the person of the Father, as object, or +the intelligible, in the person of the Son. The Son is the image of +the Father, as the reflection of a man's form in the mirror is the +image of himself. The eternal generation of the Son is the {765} +eternal act of the Father contemplating his own being, and is +terminated upon the person of the Son as its object. As this act is +within the divine being, the image of the Father is not a merely +phenomenal, apparent, unsubstantial reflection of his being, but real, +living, and substantial. The Son is consubstantial with the Father. +The being of God is in the act of intelligence or contemplation, +whether we consider God as the subject or the object in this infinite +act, that is, as intelligent and contemplating, or as intelligible and +contemplated. The consummating principle of love, complacency, or +beatitude, which completes this act, vivifies it, and unites the +person of the Father with the person of the Son in one indivisible +being, is the Holy Spirit, equal to the Father and the Son, and +identical in being, because a necessary term of the most pure act in +which the divine life and being consists. All that is within the +circle of the necessary, essential being of God, as most pure, +intelligent, living act, is uncaused, self-existent, infinite, +eternal. By the hypothesis, we must conceive of God as subsisting in +the three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, in order to conceive +of him as _ens in actu_, or in the state of actual, living, concrete +being, and not as a mere abstraction or possibility existing in +thought only; as infinite intelligence, and the adequate object of his +own intelligence, self sufficing and infinitely blessed in himself. +Therefore the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Ghost is +God. It is only by this triplicity of personal relations that the +unity of God as a living, concrete unity, or the unity of one, +absolute, perfect, infinite being, containing in himself the actual +plenitude of all that is conceivable or possible, can subsist or be +vividly apprehended. Therefore there cannot be, by the hypothesis, a +separate and distinct Godhead in each of the three persons, since +triplicity of person enters into the very essential idea of Godhead. +The hypothesis of the Trinity, therefore, absolutely compels the mind +to believe in the unity of God, and shuts out all possibility that +there should be more Gods than one, because it shuts out all +possibility of imagining any mode or form of necessary being which is +not included in the three personal relations of the one God. Unity and +plurality, singularity and society, capacity of knowing, loving, and +enjoying the true, the beautiful, and the good, and the adequate +object of this capacity, or the true, beautiful, and good _in se_, the +subject and the object of intelligent and spiritual life and activity, +intelligence and the intelligible, love and the loved, blessedness and +beatitude, subsist in him in actual being, which is infinite and +exhausts in its most pure act all that is in the uncreated, necessary, +self-existent principle of being and first cause. The adequate reason +and type of all contingent and created existences is demonstrated also +to be in the three personal relations of the one divine essence, in +such a way, that the hypothesis of the Trinity, as a theorem, +satisfactorily takes up, accounts for, and explains all discoverable +truths as well in regard to the universe as in regard to God. + +This last statement indicates the answer which we think is the most +correct one to the question proposed in the beginning of this chapter, +as to the full logical force of the rational argument for the Trinity. +That is, we regard it as a hypothesis which in the first place is +completely insusceptible of rational refutation. In the second place, +contains certain truths which are established by very strong probable +arguments and analogies. In the third place, suggests a conception of +God which harmonizes with all the truth we know, or can see to be +probable, and at the same time is more perfect and sublime than any +which can be made, excluding the hypothesis. We do not claim for it +the character of a strict demonstration. To certain minds it seems to +approach {766} very near a demonstration, probably because their +intellectual power of vision is unusually acute. To others it appears +nearly or quite unintelligible. Probably but few persons comparatively +can grasp it in such a way as to attain a true intellectual insight +into the relation between the doctrine of the Trinity and philosophy. +Yet all those who have thought much on the doctrine, and who find +their great difficulty in believing it to consist in a want of +apparent connection with other truths, ought to be able to appreciate +the philosophical argument by which the connection is shown. They must +have an aptitude for apprehending arguments of this nature, otherwise +they would not think on the subject so intently. All they can justly +expect is that the impediment in their minds against believing that +the doctrine is credible, or not incredible, supposing it revealed, +should be removed. This is done by the arguments of Catholic +theologians. If the doctrine be revealed, it is credible; that is, an +intelligent person can in perfect consistency with the dictates of +reason assent to the proposition that God has revealed it, and that it +is therefore credible on his veracity. The ground of the positive and +unwavering assent of the mind is in the veracity of God, and remains +there, no matter how far the reasoning process may be carried; for +without the revelation of God, the conception of the Trinity, +supposing it once obtained, would for ever remain a mere hypothesis, +though the most probable of all which could be conceived. + +As already explained, it is only by a supernatural grace that the mind +is elevated to a state in which it clearly and habitually contemplates +the object of faith as revealed by God. By divine faith, the intellect +believes without doubting the mystery of the three persons in one +divine nature, and incorporates this belief into its life, as a +vivifying truth and not a dead, inert, abstract speculation or +theorem. When it is thus believed, and taken as a certain truth, the +intellect, if it is capable of apprehending the argument from analogy, +may be able to see that the Trinity is really that truth which is the +archetype that has been copied in creation, and is indicated in the +analogies already pointed out. It may see that one cannot think +logically unless he is first instructed in the doctrine of the Trinity +and proceeds from it as a given truth or datum of reasoning. Thus, he +may by the light of faith attain an elevated kind of science, or +eminent act of reason, which really rests on indubitable principles. +Yet it will not be properly science or knowledge of the revealed +mysteries, since one of these indubitable principles on which all the +consequences depend, is revelation itself, which really constitutes +the mind in a certitude of that which on merely rational principles +remains always inevident. Probably this is what is meant by those who +maintain that the Trinity can be rationally demonstrated. Given, that +the Trinity is a revealed truth, it explains and harmonizes in the +sphere of reason what is otherwise inexplicable. It is the same with +other revealed truths, and to prove that it is so is the principal +object of this essay. Presented in this light, the Catholic dogma of +the Trinity vindicates its claim to be a necessary part of religious +belief; an essential dogma of Christianity, revealed and made +obligatory for an intelligible reason, and essential to the formation +of a complete and adequate theology and philosophy. It is no longer +regarded as a naked, speculative, isolated proposition; to which a +merely intellectual assent is required by a precept of authority, and +which has no living relation to other truths or to the practical, +spiritual life of the soul. It is shown to be a universal and +fundamental truth, the basis of all truth and of the entire real and +logical order of the universe. + +{767} + +This can be shown much more easily, and to the majority of minds more +intelligibly, in relation to the other truths of Christianity, than to +those truths which are more recondite and metaphysical. It is +necessary to an adequate explication of the creation, of the destiny +of rational existences, of the supernatural order, of the character +and mission of Christ, of the regeneration of man through him, and of +his final end or supreme and eternal beatitude and glorification in +the future life, as will be shown hereafter. Deprived of this dogma, +Christianity is baseless, unmeaning, and worthless; and is infallibly +disintegrated and reduced to nihilism, by the necessary laws of +thought. This is true also of theism, or natural theology. And this +suggests a powerful subsidiary argument in a different line of +reasoning, proving that the doctrine of the Trinity is necessary to +the perfection and perpetuity of the doctrine of the unity of God. + +The same universal tradition which has handed down the pure, theistic +conception, and has instructed mankind in the true, adequate knowledge +of God, has handed down the Trinity, and traces of it are even found +in heathen theosophy and the more profound heathen philosophy. +Wherever the doctrine of the Trinity has been preserved, there the +clear conception of the one God and his attributes has been preserved. +And where this doctrine has been corrupted or lost, the conception of +God as one living being of infinite perfection, the first and final +cause of all things, has passed away into polytheism or pantheism or +scepticism. Wherever God is apprehended as the supreme creator and +sovereign, the supreme object of worship, obedience, and love, in +intimate personal relations to man, he is apprehended in the personal +relations which subsist in himself, that is, in the Trinity. His +interior personal relations are the foundation of all external +personal relations to his creatures. This is even true of Unitarians, +so long as they retain the Christian ethical and spiritual temper +which connects them with the Christian world of thought and life, and +do not slide into some form of infidelity. They retain some imperfect +conception of the relations of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and in +proportion as they become more positive in religion, they revive and +renew this conception. The effort to make a system of living, +practical theistic religion is feeble and futile, and what little +consistency and force it has is derived from the conception of the +fatherhood of God borrowed from Christian theology; but imperfect +without the two additional terms which constitute the complete +conception of the Trinity. All this is a powerful argument for a +Theist or a Unitarian in favor of the divine origin and authority of +the Catholic dogma. The instruction which completes the inward +affirmation of God in the idea of reason, and is the complement of the +creative act constituting the soul rational, must be from the Creator. +He alone can complete his own work. It is contrary to all rational +conceptions of the wisdom of God to suppose that he has permitted that +the same instruction which teaches mankind to know, to worship, to +love, and to aspire after himself, should hand down in inseparable +connection with the eternal truth of the unity of his essence, the +doctrine of the threefold personal relations within this unity, if +this were an error diametrically its opposite, and not a truth equally +necessary and eternal. + +------ + +{768} + + +From The Month. + +CAIRO AND THE FRANCISCAN MISSIONS ON THE NILE. + + +On the 25th November, 186--, a small but crowded steamer was seen +ploughing its way through the waves at the entrance to the port of +Alexandria. Its living freight was of a motley description: there were +the usual proportion of Indian passengers--Indian officers returning +with their wives after sick-leave; engineer officers going out to lay +down the electric telegraph--one of whom, young in years but old in +knowledge, whose distinguished merit had already raised him to the +first place in his profession, was never again destined to see his +native shores. Then there were others seeking health, and about to +exchange the damp, foggy climate of England for the warm, dry, +invigorating air of Nubia and the Upper Nile. They had had a horrible +passage, in a small and badly-appointed steamer, of which all the +port-holes had to be closed on account of the gale, leaving the +wretched inhabitants of the cabins in a state of suffocation difficult +to describe. So that it was with intense joy that the jetty was at +last reached; and in the midst of a noise and confusion impossible to +describe, the passengers were landed on the dirty quay, and were +dragged rather than led into the carriages which were to convey them +to the hotel. It was the feast of St. Catharine, the patron saint of +Alexandria, to whom the great cathedral is dedicated; and in +consequence the town was more than usually gay. Towards evening a +beautiful procession was formed, and Benediction sung in the +cathedral, which is served by the Lazarist fathers. It was the best +day to arrive at Alexandria, and the prayers of the virgin saint and +martyr were earnestly invoked by some of the party for a blessing on +their voyage and a safe and happy return. + +To one who has been for a long time in the East, Alexandria appears a +motley collection of half European, half Arabian houses, and the +refuse of the populations of each; but on first landing, everything +appears new, beautiful, and strange. The long files of camels, the +veiled women, the variety of the dresses are all striking; but the one +thing which even the most hackneyed Nile traveller cannot fail to +admire is the vegetation. Enormous groves of date-palms and bananas, +with an underwood of poncettias, their scarlet leaves looking like red +flamingos amid the dark-green leaves, and ipomeas of every shade-- +lilac, yellow, and above all turquoise-blue--climbing over every +ruined wall, and exquisite in color as in form, delight an eye +accustomed to see such things carefully tended in hothouses only, or +paid for at the rate of five shillings a spray in Covent Garden. The +sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul have two very large +establishments here--one a hospital, to which is attached a large +dispensary, attended daily by hundreds of Arabs; the other a school +and orphanage of upwards of 1000 children. There are thirty-seven +sisters, and their work is bearing its fruit, not only among the +Christian but the native population. To our English travellers the +very sight of their white "cornettes" was an assurance of love and +kindness and welcome in this strange land; and it was with a glad and +thankful heart that they found themselves once more kneeling in their +chapel, and felt that no bond is like that of charity, uniting as in +one great family every nation upon earth. + +{769} + +After a couple of days' rest, our English party started by the +railroad for Cairo. This journey was not as commonplace as it sounds; +for at each station the train was besieged by Arabs, clamoring for +passages, between 300 and 400 at a time; so that it required all the +efforts of the guards and their dragoman to prevent their carriage +being taken from them by main force. The beauty of Cairo is the theme +of every writer on Egypt and the Nile; but it would be impossible to +exaggerate its extreme picturesqueness, the exquisite carving of its +mosques and gateways; the oriental character of its narrow streets and +bazaars and courts; the beauty of the costumes, and of the fretted +lattice casements overhanging the streets; the gorgeous interior +fittings of the mosques, one of which is entirely lined with oriental +alabaster; the magnificent fountains in the outer courts of each; the +graceful minarets--all seen in the clearness and beauty of this +perfectly cloudless sky, leave a picture in one's mind which no +subsequent travel can efface. Outside the town is a perfect "city of +the dead;" all the pashas and their families are interred there, and +people "live among the tombs," as described in the Gospels; while on +Fridays the Mohammedans have services there for their dead, "that they +may be loosed from their sins;" one of those curious fragments of +Christianity which are continually cropping out of this strange +Mohammedan worship. + +One of the most interesting expeditions made by our travellers was to +Heliopolis. They passed through a sandy plain full of cotton, +date-palms, and bananas, and by a succession of miserable native huts, +(which consist of mud walls, with a roof of Indian corn, and a hole +left in the wall for light,) until they came to an obelisk, and from +thence to a garden, in the centre of which is a sycamore tree, +carefully preserved, under which the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph are +said to have rested with the infant Saviour on their flight into +Egypt. It is close to a well of pure water, and surrounded with the +most beautiful roses and Egyptian jasmine. The Mohammedans have the +greatest veneration for the "Sitt Miriam," as they call the Blessed +Virgin. They proof her immaculate conception from the Koran, and keep +a fast of fifteen days before the Assumption; therefore no surprise +was felt at seeing the care with which this grand old tree is tended +and watered by them. + +Another expedition made by the travellers was to Old Cairo, where, +near the famous Nilometer, is the Coptic convent and chapel built over +the house of the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph, where they are said to +have lived for two years with our Blessed Lord. There are some very +beautiful ancient marble columns and fine olive-wood carvings, inlaid +with ivory, in this church, and a staircase leads down to the Virgin's +House, which is now partly under water from the rise of the Nile. It +is curious how persistently all early tradition points to this spot as +the site of our Saviour's Egyptian sojourn, and it was with a feeling +of simple faith in its authenticity that one of the party knelt and +strove to realize this portion of the sacred infancy. + +There are three Catholic churches in Cairo, the cathedral being a fine +large building. The sisters of "the Good Shepherd" have also a large +convent near the cathedral, and an admirable day-school and orphanage. +Many dark-eyed young girls whom our travellers saw kneeling at +benediction there had been rescued by the kind Mother from worse than +Egyptian slavery. The condition of the "fellahs," or lower orders, in +Egypt, is appalling from its misery and degradation; and the good +sisters have very uphill work to humanize as well as christianize +these poor children. {770} Nothing can be more wretched than the +position of the women, especially throughout Egypt. If at all +good-looking, they are brought up for the harems; if not, they are +kept as "hewers of wood and drawers of water;" and the idea of their +having _souls_ seems as little believed by the Mohammedan as by the +Chinese, whose incredulity on the subject the Abbé Hue mentions so +amusingly in his missionary narrative. + +Before leaving Cairo the English ladies were invited to spend an +evening in the royal harem, and accordingly at eight o'clock found +themselves in a beautiful garden, with fountains, lit by a multitude +of variegated lamps, and conducted by black eunuchs through +trellis-covered walks to a large marble-paved hall, where about forty +Circassian slaves met them and escorted them to a saloon fitted up +with divans, at the end of which reclined the pasha's wives. One of +them was singularly beautiful, and exquisitely dressed, in pink velvet +and ermine, with priceless jewels. Another very fine figure was that +of the mother, a venerable old princess, looking exactly like a +Rembrandt just come out of its frame. Great respect was paid to her, +and when she came in, every one rose. The guests being seated, or +rather squatted, on the divan, each was supplied with long pipes, +coffee in exquisite jewelled cups, and sweetmeats, the one succeeding +the other, without intermission, the whole night. The Circassian +slaves, with folded hands and downcast eyes, stood before their +mistresses, to supply their wants. Some of them were very pretty, and +dressed with great richness and taste. Then began a concert of Turkish +instruments, which sounded unpleasing to English ears, followed by a +dance, which was graceful and pretty; but this again followed by a +play, in which half the female slaves were dressed up as men, and the +coarseness of which it is impossible to describe. The wife of the +foreign minister kindly acted as interpreter for the English ladies, +and through her means some kind of conversation was kept up. But the +ignorance of the ladies in the harem is unbelievable. They can neither +read nor write; their whole day is employed in dressing, bathing, +eating, drinking, and smoking. The soirée lasted till two in the +morning, when the royalty withdrew, and the English ladies returned +home, feeling the whole time as if they had been seeing a play acted +from a scene in the Arabian Nights, so difficult was it to realize +that such a way of existence was possible in the present century. + +The Sunday before they left, curiosity led them after mass to witness +the gorgeous ceremonial of the Coptic Church. The men sat on the +ground with bare feet, the women in galleries above the dome, behind +screens. The patriarch--who calls himself the successor of St. Mark, +and is the leader of a sect whose opinions are almost identical with +those condemned by the council of Chalcedon as the Eutychian +heresy--was gorgeously attired in a chasuble of green and gold, with a +silver crosier in one hand, (St. George and the dragon being carved on +the top,) and in the other a beautiful gold crucifix, richly jewelled, +wrapped in a gold-colored handkerchief, which every one stooped to +kiss, after the reading of the gospel and the creed, the people joined +with great fervor in the litanies; and then began the consecration of +the sacred species, which lasted a very long time. The holy eucharist +was given in a spoon to each communicant, the bread being dipped in +the wine, and the patriarch laying his hand on the forehead of each +person while he gave the blessing. At the same time, blessed bread +stamped with a cross, and with the name of Christ, was handed round to +the rest of the congregation, like the _pain bénit_ in village +churches in France. The Copts boast that there has never been the +slightest alteration in their religious rites since the fourth +century, and they are undoubtedly the only descendents of the ancient +Egyptians. + +{771} + +The following morning a portion of our travellers started by train for +Suez, across a waving, billowy-looking tract of interminable sand. +Except the "half-way house," (a miserable shed,) there is no human +habitation all the way, and nothing to be seen but long files of +camels slowly wending their way across the desert. After enjoying for +a few minutes the first sight of the Red Sea, the consul obligingly +lent them horses to ride to the Lesseps Canal, which was then +completed to within six miles of Suez. Upward of 5000 Arabs had been +pressed into the service by the pasha, and the poor creatures were +toiling under the burning sun, with no pay and wretched food, and, +when night came, sleeping under the banks. The mortality among them +was frightful; but it was in this way that the pasha paid for his +shares! Our travellers tasted the water, the first that had ever been +brought to Suez, except by camels, or, of late, by the _water-train_. +It is difficult to realize the fact of a town of this size being +entirely without fresh water until now, which accounts for the absence +of the least kind of vegetation. The next morning a steamer took our +party early to the wells of Moses, about nine miles up the gulf, where +they landed, being carried through the surf by the Chinese rowers. +Each of the wells is enclosed in a little fence, and belongs to a Suez +merchant. It is a wonderful spot, so green and so lovely in the midst +of such utter desolation. There are dates and banians, roses and +pomegranates, salads and other vegetables, all growing in the greatest +luxuriance. Long strings of camels filed across the sand on their way +to Mount Sinai, and the coloring of the mountains was exquisite. The +shore was covered with coral and shells. After spending an hour or two +there, and reading the Bible account of the spot, our travellers +returned to the ship, and went across the gulf to see the exact place +where the Israelites crossed the Red Sea when pursued by Pharaoh. The +view was beautiful, and the Hill of Barda stood out brightly with its +jagged points dear and purple against the glowing sky. The Catholics +have a small church at Suez, but are building a larger one, as their +mission is greatly on the increase. + +Our travellers returned that evening to Cairo and for the first time +slept on board their boats, or daha-biéh. The first sensation was of +discomfort at the smallness of the cabins; but soon they got used to +their floating homes, and the beauty of the weather enabled them to +live all day long on the awning-covered poop; so that they soon ceased +to feel cramped and uncomfortable. The following day, the wind being +contrary, Latifa Pasha, the head of the Admiralty, gave them a steamer +to tow them up to Gizeh, from whence they were to visit the Pyramids. +The excessive depth of each stone makes the ascent an arduous one for +women; but the view amply repays one for the exertion. On one side is +the interminable desert; on the other, the fertile "Land of Goshen." +Owing to the recent inundations, the party had continually to dismount +from their donkeys and be carried across the water on men's backs. The +next few days passed quickly, our travellers landing every morning to +walk and sketch, while the men were "tracking" along the shore, and +making acquaintance with all the people and places of interest as they +passed. At El-Atfeh was a remarkable dervish of the tribe they had +seen "dancing" in Cairo, who showed them his house, in the court of +which was the tomb of his predecessor, hung with ostrich-eggs, canoes +and other votive offerings, but hideously painted in bright green. At +Bibbeh there was a very fine Coptic church, with a picture of St. +George and the Dragon, who is the favorite saint throughout the East, +and venerated alike by Christian and Moslem. Again, on their way to +Minieh, they passed by a fine Coptic convent on the top of a {772} +cliff, and two of the monks swam to the boats to ask for alms and +offerings, which are never refused them. On the 20th December they +reached Sawada, which is a village somewhat inland, but containing a +large Coptic convent and church, served by six priests, and with a +congregation of upwards of 1000 Christians. It was also an important +burial-place, and there were multitudes of little domes looking like +children's sand-basins reversed, but each surmounted with a cross. One +of the ladies was sketching this picturesque village from a palm-grove +at the entrance of the principal gateway, when a venerable priest +approached her and made that sign which in the East is the freemasonry +of brotherhood--the sign of the Cross. The lady instantly responded, +and the old priest, joyfully clapping his hands, led her into the +church, showing her all its carious carvings and decorations, and +several very ancient MSS. There are some fine mountains at the back, +in which the gentlemen of the party discovered some wolves. The next +day brought them to Beni-Hassan. The caves, which are about three +miles from the shore, were originally used as tombs by the ancient +Egyptians, and are covered with paintings and hieroglyphics; but their +chief interest arises from their having been the great hiding-place of +the Christians during the persecutions, and also used as cells by St. +Anthony, St. Macarius, and other anchorites. A little farther on, near +Manfaloot, is the cave of St. John the Hermit, venerated to this hour +as such by the natives. On Christmas-day our travellers arrived at +Sioot, and found there a Catholic church served by the Franciscan +mission, which is under the special protection of the Emperor of +Austria, who has sent some very good pictures for the altars there. +The mass was reverently and well sang, and about 150 Catholics were +present. After mass, the Italian padre gave them coffee. He had been +educated at the "Propaganda," but had been twenty-four years in Egypt; +so that he had almost forgotten every language except Arabic. He said +that they had now obtained a union with the Copts, and a Coptic mass +followed the Latin one. The mission had been established at Sioot four +years before, by the intervention of Said Pasha, but had encountered +great opposition at first from the Moslems. Two bodies of Christian +saints with all the signs of martyrdom had been lately discovered in +the caves above the town; but the Mohammedans would not allow the +Christians to have them. The good old Franciscan had studied medicine, +and thus first made his way among the people. Now he seems to be +universally respected and beloved. + +Our party rode through the dirty bazaars of this so-called capital of +Upper Egypt, and ascended to the caves. But the "City of the Dead", a +little beyond the town, is mournfully beautiful and silent. It is +composed of streets of tombs, of white stone or marble, the only sign +of life being the jar of water left in front of each, to water the +aloes planted in picturesque vases at the gate of each tomb. A whole +poem might be written on the thoughts suggested by those silent +streets. It was this "City of the Dead" which is said to have +occasioned the valuable lesson given by St. Macarius to the young man +who had asked him "how he could best learn indifference to the world's +opinion?" He directed him to go to this place, and first upbraid and +then flatter the dead. The young man did as he was bid. When he came +back, the saint asked him "what answer they had made?" The young man +replied, "None at all." Then said St. Macarius: "Go and learn from +them neither to be moved by injuries or flatteries. If you thus die to +the world and to yourself, you will begin to live to Christ." + +{773} + +Here for the first time our travellers realized the horrors of an +Egyptian conscription. A number of villagers coming in to the Sunday's +market were at once seized, chained together, and thrown on the ground +like so much "dead stock" to be packed off on board a government +vessel, when the fall complement had been secured. The screams and +howls of their wives and daughters, throwing dirt on their heads and +tearing their hair, in token of despair, when their frantic efforts to +release them from the recruiting-sergeants were found ineffectual, +were most piteous to hear. The poor fellows rarely survive to return +to their homes; and their pay and food are so miserably small and +scanty, that to be made a soldier is looked upon as worse than death. +They maim themselves in every way to escape it--cutting off their +forefingers, putting out their eyes, and the like. Scarcely a man on +board the boats is not mutilated in this manner. In the evening, being +Christmas-day, all the boats were illuminated with Chinese lanterns +and avenues of palms; while the sailors made crosses and stars of +palm-leaves, to hang over the cabin-doors. A beautiful moon-light +night added to the effect of these decorations, as the party rowed +round the different _dahabièhs_, and the "Adeste fidelis" sounded +softly across the water. The following morning, after early mass, a +favorable wind carried them on to Ekhnim, where there is also a +Catholic Franciscan missionary and church. The priest was a +Neapolitan, and had begun his labors at Suez. His only companion was a +native Copt, who had been educated at the Propaganda. They had about +five hundred Catholics in their congregation, and a school of about +fifty children. The church was of the fifteenth century, and under the +protection of a Christian sheik, to whom our travellers were +introduced, and who courteously invited them into his house. The +courtyard of the Catholic church was crowded with native Christians +who had escaped from the conscription, and were safe under the roof of +the priest. The sheik conducted his guests to his house, the only good +one in Ekhnim, and furnished more or less in European style, as he had +been at Cairo, and attached to the household of the late viceroy. They +sat on the divan, with pipes and coffee, talking Italian with the +priest, when the sheik, as a great honor, allowed them to see his +wife, and afterward his daughter, a bride of thirteen, married to the +son of the Copt bishop. She was dressed in red, as a bride, with a red +veil and a profusion of gold ornaments and coins strung round her neck +and arms. The sheik and the whole population escorted our travellers +back to their boats with every demonstration of respect, and then the +principal chiefs with the priests were invited to come on board and +have coffee, which they accepted. The Franciscan father had been for +seven years at Castellamare, and felt the change terribly, but said +that the climate was good, and that the comfort of feeling he was +working for God strengthened his hands when he was inclined to +despond. He complained of the lamentable ignorance of the Coptic +priests, who knew nothing of the history of their interesting old +churches and convents, and only tell you "they were built before their +fathers were born!" The two large Coptic convents formerly existing in +the mountains above the town are deserted; but their church at Ekhnim +is the oldest now remaining in Egypt, and full of curious carving and +very ancient pillars. + +On New Year's day our travellers arrived at Denderah, and spent it in +the wonderful temple of Athor. The heat was very great, and it +required some courage to attempt to sketch. At five the following +morning the boats arrived at Keneh, and some of the party went on +shore to mass, that being also a Franciscan station. The church is +small, but very nicely kept; the place is, however, unhealthy, and the +good Franciscan father was very low at the mortality among his +comrades. He has lately started a school and has about twenty +children; but his life is a very desolate one, having {774} no +European to speak to, or any one to sympathize in his work. After mass +he took our travellers to see the making of the _goolehs_, or +water-bottles, which are so famous throughout Egypt, and are made +solely in this place, of the peculiar clay of the district, mixed with +the ashes of the halfeh grass. They are beautiful in form, and keep +the water deliciously cool. After a breakfast of coffee and excellent +dates at the sheik's house, the party reëmbarked, and arrived that +evening at Negaddi. Here again they found a Catholic mission. The +superior, Padre Samuele, had been laboring there for twenty-three +years. He was of the Lyons mission, and was the only one who had +survived the climate. Four of his brethren had died within the last +twelvemonth, and he had just dug a grave for the last. They had a +large and devout congregation, and a school of one hundred and fifty +children, and had been building a new church of very fine and good +proportions. But now the good father has to labor and live alone. He +said, however, that he had written to Europe for fresh workers, whom +he was anxiously expecting. Negaddi is remarkable for its turreted +pigeon-houses, painted white and red, which form an amusing contrast +to the miserable mudholes in which the inhabitants live. The following +evening found our travellers at Thebes. The town itself is a surprise +and disappointment. There are literally no shops, no bazaar, no houses +but the two or three belonging to the consuls, and built in the midst +of the temples. But the said temples are unrivalled for interest and +beauty. Karnac, either by daylight or moonlight, is a thing apart from +all others in the world for vastness of conception and magnificence of +design. "There were giants in those days." The same may be said of the +Tombs of the Kings, of the Vocal Memnon, of the Memnouium, of Medemet +Haboo, and the rest. The marvel is, what has become of the people who +created such things; who had brought civilization, arts, and +manufactures to such perfection that nothing modern can surpass them. +Is it not a lesson to our pride and our materialism, when we think of +them and of ourselves, and then see the degraded state of the modern +Egyptian, the utter extinction of the commonest art or even handicraft +among them, so that it is scarcely possible, even in Cairo, to get an +ordinary deal table made with a drawer in it? There is no Catholic +mission at Thebes, but a Coptic bishop, who received our travellers +very kindly, showed them his church, and gave them coffee on a terrace +overlooking the Nile. This evening was "twelfth-night," and the boats +were again illuminated and decorated with palms, the whole having a +beautiful effect reflected in the water. + +After spending a week at Thebes, Our travellers sailed on to Assouan, +visiting the temples of Esneh, Edfoo, and Komom-Boo on their way, and +coming into the region of crocodiles and pelicans, and of the Theban +or dom palm--less graceful than the date palm, but still beautiful, +and bearing a large, nut-like fruit in fine hanging clusters. Between +Edfoo and Thebes are shown some caves, in one of which St. Paul, the +first hermit, passed so many years of penitence and prayer. He was +discovered by St. Antony in his old age, when tempted to vain-glory, +God having revealed to him that there was a recluse more perfect than +himself, whom he was to go into the desert and seek. A beautiful +picture in the gallery at Madrid by Velasquez represents the meeting +of the two venerable saints, the dinner brought to them by the raven, +and the final interment of St. Paul by St. Antony in the cloak of St. +Athanasius, the lions assisting to dig the grave! + +Assouan is, as it were, the gate of the Cataracts, and is on the +borders of Nubia, the great desert of Syene being to the left of the +village. The Nubian caravans were tented on the shore, and tempting +the Europeans with daggers, knives, {775} ostrich-eggs, poisoned +arrows, rhinoceros hide shields, lances and monkeys. The climate was +delicious. There is no country in the world to be compared with Egypt +at this time of the year, because, in spite of the heat, there is a +lightness and exhilaration in the air which makes every one well and +hungry. To an artist the coloring is equally perfect. No one who has +not been there can imagine what the sunrises and sunsets are, +especially the after-glow at sunset. No artificial red, orange, or +purple can approach it. Then the gracefulness of the palms on the +banks, the rosy color of the mountains, the picturesque sakeels or +water-wheels, and the still prettier shadoof, with its mournful sound, +which seems as the wail of the patient slave who works it day and +night, and thereby produces the exquisite tender green vegetation on +the banks of the river, due to this artificial irrigation alone--all +are a continual feast to the eye of the painter. And if all this is +felt below Assouan, what can be said of Philae--beautiful Philae--that +"dream of loveliness," as a modern writer justly calls it? + +Our travellers, while waiting for the interminable arrangements with +the Reis of the Cataracts, took the road along the shore; and after +passing through a succession of curious and picturesque villages, +arrived at one called Mahatta, where they hired a little boat to take +them across to the beautiful island. Rocks of the most fantastic +shapes are piled up on both sides of the shore; but when once you have +emerged from these into the deep water, "Pharaoh's Bed" and the other +temples stand out against the sky in all their wonderful beauty. +Philae was the burial-place of Osiris, and "By him who sleeps in +Philae" was the common oath of the old Egyptians. The temples are too +well known by drawings to need description; but what is less often +mentioned by travellers is that the larger one, originally dedicated +to the sun, was used for a long time by the Christians as a church. +Consecration crosses are deeply engraved on every one of these grand +old pillars; and at one end is an altar, with a cross in the centre, +in white marble, and a piscina at the side, with a niche for the +sacred elements; and above this recess is a beautiful cross deeply cut +in the stone, together with the emblem of the vine. The cross is also +let into the principal gateways. There was an Italian inscription +commemorating the arrival of the first Roman mission sent by Gregory +XVI., and a tablet in French recording the arrival of the French army +there under Napoleon in 1799, signed by General Davoust. + +The gentlemen of the party decided to pitch their tents in the island +till the question of the passing of the Cataracts was decided; and +while this operation was going on, one of the ladies sat down to +sketch. She was quietly painting, luxuriating in the beauty and +silence around her, and watching the sun setting gloriously behind the +temple, when all of a sudden a deep bell boomed across the water and +was repeated half-a-dozen times. It was the "Angelus." Even the least +Catholic of the party was struck and impressed by this unexpected +sound, so unusual in a country where bells are unknown, and the only +call for prayer is from the minaret top. Instinctively they knelt, and +then arose the question "Where could the bell come from?" There was no +sign of habitation or human beings either on the island itself or on +the opposite shores, and the dragoman himself was equally at fault. At +last, on questioning the boatmen, they found that behind some hills a +short distance off was a convent--sort of "convalescent home" for the +sick monks of the Barri mission. The English lady decided at once to +go and see it, and on arriving at the long low stone building, found +that the Franciscan father, who was almost its solitary occupant, had +just returned from the White Nile, being one of a mission to the +blacks in the Barri country, a month's journey south of Khartoun. +{776} He had been at death's door from fever; and on leaving Khartoun +for Philae, an eighteen days' ride on camels, had been attacked by +dysentery, and left for dead in the burning desert by the caravan; +only a faithful black convert remained by his side, and he felt that +his last hour was come; when the arrival of poor Captain Speke, on his +way home from one of his last explorations, changed the state of +things. With true Christian charity our countryman at once ordered a +halt, and devoted himself to the nursing and doctoring of the dying +monk; so that in a few days he was so far recovered as to be able to +resume his journey, and arrived safely at Philae. He said he owed his +life, under God, entirely to the kindness of this Englishman; and his +only anxiety seemed to be to show his gratitude by doing everything he +could for those of his nation. He invited our travellers to take up +their abode in the convent, and gave them a most interesting account +of the missionary work of his order. They have chartered a small +vessel, which they have called the "Stella Matutina," and which plies +up and down the river, and enables them to visit their stations on +each bank. But they have every kind of hardship to encounter from the +treachery or stupidity or positive hostility of the different tribes, +from the intense heat, and above all, from the deadly malaria which +had carried off seventy of their brothers in three years. But there +are ever fresh soldiers of this noble army ready and eager to fill up +the ranks. + +The ladies rode home by the way of the desert, and reached their boats +in safety. The next morning, at five o'clock, the same road was +resumed by two of the party who were anxious to to reach the convent +in time for the early mass. They met nothing on their seven-miles' +ride but a hyaena, who was devouring a camel which they had left dying +the night before. The little convent chapel was very nice; and among +the vestments sent by the _oeuvre apostolique_ and worked by the +ladies of the Leopoldstadt mission, one of the party recognized a +court-dress which had been presented for the purpose by a Hungarian +friend of hers at Rome. It was strange to find it again in the depths +of Nubia. The mass was served by two little woolly-haired negro boys +from the good old father's school, whose attachment to him was like +that of a dog to its master. He was in some trouble as to finding +clothes for them. The Nubians dispense with every thing of the kind +except a fringed leathern girdle round the loins, decorated with +shells. The children have not even that. However, in the _dahabièh_ a +piece of rhododendron-patterned chintz was found, carefully sent from +England for the covering of the divans; and with that, certain +articles of dress were manufactured, gorgeous in coloring, and +therefore perfect in native eyes, however ludicrous and incongruous +they might appear to Europeans. The following day was fixed for one of +the boats to go up the cataracts, and the party started early for what +is called the "first gate," to see the operation. No one who has not +lived for some months with this "peuple criard," as Lamartine calls +them, can imagine the din and screaming of the Arabs as each dangerous +rapid is passed; the Reis all the time shouting and storming and +leaping from one stone to the other like one possessed. But the ascent +is child's play compared to the descent. So many accidents have +happened in the latter, and so many boats have been swamped, that the +captains now insist on the passengers landing on an island near, while +their boats rush down the rapids. It is a beautiful sight, the way +those apparently unwieldy vessels are steered, and clear the rocks as +it were with a bound, amidst the frantic yells and cheers of the whole +population. A number of men, for a trifling baksheesh, swam down the +current on logs; one with his little child before him; but an +Englishman, attempting {777} to do it a year or two ago, was caught in +the whirlpool and instantly drowned. After watching this exciting +operation, the party dined together at Philae in their tent, and then +rowed round and round the island by moonlight, which exceeded in +loveliness all they had hitherto seen; the vividness of the +reflections were beyond belief; and reading or writing was easy in the +brilliant light. + +Our traveller availed herself of the kind Father Michael Angelo's +proposal, and slept at the convent. He gave them some curious arms, +and hippopotamus-teeth from the White Nile, and some ostrich-eggs +arranged as drinking-vessels, with shells and leather strips: his sole +furniture in his native tent. The English, in return, gave him a +quantity of medicines, which he eagerly accepted for his mission, to +which he was hoping to return. After early mass the next day, he +escorted them to see the Island of Biggeh with its picturesque temple, +and then to the quarries of Syene, where an uncut obelisk of great +size still remains embedded in the sand. Some idea was entertained in +England of using it for Prince Albert's monument; but the difficulty +of carriage and the distance from the river would make its transfer +almost impossible. Far simpler would be the proposal of taking the +Luxor obelisk, already given to the English by Mehemet Ali, the sister +one to that successfully transported to Paris by the French. It is a +thousand pities to leave it where it is, and to miss the occasion of +adding so unique and valuable a monument to our art-treasures. + +This, the last day of our traveller's stay at Assouan, was spent in +making a few last purchases, visiting the old castle overlooking the +river, and exploring the island of Elephantine, which offers beautiful +sketching. But the inhabitants are even more importunate as beggars +than their confraternity at Thebes; and it required all the eloquence +of the good priest to prevent their appropriating the contents of the +traveller's paint-box. She purchased from them many strings of bright +beads, which constitute their sole idea of female dress. A curious +funeral took place in the evening, an empty boat being carried for the +dead man, who was buried with his arms and his spear; while a funeral +dirge was sung over him by his tribe. It was curious, as being +identical with the hieroglyphics of similar scenes in the tombs of the +kings. Many of the customs of these people are purely pagan; for +instance, when an Arab makes his coffee, he pours out the first three +cups on the ground as a libation to the sheik, who first invented the +beverage. The slave-trade, though nominally abolished by the viceroy, +is carried on vigorously at Assouan. The governor goes through the +form of confiscating the cargo and arresting the owners of the ship; +but, after a few days, a handsome baksheesh on the part of the +slave-owner and captain settles the matter; and their live cargo is +transported to Cairo, there to be disposed of in the harems or +elsewhere. + +To the Catholic traveller in this country nothing can be more +melancholy than the utterly degraded condition of the people, who are +really very little removed from the brute creation. Years of +ill-usage, hardship, and wrong have ground down the Fellah to the +abject condition of a slave; and the utter extinction of Christianity +among them seems to preclude all hope of their rising again. Yet Egypt +was once the home of saints. From Alexandria, the seat of all that was +most learned and refined, the see of St. Athanasius, and St. +Alexander, and St. Cyril, and St. John the Almoner, and a whole string +of holy patriarchs, bishops, and martyrs, up to the very desert of +Syene, peopled with anchorites, the whole land teemed with saints. And +now, the little handful of Franciscan fathers, scattered here and +there, sowing once more the good seed at the cost of their lives, is +all that remains to bear witness to the truth. + +------ + +{778} + + +[ORIGINAL.] + +THY WILL BE DONE + + +I. + + My soul a little kingdom is, + Where God's most holy will + Shall reign in undivided sway, + Potent and grand and still. + + I'll kneel before the crystal throne, + And kiss the golden rod; + O peace unspeakable, to bow + Before the will of God! + + What though my weary feet should fail. + My tongue refuse to praise, + God knows my soul will steadfastly + Still follow in his ways. + + +II. + + The time has come, my soul, the time has come + To prove the depth of thy oft-vaunted love; + A sullen gloom hangs round us like a fog, + And lowering clouds are drooping from above. + + Would it were light, or dark, not this grey gloom; + Would that the terror of some sudden crash + Might break this stifling, dumb monotony! + O for some deafening peal or blinding flash! + + Weary and old and sick, like ancient Job, + I crouch in haggard woe and scan the past, + Or drag the leaden moments at my heels, + Mocking wise fools who say that life runs fast. + +{779} + + Nothing to conquer now--no call for strength; + Naught to contend with--only to wait and bear, + And see my withering powers and blighted gifts-- + No room to act--nothing to do or dare: + Speak now, my soul, if thou hast aught to say + If thou seest light or any hope of day. + + +III. + + Fret not this holy stillness with thy cries-- + Patience, perturbed clay! + Lest thou should'st drown the voice of the All-wise + With clamorous dismay. + + Thinkest thou that clouds and mists are less God's work, + Than sun or moon or stars? + His will is good, whether it bind the free + Or sunder prison bars. + + His hand has measured out each feather's weight + Of this most grievous load; + He bore the cross we bear, his heart, like ours, + Once in life's furnace glowed. + + We shall in heaven sing a psalm of joy + For every earth-wrung moan; + One little hour more, the work well done. + And we are all God's own. + + +-------- + +CONTRASTS + + + There is no sound of anguish in the air, + Bees hum, birds sing, the breeze is balmy-sweet + And from the blooming hawthorn overhead + A rosy shower droppeth at my feet. + + No matter! God be praised--some untried heart, + Sweet with the dewy freshness of life's dawn, + Is gathering a glad presage of success + From this bright, pitiless, resplendent morn. + + +------ + +{780} + + + +[From the Irish Industrial Magazine.] + +THE INDUSTRIAL ARTS OF OUR ANCESTORS. + + + +BY M. HAVERTY, ESQ. + + + +ARTS OF CONSTRUCTION. + +In considering the building arts, as practised by the inhabitants of +this country in past ages, we must necessarily divide the subject +according to epochs. The ethnologist would of course begin with his +favorite scientific classification of the Stone, the Bronze and the +Iron periods; but this division is, to say the least of it, a very +arbitrary, very indefinite, and very doubtful one. It leaves much too +wide a scope for imagination, and offers no satisfactory explanation +of social development; and the following obvious and natural order of +periods, in the present instance, will answer our purpose, namely: + +1. The Pre-Christian period, extending from some indefinite epoch of +the pre-historic ages, down to the establishment of Christianity in +Ireland, in the fifth century; 2. The early Christian period, +extending from the last-mentioned epoch to the commencement of the +Danish wars, in the beginning of the ninth century; 3. The period of +obscurity and barbarism into which this country was plunged by those +fierce and long-protracted wars, and from which it began to emerge in +the reign of Brian, and after the battle of Clontarf, in 1014; 4. The +period which followed that just mentioned, and which extends beyond +the Anglo-Norman invasion until the native Irish ceased to act as a +distinct people; and, [sic--no 5.] 6. The period which was inaugurated +by the aforesaid Anglo-Norman epoch, and descended to modern times, +embracing the ages, first of noble Gothic abbeys, and feudal keeps of +Norman barons, and walled towns; and then of the fortified bawns and +strong solitary towers of new proprietors, in the Tudor, Stuart, and +Williamite times. + +In the first of these periods there was no stone and mortar masonry +known in Ireland, nor was there any knowledge of the arch. Of +cyclopean masonry--masonry in which huge stones were frequently +employed, but never any cement--some stupendous and wonderful examples +belonging to this first period still remain; but there was no cemented +work. This we may take as absolutely certain, notwithstanding the +notions of some modern antiquaries about the supposed pre-Christian +origin of the round towers. This pagan theory of the round towers is a +pure creation of what we may call the conjectural school of Irish +antiquaries. The ancient Irish never dreamt of it. It was suggested at +a time when scarcely anything was known of the original native source +of Irish history; and it has seldom been advocated except by those who +are either still unacquainted with these sources of our history, or +else who are carried away by false ideas of early Irish civilization, +and visionary theories of ancient Irish fire-worship and Orientalism; +for all which there is not the slightest foundation in the actual +history of the country. It is right that this should be distinctly +understood: without entering into lengthened arguments on the subject, +which would be out of place here, it ought to be quite sufficient for +any rational person to know, that the character of all the remains of +undoubted pagan buildings in Ireland is utterly inconsistent with the +{781} supposition that the same people who built them also built the +round towers; and that such knowledge as we actually possess of the +manners and customs of the pagan Irish shows the absurdity of the +notion that the round towers were built by them. The passages of +ancient Irish writings which may be adduced to show that the round +towers were built by Christians are extremely numerous, while there is +not one single iota of evidence in the written monuments of Irish +history, either printed or MS., for their pagan origin--nothing, in +fact, but wild, unsupported conjecture and imagination. And such being +the case, and all the writings and researches of such distinguished +Irish historical scholars as Petrie, O'Donovan, and O'Curry, who have +passed away, and of Wilde and Todd, and Graves and Reeves, and +Ferguson, etc., tending to overturn the visionary theories of Irish +antiquities, of which the round tower phantasy has been the most +noted, it is time to abandon this last remnant of a false and exploded +system. + +What, then, are the remains which we have of the buildings or +structures of the ancient Irish belonging to the first, or pagan, +period? They are various, and exceedingly numerous. In the first +place, there are the _raths_, or earthen forts, with which the whole +face of the country is still absolutely dotted. These raths were the +dwelling-places of the Irish, not only indeed, in pagan times, but +much more recently. They were originally rather steep earthworks, +surrounded by a ditch, and topped by a strong paling or stockade; +sometimes there was a double or treble line of intrenchment, and +within the inner fence the family or families of the occupants dwelt +in timber or hurdle houses, of which, from the perishable nature of +the materials, no traces of course remain. The cattle, too, were +driven for safety within the inclosure, when it was known that an +enemy was abroad; and it is probable that the position of a great many +of the raths on a sloping surface was selected for purposes of +drainage, seeing that the cattle were so frequently to be inclosed. It +is also worthy of note, that these earthen forts were always +polygonal, generally octagonal, and we have never seen one of them +actually round; although it would have been much easier to describe +the plain circle than the regular polygonal figure adopted. + +When the inclosures were constructed of stone; they were called +_cahirs_ or _cashels_. It has been stated by antiquaries that the +stone forts were built by the early Irish colonists, called Firbolgs, +and the earthen forts by the subsequent colony of Tuath de Danaans; +but it is probable that each colony built their strongholds of the +materials which they found most convenient. In the rich plains of +Meath, where there are very few surface stones that could have been +employed for the purpose, we find none but earthen forts; and in the +Isles of Arran, where there is little indeed besides solid rock, the +Firbolgs necessarily constructed their famous duns of stone. These +vast Firbolg duns of Arran must have been impregnable in those days, +if defended by sufficient garrison; and their size and number in a +place so small and barren show that almost the whole remnant of the +race must have been compelled by hard necessity to seek shelter there +against their pressing foes. It would also appear that the abundant +supply of stone induced the occupants of those Arran forts to +substitute stone houses in their interior for the habitations of +timber and wattles used elsewhere; as we here find numerous remains of +the small beehive houses, called _cloghanes_, formed by the +overlapping of flat stones, laid horizontally, until they meet at top, +thus roofing in the house without an arch. Both cloghanes and forts +are built, of course, without cement; and no one could for a moment +imagine that the Round Tower, of which a portion still {782} remains +in the largest island, could possibly have been the work of the same +masons. + +The style of building is the same in the Duns of Aran; in Staig Fort, +in Kerry; in the Greenan of Aileach, in Donegal; and in general in any +of the primitive _cahirs_ or _cashels_, wherever they exist in +Ireland; nor is there any material difference between these and the +similar structures to be found in Wales--such as the Castell-Caeron +over Dolbenmaen, in Caernarvonshire. + +The same Irish word, Saor, (pronounced Seer,) originally signified +both a carpenter and a mason; and in an Irish poem, at least eight +hundred and fifty years old, we have a list of the ancient builders, +who erected the principal strongholds of pagan times in Ireland: such +as--"Casruba, the high-priced cashel-builder, who employed quick axes +to smoothen stones;" and "Rigriu and Garvon, son of Ugarv, the +cashel-builders of Aileach," and "Troiglethan, who sculptured images, +and was the rath-builder of the Hill of Tara;" while every one +familiar with the native Irish traditions has heard the name of +Grubban-Saor, to whose skill half the ancient castles of Ireland were, +without any reference to chronology, supposed to owe their strength. + +An Irish antiquary of the seventeenth century, who enjoyed the +friendship of Sir James Ware, writes as if he believed that the +ancient pagan Irish understood the use of cement, although, as he +confesses, no vestige of stone and mortar work by them remained in his +day. But his mode of arguing, as it will be perceived, is very +inconclusive. After enumerating several of the ancient raths and +cashels of Ireland, he writes: "We have evidence of their having been +built like the edifices of other kingdoms of the times in which they +were built; and why should they not? for there came no colony into +Erin but from the eastern world, as from Spain, etc.; and it would be +strange if such a deficiency of intellect should mark the parties who +came into Ireland, as that they should not have the sense to form +their residences and dwellings after the manner of the countries from +which they went forth, or through which they travelled." [See +Introduction to Dudley Mac Firbis's great "Book of Genealogies," +translated in "O'Curry's Lectures," pp. 222, etc.] It is quite certain +that the early colonizers of Ireland, to whom Mac Firbis thus alludes, +were a portion of that great Celtic wave of population which passed +from East to West over Europe, leaving the same earthern mounds and +cyclopean stone structures behind as monuments wherever they went; but +it is equally certain, that if these ancient colonies visited Assyria, +and Egypt, and Greece in their peregrinations, as Mac Firbis believed +they did, they did not carry with them Assyrian, or Egyptian, or +Grecian masonry or architecture into Ireland. The raths and cashels +which they constructed were exceedingly simple in their character, and +in very few indeed of the former is there the slightest grace of +stonework to be discovered. Caves were very often formed under the +raths; and Mac Firbis states that under the rath of Bally O Dowda, in +Tireragh, he himself had seen "nine smooth stone cellars," and that +its walls were still of the height of "a good cow-keep." Nor were the +contents of the ancient Irish dwellings less simple than the buildings +themselves; for we find by the Brehon Laws that "the Seven valuables +of the house of a chieftain were--a caldron, vat, goblet, mug, reins, +horse-bridle, and pin;" the first-mentioned articles indicating +clearly the usages of hospitality, which always formed the +predominating institution of the Irish. The same book of Brehon Laws +refers to "a house with four doors, and a stream through the centre, +to be provided for the sick"--such, apparently, being the ideas at +that time of what a hospital should be. + +{783} + +It is hard to say when the popular notion originated which attributes +the ancient raths and mounds to the Danes. It is quite dear that Mac +Firbis knew very well they were not Danish, though the idea must have +prevailed when he wrote, (A.D. 1650;) for his contemporary, Lord +Castlehaven, speaks of withdrawing his troops, during the civil war of +1645, within one of the "Danish forts," which were so numerous in the +country; and such was the fashion of attributing all our antiquities +to a people who had impressed the memory of the nation with such +terrible and indelible traditions of themselves, that even Archdeacon +Lynch, the author of "Cambrensis Eversus," supposes the Danes to have +been the builders of the round towers. Dr. Molyneux, who wrote toward +the close of the same century, treats us to a whole book about "the +Danish Forts and Mounds;" but we know perfectly well that the Danes of +Ireland resided only in the seaport towns and their vicinities, and +had no dwellings, and consequently no raths or mounds in the interior +of the country. + +Besides the earthen and stone forts, which, it must be remembered, +were inhabited in the early Christian as well as in the pagan times, +and down to a period which it is impossible now to define, we have +several remains of the early Irish habitations, called _cranogues_. +These were small stockaded and generally artificial islands, in the +smaller lakes, and were only accessible by means of boats, ancient +specimens of which, hewn out of a single tree, have been found in the +vicinity of the cranogues in recent times. Some of these cranogues are +known to have been occupied in comparatively modern times; and the +strong timber stakes by which they were generally surrounded are, in a +few instances, still found singularly fresh, and with indications of +having been connected by a strong framework. + +Of the state of the building arts in Ireland during the early +Christian period we are enabled to form a tolerably accurate idea, +both by the large number of remains still existing, and by the notices +on the subject which we find in historical documents. Many of the very +earliest Christian edifices devoted to religion in Ireland were built +of stone; but it is clear, nevertheless, that the national fashion was +to construct them of timber; and this fashion the Irish had in common +with the Britons, or, we should rather say, with the Celtic nations +generally. Strabo says the houses of the Gauls were constructed of +poles and wattle work; and we learn from Bede, that among the Britons +building with stone was regarded as a characteristic Roman practice. +We know that both in Ireland and Britain there was a national +prejudice in favor of the custom of employing timber to construct +their churches. The first three churches erected in Ireland--those, +namely, constructed by St. Palladius in his unsuccessful mission +immediately before St Patrick--were of oak. Long after this time, in +the sixth century, St. Columba lived in a wooden cell in the island of +Hy, as his biographer, St. Adamnan, relates; and the use of timber for +their religious edifices was much in favor with the Columbian monks +wherever they settled. So late as the year 1142, when St. Malachy was +building the church of the famous Cistercian Abbey of Mellifont, in +Louth, he received some opposition from one of the local magnates, +because he had undertaken to erect it in an expensive and solid manner +of stone; the argument of this person being, that "they were Scots, +not Frenchmen," and that a wooden oratory in the old Irish fashion +would have sufficed. + +It is a curious circumstance connected with this Abbey of Mellifont, +that it is the only Irish edifice of a date older than the +Anglo-Norman period in the ruins of which Dr. Petrie discovered any +bricks to have been used; and we know that it was erected by monks +whom St. Malachy had sent to study in the monastery of St. Bernard, in +France; whence the allusion to {784} Frenchmen made by the Irishman +who had objected to the style of the building. Still it is plain that +the ecclesiastical edifices of stone were very numerous in the country +at that very time; for a few years after St. Gelasius, the Archbishop +of Armagh, caused a limekiln of vast dimensions to be constructed, in +order, as the annalists say, to make lime for the repairs of the +churches of Armagh which had been allowed to fall into decay. + +The primitive wooden churches were, at least in some instances, +constructed of planed boards, and were thatched with reeds, the walls +being also frequently protected by a covering of reeds, for which, in +later times, a sheeting of lead was sometimes substituted. This use of +lead sheeting became very general in England; but we may presume that +it was employed in comparatively few cases in Ireland. Sometimes, +instead of boards or hewn timber, wattles were employed, and these +were plastered with mud, the wattles being formed of strong twigs +interlaced. We shall presently see that the use of wattles for +building purposes was in vogue in Ireland up to comparatively modern +times. It is stated in the life of St. Patrick, that when that apostle +visited Tyrawley, in the county of Sligo, finding that timber was not +abundant, he erected a church of mud--so ancient is the custom of +employing that material for building in Ireland--a material, however, +which never could be rendered as suitable for the purpose in our moist +climate, as it is found to be in some of the southern portions of +Europe. + +From the very introduction of Christianity, we repeat, stone and +mortar were frequently employed for the building of churches in +Ireland. A building of this description was always called in Irish +_Damhliag_, a word literally signifying "stone church." This term is +still preserved in the name of Duleek in the county of Meath, where +the old stone church so called, and which is supposed, on good +authority, to have been the very first such edifice erected in +Ireland, is still in good preservation; it was built by St. Kienan, a +disciple of St. Patrick, who died in 490; and its age is thus +established beyond any doubt. The stone building, or _Damhliag_, as +Dr. Petrie has remarked, is always latinized by the old Irish writers +_templum, ecclesia_, or _basilica_; while the wooden building is +simply called oratorium. + +The ancient Irish churches are almost invariably small, seldom +exceeding 80 feet in length, and not usually being more than 60 feet. +The great church or cathedral of Armagh was originally 140 feet long; +but this was almost a solitary exception. The smaller churches are +simple oblong quadrangles, while in the larger ones there is a second +and smaller quadrangle at the east end, which was the chancel or +sanctuary, and which is separated from the nave by a large +semicircular arch. The entrance door was always originally in the west +end, and square-headed, the top lintel being generally formed of a +single very large flat stone; but in every instance the square-headed +western doorway was in process of time built up, and another doorway, +in the pointed style, opened in the south wall, near its western +extremity. The windows are extremely small, and very few, generally +not more than three, two of which are in the sanctuary, and all being +in the south wall; they are frequently triangular-headed, formed by +two flat stones leaning against each other; and it is probable that in +many cases they were never glazed. The sides of the doorways and +windows are inclined, in the manner of the cyclopean buildings--a +style of architecture with which they have more than one point in +common; for enormous stones are frequently used, the single stone +being made to form both faces of the wall. Polygonal stones are +employed, without any attempt to build in courses; and even flat +stones are often placed at angles, when, with the aid of very little +skill, they might have {785} been placed horizontally; while another +singular feature often to be observed in the oldest Irish stone +churches is, that the side walls and ends are built up independently, +and not bound together at the corners by any interlapping stones. All +these peculiarities are to be found, in a very marked degree, in the +extremely curious specimens of seventh and eighth century buildings in +the South Islands of Arran; and, with the exception of some Christian +_cloghanes_, and some stone-roofed oratories like those near Dingle, +all these early Christian edifices have been built with lime cement. + +From the rudeness of the masonry in the buildings of the early +Christian period, a very curious argument has been adduced in favor of +the Pagan origin of the Round Towers. Some persons, in fact, do not +hesitate to argue that, as the Round Towers frequently exhibit a +better style of masonry than the ruined churches in their +neighborhood, they must have been erected by some _earlier_ race of +builders, thus adopting the very opposite to the correct and natural +conclusion which the premises would suggest. Such persons must have a +very misty idea of Irish history; they do not appear to be aware that +there is no country in Europe, except Greece and Rome, of which the +ancient history can boast of such a clear and consecutive series of +written and traditional annals as that of Ireland. This is the +acknowledged opinion of the most learned investigators. There is, +then, no room whatever for any such conjectural race or epoch as that +which the theory in question would suppose in Irish history; there is +no room for such wild hypotheses as may be framed, for instance, to +account for the remains of extinct civilized races in the interior of +North America. Any one who has the singularly distinct chain of +ancient Irish chronicles present to his mind must be aware of this +fact, and must know perfectly well that there was no mysterious +unknown race in Ireland before the introduction of Christianity who +could have built the round towers--even if it were probable that such +a race would have built these, and left no other fragment of stone and +mortar work in the land! As to the disparity sometimes to be observed +in the masonry of the towers and the ancient churches beside them, it +can be explained without any such absurd hypothesis. It is clear from +the mouldings of the windows, and other architectural details, and +even from the statements of our annalists, that some of the Round +Towers are not older than the eleventh or twelfth century, and +consequently their masonry might well be superior to that of churches +built some four or five hundred years before them. But, even when the +builders were contemporary, they were not such dull craftsmen as not +to have understood perfectly well that a more careful style of +workmanship was required in an edifice which they should carry to a +height of 120 or 130 feet than in one of which the walls would not +exceed 10 or 14 feet in elevation. In fact, a little consideration +must show any enlightened man that the theory to which we have +referred is utterly untenable. + +Mr. Parker, a high authority on questions of architectural antiquity, +has, in his valuable series of papers on the subject in the +"Gentleman's Magazine," thrown considerable light on Irish mediaeval +architecture. One point, of which he has been decidedly the first +observer, is, that all the details of an ancient building in Ireland +seldom or never belong to the period at which the building was, +according to record, erected. This is an extremely carious fact; and +there can be no doubt of Mr. Parker's accuracy on the point; but it +appears to us that he invariably finds his remark verified in castles +and abbeys of the Anglo-Norman period in Ireland. To what, then, is +the peculiarity to be attributed? Could the architects have been +Irish, and could they have adopted their principles from the study of +older edifices {786} in England? On this point we are not aware that +he comes to any conclusion; but, in describing the interesting details +of Cormac's Chapel, on the Rock of Cashel--one of the most valuable +remains of mediaeval architecture in the empire, and which was built +some fifty years before the Anglo-Norman invasion--he says, "It is +neither earlier nor later in style than buildings of the same date in +England; and with the exception of a few particulars, agrees in detail +with them." From this we may conclude, that before the arrival of the +Anglo-Normans the Irish architects were fully up to the contemporary +state of their art, though subsequently the Anglo-Irish fell into the +anachronisms which Mr. Parker so frequently points out. + +When Henry II. resolved on spending the Christmas of 1171 in Dublin, +there was no building in that old capital of the Ostmen sufficiently +spacious to accommodate his court; and a pavilion was accordingly +constructed for the purpose of plastered wattles, in the Irish +fashion, on a site at the south side of the present Dame street This +mode of constructing houses must have been very convenient in times +when the face of a country was liable every other year to be +devastated by war, and when it would have been folly to erect a +habitation intended to be permanent. The destruction of all the +dwellings in a territory at that time, was not quite so ruinous a +catastrophe as it might seem to us, especially as it was a very usual +thing to have the granaries under ground. + +The employment of wattles for one purpose or other, in the +construction of buildings, appears to have been very long retained in +Ireland; and they seem to have been constantly used by the masons as +centering in the building of arches, as may be seen from an +examination of any of the ruined abbeys or castles throughout the +country, where the impression of the interwoven twigs will always be +found in the mortar of the vaulted roofs and arches. Mr. Parker +appears to have been particularly struck by this circumstance, which, +however, is familiar to every Irish antiquary; but he tells us that he +has found the same thing in a few instances in England. + +A French gentleman, who travelled through Ireland in 1644, has left us +a curious account of the mode of constructing their habitations +employed at that time by the rural population. He writes: "The towns +are built in the English fashion, but the houses in the country are in +this manner: two stakes are fixed in the ground, across which is a +transverse pole, to support two rows of rafters on the two sides, +which are covered with leaves and straw. The cabins are of another +fashion. There are four walls the height of a man, supporting rafters, +over which they thatch with straw and leaves; they are without +chimneys, and make the fire in the middle of the hut, which greatly +incommodes those who are not fond of smoke." + +The writer goes on to describe the fortified domiciles of the gentry. +He says: "The castles or houses of the nobility consist of four walls +extremely high, thatched with straw; but, to tell the truth, they are +nothing but square towers without windows, or, at least, having such +small apertures as to give no more light than there is in a prison; +they have little furniture, and cover their room with rushes, of which +they make their beds in summer, and of straw in winter; they put the +rushes a foot deep on their floors, and on their windows, and many of +them ornament the ceilings with branches." (The Tour of M. De la +Boullaye le Gouz.) + +This description is applicable to those numerous, solitary, and gloomy +buildings called castles, the ruins of which are so conspicuous in +every part of the country, and a considerable number of which were +erected by the Undertakers, in the reign of James I.; while it must be +confessed that the mode of constructing the hovels of the peasantry, +as described in the preceding extract, has not undergone much +improvement, up to the present day, in many parts of Ireland. + +------ + +{787} + + +Translated from the Spanish. + +PERICO THE SAD; OR, THE ALVAREDA FAMILY. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A tempestuous night covered the sky with flying clouds, which were +rushing further on to discharge their torrents. Sometimes they +separated in their flight, and the moon appeared between them, mild +and tranquil, like a herald of concord and peace in the midst of the +strife. + +In the short intervals, during which this placid light illumined earth +and heaven, a pale and emaciated man might have been seen making his +way along a solitary road. The uncertainty of his manner, his +apprehensive eyes, and the agitation of his face, would have shown +clearly that he was a fugitive. + +A fugitive indeed! for he fled from inhabited places; fled from his +fellow-men; fled from human justice; fled from himself and from his +own conscience. This man was an assassin, and no one who had seen him +fleeing, as the clouds above were fleeing before the invisible force +which pursued them, would have recognized the honorable man, the +obedient son, the loving husband and devoted father of a few days +since, in this miserable being, now fallen under the irremissible +sentence of the law of expiation. + +Yes, this man was Perico, not seeking a peace now and for ever lost, +but fleeing from the present and in dread of the future. + +He had passed days of despair and nights of horror in the most +solitary places, sustaining himself on acorns and roots; shrinking +from the light of day, which accused, and from the eyes of men, that +condemned him. But no darkness could hide the images that were always +before him, no silence awe their clamors. His unhappy sister; his +disconsolate mother; the bereaved old man, his father's friend, +haunted his vision; the reprobation of his honorable race oppressed +his soul; and more appalling than all these, the solemn, mournful, and +warning note of the passing bell, which he had heard calling to Heaven +for mercy upon his victim, sounded continually in his ears. In vain +pride insinuated, through its most seductive organ, worldly honor, +that he had, and that not to vindicate himself would have been a +reproach; that the injuries were greater than the reprisal. + +A voice which the cries of passion had silenced, but which became more +distinct and more severe in proportion as they, like all that is +human, sank and failed--the eternal voice of conscience, said to him, +"O that thou hadst never done it!" + +There came, borne upon the wind, an extraordinary sound, now hoarser, +now failing and fainter, as the gusts were more or less powerful. What +could it be? Everything terrifies the guilty soul. Was it the roar of +the wind, the pipe of an organ, or a voice of lamentation? The nearer +Perico approached it, the more inexplicable it seemed. The road the +unhappy man was following led toward the point from whence the sound +proceeded. He reaches it, and his terror is at his height when, unable +to distinguish anything--for a black cloud has covered the moon--he +hears directly above his bead the portentous wail, so sad, so vague, +so awful! + +{788} + +At this moment the clouds are broken, and over all the moonlight +falls, clear and silvery, like a mantle of transparent snow. Every +object comes out of the mystery of shadows. He sees _reija_ asleep in +its valley like a white bird in its nest. He lifts his eyes to +discover the cause of the sound. O horror! Upon five posts he sees +five human heads! From these proceed the doleful lamentation, a +warning from the dead to the living. [Footnote 185] + + [Footnote 185: Various witnesses have testified to this frightful + phenomenon, which is naturally explained, the sound being caused by + the wind passing through the throat, month, and ears of heads placed + as located above.] + +Perico starts back aghast, and perceives, for the first time, that he +is not alone. A man is standing near one of the posts. He is tall and +vigorous, and his bearing is manly and erect. He is dressed richly +after the manner of contrabandists. His bronzed face is hard, bold, +and calm. He holds his hat in his hand, inclining uncovered before +these posts of ignominy a head which never was uncovered in human +respect; for it is that of an outlaw, of a man who has broken all ties +with society, and respects nothing in the world. But this man, +although impious, believes in God, and although criminal, is a +Christian, and is praying. + +When from an energetic and indomitable nature, emancipated from all +restrain, there issue a few drops of adoration, as water oozes from a +rock, what do you call it unbelievers? Is it superstitious fear? To +this man fear is a word without a meaning. Is it hypocrisy? Only the +heads of five dead men witness it. Is it moral weakness? He has +strength of soul unknown in society, where all lean upon something; he +stands alone. Is it a remembrance of infancy, a tribute to the mother +who taught him to pray? + +There exists no such memory for the abandoned orphan, who grew up +among the savage bulls he guarded. + +What is it then that bends his neck and detains him to pray in the +presence of the dead? + +After some moments the man concluded his prayer, replaced his hat, and +turning to Perico said, + +"Where are you going, sir?" + +Perico neither wished nor was able to answer. A vertigo had seized +him. + +"Where are you going, I say?" again asked the unknown. + +Perico remained silent. + +"Are you dumb?" proceeded the questioner, "or is it because you do not +choose to answer? If it is the last," he added, pointing to his gun, +"here is a mouth which obtains replies when mine fails." + +Perico's situation rendered him too desperate for reflection, and the +brand of cowardice which had been stamped upon his forehead, still +burned like a recent mark of the ignominious iron. He therefore +answered instantly, seizing his firelock. + +"And here is another that replies in the tone in which it is +questioned." + +The intentions of the unknown were not hostile, nor had he any idea of +carrying out his threat, though he did not lack the courage to do it. +Another so daring as he did not tread the soil of Andalucia. But the +arrogance of the poor worn youth pleased instead of offending him. + +"Comrade," he said, "I always like to take off my hat before drawing +my sword, but it suits me to know with whom I speak and whom I meet on +the road. You must have courage to be walking here; for they say that +Diego and his band are in this neighborhood, and you know, for all +Spain knows, who Diego is; where he puts his eye he puts his ball. The +leaves tremble upon the trees at sight of him, and the dead in their +graves at the sound of his name." + +All this was said without that Andalucian boastfulness, so grotesquely +exaggerated in these days, but with the naturalness of conviction, and +the serenity of one who states a simple truth. + +"What do I care for Diego and his band?" exclaimed Perico, not with +bravado, but with the most profound dejection. + +{789} + +As with failing voice he pronounced these words, he tottered and +leaned his head upon his gun. + +"What has taken you? What is the matter?" asked the stranger, noticing +his weakness. + +Perico did not reply, for so great was his exhaustion and such the +effect of his recent emotions that he fell down senseless. + +The unknown knelt down beside him and lifted his head. The moon shone +full upon that face, beautiful notwithstanding its mortal paleness, +and the traces of passion, anguish, and grief which marred it. + +"He is dead," said the stranger to himself, placing his rough hand +upon Perico's heart. The heart which, a few days before, was as pure +as the sky of May. "No," he continued, "he is not dead, but will die +here, like a dog, if he is not taken care of." + +And he looked at him again, for he felt awakening in his heart that +noble attraction which draws the strong toward the weak, the powerful +toward the helpless; for let skeptics say what they will, there is a +spark of divinity in the breast of every human creature. He rose to +his feet and whistled. + +He is answered by the sound of a brisk gallop, and a beautiful young +horse, with arched neck and rolling mane, comes up and stops before +his master, turning his fine head and brilliant eyes as if to offer +him the stirrup. + +The unknown raises the inanimate Perico in his robust arms, throws him +across the horse, springs up beside him, presses his knees gently to +the animal's flanks, and the noble creature darts away, gayly and +lightly, as if unconscious of the double weight. + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +In a solitary hostel, standing like a beggar beside the highway, the +innkeeper and his wife were seated before their fire, in the dull +tranquillity of persons as accustomed to the alternations of noisy +life by day and complete isolation by night as the inhabitants of +marshy places are to their intermittent fevers. + +"May evil light on that hard-skulled sailor who took it into his head +that there must be a new world, and never stopped till he ran against +it," said the woman. "Had not the king already cities enough in this? +What good has it done? Taken our sons off there, and sent us the +epidemic. Do say, Andres, and don't sit sleeping there like a mole, if +it has been of any other use." + +"Yes, wife, yes," answered the innkeeper, half' opening his eyes, "the +silver comes from there." + +"Plague take the silver!" exclaimed the woman. + +"And the tobacco," added the husband, slowly and lazily, again closing +his eyes, + +"A curse upon the tobacco!" said the wife angrily. "Do you think, you +unfeeling father, that the silver or the tobacco are worth the lives +they cost and the tears? Son of my soul! God knows what will become of +him in that land where they kill men like chinches, and where +everything is venomous, even the air!" + +They heard at this moment a peculiar whistle. The innkeeper, springing +to his feet, caught up the light and ran toward the door, exclaiming, +"The captain!" + +As he presented himself on the threshold, the rays of the lamp fell +upon a man on horseback, with another man that looked like a corpse +lying across the horse in front of him. + +"Help me take this fellow down," said the rider, in the rough tone of +a man of few words. + +The innkeeper handed the lamp to his wife, who had approached, and +made haste to obey. + +"Mercy to us! A dead man!" said she. "For the love of the Blessed +Mother, sir, do not leave him in our house!" + +{790} + +"He is not dead," said the horseman, "he is sick; nurse him up--that +is what women ore good for. Here is money to pay for the cure." + +Saying this, he threw down a piece of gold, and disappeared, the +resounding and measured gallop of his horse dying away gradually in +the distance. + +"If this is not a cool proceeding!" grumbled Martha. "What will you +bet that he, with his own hands, has not put the man in this state? +and he takes himself off and leaves him on ours! 'You cure him!' as if +it were nothing to cure a man who is dead or dying! As if this inn +were an hospital! The bully thinks he has only to command, as if he +were the king!" + +"Hush!" exclaimed the innkeeper, alarmed, "_will_ you be still, +long-tongue! Talk that way of Diego! Women are the very devil! What is +the use of grumbling, since you know there is nothing for it but to do +as these people tell us! Besides, this is a work of charity, so let's +be about it." + +They prepared, as well as they could, a bed in a garret. + +"He has no sign of blow or wound," said Andres, as he was undressing +the patient; "so you see, wife, it is a sickness like any other." + +"Look, look, Andres!" exclaimed Martha; "he has the scapular of our +Lady of Carmel around his neck." + +And as if the sight or influence of the blessed object had awakened in +her all the gentle sentiments of Christian humility, or as if the +sacred precept, "Thy neighbor as thyself," uttered by the brotherhood +in united devotion, had resounded clearly, she began to exclaim: "You +were right, Andres, it is a work of charity to assist him, poor +fellow! How young he is, and how forsaken! His poor mother! Come, +come, Andres, what are you doing, standing there like a post? Go! +hurry! bring me some wine to rub his temples; and kill a hen, for I am +going to make him some broth." + +"So it is," soliloquized Andres, as he went out--"at first, wouldn't +have him in the house; now she will turn the house out of the windows +for him. That's the way with women. It is hard to understand them." + +On the following night, a man of evil face and repugnant aspect came +to the inn. This man had been in the penitentiary, and was nicknamed +the convict. + +"God be with you, sir," said the innkeeper, with more fear than +cordiality, "what might be your pleasure?" + +"A whim of the captain's, curse him! for haven't I come to ask after +the sick, like the porter of a convent?" + +"He is not doing very well," answered the innkeeper; "he is in a +raging fever, is out of his mind, and talks of a murder he has +done--of dead men's heads." + +"Ho! so then he is a man that can handle arms," said the convict. +"Let's have a look at him." + +They mounted to the garret, and the innkeeper continued: + +"All day long I have been in a cold sweat with fear. There have been +people in the house, and even soldiers--if they had heard him!" + +The convict, who had been examining the delicate and wasted form of +Perico, interrupted with a movement of disdain. + +"Well, if he makes too much noise for you, quarter him upon the king." +[Footnote 186] + + [Footnote 186: Put him into the street.] + +"No, indeed!" cried Martha, "poor unfortunate! I have a son in America +who may be at this very hour in the same condition, abandoned by every +one, and calling, as this one calls, for his mother. No, no, sir, we +shall not desert him. Neither Our Lady, whose scapular he wears, nor +I." + +"Buy him sweetmeats," said the convict, and went down. + +"What news?' he asked of the innkeeper. + +"They say that a reward is to be offered for Diego's head." + +{791} + +"What?" asked the convict again, with quick and unusual interest. The +innkeeper repeated what he had said. The convict considered a moment, +and then continued, + +"Where do they think we are?" + +"Near Despenaperros." + +"Are they after us?" + +"Yes, there is a cavalry company at Sevilla, one of infantry at +Cordoba, and another of the mountain soldiery at Utrera." + +"There will be some shoes worn out before they see our faces, and if +they do get to see them it will cost them dear." + +"Yes, yes," Andres replied; "we know that whoever puts himself in +Diego's way may as well look for his grave; but then--there may be so +many of them . . ." + +"Perhaps you would like to get a crack of my fist on your bugle?" said +the bandit. + +"Not at all," said Andres, retreating a step or two. + +"Put more ballast in your tongue then--and hurry up with the bread +--quick now!" + +Andres hastened to obey. The bandit was going away when he heard +Martha's voice calling after him. + +"It slipped my mind--you take this money," she said, handing him the +piece of gold. "Give it to the captain, and tell him that what I do +for this lad I do for charity, and not for interest." + +"I shall be sure to give him such a reason. He accepts 'No' neither +when he says give, nor when he says take; but to settle it between +you, I will keep the money;" and setting spurs to his horse, he +disappeared. + +"You have done a wise thing!" said the innkeeper impatiently. "Will +the money, you foolish good-for-nothing, be better in the hands of +that big thief than in ours? Women!--ill hap to them! Only the devil +understands them." + +"I understand myself and God understands me," said the good woman, +returning to the garret. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +The care of the innkeeper's wife and the youth and robust constitution +of Perico vanquished the fever. At the end of a fortnight he was able +to rise. + +Perico evinced all his gratitude to Martha in a manner more heartfelt +than fluent. + +"You must not thank me" said the good woman, "for truly, the face I +put on when I saw you brought was not one of welcome; but I have taken +a liking to you because I see that you are a good son and a good +Christian." + +Perico hung his head in deep grief and humiliation. His physical +weakness had deadened in him the blind and furious impulse which had +exalted him, as such impulse does sometimes exalt gentle and timid +natures to a point past the limit which strong-minded and even violent +men respect. + +All that effervescence which caused such a surging of his passions, as +gas causes the juice of the grape to ferment, had ceased, as the foam +subsides upon the wine, leaving reflection, which, without diminishing +the greatness of his wrongs, condemned his method of redressing them. + +All the horror which the future inspired returned to Perico with +returning strength, and it was not lessened when Andres, taking the +occasion one day when his wife was about her work, said to him: + +"My friend, now that you are recovered you must seek your living +somewhere else, for--the more friendship, the more frankness, +sir--when you were out of your head you talked of a murder you had +committed. If it is true, and they find you here, we shall suffer for +it, and that will not be right; the just ought not to pay for sinners; +well-regulated charity, let Martha, who pretends to know better, say +what she will, begins at home. Nobody but that pumpkin-headed wife of +mine is capable of sustaining that Christian charity begins with one's +neighbor. As to me, I tell you the truth, I want nothing to do with +justice, for she has a heavy hand." + +{792} + +Perico did not reply, but went with tearful eyes to take leave of +Martha. The good soul felt his departure, for she had become fond of +him. The memory of her son had attached Martha to the unfortunate +young man, and the memory of his own mother had drawn Perico toward +the woman who acted toward him a mother's part. + +He took his gun, and was going out when he met the convict. + +"Which way?" said the robber. "Do you clear out in this fashion, +without so much as May God reward you! to the compassionate soul who +picked you up? This isn't the right thing, comrade. Besides, where can +you go hereabouts? Are you in a hurry to be put in the lock-up?" + +Perico remained silent; he neither thought nor reasoned--had no will +of his own. "Courage! and come along," proceeded the convict. "Here we +are taking more trouble to help you than you will take to let yourself +be helped." Perico followed him mechanically. + +"Look, Martha," said Andres, seeing Perico at a distance in company +with the robber, "look at your pet--and what a jewel he is, to be +sure! There he goes with the convict." + +"And what of it?" responded Martha. "I tell you, Andres, that he is a +good son and a good Christian." + +"An impostor and a vagabond, that has eaten up my hens--and you see +where he is going, and yet say that he is good! The devil only +understands women!" + +Perico and the convict, making their way through thickets and +difficult places, came at last to an elevation, upon which stood the +captain leaning on his gun, and guarding the slumbers of eight men, +who were lying around him on the slope. Near him grazed his beautiful +horse, which lifted its head from time to time to regard its master. + +"Here is this young man," said the convict as they drew near. + +Without changing his position, the captain slowly turned his eyes and +examined the new arrival from head to foot. His scrutiny finished, he +asked, + +"Are you a fugitive from justice?" + +Perico inclined his head, but did not answer. + +"There is no cause for fear," proceeded his questioner, and presently, +in brief phrases, added, + +"Men have fatal hours, and of these some are as red as blood and some +as black as darkness itself. One is enough to destroy a man, and turn +his heart to a stone which has neither pulse nor feeling, only weight. +He remains lost, for the past is past, and there is nothing to do but +bear it with pluck. Life is a fight, in which one must look before +him, like a brave man, and not behind, like a poltroon." + +"I cannot do it," exclaimed Perico vehemently. "If you knew--" + +The captain, with an imperative gesture, extended his arm to silence +him, and continued. + +"Here, each one carries his own secrets within himself, a sealed +packet, without awakening in the others either curiosity or interest. +If you have nowhere to go, stay with us; here we defend all we have +left, our life. Mine I do not guard because I value it, but to keep it +from the headsman." + +"But you rob?" said Perico. + +"We must do something," responded the bandit, returning, like a +tortoise, into his hard and impenetrable shell. + +Perico neither accepted nor refused the proposition, he remained +without volition, an inert body; chance disposed of his wretched +existence, as the winds dispose of the dry and heavy sands of the +desert. + + + +{793} + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +But while Perico, after the occurrences which we have related, was +dragging out a miserable existence among a band of criminals, what +became of the other individuals of this family? To what extremes had +they been carried by resentment, grief, despair, and revenge? + +Pedro, from the fatal day on which he lost his son, had shut himself +in his own house with his sorrow. The parish priest and some of his +friends went from time to time to keep him company--not to console +him, that was impossible, but to talk with him about his trouble, like +those who relieve vessels of the bitter water of the sea, not to right +them but to keep them from sinking. They had tried to persuade him to +renew his intercourse with the family of Perico, but without success. + +"No, no," he would answer on such occasions. "I have forgiven him +before God and men; but have to do with his people as though it had +not been, I cannot." + +"Pedro, Pedro, that is not forgiveness," said the priest. "It is the +letter but not the spirit of the law." + +"Father," replied the poor man, "God does not ask what is impossible." + +"No, but what he requires is possible." + +"Sir, you want me to be a saint, and I am not one; it is enough for me +to be a good Christian, and forgive. Have I molested them? Have I +sought justice? What more can I do?" + +"Pedro, returning good for evil, wise men walk in peace." + +"Mercy, mercy, father! why shave so close as to lay bare the brains? +God help and favor them; but each in his own house, and God with us +all." + +Maria had hidden herself with her daughter in the retirement of her +cottage, covering the despair and shame of the latter with the sacred +mantle of maternal love, her only refuge from the unanimous +disapproval and condemnation which she justly merited. The unfortunate +victims, Anna and Elvira, remained alone, but sustained in their +immense affliction by their religion and their conscience. Many months +passed in this way. At length two Capuchins came to the village to +hold a mission. These missions were instituted for the conversion of +the wicked, the awakening of the luke-warm, the encouragement of the +good, and the consolation of the sorrowful. + +The missionaries preached at night, and the church was filled with +people who came to hear the word of God, which teaches men to be pious +and humble. + +The good Maria succeeded in persuading her daughter to go to the +missions, and Rita, hard, bitter, and selfish, in her shame and +desperation, found in them repentance, with tears for the past, +penance and humiliation for the present, and for the future the divine +hand, which lifts the fallen one, who, bathed in tears, and prostrate +in ashes, implores its help. One night the subject of the sermon was +the forgiveness of injuries. Magnificent theme! Holy and sublime +beyond all others! The earnest preacher knew how to improve it, and +the believing people how to understand it. + +At the conclusion the good missionary knelt before the crucifix, and +with fervent zeal and ardent charity promised the Lord of mercy, in +the name of that multitude kneeling at his feet, that on the +succeeding night there should not be in the temple a single hard and +unreconciled heart. A burst of exclamations and tears confirmed the +promise of the devoted apostle. + +The day which followed was one of peace and love, according to the +spirit of the evangel. The most deeply-rooted enmities were ended; the +most irreconcilable foes embraced each other in the streets; the +angels in heaven had cause for rejoicing. + +Pedro went to see Anna. Terrible to the unhappy man was the entering +into that house. He approached Anna and embraced her in silence. The +afflicted mother shook, and tried in vain to overcome her emotion. But +when Pedro turned toward Elvira, as she stood wringing her thin hands, +worn to a shadow and bathed in tears--when {794} he pressed to his +paternal heart her whom he had looked upon and loved as a daughter, +all his grief broke forth in the cry: "Daughter! daughter! you and I +loved him!" + +Rita, also, went to Anna's to beg for that which Pedro went to carry. +When she found herself in the presence of the mother-in-law she had +outraged, she fell upon her knees. "I," she exclaimed, beating her +breast, "have been the cause of all! I have not come to ask a +forgiveness I do not deserve, but to beg of you to reprimand without +cursing me." When she turned to Elvira, it was not enough to remain on +her knees, she bent her face to the floor, moaning amidst her sobs. +"Since you are an angel, forgive!" + +Maria supported her prostrate child, and implored Anna with her looks +and tears. Anna and Elvira, without a word of reproach, raised and +embraced her who had done so much to injure them; striving all they +could from that day to reanimate her, for she was the most wretched of +the three, because the guilty one. + +All the people looked with charity upon the woman who had sincerely +and publicly repented, for although the society called cultivated +finds in religious demonstrations another cause for vituperation, +adding to the condemnation of faults which it never forgets the +reproach of hypocrisy upon those who turn to God, the people, more +generous and more just, honor the open evidence of penitence and +humiliation. Therefore, when they saw Rita abase herself and weep, +their indignation was exchanged for compassion, and the _epithet_ +"infamous!" for the pitiful words "poor child!" + +This was because the common people, though they know not what +philanthropy means, know well, because religion teaches them, what is +Christian charity. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +To Perico, the life into which he found himself drawn by necessity, +and by the vigorous influence Diego exercised over him, was one of +misery; Diego also had been drawn into a life of crime by a terrible +misfortune; but having entered, he adopted it as a warrior does his +iron armor, without heeding either its hardness or its oppressive +weight. Perico followed his wicked companions while he detested them. +He was like the silver fish of some peaceful inland lake which, caught +by some fatal current, is carried away into the bitter and restless +waters of the sea, where it agonizes without the power to escape. At +times, when a crime was committed under his eyes, he wished in his +desperation to end his torments at once, by giving himself up to +justice; but shame, and want of energy to overcome it, held him back. +The others hated him, and surnamed him "The Sad," but he was sustained +by Diego's powerful protection. Diego felt attracted toward the man +whose life he had saved, and who was, he felt, good and honest. For +the rough and austere Diego was of a strong and noble nature that had +not yet descended to the lowest grade of evil, which is hatred of the +good. + +In one of their raids, when the band had approached Tas Yentas, near +Alocaz, a spy arrived in breathless haste from Utrera, telling them +that a company of mountain soldiery had just left the latter place in +the direction of Tas Yentas, informed of their whereabouts by some +travellers they had lately pillaged. + +They made haste to take refuge in an olive grove, but had hardly +entered it when they were surprised by a troop of cavalry. A deadly +contest then commenced, sustained by these men, who were fighting for +their lives with terrible bravery. + +{795} + +"Perico," said Diego, "now or never is the occasion to prove that you +do not eat your bread without earning it. This is a fair fight. At +them, if you are a man!" + +On hearing these words, Perico, confused, and like a drunken man, +threw himself in the way of the balls, firing upon the poor +soldiers--men who were sacrificing everything for the good of society, +which, in its egotism, does not even thank them; for it happens to +them as to the confessors and doctors, who are laughed at in health, +and anxiously called upon when there is any danger. One of the bandits +was killed, two of the soldiers wounded, and a ball of Perico's, fired +at a great distance, killed the commander of the troop. The +consternation which followed this catastrophe gave the robbers an +opportunity to escape. They fled beyond Utrera, passed through the +haciendas of La Chaparra and Jesus-Maria, and arrived exhausted at +nightfall in Valobrega. This valley, not far from Alcalá is surrounded +by ridges and olive slopes. In the most retired part of it, on the +margin of a brook, are still standing the ruins of a Moorish castle +called Marchenilla. Men and horses threw themselves upon the turf at +the base of these solitary ruins. They quenched their thirst in the +brook, and when night set, in lighted a fire, and all except Diego and +Perico lay down to sleep. + +"An evil day, Corso," said Diego, caressing his horse, which lowered +and then lifted his beautiful head as if to assent to his master's +words, and say to him, "What matter since I have saved you?" + +"I treat thee shamefully, my son," continued the chief, who loved his +horse the more fondly because he loved no other creature. The horse, +as if he had understood, neighed gaily, and, rising on his hind feet, +balanced himself, and then dropped down upon all four beside his +master, presenting his head to be caressed. + +"What will become of thee if l am taken?" said the robber, leaning his +head against the neck of the animal, which now stood motionless. + +"Truly," said Diego, seating himself by the fire in front of Perico, +"it is to you we owe our escape to-day with so little loss." + +"To me?" asked Perico surprised. + +"Yes," answered the captain; "the troop was commanded by a brave +officer, who knew the country, and did not mean child's play. The son +of the Countess of Villaoran. He would have given us work if you had +not killed him." + +"God have mercy on me!" exclaimed Perico, springing to his feet and +raising his clasped hands to heaven. "What are you saying? The son of +the countess was there, and I killed him?" + +"What shocks you?" replied Diego. + +"Perhaps you thought we were firing sugar-plums? Heavens!" he added +impatiently, "you exasperate me! One would take you for a travelling +player, with all your attitudes and extravagances. By all that's +sacred, the convict is right. You missed your vocation; instead of +choosing a life of freedom you should have turned friar. Come! keep +watch," he added, wrapping himself in his mantle, and lying down with +a stone under his head and his carbine between his knees. + +His words were lost upon Perico. The unhappy man tore his hair and +cursed himself in his despair. He had killed the son of the mistress +and benefactress of his uncles, his own companion of childhood. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +How vividly, during that gloomy night did the tranquil scenes of his +lost domestic happiness present themselves to Perico! And for what had +he exchanged them? His present frightful existence. All around him was +motionless. He saw in the sad monotony of the night the changeless +monotony of his misery; in the fire {796} burning before him, his +consuming conscience; and in the cold and impenetrable obscurity +beyond, his dark and cheerless future. + +"Power of God!" he cried, "can I see and remember, and feel all this, +and yet live?" + +The red and wavering flame threw from time to time a glare of light +across the strange wild forms of the ruins, presently leaving them in +deep shadow, appearing to take refuge within, as a dying memory +flashes up and then buries itself in the oblivion of the past. He +heard his own breathing exaggerated by the silence, he saw horrible +shapes in the obscurity. Fingers threatened him--eyes glared at +him--reproachful voices accused him. And no, he was not mistaken, by +the clearer light of the flames, now blown by the wind, he saw, beyond +a remnant of wall, a pair of hard black eyes fixed upon him. Startled, +and doubtful between the imaginary and the real, Perico did not know +whether he ought to put himself under the protection of heaven, by +making the sign of the cross, or to call for earthly help by giving +the signal of alarm. + +Before he could act, there came from behind the stone ruin a ruin of +humanity; from behind the degradation of time, a wreck of human +degradation--an old, filthy, and disgusting gipsy woman. The tint of +the brown woollen skirts which covered her fleshless limbs blended +with that of the ruin; she wore about her neck a kerchief, and over +her faded locks a black cloth mantilla. + +Perico was struck motionless as a stone, or as if the repulsive face +had been that of the Medusa. + +"Don't be uneasy," said the vision, approaching, "there is nothing to +be afraid of. I have not come with bad motive, and you need not be on +the watch. I knew that you were here, and have caused it to be rumored +that you were making your way in the direction of the Sierra de Ronda, +and that people had seen you near Espera and Villa-Martin." + +"But why have you come here?" exclaimed Perico, instinctively alarmed +at the aspect of the woman. + +"To put you in the way of securing, at a stroke, a fortune that will +last you your lifetime," she replied. + +"That which you are likely to offer does not inspire much confidence," +said Perico. + +"Why should I wish to harm you?" said the gipsy; "and as to my looks, +a poor cloak may cover a hail companion. I bring a treasure to your +very hands; you have only to extend them." + +"A treasure," said Perico, in whom the word, instead of exciting +covetousness, only suggested the idea that the woman was mad, "a +treasure, and where is it?" + +The old wretch, who saw in the question only what she expected to +find, avidity and thirst for gold, approached Perico as if she feared +the breath of night might intercept her words, and the anathemas of +heaven dissolve them in the air, and whispered in his ear, "In the +church." + +Perico, utterly shocked, gave a step backward, but recovering himself, +rushed upon the woman like a tiger, and pushing her with all his +might, exclaimed, "Go!" + +"I will not go," she said, unintimidated; "I came to speak with the +captain and the convict, and I will speak with them." + +In his anguish lest she should do it, and to force her to go, Perico +drew a dagger and flashed its shining blade in the firelight. The +gipsy shrieked and the robbers woke. + +"What is this?" shouted Diego; "what has happened? Perico, are you +going to kill a woman?" + +"No, no, I do not want to kill her, only to drive her away." + +"And because," said the old woman, "I have come so far, through danger +and fatigue, to put you in a way to leave this slavish life you are +leading, like the Blond of Espera, who committed one robbery so great +that he had enough to go beyond the seas and pass the rest of his days +in comfort." + +{797} + +The robbers grouped themselves around her; the convict presenting her +with a fragment of the wall as a seat. + +"Do not listen! do not listen!" cried Perico, beside himself; "she +purposes a sacrilege!" + +"Sir," said the convict to Diego, "oblige that agonizing priest to +hold his tongue, he is like the dog in the manger. Let this good woman +speak, and we shall know what she has to say--a regiment of horse +couldn't silence that dismal screech-owl." + +Diego hesitated, but finally turned toward the hag, and Perico, +knowing then that hope was lost, for the bandit always followed his +first impulses, rushed away, running hither and thither among the +olives like a madman. + +The gipsy had calculated everything, and her measures were well taken. +The great advantages so exaggerated, the difficulties so easily +overcome, the well-arranged precautions, upon which she amplified so +largely, produced their effect. The temptation which offers flowers +with one hand and with the other hides the thorns, convinced some and +seduced others. + +All the plans were settled, and the hours and signals agreed upon, and +before the cocks, day's faithful sentinels, announced his coming, the +band was on its way to the solitary hacienda of "El Cuervo," and the +old witch crawling like a cunning and venomous snake to her den in the +wood of Alcalá, where in the depths of the earth she had conceived the +crime to which amidst darkness and ruins she had persuaded +evil-doers--the crime which was to be perpetrated in the temple of +God. + + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +Heavily passed the hours of the succeeding day to the idle guests of +El Cuervo. All Perico's representations and prayers had failed to +dissuade Diego from his impious design. Diego would never turn back; +and this stupid tenacity in pursuing a course which he knew to be +wrong, had cost him respect and honor, and was still to cost him +liberty and life. It had, moreover, at the instigation of the convict, +forced Perico, who had at last resolved to leave the band, to +accompany it on this atrocious expedition--that vile man suggesting to +Diego that there was no other means of preventing the _saint_ from +denouncing them. + +All mounted and at midnight reached the ruined castle of Alcalá. Diego +whistled three times. Directly after, the gipsy, holding a dark +lantern, emerged from one of the vaults which open at the base of the +castle. They dismounted and followed her. + +Perico would have escaped by flight from the evil pass in which he +found himself, but his companions surrounded him and dragged him with +them whither the woman led. She, after saluting the robbers in a +fawning voice, opened with a picklock the door of a rude court filled +with rubbish and timbers. From the court a postern leads into the +vestry, and through this the sacrilegious band entered the church, not +without dread and trembling even at the sound of their own footsteps. + +What a sublime and tremendous spectacle--a deserted temple in the dead +of night! Under its influence even the purest and most pious souls +sink in profound awe and devotion; and no amount of incredulity is +sufficient to sustain the heart of him who presumes to violate it. + +How immense appeared those shadowy naves! How far above them the +corbels, which, upheld by giants of stone, seemed almost lost in the +mysterious gloom of a sky without stars! There in a deep and lonesome +niche, stretched prostrate and mute, slept a cold effigy upon a +sepulchre. Its outlines were hardly discernible, but the very +obscurity seemed to lend them motion. + +{798} + +The high altar, still perfumed with the flowers and incense of the +morning, gleamed through the darkness. The altar, centre of faith, +throne of charity, refuge of hope, shelter of the defenceless, +exhaustless source of consolations, attracting all eyes, all steps, +all hearts. Before the tabernacle burned the lamp, solitary guardian +of the _sacrarium_--burned only to light it, for light is the +knowledge of God. + +Holy and mysterious lamp--continual holocaust--aflame, tranquil like +hope--silent, like reverence--ardent, like charity--and enduring like +eternal mercy. The gleams and reflections of this light caught and +relieved the prominent points of the carvings and mouldings of the +gilded altarpiece, giving them the look of eyes keeping religious +watch. There was nothing to distract the mind, the perfect fixedness, +the unbroken stillness, effected as it were a suspension of life, +which was not sleep--which was not death, but the peacefulness of the +one and the deep solemnity of the other. + +Such was the interior of the church of Alcalá when the spoilers +entered, lighted by the gipsy's lantern and dragging with them, by +main force, the unfortunate Perico. + +"Let him go, and lock that door," said Diego. + +"He will shout and betray us," said the others. + +"Let him go, I say," retorted the captain. "What can he do?" + +"He can shriek," answered Leon, who, assisted by the gipsy, was +stripping the high altar of the silver furniture which adorned it. + +"Guard him, then," said the captain. Two of the men approached Perico. + +"Off with your hats, for you are in God's house,"' he cried. + +"Gag him," commanded the captain, Resistance was useless. They +instantly stopped his mouth with a handkerchief. + +But notwithstanding the handkerchief, which suffocated him, when +Perico saw that Leon and the gipsy were breaking open the sacrarium he +made one desperate effort, and falling on his knees shouted, +"Sacrilege! Sacrilege!!!" Terrible was the voice that resounded in the +chapels, that echoed like thunder along the vaults, that awakened the +grand and sonorous instrument which on other occasions accompanies the +imposing _De profundis_ and the glorious _Te Deum_, and died away in +its metal tubes like a doleful wail. It caused a moment of cold terror +to those miserable wretches. Even Diego trembled! + +"Have mercy, Lord, have mercy!" moaned the unhappy Perico. + +"Make haste," said Diego, "the night is becoming clearer, and we may +be seen going out from here." + +In fact, the clouds were breaking away, and a ray of the moon falling +at this moment through a lofty skylight kissed the feet of an image of +our Blessed Lady. + +"Curse the moon!" exclaimed the gipsy; and frightened at seeing each +other by the clear and sudden illumination, they hastened the work of +spoliation. At last they left the church, and the gipsy, when she had +seen them ride away loaded with riches, turned and again hid herself +in the earth. + +Before the sun brightened the _Giralda_ the robbers reached the +outskirts of _Seville_ with their booty, They left their horses in an +olive grove in charge of the convict, and each entered the city by a +different gate, reuniting in an out-of-the-way place which the gipsy +had indicated, where a silver-smith, who was in the secret, received, +weighed, and paid for the valuables. But when they returned to the +place where they had left the convict with the horses, they found it +deserted. + +"That dog has sold us," said one. + +"For what?" said Diego, "when his part, which is likely to be worth +more than his treason, is here." + +"Perhaps he has seen people, and has gone to hide in El Cuervo," said +another. + +They set out in the direction of the hacienda, avoiding roads and +beaten paths, and keeping within the shelter of the trees; but neither +there did they find the convict. + +{799} + +"My poor Corso!" said Diego, and a bitter tear shone for a moment in +his eyes; but instantly recovering himself he said, "We are sold: but, +courage! and let us save ourselves. Down the river; to the frontier; +to Ayamonte; to Portugal. Some day I shall find him, and on that day +he will wish he had never been born!" + +They were leaving, when the gipsy presented herself to claim her share +of the money. All assailed her with questions respecting the +disappearance of the convict; but she knew nothing, and manifested +much uneasiness. + +"You are not safe here, and ought to get away as soon as may be," she +said. "The elder son of the Countess of Villaoran has sworn to avenge +his brother. He has got a troop from the captain-general, and is out +after you. I am afraid he has surprised the convict. As for me I am +going, the ground burns under my feet." + +"Oh! that it would burn you up!" exclaimed one. + +"Oh! that it would swallow you!" exclaimed another. + +The old hag silently disappeared among the olives, like a viper which +crawls away, leaving its venom in the bite it has inflicted. + +"A robbery in the house of God!" said the first. + +"The _sacrarium_ violated!" said the other. + +"Come, hold your tongues!" shouted Diego. "Make the best of what can't +be undone. Let's be off." + +But now they heard the tramp of horses, and Perico, who had been +stationed to watch, came hastily in and informed them that the convict +was coming. His arrival was greeted with shouts of joy. He said that +he had seen a troop of horsemen, and had hidden himself; that in order +to return he had been obliged to make large circuits. "But, now," he +added, "we have no time to lose, they are on our track. Here, captain, +is Corso, I have taken good care of him for you; I know how fond of +him you are." + +Diego joyfully caressed the noble creature vowing within himself never +again to be separated from him. + +They hastened their departure, when, suddenly, before them, behind +them, above their heads, resounded a formidable demand, "Surrender to +the king!" + +They were surrounded by a party of cavalry. Two pistols were pointed +at Diego's breast, and a man held the bridle of his horse. Diego cast +his eyes around him with no feigned composure! Knowing the ability of +the horse, which he had trained to this end, he drew his dagger with +the quickness of light, and cut the hands which held the reins, +pressed his knees strongly against the animal's sides, and, caressing +his neck, cried, "Hey! Corso, save your master!" + +The noble and intelligent creature made one effort, but fell back upon +his haunches powerless. He was hamstrung! + +Diego comprehended the blow, and knew the hand that had dealt it. +Frantic with rage, he sprang to the ground, but the traitor had +disappeared among the troop which crowded the pass. They took Diego, +who made no useless resistance. As they left the defile, the bandit +turned his head, and cast a last look upon the horse, that, always +immovable, followed him with his large liquid eyes. + +The soldiers disarmed the bandits, and tied their arms behind their +backs. "Which is the one?" asked the Count of Villaoran when he saw +them together--"which is the one that killed my brother?" + +The robbers were silent at a look from Diego, who, though a prisoner +and bound, still awed them. + +"Which was it?" asked the count again, in a voice choked with rage. + +"It was I," said Perico. + +The count turned toward the drooping youth, who had not before +attracted his notice; but when he fixed his eyes upon him a cry of +horror escaped his lips. + +{800} + +"You! Perico Alvareda! Iniquity without name! Perversity without +example! Poor Anna! wretched mother that bore you! Unfortunate little +ones! Unhappy Rita! Know, infamous man," continued the count with +vehemence, "that your wife has worked with incessant zeal and activity +to procure your pardon. She was always at the feet of the judges. +Ventura forgave you before he died. Pedro has forgiven you. My poor +brother was the zealous and tireless agent of your friends. He +obtained your pardon of the king. All were anxiously seeking you, and +he more than all the rest, and I--would to God I had never found you!" + +Diego, who saw the immense grief which the coldness and pallor of +death painted upon the changing countenance of Perico, and noticed +that he was tottering, said to the count: + +"Sir, do you see that you are killing him?" + +"I will not anticipate the executioner," answered the count, mounting +his horse. + +"Courage!" murmured Diego in the ear of the sinking Perico. "Look at +us. We are all going to die, and we are all serene." + +They entered Seville amidst the maledictions of the populace, +horrified by their recent crimes. But the indignation with which the +crowd saw the vile traitor who had sold his companions, walking among +them free, was beyond measure. + +This traitor was the convict, who by betraying the others had bought +his own pardon, and obtained the reward promised to the person who +should secure the arrest of the notorious robber Diego, who had so +long laughed at the efforts of his pursuers. + + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +The prison of Seville was at that time badly situated, in a narrow +street in the most central part of the city. It was an ill-looking +structure, scaly and mean; wanting in its style the dignity of legal +authority and the outward respect which humanity owes to misfortune, +even when it is criminal. A few steps from this centre of hardened +wickedness and beastly degradation the street ends in the grand +_plaza_ of _San Francisco_--an irregular oblong area, bounded by those +edifices which make it the most imposing plaza of the famed deanery of +_Andalucia_, On the right are the chapter-houses whose exquisite +architecture renders them in the eyes of both Sevillans and strangers +the finest ornaments of the city. On the left, forming a projecting +angle, stands the regular and severe edifice of the _Audiencia_, the +tribunal to which justice gives all power. Surmounting it, like a +signal of mercy, is its clock--ten minutes too slow; venerable +illegality, which gives ten minutes more of life to the criminal +before striking the cruel hour named for his execution. Thus all the +laws and customs of ancient Spain have the seal of charity. Ten +minutes, to him who is passing tranquilly along the road of life, are +nothing; but to him who is about to die, they are priceless. Upon the +threshold of death, ten minutes may decide his sentence for eternity. +Ten minutes may bring an unhoped-for but possible pardon. But even +though these considerations, spiritual and temporal, did not exist; +though this impressive souvenir of our forefathers were nothing more +than the grant of ten minutes of existence to him who is about to die, +it would still prove that, even to their most severe decrees, our +ancestors knew how to affix the seal of charity. As such it is +recognized by the people, who understand and appreciate it, for it is +one of the customs which they hold in highest reverence. O Spain! what +examples hast thou not given to the world of all that is good and +wise! thou that to-day art asking them of strangers! + +{801} + +On one side of the town-hall, forming a receding angle, is seen the +great convent of San Francisco with its imposing church. The other +fronts form arches that, like stone festoons, adorn the sides of the +plaza. At the end opposite the point first mentioned is an immense +marble fountain, of which the flow of waters is as changeless and +lasting as the material of the basin which receives it. + +One day the plaza of San Francisco and the streets leading to it were +covered with an unusual multitude. What drew them together? Why were +they there? To see a man die--but no, not die; to see a man kill his +brother! To die is solemn, not terrible, when the angel gently closes +the sufferer's weary eyes and gives his soul wings to rise to other +regions. But to see a man killed, by a human hand, in travail of +spirit, in agony of soul, in tortures of pain, is appalling. And yet +men go, and hasten, and crowd each other, to witness the consummation +of legal doom. But it is neither pleasure nor curiosity that attracts +the awe-struck multitude. It is that fatal desire of emotion which +takes possession of the contradictory human heart. This might have +been read in those faces, at once pale, anxious, and horrified. An +indistinct murmur ran through the dense multitude, in the midst of +which rose that pillar of shame and anguish; that usurper of the +mission of death; that foothold of the forsaken, which no one but the +priest treads voluntarily--the fearful scaffold, built at night, by +the melancholy light of lanterns, because the men who raise it are +ashamed to be seen by the light of God's sun and the eyes of their +fellowmen. The crowd shuddered at intervals at the mournful strokes of +the bell of San Francisco, pealing for a being who no longer existed +except to God, for the world had blotted him from the list of the +living. Its notes, now rising to God in supplication for a soul, now +descending to mortals in expressive admonition, forming part of the +overwhelming solemnity which was inhaled with the air and oppressed +the breast, seemed to say, Die, guilty ones die in expiatory sacrifice +for this sinful humanity. Only the pure and limpid fountain continued +its sweet and monotonous song, unconscious as childhood and innocence +of the terrors of the earth. O innocence, emanation of Paradise, still +respired in our corrupted atmosphere by children and those privileged +beings who have, like faith, a bandage upon their eyes, that they may +believe without seeing, and another upon their hearts, that they may +see and not comprehend; who have, like charity, their heart in their +hand, and, like hope, their eyes fixed on heaven, thou art always +surrounded by reverence, love, and admiration, which, as the daughter +of heaven, thou meritest. + +There are two classes of charity: one relieves material sufferings in +a material way, and with money--this is beautiful and liberal, but +easy, and a social obligation. The other is that which relieves moral +anguish, morally. This is sublime and divine. + +Of the latter class, one that has not been sufficiently praised by +society, which finds so many occasions for censure and so few for +eulogy, is the Brotherhood of Charity. And who compose this admirable +congregation? Those, perhaps, who waste so much paper and phraseology +in favor of humanity, philanthropy, and fraternity? No, not one of +them condescends to enter this corporation, which is formed +principally of the aristocracy of those places where it has been +established. The truth is, that between theory and practice, as +between saying and doing, there is a great space. + +In Seville, a short time after the events related in the last chapter, +several gentlemen of distinction were seen passing through the +streets, each holding out a small basket, as he repeated in a grave +voice, "For the unfortunates who are to be put to death." + +{802} + +Diego and his band were assembled in the chapel of the prison, +constantly attended by some of the brotherhood, who, leaving their +homes, their pleasures, and their occupations, came to take part in +this prolonged agony, consoling the last moments of these sinful men; +anticipating their wishes with more attention than those of kings are +anticipated, and pouring balsam into the wound inflicted by the sword +of justice. + +Two of the most zealous and devoted of the brotherhood, the Count of +Cantillana and the Marquis of Greffina, had been to the tribunal, +which is established and remains in session in the jail while the +condemned are being prepared and led to the scaffold, and during the +execution, to ask of it the bodies of those who were to suffer. The +following is the formula adopted by this noble and affecting Catholic +institution: + + "We come, in the name of Joseph and of Nicodemus, to ask leave to + take the body down from the place of punishment." The judge grants + the prayer, and they withdraw. + +Each prisoner was accompanied by his confessor--a blessed staff to +sustain the steps that are turned toward the scaffold. + +When Perico had finished his sacramental confession, he said to the +venerable religious who assisted him: "My name is not known; they call +me 'Perico the Sad;' but, since between earth and heaven nothing is +hidden, my family will, sooner or later, know my fate. Have the +charity, father, to fulfil my last desire, and be yourself the one to +carry the news to my mother. Tell her that I died repentant and +contrite, and not so criminal as I appear. An evil life is a ravine +into which one is drawn by the first crime. That crime which has +weighed and is weighing so heavily upon me, I committed because I +preferred a vain thing which men call honor, and which has sometimes +to be bought with blood, to the precepts of the gospel, which make a +virtue of forbearance and command us to forgive. O father! how +different appear the things of life on the threshold of the tomb! Tell +my poor sister, whose bridegroom I killed, that I commend her to +another and immortal One, who will never deceive her. Tell Pedro that +I know he has forgiven me, as did his son, and that I carry this +consolation to the grave, and my gratitude to God. Tell Rita that I +lived and died loving her, and that, if I had lived, I never would +have reminded her of the past, since she has repented of it. Ask my +mother-in-law, who is so good, to recommend me to God . . . . and my +poor children . . . my orphans . . . . Oh! if it were possible that +they might never know . . . . the fate of their father . . . . who . . . . +blesses them . . ." + +Here his bursting heart found vent in sobs. + +The priest who heard him, convinced of the innocence of his heart, +seeing how he had been surprised into crime by all that exasperates +and blinds the reason of a husband, a brother, and a brave man, and +forced into an evil life by circumstances, necessity, and his natural +want of firmness, felt as one who without means or power to save it +sees a fair vessel dashing to pieces at his feet. + +Rita's constant and energetic movements to discover the whereabouts of +Perico, whose pardon, with the assistance of charitable souls, she had +obtained from the king, brought her, with her mother, that day to +Seville. Attempting to pass the plaza of San Francisco they +encountered the great crowd which had gathered there, and, asking the +cause of the tumult, were shown the scaffold. They would have retired, +but could not for the press behind them. + +One of the condemned is approaching; all burst into exclamations of +pity--"Poor boy! This is the one they call 'Perico the Sad;' they say +that his wife, a good-for-nothing, was the ruin of him." + +Rita's heart beats violently--the criminal passes--she sees--she +recognizes him. A shriek, another such was never uttered, rends the +air--heard in all the market-place. + +{803} + + + +Perico stops: "Father," he says, "it is she! it is Rita!" + +"My son," replies the priest, "think only of God, in whose presence +you are going to appear, contrite, reconciled, and happy, carrying +with you your expiation." + +"Father, if I could only see her before I die?" + +"My son, think of the bitter punishment and of the glorious +illumination you are going to receive from man, who is the instrument +of God in your destiny." Perico wishes to turn "Forward!" orders the +sergeant. + +He mounts the scaffold and kneels to the spiritual father, who with a +calm face, but a heart sorely oppressed, blesses him. He kisses the +crucifix, that other scaffold, upon which the Man-God expiated the +sins of others, still turning his eyes toward the place from which the +voice sounded that pierced his heart; seats himself upon the bench; +the executioner, who stands behind him, places the garrote around his +neck; the priest intones the creed; the executioner turns the screw, +and a simultaneous cry, "Ave Maria purissima!" sounds in the plaza. +With this invocation to the Mother of God, humanity takes leave of the +condemned at the moment that he is separated from it by the hand of +the law. + +The executioner covers the face of the victim with a black cloth, and +the black shadow of the wings of death falls upon the hushed +multitude. + +Some compassionate persons carried Rita away senseless. Her situation +was terrible beyond expression. The convulsions which shook her left +her but few moments of consciousness, and in these moments she gave +way to her despair in a way so frightful that they were obliged to +hold her as if she had been mad. For some days it was impossible to +move her. At length her relatives brought a cart to take her away. +They laid her in it, upon a mattress, but not one of them would +accompany her for shame. Maria went alone with her child, sustaining +her head upon her lap. Rita's long black hair fell around her like a +veil, covering her from the glances of the indiscreet and curious. +"There goes," they said, as they saw her pass, "the wife of the +criminal, who by her indiscretion sent him to the scaffold." But the +oxen did not hasten their deliberate steps. It seemed as if they also +had a mission to fulfil, in prolonging the punishment of reprobation +to her who hid provoked it with so much audacity. Maria went like a +resigned martyr. Her gentle heart had been made as it were elastic, in +order to contain without bursting an immensity of suffering. From time +to time Rita shuddered and broke into lamentations, pressing +convulsively her mother's knees. The latter said nothing, for even she +found no words of consolation for such grief. + +They reached the village as night was coming on. The cart stopped +before their house, and Rita was lifted out. + +She sees a window wide open in her mother-in-law's house; through this +window an unusual light is shining. She breaks away from the arms that +sustain her and rushes to the grating. In the middle of the room which +she inhabited in happy times, stands a bier. Four wax candles throw +their solemn light upon the calm form of Elvira. She is as white as +her shroud; her hands are crossed, and through her right arm passes a +palm branch--emblem consecrated to virginity. Thus in simple grace, +and in the attitude of prayer, lies the pious village maiden. + +In the front part of that melancholy room were still seen the withered +plants which on a happier day had formed the mimic Bethlehem. At the +extremity of the room sits Anna, as pale and motionless as the corpse +itself. On one side of her is Pedro, and on the other the priest who +accompanied Perico to the scaffold. + +{804} + +Years after the events we have related, the Marquis of ---- went to +spend some days at one of the haciendas of Dos-Hermanas. One evening, +when he was returning from the estate of a relative, he noticed as he +passed near an olive-tree that the overseer and the guard who +accompanied him uncovered their heads. He glanced upward, and saw +nailed to the tree a red cross. "Has there been a murder in this quiet +place?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir," answered the guard, "here was killed the handsomest and +bravest youth that ever trod Dos-Hermanas." + +"And the murderer," added the overseer, "was the best and most +honorable young man of the place." + +"But how was that?" questioned the marquis. + +"Through wine and women, sir, the cause of all misfortunes," replied +the guard. + +And as they went along they told the story we have repeated, with all +its circumstances and details. + +"Do any of the family still live in the place?" asked the marquis, +extremely interested in the recital. + +"Uncle Pedro died that year; Perico's wife would have let herself die +of grief, but the priest that assisted her husband persuaded her to +try to live to fulfil the will of God and her husband, by taking care +of her children; but to stay here where every one knew and loved her +husband, she must have had a brazen face indeed; she went with her +mother to the _sierra_, where they had relatives. One who came from +there awhile since, and had seen her, says that she does not look like +the same person. The tears have worn furrows in her cheeks; she is as +thin as the scythe of death, and her health is destroyed. Poor aunt +Anna died only the day before yesterday. She looked like a shadow, and +walked bent as if she were seeking her grave as a bed of rest." + +They had now reached the village, and as they were passing a large +gloomy building, the overseer said, "This is her house." + +The marquis paused a moment, and then entered. An old woman, a +relation of the deceased, lived alone in the sad and empty house, over +which, at that instant, the moon cast a white shroud. + +"How these vines are dying!" said the marquis. + +"They were not so," answered the woman, "when that poor dear child +took care of them. They used to be covered with flowers that +flourished like daughters under the hand of a mother. But she closed +her eyes, never again to open them in this world, the day she heard of +her brother's fate." + +"Oh!" exclaimed the gentleman, "what a pity! this magnificent +orange-tree is dead." + +"Yes; it is older than the world, sir, and was used to a great deal of +petting and care. After poor Anna lost her children, neither she nor +any one else minded it, and it withered." + +"And this dog?" asked the marquis, seeing a dog, old and blind, lying +in one comer. + +"The poor Melampo, from the time he lost his master he grew melancholy +and blind. Anna, before she died, begged me to take care of him; it +was almost the only thing the dear soul spoke of; but there will be no +need; when they took away her corpse he began to howl, and since then +he will not eat." The marquis drew nearer. Melampo was dead. + +------ + +{805} + +From The Month. + +BURIED ALIVE. + + +"It may be asserted without hesitation, that no event is so terribly +well calculated to inspire the supremeness of bodily and mental +distress as is burial before death. The unendurable oppression of the +lungs; the stifling fumes of the damp earth; the clinging to the +death-garments; the rigid embrace of the narrow house; the blackness +of the absolute night; the silence like a sea that overwhelms; the +unseen but palpable presence of the conqueror worm--these things, with +thoughts of the air and grass above, with memory of dear friends who +would fly to save us, if but informed of our fate, and with +consciousness that of this fate they can never be informed; that our +hopeless portion is that of the really dead--these considerations, I +say, carry into the heart which still palpitates a degree of appalling +and intolerable horror from which the most daring imagination must +recoil." [Footnote 187] + + [Footnote 187: E.A. Poe's "Premature Burial."] + +I have chosen this sentence from a writer whose forte is the terrible +and mysterious for my introduction, because it sums up, in a few +expressive words, the thoughts which arise in our minds on hearing or +reading the words "Buried Alive." To avert so fearful a doom from a +fellow-creature would surely be worth any trouble; and yet it is to be +feared that the very horror which the thought inspires causes most of +us to turn aside from it, and to accept the comfortable doctrine that +such things are not done now, whatever may have formerly been the +case. Were this true, I should not feel justified in bringing before +the readers of the "Month" a ghastly subject, which could be +acceptable only to a morbid curiosity; but it is unfortunately but too +certain that persons are now and then buried alive, and that, +therefore, this fate may be possibly our own. The subject is one which +naturally excites more attention abroad; for in England the custom of +keeping deceased relatives above ground for many days after their +death, has long prevailed, and incurs the opposite danger of injuring +the health of the survivors who thus indulge their grief. We believe +no important work has ever been published in this country on the +subject; for Dr. Hawe's pamphlet is not up to the present standard of +medical information, and contains instances of very doubtful +authenticity. The tales of premature interment which can be collected +in conversation, or occasionally noticed in the public journals, are +not very numerous; few of them are circumstantial enough to have any +scientific interest; and some prove the supposed fact by the hair or +nails having grown, and the body having moved when in its coffin-- +things which are well known to happen now and then after death has +undoubtedly taken place, and being therefore no proofs at all. After +examination, I have, then, come to the conclusion that no estimate of +the frequency of premature interment can be obtained. Indeed, the only +statistics which we possess are from Germany, and they are not very +reassuring. In some of the largest towns of that country, mortuary +chambers (in which the dead are placed for some days before burial) +have long been established; and we learn from a report of one in +Berlin, that in the space of only thirty-months ten people, who had +been supposed dead, were there found to be alive, and thus saved from +true death {806} in its most horrible form. But in France and Italy, +especially during the summer months, the dead are buried so very early +that fears are frequently entertained. In France, indeed, the law +prescribes a delay of twenty-four hours after death before interment, +and also requires a certificate of death from an inspector, who in +large towns is usually a physician with no other employment (_le +médecin des morts_;) but so many instances of carelessness and of +incapacity on the part of the country inspectors have been noticed, +that the Chamber of Peers, during Louis Philippe's reign, and lately +the Senate of the Empire, have received many petitions praying for an +inquiry, and for further precautions. To these the answer has +generally been, that the existing law provides sufficient safeguards; +and in this the Senate only followed the prevailing opinion of men of +science in France. + +For, some years ago, Dr. Manni, a professor in the University of Rome, +offered a prize of 15,000 francs, to be given by the French Academy of +Sciences to the author of the best essay on the signs of death and the +means to be taken to prevent premature interment. The prize was +obtained in 1849 by M. Bouchut, an eminent physician in Paris, who, +after a very detailed examination of the question, came to these two +conclusions: first, that when the action of the heart could be no +longer heard by means of the stethoscope, death was certain; and +secondly, that not a single case of interment before death has ever +been clearly and satisfactorily made out: and the learned body, who +awarded the prize to him, entirely assented to these opinions. Since +that time, however, cases have been quoted, by some French doctors of +note, in which the action of the heart could not be detected, and yet +life was in the end restored. Their observations have been summed up +in a pamphlet by M. Jozat. This gave a fresh impulse to the subject; +and on the 27th of February last, M. de Courvol presented a petition +to the Senate of the same tenor as those mentioned above. This would +have received the same answer as they did, and the matter would have +been again shelved, if several of the senators present had not quoted +instances which had fallen under their own observation, and in which +death was escaped only by some happy accident. The most remarkable of +these was narrated by Cardinal Donnet, as having happened to +_himself_; and his story was copied into most English newspapers at +the time. It is, however, so much to the purpose of this paper, that I +make no apology for quoting it in his own words: + + "In 1826, a young priest was suddenly struck down, unconscious, in + the pulpit of a crowded cathedral where he was preaching. The + funeral knell was soon after tolled, and a physician declared him to + be certainly dead, and obtained leave for his burial next day. The + bishop of the cathedral where this event had occurred, had recited + the 'De Profundis' by the side of the bier; the coffin was being + already prepared. Night was approaching; and the young priest, who + heard all these preparations, suffered agonies. He was only + twenty-eight years old, and in perfect health. At last he + distinguished the voice of a friend of his childhood; this caused + him to make a superhuman effort, and produced the wonderful result + of enabling him to speak. The next day he was able to preach again." + +This remarkable account, coming almost from the grave, produced a very +great impression; and, as is not unusual in deliberative assemblies, +the Senate yielded to striking individual cases what it had before +refused to argument, forwarding the petition to the Minister of the +Interior, and so implying that it considered the existing law +insufficient. The plan which finds most favor in France is the +establishment of "mortuary houses," like those in Germany. Although +some of the highest authorities in {807} France are opposed to them, +there can be no doubt, if the statistics quoted above are to be +believed, that they would be the means of saving many lives, +especially in cases where (as in hotels and lodging-houses) the +funeral is now hurried as much as possible. The only precautions which +need be taken in England are of a simple kind, and will be more +evident after the description I shall now proceed to give of the two +diseased states which most nearly simulate death. + +In the first of these, called _catalepsy_, the patient lies immovable +and apparently unconscious; the limbs are rigid and cold; the eyes are +fixed, sometimes remaining open; and the jaw sometimes drops. But the +resemblance to death goes no farther; the face has not a corpse-like +expression; although the limbs are cold, the head continues to be +warm, or is even warmer than when in the usual state; the pupils are +never completely dilated, and are, sometimes at least, contracted by +exposure to light. The pulse and breathing, although slow and +irregular, can always be noticed; and the muscles are so far stiffened +as to keep the limbs, during the whole course of the attack, in the +position (however constrained and inconvenient) in which they chance +to be at the time of seizure, or may be placed in by bystanders during +the fit. This state of the muscular system is a decisive proof that +the case is one of catalepsy. + +Were this rare and curious disease the only cause of error, the +physician called upon to discern in a given case between life and +death would have a comparatively easy task; but there is a still rarer +condition, which gives rise to most of the lamentable mistakes that +are made; the state of _trance_ or _prolonged syncope_, is a far more +perfect counterfeit of death. The patient is motionless, and +apparently unconscious, although he is usually aware of all that is +passing around him; the pulsation of the heart and arteries, and the +breathing gradually diminish in force and frequency, until they become +at last quite imperceptible; the whole surface of the body grows cold; +and all this may last even for many days. How is one in such a +condition known not to be dead? In the first place, it is noticed that +this disease is rare in a previously healthy person; it has been +generally preceded by some cause producing great weakness, (especially +long-continued fevers, great loss of blood, severe mental affliction, +or bodily pain.) It almost invariably, too, occurs suddenly, without +any preparation, and of course without the signs which immediately +precede death. + +Sometimes mere inspection will convince the physician that the person +is still alive. Thus, the face, although fixed, may not have the look +of death; the mouth may be firmly closed, the eye not glazed, and the +pupil not entirely dilated. Supposing, however, that every one of +these signs of life is absent, and that the pulse and breathing are +imperceptible by the ordinary means of observation, careful +examination of the chest with a stethoscope will detect the +heart-sounds, if life be not quite extinct, in almost every case. I +dare not, in view of the cases cited by M. Jozat, say that absence of +the heart-sounds in this state _never_ occurs; but all medical men +will agree with me that it must be exceedingly rare. It also seems to +me probable that, in the cases on which M. Jozat relies, the movements +of the heart were so few and far between that the chest happened to be +ausculted only during the intervals; at any rate, it would of course +be advisable to make frequent and prolonged examinations before +deciding that no sound could be heard. The late Dr. Hope suggested +that the second sound of the heart might be detected, although the +first was quite inaudible; but this is merely theoretical. Again, +although the surface of the body be quite cold, it is probable that a +thermometer introduced far into the mouth would show that some +internal warmth {808} remained in every case of trance. At a variable +time after death the muscles lose their "irritability," (that is, +their power of contracting under galvanic stimulation;) and this +change is speedily followed by another--the stiffness which is noticed +all over the body. It is to be remembered that loss of muscular +irritability, and rigidity of the whole body, may both be noticed and +yet the person be alive; still, if these two symptoms are not present +at first, and only appear soon after supposed death, they will afford +strong presumption that the person is dead; which will be strengthened +if the skin be slightly burned, and yet no bleb forms in consequence. + +Every one, however, of the signs enumerated is open to exceptions; +although, of course, the concurrence of many, or of all, tending in +the same direction, will make death or life almost certain; but the +_only_ absolutely conclusive evidence of death is putrefaction, which +is sometimes much delayed by the previous emaciation of the deceased, +or by cold dry weather, but which sooner or later removes all doubt. +The first indications of decay are in the eyeball, which becomes +flaccid, and in the discoloration of the skin of the trunk; its later +ones are well known to every one. One M. Mangin (who contributed a +notice of this subject to the "Correspondant" for March 25th last, to +which I am indebted for several facts I have mentioned) supposes that +the buzzing, humming noise which is heard over all the body of a +living person would furnish a certain means of distinguishing real +from apparent death. He does not seem to be aware that M. Collongues, +the principal authority for what is called "dynamoscopy," has found +that this noise is absent in some cases of catalepsy and trance, for +which it is proposed as a test. Certain authorities, both in England +and France, have thought that microscopal examination of the blood +would be decisive; but unfortunately irregularity in shape and +indentation of the red disks (on which they would rely) occur +sometimes during life, and are only among the earliest signs of +putrefaction after death. + +These, as far as I know« are the only means which science has hitherto +suggested for distinguishing a living body from a corpse; and we have +seen that none of them, save putrefaction, are invariably certain. In +a doubtful case, therefore, time should always be allowed for this +change to take place, so that the body may be interred in perfect +security. If this is done under the direction of a medical attendant +of ordinary information, relatives and friends may be convinced that +no mistake is possible; and their plain duty is to urge this salutary +delay in the very few cases where it can possibly be required. + +It is particularly important to urge this delay, when necessary, in +the case of persons who have apparently died of some contagious +disease, and who might otherwise have been buried alive. It is indeed, +much to be feared that persons in the collapse stage of cholera have +been sometimes buried as dead; especially (Cardinal Donnet remarks) +when they are attacked in hotels or lodgings, where a death from such +a cause would be particularly prejudicial. + +M. Mangin mentions one such case of a medical student in Paris, who +apparently died of cholera in 1832, and for whose funeral all +preparations were made, when a friend applied moxas to the spine. He +recovered consciousness at once, and survived many years; and there is +something grimly amusing in reading that he told the narrator: "Je me +suis chauffé avec le bois de mon cercueil!" Those, again, who have +read Mr. Maguire's "Life of Father Mathew," will not soon forget his +graphic description of a similar case, in which Father Mathew rescued +a young man from the hospital dead-house during the same epidemic at +Cork, just as he was being wrapped in a tarred sheet and placed in his +coffin. + +{809} + +Poe, in the tale from which I have quoted above, gives an instance of +burial during typhus fever, probably in one of the long periods of +unconsciousness and immobility occasionally occurring in that disease. +The unfortunate man remained in the grave for two days, when his body +was disinterred by the "body-snatchers," for the purpose of enabling +his medical attendants to make a _post-mortem_ examination. A casual +application of the galvanic current revived him, and he was soon after +restored to his friends, alive and in good health. This is said by Poe +to have happened to a Mr. Edward Stapleton, a London solicitor, in +1831. I have been unable to obtain any verification of this marvel, +but give it for what it may be worth. + +It is very remarkable that the state of prolonged syncope, or trance, +can sometimes be produced by a mere effort of the will. One of the +best-described cases is given by St. Augustine. [Footnote 188] It is +that of a priest named Restitutus, who used frequently, in order to +satisfy the curiosity of friends, to make himself totally immovable, +and apparently unconscious, so that he did not feel any pricking, +pinching, or even burning; nor did he appear to breathe at all. He +used afterward to say that "he could hear during the attack what was +said very loud by bystanders, as if from afar." He brought on the +attack "ad imitatas quasi lamentantis cujuslibet voces;" a sentence +which is unfortunately of rather uncertain meaning. Another case is +recorded by Dr. Cheyne, a fashionable Bath physician of the last +century. A patient of his, one Colonel Townsend, in order to convince +Dr. Cheyne's incredulity, one day voluntarily induced this state of +death-like trance "by composing himself as if to sleep." He then +appeared perfectly dead; and neither Dr. Cheyne nor another physician. +Dr. Bayard, nor the apothecary in attendance, could detect any +pulsation at the heart or wrist, or any breathing whatever. They were +just about to give him up for dead, when, at the end of half an hour, +he gradually recovered. + + [Footnote 188: "De Civ. Dei," xiv. cap. 24. ] + +But these performances are quite thrown into the shade by those of +certain fakeers in India. Mr. Braid, in his very interesting +"Observations on Trance, or Human Hybernation," collected several of +these almost incredible tales from British officers, who spoke as +having been themselves eye-witnesses of them in India. In the most +wonderful of them Sir Claude Wade (formerly Resident at the court of +Runjeet Singh) says that he saw a fakeer buried in an underground +vault for six weeks: the body had been twice dug up by Runjeet Singh +during this period, and found in the same position as when first +buried. In another case, Lieutenant Boileau (in his "Narrative of a +Journey in Rajwarra in 1835") relates that he saw a man buried for ten +days in a grave lined with masonry and covered with large slabs of +stone; and the fakeer declared his readiness to be left in the tomb +for a twelvemonth. In all these cases it is said that the body, when +first disinterred, was like a corpse, and no pulse could be detected +at the heart or the wrist; but warmth to the head and friction of the +body soon revived the bold experimenter. Supposing that the watch +(which was carefully kept up during each of these curious interments) +was not eluded by some of the jugglery in which Indians excel, we have +here proofs that the state of trance cannot only be voluntarily +induced, but prolonged over a very long time. + +The rationale of such phenomena is not very difficult to comprehend. +St. Augustine was undoubtedly right when he explained the case that +fell under his own observation by the supposition that some persons +have a remarkable and unusual power of the will over the action of the +heart. Dr. Carpenter suggests that the state of syncope could be kept +up much longer {810} in a vault in a tropical climate, where the body +would not lose too much of its natural heat, than in more temperate +countries; and Mr. Braid compares this condition to the slowness of +respiration and circulation during winter in hybernating animals. But +whatever may be the explanation, I cannot at least be accused of +digression in ending this gloomy paper with an account of men who are +voluntarily buried alive. + +------ + +Translated from Le Correspondant. + +A CELTIC LEGEND.--HERVÉ. + + +TO THE MEMORY OF M. AUGUSTIN THIERRY. + + +BY H. DE LA VILLEMARQUÉ. + + +I was one day walking in the country with a book in my hand. It was in +a district of that land where La Fontaine has said, "fate sends men +when it wishes to make them mad." Fate had not, however, sent me there +in order to make me mad. I found, on the contrary, in the charming +scenes which on all sides presented themselves to my view, and in the +original population which surrounded me, a thousand reasons for not +sharing the sentiment of the morose narrator of fables. A peasant +accosted me in the familiar but at the same time respectful style +habitual to those of that country, and, pointing to my book with his +finger: + +"Is it the Lives of the Saints," he said to me, "'that you are reading +there?" + +A little surprised at this address, which, however, by no means +explained my reading, I remained silent, thinking of this opinion of +the Breton peasants, according to whom the "Lives of the Saints" is +the usual reading of all those who know how to read; and, as my +interlocutor repeated his question, + +"Well, yes," I replied, to humor his thought, "there is sometimes +mention made of the saints in this book." + +"And what one's life are you reading now?" he continued obstinately. + +I mentioned at random the name of some saint, and thought I had +quieted his curiosity, but I had not satisfied his faith. + +"What was he good for?" he asked. + +For an instant I stopped short; what reply to offer to a man who +judged the saints by their practical utility? I turned upon him: "And +your own patron," I replied, "what maladies does he care?" + +"Oh! a great number," he said; "those of men as well as those of +animals. Although during his life he was only a poor blind singer, he +has a beautiful place in paradise, I assure you. The day he entered +heaven the sky was all illuminated." And, accompanying it with +commentaries, he chanted for me the legend of the patron of his +parish. + +I knew it already by Latin and French publications; but I was well +pleased to collect it fresh from the living spring of popular +tradition. By the aid of this later source and of the written record, +I have reconstructed the account about to be read. It presents, if I +do not deceive myself, a somewhat interesting page in the history of +Christian civilization in Armorica, in the sixth century; so judged +the great historian, my teacher and my friend, to whom I dedicate it. +Moral truth shines through all the legend as a light shines through a +veil. [Footnote 189] + + [Footnote 189: The most ancient compilation of this legend, written + six hundred years after the death of Saint Hervé, which is placed on + the 22d June in the year 568, exists in the Imperial Library, in the + portfolio of the "Blanc-Manteaux." No 38, p. 851: the two more + modern are, one of P. Albert le Grand, who has taken for his model + Jacques de Voragine; the other by Dom Lobineau, who has fallen into + the contrary extreme.] + +{811} + +I. + +It was the custom of the Frank kings to have a large number of poets +and musicians at their court; they often had them come from foreign +countries, taking pleasure, mingled with a barbarous pride, in +listening to verses sung in their honor, of which they understood not +a word. Among them were seen Italians, Greeks, and even Britons, who, +uniting their discordant voices with the singers of the German race, +emulated each other in flattering the not critical ears of the +Merovingian princes. Welcomed to their palace, after having been +driven from his own country by the Lombards, the Italian Fortunatus +has preserved for us recollections of these singular concerts at +which, lyre in hand, he performed his part while "the Barbarian," he +says, "added the harp, the Greek the instrument of Homer, and the +Briton the Celtic rote." The rote had the same fate as the lyre; it +sought in Gaul an asylum from the invaders of the British Isle, of +whom it might be said with equal truth as by the Italian poet of the +conquerors of his country, that they did not know the difference +between the gabble of the goose and the song of the swan. The +Merovingian kings piqued themselves on having more taste. + +Among the Britons who took refuge with them, and who continued to play +in Gaul nearly the same part that they played in the dwellings of +their native chiefs, there was a young man, named Hyvarnion. This +name, which signifies just judgment, had been given him in his own +country on the following occasion: He was in a school where he was +only known as the _petit savant_, and had for his teacher one of the +sages of the British nation, both monk and poet, named Kadok, now +known in Armorica as Saint Cado. At the end of the fifth century this +successor of the last Latin rhetors of Albion, instructed the young +islanders in grammar, rhetoric, philosophy, poetry, and music, +mingling, as it appears, with the methods of instruction transmitted +by classic antiquity, the traditions of the ancient Druids. The master +disputed one day with his little scholar after the manner of the +Druids, the subject of debate being: What are the eighteen most +beautiful moral virtues? Kadok indicated eighteen, but he purposely +omitted the principal, wishing to leave to his pupil the pleasure of +finding them out for himself. + +"For my part," said the scholar, "I believe that he possesses the +eighteen virtues _par excellence_, who is strong in trials and in +tribulations; gentle in the midst of suffering; energetic in +execution; modest in glory and in prosperity; humble in conduct; +persistent in good resolutions; firm in toil and in difficulties; +eager for instruction; generous in words, in deeds, and in thoughts; +reconciler of quarrels; gracious in his manners and affable in his +house; on good terms with his neighbors; pure in body and in thought; +just in words and deeds; regular in his manners; but above all, +charitable to the poor and afflicted." + +"Thine the prize!" cried Kadok, "thou hast spoken better than I." + +"Not so," replied the _petit savant_, "not so; I wished to carry it +over thee, and thou hast given a proof of humility; thou art the +wiser, and thine the palm." [Footnote 190] + + [Footnote 190: "Myvyrian archaeology of Wales," iii. p. 45.] + +This just judgment brought good fortune to the young scholar. It +procured for him the fine name by which he was afterward designated, +and under which he is presented to us in the Armorican legends. + +{812} + +Once passed over to the continent, Hyvarnion became henceforth only a +vague remembrance in the minds of the islanders. His countrymen knew +very little of his history, and it may be believed that he would have +been wholly forgotten had not a Cambrian poet consecrated to him three +verses recalling the memorable sayings of the great men of his nation. + +"Hast thou heard," said he, "what sang the _petit savant_ seated at +table with the bards?" + +"The man with a pure heart has a joyous countenance." + +The table which is here mentioned is that of the Frank king +Childebert. Hyvarnion sat there for four years, probably from the year +513 to the year 517. In the midst of the debaucheries and the scandals +of that court he appeared calm and serene in conscience and in +countenance, and like the children in the furnace, he sang. His songs +and his verses rendered him agreeable to the king, says a hagiographer +who charitably claims that the bard "merited the esteem of the king +even more by his virtues than by his talents." Whatever might be the +esteem of the murderer of the sons of Chlodimer for the virtues of the +poet of his court, Childebert showed himself as generous to him as +were the island chiefs to their household minstrels. But not precious +stuffs, nor gold, nor mead, the three gifts most dear to a poet, could +retain in the court of Paris a young man in whose eyes purity of soul +and of body, regularity of manners, and justice were among the most +beautiful of virtues. + +Under pretext of returning to his own country, where a brilliant and +decisive victory of Arthur over the Saxons had restored security, he +asked permission of the king to leave him. He departed loaded with +presents, even carrying, we are assured, a letter to Kon-Mor, or great +chief, who governed Armorica in the name of Childebert, in which the +king ordered that a ship should be placed at the service of the +British bard. + +Hyvarnion had been three days at the court of the Frank officer, and +the ship, which was to conduct him to the British isle was ready to +sail, when three dreams, followed by a meeting which he had probably +made after his arrival in Armorica, prevented his embarkation. A young +girl of the country, as remarkable for her beauty as for her talent +for poetry and music, appeared to him in his sleep. Seated on the +border of a fountain she sang in a voice so sweet that it pierced his +heart. Somewhat troubled on awaking, he drove away the dangerous and +too charming recollection; but the following night, the same young +girl, more beautiful still, if possible, and singing even more sweetly +than before, appeared to him a second time. "Then," says an author, +"he seriously feared that it was some wile or snare of the spirit of +fornication," and the night coming, he prayed the Lord to deliver him +from this dream, if it came not from him. "If on the contrary, it is +thou who dost send it to me," said he, "let me know clearly what it is +thou wouldst that I should do." + +And he sought his bed. But behold! scarcely had he slept than he had a +third dream. He saw a young man surrounded with light, who entered his +room and thus spoke to him: "Fear not to take for your wife her whom +you have seen seated on the border of the fountain, and whom you will +see again. Like you, she is pure and chaste, and God will bless your +love." + +The Frank officer to whom the bard related his dream, wished, without +doubt, to be agreeable to one recommended by the king, and took upon +himself to realize the prophecy. He proposed a hunting party to the +young man, where, he said, he would meet a certain marvellous hare, +called the _silver hare_, but with the secret purpose of contriving a +meeting with the {813} young girl of his dream. His hope was not +deceived. As they entered the forest where lodged the pretended silver +hare, they heard a voice singing in the distance. The young man +trembled and reined up his horse. "I hear," said he, "I hear the voice +singing which I heard last night." + +Without replying to him the royal officer turned himself toward the +part of the forest whence the voice proceeded, and following a +footpath which wound along the side of a stream, they reached a +spring, near to which a young girl was occupied in gathering simples. + +"The young girl sat by the fountain," says a poet. "White was her +dress, and rosy her face. + +"So white her dress, so rosy her face, that she seemed an eglantine +flower blooming in the snow. + +"And she did naught but sing: 'Although I am, alas! but a poor iris on +the banks of the water, they call me its Little Queen. + +"The Lord Count said to the young girl as he approached her, 'I salute +you, _Little Queen of the Fountain_. How gaily thou dost sing, and how +fair thou art! + +"'How fair thou art, and how gaily thou dost sing. What flowers are +those you gather there?' + +"'I am not fair, I sing not gaily, and these are not flowers that I +gather; + +"'These are not flowers that I gather, but different kinds of salutary +plants; + +"'One is good for those who are sad; for the blind, the other is good; +and the third, if I can find it, is that which will cure death.' + +"'Little Queen, I pray thee, give me the first of these plants.' + +"'Save your grace, my Lord, I shall give it only to him whom I shall +marry.' + +"'Thou hast given it! Give it then,' cried the royal officer, 'Thou +hast given it to this young man, who has just come to ask thee in +marriage.'" + +And the _Little Queen of the Fountain_ gave to the bard, in pledge of +her faith, the plant which produces gaiety. [Footnote 191] + + [Footnote 191: The Breton text of the legend of Saint Hervé, in + verse appears in the fifth edition of the _Barsas[??] Breis, Chante + populaires de la Bretagne_.] + +If we may credit the legend, it was even in the same mind that +Rivanone, as she was called, went to the fountain; for she also had a +dream the preceding night, a dream altogether like the bard's. She +herself confessed it, and if she had not avowed it, we could divine +it, "Those who love, have they not dreams?" _An qui amant, ipsi sibi +somnia fingunt?_ Seeing in this a certain proof of the will of heaven, +the Frank count brought the brother of Rivanone, an Armorican chief, +in whose manor the young girl had lived since the death of her father +and mother, and having related to him all that had passed, he demanded +of him his sister in marriage for the favorite of the king. + +Thus was settled this well-assorted union, and the wedding was +celebrated at the court of the Frank count. + +Tradition has described it in a manner almost epic. The small as well +as the great, the poor as well as the rich, were guests at the feast; +churchmen and warriors, magistrates and common people, arrived there +from all sides. Neither wine, nor hydromel, drawn from casks, was +wanting to the guests. Two hundred hogs were immolated, and two +hundred fat bulls, two hundred heifers, and one hundred roebucks, two +hundred buffalos, one hundred black, one hundred white, and their +skins divided among the guests. A hundred robes of white wool were +given to the priests, one hundred collars of gold to the valiant +warriors, and blue mantles without number to the ladies. The poor had +also their part; there was for them a hundred new suits; they could +not receive less at the marriage of a poet who placed duty to them at +the head of the most beautiful virtues. But in order worthily to do +him honor for himself--in order properly to celebrate the union of the +Armorican muse {814} with the genius of the island bards--a hundred +musicians did not seem too many--a hundred musicians who from their +high seats played for fifteen days in the court of the count. In order +to complete this by an act destined to crown the glory of the young +couple, we are assured the king of the bards of the sixth century, the +last of the Druids, the famous Meri, finally celebrated the marriage. + +Be this as it may, in regard to an honor which another popular +tradition appears to claim with more reason for the heroes of another +legend of the same century, the wedding at last at an end, the bride, +accompanied by a numerous suite, was conducted with her husband to the +manor of her brother, and if the Armorican customs of our days already +existed at that epoch, the minstrels at the wedding played on their +way a tender and melancholy air, named the Air of the Evening before +the Festival, which always brought tears to the eyelids of the bride. + +"God console the inconsolable heart, the heart of the girl on her +wedding night." + +It is said that Rivanone shed several tears in the midst of her joy. +Had she not for ever bid adieu to the sweet and simple girlish beliefs +which had surrounded her? to her dear fountain, on the banks of which +her companions the fairies danced at night in white robes, with +flowers in their hair, in honor of the new moon? to those graceful +dances which she herself, perhaps, had led, and to her songs in the +wood? to her salutary plants less brilliant but more useful and more +durable than flowers? to the herb which causes the union of hearts and +produces joy, which, wet in the waters of the fountain by a virgin +hand, she had shaken upon the brow of the man whom she was to take for +her husband? to the golden herb which spreads light, and in opening +the eyes of the body and the mind, opens to the knowledge of things of +the future? finally, had she not renounced the search for the plant +called the _herb of death_, which would be better named the _herb of +life_, because those die not who once have found it? + +But no! "God console the inconsolable heart, the heart of the girl on +her wedding night!" The spring of the fountain will cease not to flow; +the charming apparitions will desert not its borders; there shall be +ever seen there gliding through the night a luminous shadow of which +the moon will be but an imperfect image--the shadow of that immaculate +Virgin whom the Druids seem to have prophesied when they raised an +altar to her under the name of the _Virgin Mother_, and the white +fairies of Armorica less white, less pure than she, bending before +their patroness, will sing _Ave Maria!_ + +No plant shall wither there, not the lemon-plant which produces joy, +for it is at the foot of the cross of Jesus Christ, that it will +spring henceforth; it is to Him it owes its virtue, and shall be +called the _herb of the cross;_ nor _sélago_ which gives light, for it +is from the aureole of the saints that it borrows its rays, and to +discover it, it is necessary to be a saint; nor, more than all, the +herb of life, for he has shown it, he has given it as a legacy to his +disciples, to whom he has said; "I am the life; whosoever believeth in +me shall not die." + +And no more than the living spring which nourishes the herbs by its +side shall be exhausted that which sustains the fruits of the Spirit; +the soul shall not be stifled, it shall be purified; and for a moment +bent under regrets, as a rose under the rain, the Druid muse shall be +transformed and awake a Christian. + +Rivanone so awoke; God had consoled the inconsolable heart, the heart +of the girl on her wedding-night. + + + +{815} + +II. + +God consoles in his own way; he blesses in the same. Three years after +their marriage, Rivanone and Hyvarnion rocked the cradle of a crying +infant whom they endeavored to put asleep with their songs. Now this +infant was blind; and in remembrance of their sorrow they had named +him _Huervé_ or _Hervé_, that is to say, _bitter_ or _bitterness_. + +But, if his mother did not try upon his eyes the better appreciated +virtue of the herb which should cure the blind; if she asked of her +Christian faith surer remedies to give light to her son, she found, at +least, at the foot of the cross, the herb which sweetens bitterness; +and her husband himself without doubt recollected that he had said in +his childhood that one of the most beautiful of virtues is strength in +trials and tribulations. + +Two years afterward this strength was even more necessary by the side +of the cradle of the blind; a single hand rocked that cradle, a single +voice sang there--the other voice sang in heaven. The father had +already found the true plant which gives life. + +With death, misery entered the house of the bard, misery all the more +cruel that it had known only prosperity. It is always in this way that +it comes to those who live by poesy. Happily Providence is a more +charitable neighbor than the ant in the fable. He did not fail the +widow of the poet who had been the friend of the poor and afflicted. +It was not from the palace of the Frank count, henceforth indifferent +to the fortunes of a family his master had forgotten, nor from the +manor of Rivanone's brother, which she charmed no more with her songs, +that assistance came. It came from that cradle, watered with tears, +where slept a poor orphan. It is always from a cradle that God sends +forth salvation. + +"One day the orphan said to his sick mother, clasping her in his +little arms: 'My own dear mother, if you love me, you will let me go +to church; + +"'For here am I full seven years old, and to church I have not yet +been.' + +"'Alas! my dear child, I cannot take you there, when I am ill on my +bed.' + +"'When I am ill of an illness which lasts so long that I shall be +forced to go and beg for alms.' + +"'You shall not go, my mother, to beg for alms; I will go for you, if +you will permit me. + +"'I will go with some one who will lead me, and in going I will sing. + +"'I will sing your beautiful canticles, and all hearts will listen!' + +"And he departed finally to seek bread for his mother who could not +walk. + +"Now, whatever it was, it must have been a hard heart that was not +moved on the way to church; + +"Seeing the little blind child of seven years without other guide than +his little white dog. + +"Hearing him sing, shivering, beaten by the wind and the rain, without +covering on his little feet, and his teeth chattering with cold." + +It was the festival of All Saints, as the legend tells us; the +festival of the Dead follows it, and is prolonged during the second +night of this month which the Bretons call the _Month of the Dead_. +Having feasted the blessed, every one goes to the cemetery to pray at +the tomb of his parents, to fill with holy water the hollow of their +gravestone, or, according to the locality, to make libations of milk. +It is said that on this night the souls from Purgatory fly through the +air as crowded as the grass on the meadow; that they whirl with the +leaves which the wind rolls over the fields, and that their voices +mingle with the sighs of nature in mourning. Then, toward midnight, +these confused voices become more and more distinct, and at each +cottage door is heard this melancholy canticle. + +"In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, +greeting to you, people of this house, we come to you to ask your +prayers. + +{816} + +"Good people, be not surprised that we have come to your door; it is +Jesus who has sent us to wake you if you sleep. + +"If there is yet pity in the world, in the name of God, aid us. + +"Brothers, relatives, friends, in the name of God, hear us; in the +name of God pray, pray; for the children pray not. Those whom we have +nourished have long since forgotten us; those whom we have loved have +left us destitute of pity." + +Bands of mendicant singers, poor souls in trouble, they also, +wanderers like those of the dead, go by woods and graves, to the sound +of funereal bells, lending their voices to the unhappy of the other +world. + +The blind orphan, who, from the bed of his sick mother, went to kneel +on the couch of his dead father, commenced in their company his +apprenticeship as a singer, and if it is believed, as is claimed, that +the _chant des ames_, such as it has come to us, was composed by a +blind singer, under the inspiration of his father, whom he would have +delivered from pain, the blind singer should be Hervé, and the +inspirer Hyvarnion. + +The impression which the sainted child produced on the men of his time +is better founded; it has left traces in the popular imagination which +have been translated into touching narratives: + +"The evening of All Souls, long before the night, the child returned +to his mother, after his circuit. + +"And he was very tired, so tired that he could not hold himself on his +feet--all the route was slippery with ice. + +"So tired that he fell on his mouth, and his mouth vomited blood, +blood with broken teeth." + +Now these broken teeth did not give birth to furious warriors, like +those of the dragon in the fable; they were changed into diamonds +which shone from far in the darkness. + +Such is the language of the tradition. Can we better paint the songs +drawn forth by the sorrow of the son of Hyvarnion, these songs of a +Christian muse which cleared away the shadows no less crowded than +those of the night of All Souls? + +But these shadows were not dissipated instantly; the resistance made +to Christianity by the remains of Armorican paganism is not less +clearly indicated in traditional recollections than by the action and +influence of the little Christian singer. + +As he passed the cross-roads of a village where the inhabitants have +to this day preserved the sobriquet of _paganiz_, that is to say, +heathens, he fell in the midst of a circle of young peasants, who, +interrupting their dance, ran after him, hooting at him, throwing dirt +upon him, and crying: "Where are you going, blind one, blind one! +Where are you going, blind brawler?" + +"I'm going out of this canton, because I must," replied Hervé, "but +cursed be the race that comes from you." And, indeed, the little +mockers, struck by the anathema, returned to the dance, and they must +dance, it is said, to the end of the world, without ever resting or +ever growing, becoming like those dwarfed imps whom the Armoricans +adored, and whose power the Breton peasants still fear. + +Nature herself, that great Celtic divinity, took the side of the imps +against Hervé, while the mother of the saint, in beholding him +preaching the gospel, could say with the church: "How beautiful are +the feet of those who come from the mountains!" "The granite earth on +which he walked, refused to carry him, tearing his naked feet, and no +one," says the complaint, "no one wiped the blood from his wounds, +only his white dog with his tongue, who washed the feet of the saint, +and warmed them with his breath." + +Then, as he had cursed the mocking spirits, the saint cursed also the +stony ground which would arrest his steps, and it was rendered harder +than iron; when, going, according to his promise, into a district +where the rocks were such, the legend assures us, that "iron {817} nor +steel could ever pierce them," that is to say, the inhabitants were +obstinate and incorrigible barbarians, he returned to the saint who +inspired and enlightened him. + +"My mother, for seven or eight years I have gone over this country, +and have gained nothing from these hard and cruel hearts. + +"I would be in some solitary place where I should hear only songs; +where every day, my mother, I should hear only the praises of God." + +"Thou wouldst be a cleric, my son, to be later a priest! God be +praised! How sweet it would be to me to hear you say mass!" + +"It is not, my mother, to be a priest; the priest's state is a great +responsibility, and it frightens my weak spirit; besides the charge of +my own soul I should have the charge of other souls; but I would like +far better to live my life in the depths of the forest with the monks, +and to be instructed how to serve God by those who serve him." + +Rivanone agreed to the wishes of her son; the forest which he chose +for his retirement was inhabited by one of her uncles. Hervé sought +him, while his mother asked an asylum for herself of some pious women +who lived in community in another solitary place, having no +intercourse with the world except with the sick and infirm to whom +they were a providence. + + + +III. + +An ancient Breton ballad represents a magician going over the fields +of Armorica at the dawn of day, accompanied by a black dog. I do not +know what Christian voice addresses him: "Where are you going this +morning with your black dog?" "I go to find the red egg, the red egg +of the sea-serpent, on the edge of the river in the crevice of the +rock." + +Vain search! This egg, a sacred symbol to the ancient priests of Gaul +and other heathen worship, had been crushed with the serpent of the +Druids; the day was about to appear and put to flight the magician, +darkness, and the black dog. When, on the contrary, Hervé put himself, +guided by his white dog, on the way to his uncle's hermitage, the last +shades of night had disappeared, the day had risen, and he was to find +in the Christian school more precious talismans than the egg of the +Druid serpent. + +"Saint Hervé went to the school the sun encircled his brow with a +circle of light, the doves sang along his road, and his white dog +yelped for joy. + +"Arrived at the door of the hermitage, the dog barked louder and +louder, so that the hermit, hearing it, came forth to receive his +niece's child. + +"May God bless the orphan who comes in good faith to my school, who +has sought me to be my clerk; my child, may blessings be on thy +head.'" [Footnote 192] + + [Footnote 192: Same Breton legend of Saint Hervé.] + +This great unde of Hervé was named Gurfoed; like many other hermits he +brought up the children of Armorica. Among the grammarians whom he +made them learn by heart, the ecclesiastical writers indicate +Martianus Capella, the author of the "Noces de Mercure et de la +Philologie," of whom they make a monk, and among the subjects of his +instruction they specially mention poetry and music. Music took a +sufficiently high place in the schools and in the tastes of that age, +as is proved by a synod assembled at Vannes in the middle of the sixth +century, which believed it necessary to call the attention of the +Armorican bishops to that point, and drew up an article on the +necessity of adopting, in the whole province, a uniform chant. +Besides, in introducing it into the Christian ceremonies, and giving +it place even in the choir of the temple, the church has shown the +esteem which she has for this art. Hervé perfected himself in it more +and more; he even became so clever in it, observe the hagiographies, +"that he took the prize from all his fellow-students." + +{818} + +After seven years of study passed at a distance from his mother, he +wished to see her and receive new force and new light from her +counsels. According to some, Gurfoed conducted him to her; according +to the popular legend, she came herself to seek her son. + +And she said on approaching him: + +"I behold a procession of monks advancing, and I hear the voice of my +son; though a thousand were singing, I should know the voice of Hervé; +I behold my son dressed in gray, with a cord of hair for his belt. God +be with you, my son, the clerk!" + +"God be with you, my beloved mother! God is good; the mother is +faithful to her son. Coming from so far to see me, although you could +not walk!" + +"And now that I have come, and I see you, my son, what have you to ask +of me?" + +"I have nothing to ask of you, my mother, but the permission to remain +here to pray to God day and night, that we may meet each other in +paradise." + +"We shall meet in paradise or its surroundings, with the help of God, +my son. When I go there you shall have warning; you shall hear the +song of the angels." + +"In fact," continues the French legend, "the evening of her decease +and the next day, all those that were near saw a brilliant ladder by +the side of her oratory, one end reaching to the skies, by which +angels ascended and descended singing the most melodious motets and +canticles." + +The pious woman-poet, who had given to the church such a saint as +Hervé, well deserved that God's angels should sing, making a festival +for her last hour. + +Hervé, guided by Gurfoed, arrived at the bedside of his dying mother, +in time, if not to see her, (he could never see her except in heaven,) +at least to receive her blessing, and to mingle his canticles with +those of the pious companions of Rivanone, truly angelic choirs. + + +IV. + +After the death of his mother, Hervé returned to the hermitage of his +uncle; but Gurfoed, wishing to live a still more retired life, +abandoned his dwelling, and buried himself in the forest. Aided by +some pious men, who, in order to work and pray under his direction, +had built their cabins by the side of his, the saint continued to hold +the school of his predecessor. This school prospered; and every +evening could be seen a crowd of children coming from it, who +assembled there in the morning from all the manors, as well as from +all the surrounding cottages; a crowd as noisy, says a poet, as a +swarm of bees issuing from the hollow of an oak. The master, being +blind, could not teach them their letters; but he taught them +canticles, maxims in verse, religious and moral aphorisms, without +omitting those precepts of pure civility, so necessary to coarse +natures; and while exercising their memory he cultivated their +understanding and their heart: he polished their rude manners; he +endeavored, finally, to make men of them while bending their restless +natures under the curb of his discipline. Lessons of wisdom were not +clothed in other form in those heroic times; poetry and music, +inseparable from each other, had always been considered by the +ancients as necessary to cultivation, not only on account of the +harmony which they produced, but for utility, instruction, and +civilization of the people. Hervé in taking them for the basis of his +instruction, followed, without doubt, the counsels of Aristotle. It is +said that Orpheus thus civilized people by his songs. Those of Hesiod +have come to us, and present us with valuable examples of that +didactic poetry, the first with all nations. But though we have left +us some poems of Saint Hervé, they are very few in number; the most +were composed rather in his {819} spirit and according to his rules +than by himself. They give him the honor of those aphorisms to which +his name is given, which, at least, have the strong imprint of the +instructive poetry of the monks; they turn upon three of the virtues +which the religions principally endeavored to inculcate in their +Ignorant pupils, idle and independent, as are all barbarians, namely, +the love of instruction, the love of work, and the love of discipline, +elements which are the strength of all civilized society. + +"It is better to instruct a little child than to amass riches for +him." + +Saint Cado, the teacher of Hervé's father, said the same thing in +other terms, "There is no wealth without study;" and he added, "There +is no wisdom without science, no independence without science, no +liberty, no beauty, no nobleness, no victory without science," and, +giving to science its true foundation, he thus terminated his eloquent +enumeration: + +"No science without God." + +The second axiom credited to Saint Hervé is this: "He who is idle in +his youth heaps poverty on the head of his old age." + +The Breton mariners have retained the third maxim of which Saint Hervé +passers as the author: "The words of Hervé are words of wisdom," they +say; "Who yields not to the rudder will yield to the rock." I have +also seen attributed to him a moral song, widely spread in Brittany, +in which, perhaps, there are several couplets of his, but in any case +modernized in language and style. + +"Come to me, my little children, come to me that you may hear a new +song, which I have composed expressly for you. Take the greatest pains +in order that you may retain it entire." + +"When you wake in your bed, offer your heart to the good God, make the +sign of the cross, and say, with faith, hope, and love: + +"'My God, I give you my heart, my body, and my soul. Grant that I may +be an honest man, or that I may die before the time.' + +"When you see a raven flying, remember that the devil is as black as +wicked; when you see a little white dove, remember that your angel is +as gentle as white. + +"Remember that God sees you like the sun in the midst of the sky; +remember that God can make you bloom as the sun makes bloom the wild +roses of the mountains. + +"At night, before going to bed, recite your prayers; do not fail, so +that a white angel will come from heaven to guard you until morning. + +"Behold, dear children, the true means of living as good Christians. +Put my song into practice and yon will lead a holy life." + +Such lessons, where were so effectively found some of the practices +which make a man strong, that is to say, Christians; where there was +so much freshness and grace; where the sun, and the flowers, the birds +and the angels, all the most smiling images were purposely united, +captivated and charmed the young barbarians. I am no longer surprised +if the legend assures us that Hervé tamed the savage beasts; if it +recounts that one day he forced a thief of a fox to bring back, +"without hurting her," his hen which he had carried off, and another +time a robber of a wolf who had eaten up his ass--others say his +dog--to serve and follow him like a spaniel. This new style of spaniel +was seen in a crowd of bas-reliefs held in leash by the saints, and as +elsewhere mothers threatened their children with the wolf, the Breton +Mothers frightened their brats with _Hervé's spaniel._ Orpheus is thus +represented followed by tamed tigers; and another bard, a half pagan, +whom we have seen before accompanied by his black dog, is painted, +running through the woods with a wolf which he calls _his dear +companion. Tu Lupe, care comes_. The poets of the primitive times were +supposed to be in a perpetual union with nature, {820} and to have +reconquered the power, lost since leaving the Garden of Eden, of +making all animals obedient to them. Hervé was considered to be +endowed with the same power; but poetry and music were not the only +form which the Christian gave to his charms. His true magic was +prayer. See how he chanted when he was exposed to the snares or the +ferocity of animals or of men: + +"O God! deign to preserve me from snares, from oppression, from evil, +from the fox, the wolf, and the devil." + +Not more than men and wild beasts, could nature resist the force of +his prayer. Somewhat troubled in his retreat, and above all in his +humility, by the too noisy veneration of the Armorican chiefs, who +sent their sons to him, he plunged into the forest, as had Gurfoed, +seeking the hermitage, and the counsels of his former teacher; but the +grass and fern had effaced the path which led there, and all Hervé's +researches had been in vain, when he came to an opening in the forest +where a moss-covered rock was raised up on four stones; the ruins of a +cabin where the badgers had made their nests, were seen near at hand; +briers, thickets of holly and thorns encumbered the ground. Before +these ruins the saint, struck with a secret presentiment, prostrated +himself, his arms in the form of a cross, and cried three times: "In +the name of God, rock, split; in the name of God, earth, open, if you +hide from me my light." His prayer was scarcely terminated when the +earth trembled, the rocks split, and through the opening came a soft +odor, which revealed to him the sepulchre of him whom he was seeking. + +Such is the popular narrative; but, if it is intended to show his +power over nature, it shows still more his humility. It is exhaled +from this legend, as perfumes from the tomb of him whom he sought as +his light. + +I remember a song in which a kind of Druidess gives the assurance that +she knows a song which can make even the earth tremble: after a +frightful display of magical science, she finishes by saying, that +with the help of her _light_, as she calls her master she is able to +turn the earth in the contrary way. Here it is the pagan pride which +vaunts itself; but a voice from heaven is heard, "If this world is +yours, the other belongs to God!" and the sorceress was confounded. +Hervé, on the contrary, who is humble, and who prays; Hervé, who +speaks, not in his own name, but in the name of God, is heard and +exalted. It is verifying the words of the Gospel: "And the humble +shall be exalted." + +As he advanced in age, the saint continued to realize this promise. We +have up to this moment seen him glorified under the tatters of a +vagabond singer, as well as under the poor robe of an instructor of +little barbarians; we are now to see him as an agriculturist, even +architect, but always all the strongest when he would wish to appear +weakest in the eyes of men, always the greatest when he would wish to +be the lowest. + +The counsels which Hervé had gone to ask of his old teacher, he +received from his bishop, a wise and holy man, who came from Britain +to the country of Léon. The bishop judged him worthy to be a priest, +and wished to confer upon him the ecclesiastical character; but the +hermit, who from childhood had considered himself unworthy of this +great responsibility, persisted in his humble sentiments, and he would +consent to be promoted only to the lowest orders, to those called +minor orders. It is easy to believe that his bishop induced him to +definitely fix his dwelling somewhere with his disciples, and to give +to the Armoricans the example of a sedentary life, of manual labor, +the cultivation of the earth, and building, all things which are at +the foundation of all society, and which the barbarians little liked; +for he went to work to seek a place where he could establish a small +colony. + +{821} + +V. + +About half a century before, another bard also blind, and his hair +whitened by age, journeyed in Armorica from canton to canton, seated +on a small horse from the mountains, which a child led by the bridle. +He sought, like Hervé, a field to cultivate and in which he could +build. Knowing what herbs were produced by good ground, and what herbs +by bad ground, he asked from time to time of his guide: + +"Seest thou the green clover?" + +And always the child replied: + +"I see only the fox-glove blossoms." For at that epoch, Armorica was a +wild country. + +"Well, then, we will go farther," replied the old man. + +And the little horse went on his way. At last the child cried out: + +"Father, I see the clover blooming." + +And he stopped. The old man dismounted, and seating himself on a +stone, in the sun, he sang the songs of labor in the fields, and of +their culture in different seasons. This agricultural bard was +invested with a venerated character by the ancient Bretons. They +regarded him as a pillar of social existence; but his heart, open to +the cultivation of nature, was closed to the love of humanity. With +one of his brethren he said willingly: "I do not plough the earth +without shedding blood on it." He thirsted for the blood of Christian +monks and priests, and he offered it with joy as sacrifice to the +earth. To the wisest lessons in agriculture he added the most +ferocious predictions, "The followers of Christ shall be tracked; they +shall be hunted like wild beasts, they shall die in bands and by +battalions on the mountain. The wheel of the mill grinds fine; the +blood of the monks will serve as water." + +Scarcely sixty years had rolled away, and these same monks whom the +bard cursed as usurpers of the Celtic harp and as stealers of the +children of the Bretons, advanced peaceably over the ruins of a +religion of which he was the last minister, ready to shed blood also, +but their own; ready to perform prodigies, but of intelligence and of +love. Their chief was not on horseback, he walked with bare feet, (he +went always unshod, says his historian,) and having journeyed for a +long time, he spoke thus to his disciples: + +"Know, my brothers, it wearies me to be always running and wandering +in this way; pray to God that he will reveal to us some place in which +we can live to serve him for the rest of our days." + +They all commenced to pray, and behold a voice was heard saying: "Go +even toward the east, and where I shall three times tell thee to rest, +there thou wilt dwell." They commenced then on the road to the east, +and when they had gone very far, having found a field filled with high +green wheat, they sat down in its shade. Now, as he was thus reposing, +a voice was heard which said three times: "Make your dwelling here." +Filled with gratitude, they knelt to thank God, and being thirsty with +the heat and the travel, the saint by his prayers obtained a fresh +fountain. + +But the possession of the land was not easy to obtain from the +avaricious proprietor, whom the French legend charitably calls "an +honest man." Hervé demanded of him, however, only a little corner in +which to erect a small monastery. + +"Bless my soul, bless my soul!" cried the owner, "but my wheat is +still all green, and so if you cut it now it will be lost." + +"No, no," said Saint Hervé, "it shall not be so, for as much wheat as +I cut now so much will I render to you ripe and in the sack at harvest +time." + +{822} + +To this he agreed, and commenced to cut down the wheat, which he tied +in bundles and sheafs and laid apart; and God so favored them, that at +the time of the harvest, these sheafs which had been cut all green, +not only became ripe, but had blossomed and so multiplied that where +there had been one there were now two. The owner of the field seeing +this, gave thanks to God, who had sent these holy men to him, and gave +the whole field to the saint. [Footnote 193] + + [Footnote 193: Albert le Grand.] + +Thus the toil and intelligence of the monks made the earth render +double the ordinary crops, and, conquered by such miracles, the +barbarians, who, moreover, did not lose anything, gave willingly all +that was asked of them. + +The good religious from whom I have borrowed the translation of the +preceding narrative even assures us that the proprietor went so far as +to promise Hervé to build him a beautiful church at his own expense. +This new miracle, however, was only half carried out; for we see +Hervé, once the land had been conceded to him, going to work with his +disciples to procure the wood necessary for the construction of his +church and convent. He made a collection for this end, not only in the +country of Léon, but even in the mountains of Aiez, and in Cornwall, +visiting the manors of the chiefs and the richest monasteries. + +Everywhere, it is said, he was well received, thanks to the benefits +that he spread along his passage, and all the nobles to whom he +applied caused as many oaks to be cut down for him in their forests, +as he desired. It is, however, probable, notwithstanding the +assertions of the legendaries, that he found many but little disposed +to aid in the building of a Christian church, and that all those whom +he visited did not show themselves very eager to cut down the trees, +so venerated in Armorica; for in the following century, a council held +at Nantes near the year 658, attests that no one dared break a branch +or offshoot of one. The legend itself allows us to see imperfectly +some stumbling-blocks which the holy architect found in his way; they +must have torn his feet as cruelly as those which we have seen him +punish by hardening them, in the days when he was a public singer. At +first there was a rude chief who passed near him with a great train of +men, dogs, and horses, without saluting him, even without looking at +him; again there was another who did not believe in his miracles, and +said so out loud at supper before a large company, and in the face of +the saint. At that same banquet, at the commencement of the repast, +while Hervé was singing with the harp to bless the table, a new kind +of adversary, the frogs, commenced also to sing, to defy him, to sing +_their vespers_, as a Breton poet explains it, provoking the laughter +of the guests. At another banquet, a cup-bearer who was a demon in +disguise, one of those who excited to intemperance, to gluttony, to +idleness and noise, to discord and quarrels, wishing to kill him, +served him, together with the other guests, a beverage the effect of +which was to make them cut each other's throats. + +This evil spirit followed the holy architect even to the midst of a +monastery, with the intention of deceiving him more surely. Taking the +form of a monk, he offered his services to help him in building his +church. + +"What is thy name?" Hervé asked of him. + +"I am a master carpenter, sir." + +"Thy name, I tell thee," returned the saint. + +"Sir, I am a mason, locksmith, able to work at any trade." + +"Thy name? For the third time, I command thee in the name of the +living God, to tell thy name." + +"Hu-Kan! Hu-Kan! Hu-Kan!" cried the demon; and he threw himself, head +foremost, from a rock into the sea. + +Thus did the Druid superstitions vanish before Hervé, having for a +moment resisted him, and sought to deceive him under different +disguises. + +{823} + +This Hu-Kan, that is to say, Hu the genius, is no other than the god +_Hu-Kadarn_ of the Cambrian traditions. The devil who incites to +idleness and debauchery is the Celtic divinity corresponding to the +Liber or Bacchus of the Romans. There is in these frogs who chanted +_their vespers_ a recollection of Armorican paganism. "The saint +silenced them as suddenly as if he had cut their throat" says a +hagiographer, adding, "he left voice but to one, who ever since has +continued to croak." + +Now, by a sort of prodigy of tradition, a popular song, entitled the +"Vespers of the Frogs," has come to us; it is the work of the pagan +poets of Armorica, represented in common recitatives under the +grotesque figure of these beastly croakers. It offers a summary of the +Druid doctrines of the fourth century; and it seemed so necessary to +the first Christian missionaries to destroy it, that they made a Latin +and Christian counterpart, as if they would raise the cross in the +face of the heathen pillars. One of these missionaries, Saint Gildas, +was so opposed to the pagan music of his time that he qualified its +croaking with the sweet and gentle music of the children of Christ; +and his disciple Taliésin, the great poet baptized in the sixth +century, hushed at a banquet, as Saint Hervé had done, the infamous +descendants of the priests of the god Bel, who wished to put him to +defiance. + +The sound of Christian music was to be heard from all the vaults of +the church, for the construction of which Saint Hervé had made so many +journeys. Twelve columns of polished wood were erected to hold the low +and arched framework; three large stones formed the altar; the spring +with which he had refreshed his disciples furnished the water +necessary to the sacrifice; the wheat sown by them, the bread for +consecration; and the wines of some richer monastery, more exposed to +the sun, the eucharistic wine; for it was an ancient and touching +custom that those who had vineyards gave wine to those who had not, +and in exchange, the owners of bees furnished wax to those who lacked +it. Hervé, according to his biographers, himself superintended the +workmen, or rather incited the laborers by his words, and sustained +them by his songs. Like another poet of antiquity, he built, with his +songs, not a city for men, but a house for God. + + + +VI. + +The fathers of an Armorican council of the fifth century terminated +their canons by these noble words: "May God, my brethren, preserve for +you your crown." A last flower seemed wanting to that of Hervé. He was +now to obtain it. The poor shoeless child, the poet of the wretched, +the school-teacher of little children, the wandering agriculturist, +the mendicant architect, was to become the equal--what do I say?--the +corrector of bishops and kings. + +At that time there reigned a Kon Mor in Brittany, who had rendered +himself abominable to the men of that country by his tyranny and +cruelties. Unable to endure him, they flocked in great numbers from +all parts of Armorica to their bishop, the blessed Samson; and as he +saw them at his door, silent and with lowered heads, he asked them: + +"What has happened to the country?" + +Then answered the more respectable among them: + +"The men of this land are in great desolation, sir." + +"And why so?" asked Samson. + +"We had a good chief of our own race, and born on our own land, who +governed us by legitimate authority; and now there has come over us a +foreign Kon Mor, a violent man, an enemy to justice, possessed of +great power; he holds us under the most odious oppression; he has +killed our national chief, and dishonored his widow, our queen. He +would hare killed their Sun, had not the poor child taken to flight +and sought refuge in France." + +{824} + +The bishop, moved with pity, promised the deputies that he would aid +them, and seeking a means to re-establish their rightful chief, he +resolved to begin by striking the usurper with the terrible arm of +excommunication. + +He therefore sent letters to all the Armorican bishops to unite with +him in devising some means of frightening the tyrant. The place of +reunion was a high mountain much venerated by the bards and the +people, named the Run-bre, and situated in the heart of the country +governed by the Kon Mor. Although only prelates should have been +present, Hervé was sent there, and even the venerable assembly were +not willing to enter into deliberation until he came, notwithstanding +the opposition of one member of the meeting, less humble and less +patient than the others. This _courtier bishop_, as the legend styles +him, finding that Hervé made them wait a long time, "Is it proper that +men like us," he exclaimed, "should remain here indefinitely on +account of a wretched blind monk?" At this moment, the saint arrived. +His bare feet, his miserable hermit's robe made of goat-skin, in the +midst of the men and horses richly apparelled, belonging to the +prelate of the court, drew perhaps a smile of proud disdain to the +lips of many. Hearing the impious words of which he was the object, +the saint was not irritated, but said gently to the bishop: "My +brother, why reproach me with my blindness? Could not God have made +you blind as well as me? Do you not know well that he makes us as he +pleases, and that we should thank him that he has given us such a +being as he has?" The other bishops, continues the legend, strongly +rebuked this one, and he was not long in feeling the heavy hand of +God; for he immediately fell to the ground, his face covered with +blood, and lost his sight; but the good saint, wishing to render good +for evil to this proud mocker, prayed to God for the unfortunate; and +then, rubbing his eyes with salt and water, restored him his sight; he +gave him understanding also; according to the remark of another +hagiographer, understanding, that light of the soul, obscured by +pride, more precious still and not less difficult to recover than the +light of the body. After this they proceeded to the ceremony of +excommunicating the great chief of the Armoricans. + +Standing on a rock, at the summit of the mountain, a lighted taper in +his hand, and surrounded by the nine bishops of Armorica, each one +holding a blessed taper, the saint pronounced, in the name of all, +according to the formula of the times, these terrible words against +the foreign tyrant: "We in virtue of the authority which we hold from +the Lord, in the name of God the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy +Ghost, do declare the great chief of the Armoricans excommunicated +from the threshold of the holy church of God, and separated from the +society of Christians; that, if he comes not quickly to repentance, we +crush him beneath the weight of an eternal malediction, and condemn +him by an irrevocable anathema. May he be exposed to the anger of the +sovereign Judge, may he be torn from the heritage of God and his +elect, that in this world he may be cut off from the communion of +Christians, and that in the other he may have no part in the kingdom +of God and his saints; but that, bound to the devil and his imps, he +may live devoted to the flames of vengeance, and that he may be the +prey, even in this world, to the tortures of hell. Cursed be he in his +own house, cursed in his fields, cursed in his stomach, cursed be all +things that he possesses, from his dog that howls at his appearance +even to his cock who insults him by his crowing. May he share the lot +of Dathan and Abiron whom hell swallowed alive; the lot of Ananias and +of Sapphira, {825} who lied to the Apostles of the Lord, and were +struck with instant death; the lot of Pilate and Judas, who were +traitors to God; may he have no other sepulchre than have the asses, +and may these tapers which we extinguish be the image of the darkness +to which his soul is condemned. Amen." [Footnote 194] + + [Footnote 194: This formula of excommunication of the sixth century + has been discovered and recently translated by M. Alfred Ramé, in an + article, the "Melanges d'Histoire et d'Archaeologie Bretonne," a + commendable publication.] + +The bishops repeated three times, Amen; and the president of the +synod, having extinguished under his foot the candle which he held in +his hand, all the prelates did the same. But this dying candle, the +image of the extinguished light of the great chief, was not so easily +relighted as that of the haughty prelate. Once the tyrant's head was +under the bare foot of the mendicant monk, tyranny was dishonored and +humanity avenged. + +Hervé does not appear to have long survived this great act of national +and religious justice, in which he performed the greatest part; he +saw, however, the result, and could hail the dawn of a noble reign +which would assure, without the effusion of blood, say the historians, +the death of the usurper. + +Another dawn was rising for the saint. + +It is related that being shut up in the church which he had built, +fasting and praying for three days, separated from his disciples and +his pupils, the heavens opened above his head, and with the heavens +his eyes were opened to contemplate the celestial court. Ravished to +ecstasy, he chanted a Breton canticle, which was later put into +writing, and has received its modern form from the last apostle of the +Armoricans, Michel Le Nobletz. + +"I see heaven opened, heaven my country; I would that I might fly +there as a little white dove! + +"The gates of Paradise are opened to receive me; the saints advance to +meet me. + +"I see, truly I see God the Father, and his blessed Son, and the Holy +Ghost. + +"How beautiful she is, the Holy Virgin, with the twelve stars which +form her crown. + +"Each with his harp in his hand, I see the angels and the archangels, +singing the praises of God. + +"And the virgins of all ages, and the saints of all conditions, and +the holy women, and the widows crowned by God! + +"I see radiant in glory and beauty, my father and my mother; I see my +brothers and my countrymen. + +"Choirs of little angels flying on their light wings, so rosy and so +fair, fly around their heads, as a harmonious swarm of bees, +honey-laden in a field of flowers. + +"O happiness without parallel! the more I contemplate you, the more I +long for you!" + +The heavens did not close again until the canticle was finished, as if +they had taken pleasure in the song of the predestined son of +Hyvarnion and Rivanone, who heard him with smiles and called him to +them. + + + +VII. + +Before the Revolution there was preserved in the treasury of the +Cathedral of Nantes a silver shrine, enriched with precious stones, a +present from an ancient Breton chief. In great judicial cases it was +carried in procession to the judges to receive the solemn vows which +they afterward made upon the book of the Evangelists. A king of France +and a duke of Brittany, after long wars, united under this shrine +their reconciled hands and swore to live in peace. + +At the same time there was seen, in the depths of lower Brittany, in +the sacristy of a little country church, an oaken cradle, with nothing +about it remarkable unless its age. The inhabitants of the parish, +however, venerated it as much as the silver shrine. The mendicant +singers, above all, have {826} for it an especial affection. They love +to touch it with their great musical instruments, their traveller's +goods, their rosaries, their staffs, all that they have which is most +precious. Kneeling before this cradle, they kiss it with respect, and +arriving sad, they depart joyous. + +Now, the silver shrine contained, wrapped in purple and silk, the +relics of Saint Hervé. The oaken cradle was the same in which he slept +to the songs of the bard and his poet-wife, whom God had given him for +father and mother. + +To-day the ducal reliquary is no longer in existence. The metal, +thrice consecrated by sanctity, justice, and royalty, was stolen and +melted down in that sadly memorable epoch when these three things, +trampled under foot, were valued less than a bit of silver. But the +wooden cradle of the humble patron of the singers of Brittany, that +poor worm-eaten cradle, so like his fate on earth, exists still, and +more than one mendicant having respectfully pressed his lips upon it, +as in other times, goes away singing with a clearer voice and a +comforted heart. + +-------- + +From Once a Week. + + + +LOST FOR GOLD. + + + She stood by the hedge where the orchard slopes + Down to the river below; + The trees all white with their autumn hopes + Looked heaps of drifted snow; + + They gleamed like ghosts through the twilight pale. + The shadowy river ran black; + "It's weary waiting," she said, with a wail, + "For them that never come back. + + "The mountain waits there, barren and brown, + Till the yellow furze comes in spring + To crown his brows with a golden crown, + And girdle him like a king. + + The river waits till the summer lays + The white lily on his track; + But it's weary waiting nights and days + For him that never comes back. + + "Ah! the white lead kills in the heat of the fight. + When passions are hot and wild; + But the red gold kills by the fair fire-light + The love of father and child. + + "'Tie twenty years since I heard him say, + When the wild March morn was airy, + Through the drizzly dawn--'I m going away, + To make you a fortune, Mary.' + +{827} + + "Twenty springs, with their long grey days. + When the tide runs up the sand, + And the west wind catches the birds, and lays + Them shrieking far inland. + + "From the sea-wash'd reefs, and the stormy mull, + And the damp weed-tangled caves:-- + Will he ever come back, O wild sea-gull. + Across the green salt waves? + + "Twenty summers with blue flax bells, + And the young green corn on the lea, + That yellows by night in the moon, and swells + By day like a rippling sea. + + "Twenty autumns with reddening leaves, + In their glorious harvest light + Steeping a thousand golden sheaves, + And doubling them all at night. + + "Twenty winters, how long and drear! + With a patter of rain in the street. + And a sound in the last leaves, red and sere; + But never the sound of his feet. + + The ploughmen talk by furrow and ridge, + I hear them day by day; + The horsemen ride down by the narrow bridge, + But never one comes this way. + + And the voice that I long for is wanting ther, + And the face I would die to see, + Since he went away in the wild March air, + Ah! to make a fortune for me. + + "O father dear I but you never thought + Of the fortune you squandered and lost; + Of the duty that never was sold and bought. + And the love beyond all cost. + + "For the vile red dust you gave in thrall + The heart that was God's above; + How could you think that money was all, + When the world was won for love? + + "You sought me wealth in the stranger's land, + Whose veins are veins of gold; + And the fortune God gave was in mine hand, + When yours was in its hold. + + "If I might but look on your face," she says, + "And then let me have or lack; + But it's weary waiting nights and days + For him that never comes back." + +------ + +{828} + + +From The Dublin University Magazine. + +THE SOLUTION OF THE NILE PROBLEM. [Footnote 195] + + [Footnote 195: "The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile, and + Exploration of the Nile Sources." By Samuel White Baker, M.A., + F.R.G.S. London: Macmillan. & Co. 1865.] + + +For some time the complaint of those who have been everywhere, and +seen everything men of travel and of fashion ought to see, has been +that the world is "used-up" for the tourist. Where can he now go for a +fresh sensation? Asia and America remain no more untrodden fields than +Europe; and as for the isles of the farthest sea, rich and idle +"fugitives and vagabonds" have braved as many dangers among savage +tribes as the early missionaries, from impulse no nobler than +restlessness. Whither next shall they direct their strides? Iceland +stood in favor for a year or two; but the cooks are bad there, and the +inhabitants speak Latin. Japan has novelties, but bland Daimios are +not trustworthy. The sightseeker has no relish for being among a +people who, on very slight provocation, may perform upon him a process +akin to their own "happy despatch." In the exhaustion of interest in +mere horizontal locomotion, the Cain-like race we form part of try the +effect of ascension to the highest and hugest cloud-capped peaks; +but Matterhorn accidents have rather brought these +mountains-of-the-(full)-moon performances into disfavour. Pending the +discovery of some new wonder or feat, to occupy many vacant minds and +stir a few energetic ones, and during the crisis of a Continental war, +the migratory section amongst us must bear their misery as best they +can. It may console them to hope that the flying-machine will yet be +perfected, and air-sailing supersede Alpine climbing. Probably it +would be quite as exciting, and it would not tire the limbs. If there +be one geographical problem still left unsolved, it must be to find +the site of that cave of Adullam which has sorely puzzled numbers of +erudite Parliamentarians, one of whom was heard to make answer to a +query regarding its locality that he "never was a geographer." For the +purpose of stimulating the curiosity of the gentleman, and of guiding +him in his search among the lore of school-boy days, we may take from +a book well known a real, and not figurative, description of the Cave +in which shelter was lately found by some forty wayfarers uncertain as +to their route in a difficult country. "Leaving our horses," says an +Adullamite, who long preceded them, "in charge of wild------, and +taking one for a guide, we started for the cave, having a fearful +gorge below, gigantic cliffs above, and the path winding along a shelf +of the rock, narrow enough to make the nervous among us shudder. At +length, from a great rock hanging on the edge of this shelf, we sprang +by a long leap into a low window which opened into the perpendicular +face of the cliff. We were then within the hold of, ------ and creeping +half-doubled through a narrow crevice for a few rods, we stood beneath +the dark vault of the first grand chamber of this mysterious and +oppressive cavern. Our whole collection of lights did little more than +make the damp darkness visible. After groping about as long as we had +time to spare, we returned to the light of day, fully convinced that +with ------ and his lion-hearted followers inside, all the strength +of ------ under ------ could not have forced an entrance." Next to a +search for the celebrated cave, we can {829} imagine no geographical +extravagance equal to one for those Nile Sources that have been the +dream of ancients and moderns. The undertaking possessed an the +attraction of freshness. Your North-west passage is a mere track +through a waste, without the possibility of novelty. What its dangers +and privations, its few monotonous sights and events, were to +half-a-dozen navigators they would be to half-a-dozen more. But in +passing upward to the huge plateau in Central Africa where the Nile +Basin lies, itself again overtopped by the lofty range of the Blue +Mountains, down which giant cascades ceaselessly roll in unwitnessed +splendor, the traveller encounters perils enough, but relieved with a +human interest. The tribes he meets are many and unique in their +habits, strangely unlike each other, within short distances, and +having about them an extraordinary mixture of an incipient +civilization with some of the most depraved of the customs of savage +life. In the journey, too, there is endless variety. The expedition up +the river, with its hunting episodes, its difficulties with mutinous +servants and _seamen_, its devices to appease native cupidity and +circumvent native cunning, and its encounters with those vilest of the +pursuers of commerce, the slave-traders, forms one part of the +interest; and next come inland rides through tangled forest shades, +rude villages of cone-shaped huts, suspicious hordes of naked +barbarians, to whom every new face is that of a plunderer of slaves or +cattle, and "situations" in which it is impossible for the honest +traveller to escape sharp contests with a party of Turkish marauders, +for whose sins against the commandment he would otherwise be held +responsible by the relentless javelin-men of the desert. All this +offers adventure of a genuine description to him who has the love of +it in his disposition; and such a man is Mr. Samuel White Baker. His +impulses are irrepressible: nature made him a traveller. He is the +modern counterpart of those primitive personages, the Columbuses of +the times just succeeding the flood, whose purposeless wanderings into +far space from the spot where the Mesopotamian cradle of mankind was +rocked, peopled lands lying even beyond great seas; men whose feats +were such that the philosophers of five thousand years after can +hardly believe they performed them. If Mr. Baker had been a dweller in +Charran, he would have begged the patriarch Abraham to give him +camels, water-bags, and bushels of corn, and would have set off for +the eastern margin of the globe, and the shores of the loud-sounding +sea. Arrived there, he would have burned a tree hollow, and launched +boldly forth upon the deep, to go whithersoever fortune listed. + +All his life a traveller in the true sense, Mr. Baker last conceived +the idea of securing for "England" the glory of discovering the +sources of the Nile. This bit of patriotic sentiment undoubtedly added +to the zest of the undertaking, to which, as has been said, he was +impelled by instinct. He is a man of resolute will, and to think and +to do are with him simultaneous acts. His preparations were instantly +in progress, and from that moment his motto, come what might, +was--Forward. Part of this perseverance no doubt was due to the +encouragement of Mrs. Baker's presence. That lady is the model +explorer's wife, and we could wish for such a race of women if there +were any problems geographical left to be solved. She set out with Mr. +Baker from Cairo, determined to go through all dangers with him, and +well knowing their nature; and she successfully accomplished the task, +and has returned to share his renown. To a full share of it she is +really entitled; for Mrs. Baker was much more than a companion to her +husband on his wanderings. She assisted him materially, not only +tending him when sick, not only conciliating the natives by her +kindness, but contributing to remove difficulties by wise {830} +counsel, bearing all hardships uncomplainingly, and--rare +virtue!--submitting to her lord's authority when he was warranted in +deciding what was best to be done, or left undone. Mrs. Baker could +also somewhat play the Amazon when occasion required. If she did not +actually take the shield and falchion, and go to the front of the +fight, she spread out the arms, loaded and prepared the weapons, and +rendered brave and effective aid on an occasion when the Discoverer of +the Great Basin of the Nile was likely to have become, if he did not +succeed in intimidating his foes by the parade of his armory, a sweet +morsel for the palate of the Latookas. Mr. Baker speaks with manly +tenderness of his wife, and the picture drawn of her in his incidental +references, will gain for her hosts of friends among his readers. + +The narrative is quiet until he reaches Gondokoro. There, in March, +1863, he met Speke and Grant, who were descending the Nile, having +completed the East African expedition. When there the report reached +him on a certain morning that there were two white men approaching who +had come from the sea. These were the travellers from the Victoria +N'Yanza, the _other_, and smaller, source of the Nile. They had +undoubtedly solved the mystery. Still they had left something for +Baker to do, and candidly declared to him that they had not completed +the actual exploration of the Nile sources. In N. lat. 2° 17' they had +crossed the river which they had tracked from the Victoria Lake; but +it had there (at Karuma Falls) taken an extraordinary bend westward, +and when they met it again it was flowing from the W.S.W. There was +clearly another source, and Kamrasi, King of Unyoro, had informed them +that from the Victoria N'Yanza the Nile flowed westward for several +days' journey, and fell into another lake called the Luta N'Zige, from +which it almost immediately emerged again, and continued its course as +a navigable river to the north. Speke and Grant would have tracked out +this second source had not the tribes in the districts been at the +time at fend, and on such occasions they will not abide the face of a +stranger. Mr. Baker, guided by their hints, set out to complete what +they had begun. + +Gondokoro is a great slave-market--Mr. Baker says "a perfect hell," +"a colony of cut-throats." The Egyptian authorities wink at what goes +on, in consideration of liberal largesses. There were about six +hundred traders there when Mr. Baker visited it, drinking, +quarrelling, and beating their slaves. These ruffians made razzias on +the cattle of the natives, who are a cleanly and rather industrious +race of the picturesque type of savage. Their bodies are tattooed all +over, and an immense cock's feather, rising out of the single tuft of +hair left upon their shaven crowns, gives them rather an imposing +appearance. Their weapons of defence are poisoned arrows, with which +the traders at times make deadly acquaintance. Of course Mr. Baker had +unforeseen difficulties on setting out. What traveller ever started on +an expedition without meeting with his most irritating obstacles at +the threshold? Mr. Baker, however, was an old hand, and it took a good +deal to daunt him. His escort were as troublesome a set of vagabonds +as could have been collected together probably in Africa itself. He +had a mutiny to quell ere many days; and it is at this point we come +to see what sort of man is our explorer. He is a muscular Christian of +the stoutest type. Heavy fell his hand on skulls of sinning +niggers--it was the readiest implement, and down went the offender +under the blow so signally that his fellows saw and trembled. Mr. +Baker was a great "packer." His asses and camels carried a vast amount +of stuff, but so arranged and fitted that no breakdown occurred in the +most trying situations for man and beast. + +{831} + +The Latookas were the first race of savages Mr. Baker encountered. +They are about six feet high, and muscular and well-proportioned. They +have a pleasing cast of countenance, and are in manner very civil. +They are extremely clever blacksmiths, and shape their lances and +bucklers most skilfully. One of the most interesting passages of the +whole book is the author's account of this tribe: + + "Far from being the morose set of savages that I had hitherto seen, + they are excessively merry, and always ready for either a laugh or a + fight. The town of Tarrangotté contained about three thousand + houses, and was not only surrounded by iron-wood palisades, but + every house was individually fortified by a little stockaded + courtyard. The cattle were kept in large kraals in various parts of + the town, and were most carefully attended to, fires being lit every + night to protect them from flies, and high platforms in three tiers + were erected in many places, upon which sentinels watched both day + and night, to give the alarm in case of danger. The cattle are the + wealth of the country, and so rich are the Latookas in oxen, that + ten or twelve thousand head are housed in every large town. . . . + The houses of the Latookas are bell-shaped. The doorway is only two + feet and two inches high, and thus an entrance must be effected on + all-fours. The interior is remarkably clean, but dark, as the + architects have no idea of windows." + +Mr. Baker notices the fact that the circular form of hut is the only +style of architecture adopted among all the tribes of Central Africa, +and also among the Arabs of Upper Egypt; and that although there are +variations in the form of the roof, no tribe has ever yet dreamt of +constructing a window. The Latookas are obliged constantly to watch +for their enemy, a neighboring race of mule-riders, whose cavalry +attacks they can hardly withstand, although of war-like habits, and +accordingly-- + + "The town of Tarrangotté is arranged with several entrances in the + shape of low archways through the palisades: these are closed at + night by large branches of the hooked thorn of the bitter bush, (a + species of mimosa.) The main street is broad, but all others are + studiously arranged to admit only of one cow, single file, between + high stockades. Thus, in the event of an attack, these narrow + passages can be easily defended, and it would be impossible to drive + off their vast herds of cattle unless by the main street. The large + cattle kraals are accordingly arranged in various quarters in + connection with the great road, and the entrance of each kraal is a + small archway in the strong iron-wood fence, sufficiently wide to + admit one ox at a time. Suspended from the arch is a bell, formed of + the shell of the Dolape palm-nut, against which every animal must + strike either its horns or back on entrance. Every tinkle of the + bell announces the passage of an ox into the kraal, and they are + thus counted every evening when brought home from pasture." + +The toilet of the natives is of the simplest, except in one +particular. The Latooka savage is content that his whole body should +be naked, but expends the most elaborate care on his headdress. Every +tribe in this district has a distinct fashion of arranging it, but the +Latookas reduce it to a science. Mr. Baker describes the process and +the result: + + "European ladies would be startled at the fact, that to perfect the + _coiffure_ of a man requires a period of from eight to ten years! + However tedious the operation the result is extraordinary. The + Latookas wear most exquisite helmets, all of which are formed of + their own hair, and are, of course, fixtures. At first sight it + appears incredible; but a minute examination shows the wonderful + perseverance of years in producing what must be highly inconvenient. + The thick crisp wool is woven with fine twine, formed from the bark + of a tree, until it presents a thick network of felt. As the hair + grows through this matted substance it is subjected to the same + process, until, in the course of years, a compact substance is + formed, like a strong felt, about an inch and a half thick, that has + been trained into the shape of a helmet. A strong rim of about two + inches deep is formed by drawing it together with thread, and the + front part of the helmet is protected by a piece of polished copper, + while a piece of the same metal, shaped like the half of a bishop's + mitre, and about a foot in length, forms the crest. The framework of + the helmet being at length completed, it must be perfected by an + arrangement of beads, should the owner of the head be sufficiently + rich to indulge in the coveted distinction. The beads most in + fashion are the red and the blue porcelain, about the size of small + peas. These are sewn on the surface of the felt, and so beautifully + arranged in sections of blue and red, that the entire helmet appears + to be formed of beads, and the handsome crest of polished copper, + surmounted by ostrich plumes, gives a most dignified and martial + appearance to this elaborate head-dress." + +{832} + +With Commoro, chief of the Latookas, Mr. Baker had a religious +conversation. The savage was clever, even subtile. He does not appear, +however to have shaken the faith of the traveller. Probably had Mr. +Baker been a Bishop (Colenso) trained in the theology of the schools, +he might have been driven crazy by this mid-African counterpart of the +famous Zulu. The natives exhume the bones of their dead, and celebrate +a sort of dance round them; and Mr. Baker asked his Latookan friend-- + + "Have you no belief in a future existence after death? Is not some + idea expressed in the act of exhuming the bones after the flesh is + decayed?" + + _Commoro (loq.)_--"Existence after death! How can that be? Can a + dead man get out of his grave unless we dig him out?" + + "Do you think a man is like a beast that dies and is ended?" + + _Commoro._--"Certainly. An ox is stronger than a man, but he dies, + and his bones last longer; they are bigger. A man's bones break + quickly; he is weak." + + "Is not a man superior in sense to an ox? Has he not a mind to + direct his actions?" + + _Commoro._--"Some men are not so clever as an ox. Men must sow corn + to obtain food, but the ox and wild animals can procure it without + sowing." + + "Do you not know that there is a spirit within you more than flesh? + Do you not dream and wander in thought to distant places in your + sleep? Nevertheless, your body rests in one spot. How do you account + for this?" + + _Commoro_ (laughing.)--"Well, how do you account for it?" + +. . . + + "If you have no belief in a future state, why should a man be good? + Why should he not be bad, if he can prosper by wickedness?" + + _Commoro_.--"Most people are bad; if they are strong, they take from + the weak. The good people are all weak; they are good because they are + not strong enough to be bad." + +Extremes meet; there are sages of modern days whose much learning has +brought them up to the intellectual pitch of the savage's materialism. +They might, ingenious as they are, even take a lesson in sophistry +from the Latookan. When driven into a corner by the use of St. Paul's +metaphor, the astute Commoro answered: + + "Exactly so; that I understand. But the original grain does not rise + again; it rots, like the dead man, and is ended. The fruit produced + is not the same grain that was buried, but the _production_ of that + grain. So it is with man. I die, and decay, and am ended; but my + children grow up, like the fruit of the grain. Some men have no + children, and some grains perish without fruit; then all are ended." + +Nevertheless, the Latookans continue to dig out the bones of their +kindred, and to perform a rite around them which is manifestly a +tradition from the time when a belief in the immortality of the soul +existed among them. + +It was impossible for Mr. Baker to reach the Lake toward which he +pressed without appeasing Kamrasi, King of the Unyoros. But to do this +was not easy when his stock of presents was getting low, and his men +were so few and weak as to inspire no barbarian prince with the +slightest fear. Yet, though debilitated with fever, his quinine +exhausted, and Mrs. Baker stricken down in the disease, he pressed on +with an unquenchable zeal--one would almost write worthy of a better +cause. Finally, he was abundantly rewarded. Hurrying on in advance of +his escort he reached at last, ere the sun had risen on what proved +afterward a brilliant day, the summit of the hills that hem the great +valley occupied by the vast Nile Source. There it lay "a sea of +quicksilver" far beneath, stretching boundlessly off to the vast Blue +Mountains which, on the opposite side towered upward from its bosom, +and over whose breasts cascades could be discerned by the telescope +tumbling down in numerous torrents. Standing 1500 feet above the level +of the Lake, Mr. Baker shouted for joy that "England had won the +Sources of the Nile!" and called the gigantic reservoir the Albert +N'Yanza. The Victoria and Albert Lakes, then, are the {833} Nile +Sources. Clambering down the steep--his wife, just recovered from +fever, and intensely weak, leaning upon him--Mr. Baker reached the +shore at length of the great expanse of water, and rushing into it, +drank eagerly, with an enthusiasm almost reaching the ancient Egyptian +point of Nile-worship. + +Mr. Baker describes the Albert Lake as the grand reservoir, and the +Victoria as the Eastern source. + + "The Nile, cleared of its mystery, resolves itself into comparative + simplicity. The actual basin of the Nile is included between about + the 22° and 39° east longitude, and from 3° south to 18° north + latitude. The drainage of that vast area is monopolized by the + Egyptian river. . . The Albert N'Yanza is the great basin of the + Nile: the distinction between it and the Victoria N'Yanza is, that + the Victoria is a reservoir receiving the eastern affluents, and it + becomes the starting-point or the most elevated _source_ at the + point where the river issues from it at the Ripon Falls; the Albert + is a reservoir not only receiving the western and southern affluents + direct from the Blue Mountains, but it also receives the supply from + the Victoria and from the entire equatorial Nile basin. The Nile, as + it issues from the Albert N'Yanza is the entire Nile; prior to its + birth from the Albert Lake it is _not_ the entire Nile." + + ". . . Ptolemy had described the Nile sources as emanating from two + great lakes that received the snows of the mountains in Ethiopia. + There are many ancient maps existing upon which these lakes are + marked as positive. There can be little doubt that trade had been + carried on between the Arabs from the Red Sea and the coast opposite + Zanzitan in ancient times, and that the people engaged in such + enterprises had penetrated so far as to have gained a knowledge of + the existence of the two reservoirs." + +The interest of Mr. Baker's volumes of course culminates with his +account of the Great Lake. He embarked in a canoe of the country, and +with his party in another, navigated it for a long distance, +encountering storms and weathering them with a skill and courage which +show him as cool and experienced a traveller on _sea_ as on land. On +his return overland he was again in perils oft. But the same undying +spirit which supported him through a dozen fevers carried him through +every danger triumphantly. The English nation has reason to be proud +of such men, and of such women as Mrs. Baker still more. Devotion like +hers honors the sex. There is an end, however, of Nile voyaging with +the old object. If the Victoria and Albert Lakes are revisited it will +be in pursuit of other ends than mere geographical inquiry or +curiosity. Mr. Baker seems to think that missionaries may be the first +to follow in the track he has made, and it is a fact that next to +professional explorers (if even second to them) those influenced by +religious zeal have made the most daring expeditions into unknown +regions. Livingstone has done even more in another part of Africa than +Baker did on the great level, which, as he thinks, from its altitude, +escaped being submerged at any previous part of the world's history, +and may contain at this moment the descendants of a pre-Adamite race. +On the ethnology of the central Africans he can throw no light, and +his mere speculations are worthless, but he is doubtless right in +considering that commerce must precede religious propagandism among +those races, if anything is really to be done for their benefit. For +commerce there are large opportunities, if only the abominable +slave-trade, which makes fiends of the natives, were effectually +suppressed. Mr. Baker writes warmly on this point, and none knows +better the character and extent of the evil. A more interesting book +of travel was never written than his Albert N'Yanza: in every page +there is fresh and vivid interest. The author, who is admirable in +many things, is a model narrator, and there is no romance at all equal +in attraction to the simple and unvarnished, but full and picturesque, +account of his protracted and exciting travels. + + +-------- + +{834} + + +Translated from the French. + +THREE WOMEN OF OUR TIME. + +EUGÉNIE DE GUÉRIN--CHARLOTTE BRONTË--RAHEL LEVIN. + +BY GABRIEL CERNY. + + +It is now quite a number of years since it became the fashion to study +women, and writers of note have called to life more than one who would +have preferred being left to oblivion under her cold tombstone. Is it +not enough to have lived once even if we have lived wisely? "No one +would accept an existence that was to last forever," said a +philosopher who had suffered from the injustice of mankind. + +It seems, for example, as if the heroines of the seventeenth century +must smile in pity to see the pettiest actions of their lives as well +as the deepest inspirations of their hearts given up for food to the +indiscreet curiosity and vivid imagination of the eminent philosopher +who had so lovingly resuscitated them. And the intellectual women who +came after them, are not they not often wounded by the judgments +passed upon them by the most inquisitive and fertile of critics? + +In two works entirely devoted to woman, a _fantaisiste_ who was once +an historian, has tried to explain the best means to insure happiness +to the fairer half of the human race, with a minuteness very tender in +intention but often quite repugnant to our taste. He states in detail +the hygienic care indispensable to creatures weak in body, feeble in +mind, and so helpless when left to themselves that in truth there are +but two conditions in the world suitable for them--to be courtesans if +they are beautiful, and maid-servants if they are destitute of +physical charms; nay, such is the arrogance of this literary _Céladon_ +that he would assign to the wife an inferior position and leave the +husband to superintend not only business affairs but household +matters. In short, when we read these books we seem to be attending a +session of the Naturalization Society, teaching the public to rear and +domesticate some valuable animal much to be distrusted. + +Not even the toilettes of the eighteenth century have failed to arouse +the interest of two authors of our day, who, displeased perhaps with +the slight success of their book, have now abandoned the range of +realities for the dreary delusions of a lawless realism. In a work as +long as it is tiresome, they have described with feminine lucidity the +various costumes of the ladies of the court of Louis XV., of the +Revolution, and the Empire. + +A book has now appeared which, according to its title, promises to +show us the "Intellect of Women of our own Time," but in reality +confines itself to giving three interesting biographies. The author +was already known to the public through a romance which reveals true +talent "Daniel Blady," the story of a musician, is written in the +German style, and shows an elevation of sentiment, a straightforward +honesty of principle, and above all a simplicity of devotion rarely to +be met with in the world. M. Camille Selden admires modest women, +incapable of personal ambition or vanity, who consecrate all the +tender and enlivening faculties of soul and reason to the service of a +husband, father, or brother, and such a woman he portrays in "Daniel +Blady." + +{835} + +In order to represent fairly the women of our day M. Selden has +selected three different characters; three names worn modestly, +usefully, and honorably; three contrasts of position, race, doctrine, +and education: a French Catholic, an English Protestant, a German +Jewess: Eugénie de Guérin, Charlotte Brontë, and Rachel Varnhagen von +Ense. They were all affectionate, devoted, and self-forgetful; two of +them married, and the French-woman alone had the happy privilege of +restoring to God a heart and soul that had belonged to no one. + +I. + +Eugénie de Guérin du Cayla was born and bred _en province_, although +of a truly noble family, of Venetian origin it is said. Her mode of +life was that of a woman of the middle class (_bourgeoise_) enjoying +that comparative ease which we see in the country; a large house +scantily furnished, a garden less cultivated than the fields, and +servants of little or no training, who seem to form a part of the +family. + +Mlle. de Guérin lost her mother early, and having two brothers and a +sister younger than herself, became burthened with the care of a +household and family. Her letters and journal show her to us as she +was at twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age, not one of those +persons of morose and frigid virtue who are good for nothing but to +mend linen and take care of birds, but a woman of intelligent and +unembarrassed activity. She made fires, visited the poultry-yard, +prepared breakfast for the reapers, and when her work was done, betook +herself in all haste to a little retreat which she dignified with the +name of _study_, where she ran through some book or wrote a few +pages--always charming, always strong--of a sort of journal of the +actions of her life. Eugénie's especial favorite was her brother +Maurice, who was five years younger than herself, and it would be +impossible to speak of her without recalling the passionate maternal +tenderness with which from her earliest youth she regarded this +brother whom she had loved to rock and nurse in infancy. + +"I remember that you sometimes made me jealous," she wrote to him one +day, "it was because I was a little older than you, and I did not know +that tenderness and caresses, _the hearts milk_, are lavished on the +little ones." + +Devotion was the principle motive-power of Eugénie's actions; ardent +prayer and charity profoundly moved her; wind, snow, rain-storms, +nothing checked her when she knew that in some corner of the village +there were miseries to be relieved, tears to be wiped away. She felt +sympathy with all living creatures, even if they were inanimate like +trees and flowers; she sighed when the wind bowed them down; "she +pitied them, comparing them to unhappy human beings bending beneath +misfortune," and imitating the example of the great saint, Francis of +Assisi, she would gladly have conversed with lambs and turtle-doves. + +Mlle. de Guérin pitied the educated peasants who knew how to read and +yet could not pray. "Prayer to God," she said, "is the only fit manner +to celebrate any thing in this world." And again, "Nothing is easier +than to speak to the neglected ones of this world; they are not like +us, full of tumultuous or perverse thoughts that prevent them from +hearing." + +She loved religion with its festivals and splendors; and breathed in +God with the incense and flowers on the altar, nor could she ever have +understood an invisible, abstract God, a God simply the guardian of +morality as Protestants believe him to be. + +Most women become useful only through some being whom they love and to +whom they refer the actions of their lives; it is their noblest and +most natural instinct to efface and lose themselves in another's +glory. Having no husband or children, Mlle. de Guérin attached herself +to her brother Maurice, a delicate nature, a sad {836} and suffering +soul, destined to self-destruction, a lofty but unquiet spirit that +was never to find on earth the satisfaction and realization of his +hopes. "You are the one of all the family," he wrote to her, "whose +disposition is most in sympathy with my own, so far as I can judge by +the verses that you send me, in all of which there is a gentle +reverie, a tinge of melancholy, in short, which forms, I believe, the +basis of my character." Mlle. de Guérin's letters to her brother were +not only tender and consoling, but strong and healthy in their tone. +Indeed, he needed them, for terrible were his sufferings from the +ill-will and indifference of others. He wrote and tried to establish +himself as a critic; but some publishers rejected him and others +evaded his proposals with vague promises, until with despair he saw +every issue closed to him, and knew not what answer to make to his +father, who grew impatient at the constant failure of his +expectations. + +Though ignorant of the world, Mlle, de Guérin did not the less suspect +the dangers that Christian faith may encounter. One day, a voice that +seemed to come from heaven told her that Maurice no longer prayed; and +then we find her trembling and uneasy. "I have received your letter," +she says, "and I see you in it, but I do not recognize you; for you +only open your mind to me, and it is your heart, your soul, your +inmost being that I long to see. Return to prayer, your soul is full +of love and craves expansion; believe, hope, love, and all the rest +shall be added. If I could only see you a Christian! Oh! I would give +my life and everything else for that." . . . Like all persons who try +to dispense with the divine restraints of the precepts of the gospel, +poor Maurice struggled in a dreary world; his sensitive and poetic +soul saw God everywhere except in his own heart; he longed sometimes +to be a flower, or a bird, or verdure; his brain and imagination ran +away with him, and his soul poured itself forth without restraint, and +lost its way through wandering from the veritable Source of life. + +This passion for nature led him to write a work which shows genuine +power even if it be unproductive; a prose poem in which Christianity +is forgotten for the sake of fable and antiquity. But thanks to his +sister's prayers, Maurice was one of those who return to God. He +passed away without agitation or suffering, smiling on all, and +begging his sister Eugénie to read him some spiritual book. At the +bottom of his heart he had never ceased to love God, and he returned +to him as a little child returns to its mother. + +Eugénie did not give herself up to vain despair after Maurice's death. +Thinking perpetually of him whom she had loved so deeply, she busied +herself with the writings which he had left behind him, and prayed for +his soul, recommending him also to the prayers of her friends. She +still addressed herself to him, and oppressed with sadness unto death, +communed with his absent soul, imploring him to come to her. "Maurice, +my friend, what is heaven, that home of friends? Will you never give +me any sign of life? Shall I never hear you, as the dead are sometimes +said to make themselves heard? Oh! if it be possible, if there exist +any communication between this world and the other, return to me!" + +But one day she grew weary of this unanswered correspondence, and a +moral exhaustion took possession of her. "_Let us cast our hearts into +eternity_," she cried. These were her last words, and she died, glad +to see her life accomplished, confiding in the mercy of God, in his +goodness who reunites the soul which he has severed here below, but +never has forgotten in their bereavement. + + + +{837} + +II. + +Charlotte Brontë, (Currer Bell,) whom M. Camille Selden offers to us +as a type of energy and virtue, was the daughter of a country +clergyman. Sad was the childhood and sad the youth of the poor English +girl. Her mother was an invalid, her father a man of gloomy and almost +fierce disposition, their means were so limited as to border upon +poverty, and as if to complete the dreary picture, the scenery about +the parsonage was "austere and lugubrious to contemplate, like the sea +beneath an impending tempest." + +In England the clerical profession is totally unlike the holy mission +of a Catholic clergyman. The ecclesiastical life there is a career, +not a vocation. "Mr. Brontë never left home unarmed," a singular +method of preaching peace to the world and reconciliation among +brethren. He was a good father, no doubt--almost all Englishmen are +so. But he kept his family at a distance, and spoke to them seldom, +and then in a curt and supercilious manner. His morose spirit did not +relish the society of children, and if he became the preceptor of his +little family, it was rather in order to fulfil a duty and conform +himself to custom, than from a feeling of tenderness or even +solicitude for their future welfare. Thus the minister's children +lived amid influences which were cold and serious, but upright, and in +a certain sense strengthening. There are so many children in every +English family that parents of the middle class are obliged to treat +them less as subordinates than as auxiliaries. The children are less +familiar with their parents but more respectful than among us; life is +not so easy and gentle, education more masculine. + +Independence is the goal toward which all young English people tend, +and both girls and boys are early taught that labor alone can lead +them to it. In France we long impatiently for the time to shut up our +children in the high-walled barracks which we dignify with the name of +boarding-schools; for it is extremely necessary, we say, to be rid of +idle, noisy boys. Girls are generally educated at home, but either +through weakness or indifference, they are treated with far too much +indulgence. "Poor little things!" we say pathetically; "who can tell +what fate awaits them in married life?" for in this country we so far +forget Christian duty as to make marriage a necessity, an obligation, +a matter of business, instead of seeking therein, as the English do, a +basis of true happiness. + +Children, educated as they are in England, early acquire habits of +observation and reflection; sitting around the tea-table in the +evening, they listen to the conversation of their grandparents, and +are often questioned upon the most serious subjects. This is +Protestantism, you say. Not at all: it is the remains of the Christian +spirit anterior to the Reformation. This spirit is exhibited in habits +as in laws. If family life among us were truly catholic, we should +possess all this and in greater perfection. + +There is another practice in England which is often beneficial, and +which we do not dare to adopt openly in France. I mean the habit of +writing out one's impressions. This seems to be as natural in England +as thought; and mothers, young girls, and men consider it a duty to +keep an account of the good ideas that occur to them or of the +interesting facts they may observe. + +In France, on the contrary, true literary culture is closed to women, +and there is a general outcry whenever any woman takes the liberty of +publishing a work under her own name. It is thought quite natural that +a young girl, with a dress outrageously _decolletée_ and her head +covered with flowers, should appear upon a stage and sing a _bravura_; +but let her venture to write, and the world accuses her of want of +reserve. + +A Frenchman has such a horror of anything methodical and serious that +he prefers to educate his daughters without thought or reflection, at +hap-hazard and with no provision for {838} the future. Frenchwomen +understand everything without study, it is said; this may be true, and +the merit is not so great as to make it worth while to deny the +assertion. What a superficial method! what an incredible way to +acquire knowledge and judgment! + +Englishwomen on the contrary, devote themselves to a regular course of +instruction; they read a great deal, making extracts and critical +notes, and thus avoid idleness and _ennui_, those two terrible +diseases that affect womankind. Unfortunately abuses glide into their +reading, and novels or even newspapers hold a place there which they +ought not to occupy. This is a fruit of Protestantism, of free +inquiry, and if our faith were firm and practical, we should know how +to avoid the abuse and accept the useful side of this custom. + +But there is again a situation which Englishwomen meet with a better +grace than Frenchwomen--we mean the _misfortune_ of remaining +unmarried at twenty-eight or thirty years of age--of becoming _old +maids_. With us, as soon as a daughter comes into the world we begin +to think of amassing her dower; for it is the value of this dower +which is to secure a good or bad marriage for her. We persuade her +that it is almost a disgrace to remain unmarried, but by a tacit +agreement we conceal from her the fact that marriage, as the Church +instituted it, is the union of two souls equal in the sight of God, +and that in giving her hand to a man, she becomes half of himself and +flesh of his flesh. No, it is not a question of heart or of duty; she +marries a man whom she has known scarcely two months, and her family +triumphantly congratulate themselves on being freed from the +unpleasant possibility of harboring _an old maid_. To avoid this, some +marriages are a mere _sale_, a present shame, a future misery, and a +final sin. + +As in England daughters have no dower, and sons are valued much more +highly, young women are early prepared not to marry, and are neither +sadder nor more unfortunate on that account. Care of the little ones +in the family; that pleasant occupation belonging by right to maiden +aunts, (_tantes berceuses,_) study, attentive observation of men and +things, and the consciousness of intellectual worth, sustain the +Englishwomen until the moment, often distant, and never to arrive for +many a one, when a good, sincere, and intelligent man shall unite her +lot to his; but as she has self-respect and does not consider loss of +youth as loss of caste, she does not accept the suitor unless she +knows him well and is certain that he does not wish to take her or buy +her _pour faire une fin_. + +Charlotte, like Eugénie and like Rahel, of whom we shall speak in her +turn, was rather insignificant in appearance; her features were +irregular, her forehead prominent, and her eyes small but deep and +piercing in expression. She was educated with two of her sisters in a +boarding-school, where the regimen was hard and unhealthy, the uniform +coarse, and the food insufficient and ill cooked. Mr. Brontë turned a +deaf ear to his eldest daughter's complaints for a long time, and did +not decide to take his children home until one of them had already +sunk under the injudicious treatment. Charlotte was then placed with +Miss W----, with whom she lived eight years as pupil and second +teacher. And here M. Camille Selden gives us some excellent remarks +upon the difference existing between the French lay _pension_ with its +supplementary course, and the English boarding-school. + +"In the former, as in a well-disciplined army, every movement, every +manoeuvre must be executed in union, even the recess is subject to +rules. In the midst of her battalion of teachers and sub-mistresses, +the French directress, _en grande tenue_, resembles a brilliant +colonel marching proudly at the head of his squadron in a review." + +{839} + +"The object of education in England is at once simpler and gentler. It +is thought there to be the duty of a woman, as of a man, to develop +the judgment by study; that reflection and observation are equally +necessary to teach both sexes how to live wisely and think justly. +Therefore we never hear of courses of study where under the pretext of +maternal education, gentlemen in black coats give out _bribes_ for +history, geography--nay, even philosophy, to little girls who come +there apparently to study under maternal supervision, but in reality +to learn to receive company and dress tastefully; in one word, to +rehearse the worldly comedy which a little later they will be +condemned to enact." + +The author should have completed his picture by giving an exact +account of our houses of religious education; but I think he knows +little about them, and cares little to get information concerning +them, which accounts for certain wants in his book. + +Poor Charlotte Brontë was never young, partly because of her childish +sufferings, but chiefly because of her serious and inquiring nature, +which applied its powers to investigating and analyzing the sources of +everything. She did not indulge in the childish ideas of a school +girl, and being free from the dangerous enthusiasm that imagination +engenders, she understood the full extent of human misery without +exaggerating it, and if she was deprived of illusions at least she was +spared disappointment. And yet she suffered; her vigorous soul, her +fertile intellect imprisoned in this common-place situation, were +stifled as in a cage; and to complete her misery came religious +terrors, frightful visions of "failing grace and impossible +salvation," until her awe-struck heart recoiled in affright. + +Like all souls ardently loving goodness and thirsting from the true +love, she sighed after the bliss of heaven: "I would be willing," she +exclaimed, "I would be willing to exchange my eighteen years for gray +hairs--or even to stand on the verge of the grave, if by that means I +could be assured of the divine mercy;" but alas! in the practices of +that dry and personal religion in which each one answers to himself +for himself, and whence confidence is banished as a weakness, where +should she look for help? + +Meanwhile the circle of poverty was drawing closer and closer about +Charlotte and her sisters, and a thousand thoughts sprang up in the +brain of the courageous girl: "I wish to make money, no matter how--if +only the means be honest! nothing would discourage me," said she; "but +I should not care to be a cook--I should prefer being housemaid." In +the evening, when every one else was in bed, she used to meet her +sisters in the little parlor, and they would read to each other their +literary efforts in a low voice. They decided with one accord that +Charlotte must write to Southey and send him a book of her poems. The +poet saw no great merit in these effusions and tried to discourage +Charlotte, giving her at the same time excellent moral advice upon the +nothingness of celebrity and the dangers of ambition. + +She decided then to make a journey to Belgium in order to study +French, but she was almost immediately recalled home. The old aunt who +had kept house during her absence was dead, her father was becoming +blind, and her brother was subject to attacks of delirium in which he +threatened his father's life. It was amid these terrible calamities +that Miss Brontë wrote "Jane Eyre," the most powerful of her novels. + +The next plan was that she and her sisters should all write together +and get a volume printed at their own expense under the names of +Ellis, Acton, and Currer Bell. It may well be imagined that this +unfortunate book, sent out like a foundling into the literary world, +met with no success, for if the beginnings of any career are +precarious, the obstacles presented by literature are insurmountable +to any one {840} not possessed of immense energy. We know Charlotte +well enough to feel sure that she was not a woman to waste away in the +dejection of sterile discouragement; she began to write again, and +composed "The Professor." Alas! the poor little book travelled about +from publisher to publisher without finding rest anywhere; and such +was the naïveté of its author, that in her eagerness to send her +rejected book to each new bookseller, she forgot to remove the old +postage stamps from the package--not an encouraging recommendation to +any editor to accept the _leavings_ of his _confrères!_ + +It was at Manchester, during six weeks that she passed there with her +father, who was forced to undergo an operation for cataract, that Miss +Brontë finished "Jane Eyre." Messrs. Smith and Elder of London +accepted the manuscript without hesitation, and from that time the +obscure young girl was a celebrity whom every one longed to know and +to receive. + +Charlotte's literary success brought a ray of joy into Mr. Brontë's +melancholy household, but it was of short duration. Twice within two +months the inhabitants of Haworth saw the window-blinds of the +parsonage closed, and heard the bell toll a death-knell. Charlotte's +brother, prostrated by excesses, and consumed internally, died in the +course of fifteen minutes; but they were minutes of awful anguish; in +the grasp of the death-agony the dying man started to his feet, crying +out that he would die standing, and that his will should give way only +with his breath. Her elder sister, Emily, left home for the last time +when she followed his bier to the grave; and another sister, the +youngest and Charlotte's well-beloved, Anna Brontë, sustained herself +awhile by dint of care and tenderness, but her lungs were affected and +she soon began to languish; she too declined and died. + +Poor Charlotte now found herself alone with her father who had lost +five of his six children. She devoted herself to writing, as much to +distract her grief as to deceive the long hours of the day; and +henceforth her personality presented two distinct faces. She was a +conscientious Englishwoman, a clergyman's daughter attached to her +duties, and an authoress, ardent and active in defence of her +convictions, and not without a certain obstinacy. "Her success +continued, and she was obliged to submit to the exhibition to which +English enthusiasm and bad taste subject their favorites. Miss Brontë +had to go to dinner-parties, and to reunions of unlooked-for luxury +and splendor; but the distinction that flattered her most was being +placed by Thackeray in the seat of honor to hear the first lecture of +this celebrated author at Willis's Rooms." + +But solitude which had been the foundation and habit of her life, +rendered her unfit for the world. Miss Brontë had suffered too much to +preserve that serenity of temper and freedom of spirit necessary to +enable one to talk easily and agreeably, and often would she sit +silent amid a cross-fire of conversation all around her "I was forced +to explain," she said, "that I was silent because I could talk no +more." + +Charlotte Brontë had arrived at the age of thirty-eight years without +having had her heart touched with any emotion stronger than dutiful +affection for her family. But--and here prose intrudes itself a +little--her father had a vicar, and what could an English vicar do but +be married? He loved Charlotte, and moreover, she had become a good +match; but on one hand the fear of a refusal, and on the other the +dread of the embarrassment for a clergyman of sharing the existence of +a literary woman, prevented him from declaring his affections. At +last, however, he took courage, and I ask myself if this courage was +not rendered more attainable by Charlotte herself. At all events she +accepted his offer without hesitation; but her father, who was too +selfish to allow his daughter to occupy herself with any one but +himself, opposed the marriage, and the enamored vicar left Haworth. + +{841} + +The privation that Mr. Brontë experienced after his vicar's +departure--a privation that Miss Brontë's temperament must have made +him feel more sensibly--was such that he recalled the suitor, and the +marriage took place. It was a dreary ceremony: no relations, no +friends, so that the bride positively had no one to lead her to the +altar; for her father had refused to be present at the marriage for +fear of feeling agitated, faithful to the end to the dry and +egotistical line of conduct he had marked out for himself. + +The wife devoted herself bravely to seconding her husband in the +duties of his ministry. She visited the poor, had a Sunday-school, +improvised prayers and knew the Bible by heart. She was happy--but her +happiness was of short duration, for physical and moral sufferings had +exhausted her, and she died just as life had become harmonized +according to her wishes. + +A celebrated author, a strong and courageous woman, aspiring after a +Christian life, she gave all that a heart can give which is not +possessed of the true light; and M. Selden is right in saying at the +close: "Charlotte is better than her heroines." There are few authors +of whom one could say as much. + + + +III. + +From England _with its maintien compassé_, and cold religious tenets, +M. Camille Selden takes us to Germany, the land of sentiment and +intellectual research, and introduces us to a Jewess in Berlin, that +we may see what a German _salon_ was at the end of the eighteenth +century. + +Rahel Levin was only twenty years old when she lost her father, a +wealthy Israelite, gloomy and violent in his bearing at home, but +amiable and attractive in society. + +The young Rahel, endowed with great intelligence and unerring tact, +united to a truly kind heart, was valued and sought by every one as +soon as she appeared in society. She was exceedingly amiable, full of +an obliging good temper that made her anticipate wishes, divine +annoyances in order to relieve them, and forget herself in seeking to +make others happy. Rare too was her loyalty; not only was her soul +incapable of falsehood, but of any want of sincerity. Her husband who +had the good taste not to be jealous of his wife's superiority and +success, said of her "that she did not think to lose by showing +herself as God had made her, or gain by hiding anything." "Natural +candor, absolute purity of soul, and sincerity of heart are the only +things worthy of respect--the rest is only external regularity and +conventionality," she often said to those who lavished upon her +expressions of respect and admiration. + +Unhappily for Mlle. Levin, circumstances concurred in alienating her +from her family. Her mother and brothers, notwithstanding their ample +fortune, showed a rapacity worthy of their race, and most unlike +Rahel's broad and generous ideas; and her position would have been +pitiable, but for the illustrious friends who frequented her mother's +house. Among them the young girl forgot the petty meanness of her home +life; and inexhaustible in ideas, perceptive faculty, and wit, she +handled the gravest subjects with delicate skill, and almost as if she +were playing with them. Full of unfailing good temper, she could +discuss the most varied, the most opposite subjects, without dogmatism +or eccentricity. + +But this want of union with her family, which had deprived her of the +domestic happiness so indispensable to every affectionate woman had +rendered her paradoxical and even a little sceptical. See, for +example, what she wrote to her youngest sister, who had consulted her +about a proposal of marriage: "The want of durability in everything, +and the inevitable separation between an object and its {842} motive, +afford, you see, the final explanation of all that is human. You do +not wish to belong to humanity; very well, destroy yourself. I feel +quite differently: only transitory things, only what is human can +tranquillize and console me." How at variance is this bitterness with +the ardent hopefulness of the spiritual Eugénie de Guérin! and how +excellent a proof, if we needed any new one, that true happiness is +unattainable without that deep religious feeling which raises us above +all passing things! Charlotte Brontë had at least that Protestant +severity which stifles all tender quailing of the heart and soul, like +a miser trembling lest he should lose a farthing of the merits of his +sacrifice; but poor Rahel possessed only the intellectual resources of +the mind, and they can do little for us. + +Goethe, whose countrywoman she was so proud of being; Goethe, little +inclined to exaggerate the value of a woman's mind, took pleasure in +calling her a generous girl. "She has powerful emotions and a careless +way of expressing them," he said: "the better you know her, the more +you feel yourself attracted and gently enthralled." + +But it was a long time before she enthralled any one. At last one of +her friends, Varnhagen von Ense, a young man twenty-six years old, +offered her his hand. Let him describe to us the charm of his first +interview with Rahel. + + "From the first, I must say that she made me experience a very rare + happiness, that of contemplating for the first time a complete + being--complete in intelligence and heart, a perfect union of nature + and cultivation. Everywhere I saw harmony, equilibrium, views as + naïve as they were original, striking in their grandeur as in their + novelty, and always in accordance with her slightest actions. And + all was pervaded with a sentiment of the purest humanity, guided by + an energetic sense of duty, and heightened by a noble + self-forgetfulness in the presence, of the joys and griefs of + others." + +Rahel was then thirty-six years old, and this great disparity of age, +added to her want of beauty and fortune, must have inspired her with +doubts of the duration of a feeling, which perhaps her heart, +accustomed to independence, did not at first reciprocate. But in +Germany marriages are not made as they are in France; people do not +marry without knowing each other, or with a precipitation which might +lead one to suppose that on both sides there was something to conceal, +or that the intention was to make a good bargain of duty. According to +the fashion of their country the two friends were betrothed, and were +then forced to separate. + +"I am not afraid; I will wait for you; I know you will never forsake +me," wrote the indulgent Rahel eight years later, when a Frenchwoman +would have lost patience a thousand times over. + +In France, where dower, beauty, name, or position, rank before +affection, such a separation would certainly have proved fatal. Had he +no cause to fear that some one else might supplant him with Rahel? Was +she untroubled by dread of the cruel dangers that threaten and disturb +the affections? Might not her heart, naturally sceptical, and shaken +by contact with the world, distrust the effect of opinion upon so +young a man? "But true love has nothing to fear from worldly talk or +material considerations; a whiff of a passing breeze cannot destroy +strongly rooted affections, whose living germ lies sheltered in the +depths of the heart." Such love can wait, for it does not know how to +change. Such love was Rahel's; was it Varnhagen's? We shall see. + +{843} + +Rahel was not an author, and had no thought of publication; it was +only after her death that her husband sought some slight consolation +in publishing her letters. These letters which make three volumes, +were written in the course of forty years, and therefore they reveal +the different phases of development in the young girl, the independent +woman, and the matron. Through the generous feelings which she +expresses, with a soul sympathizing with all sorts of interests, there +pierces a certain delicate irony which seems to find pleasure in +following out to the end any singular or original idea: We feel +painfully that this woman has lost much, suffered deeply. In the life +of Rahel the Jewess, as in that of Charlotte the Protestant, we +discern the absence of our Saviour's cross; we see nowhere the gentle +vision of the Virgin Mother. + +In one of her letters, Mlle. Levin describes the impression which a +visit to a Catholic convent had made upon her mind. She had entered +into the services in the chapel like an artist: "I would gladly go +there again, if it were only to hear the music, and breathe in the +odor of the incense," said she. But the mortifications of the +religious seemed to her more eccentric than touching; she pitied them +for having to fulfil the functions of gardener and cook, to prepare +medicines and feel the pulse of their patients. "Without exception +their hands looked coarse," she said, "and their masculine tread +sounded like the tramp of a patrol." And yet later in life Rahel was +to perform, voluntarily, the same work as these nuns, and moreover she +had a true sentiment of piety, which sometimes rose to an expression +of faith. + +"In moments of suffering," she wrote, "how happy faith makes me feel! +I love to rest upon it as on a downy pillow." + +We read these words so full of simple piety, with a full heart, +thinking sadly how little assistance this woman would have needed to +become an ardent convert to the true religion. It is really surprising +that she should not have sought out Christianity. + +"Never try to suppress a generous impulse, or to crowd out a genuine +feeling," she wrote to a friend: "despair or discouragement are the +only fruits of dry reasoning; examine yourself carefully, and dread +above all things the decisions of wisdom unenlightened by the heart." + +Rahel and Varnhagen had agreed to meet again one day; but absence is +often fatal to the strongest ties, and more than once this one was on +the point of snapping. + +"A woman who has passed thirty," says our author, "may well fear lest +youth, proved by the parish register, should win the day against youth +of mind and soul." + +It would have been very hard to find a rival to a woman so gifted as +Rahel; but the first moment of enthusiasm over, Varnhagen began to +think that his betrothed had been very prompt in her acceptance of the +promises by which he had bound himself when a young and inexperienced +man; and perhaps his memory recalled certain confidences of +ill-matched pairs, who had assured him that generosity is a snare. + +"For nothing in the world, of course, would he have renounced this +affection of which he was proud; but he thought that she would accept +his fidelity without his name, and he presumed to offer his devotion +in lieu of the projected union." + +Rahel could not accept a compromise as humiliating to her heart as +dangerous to her reputation. She refused it, but--and this was less +dignified--she refused sadly and plainly to free Varnhagen from his +engagement. This was what she wrote: + +"Bitterness at least equals suffering, when you, the single, solitary +soul who knows me thoroughly, would turn away from me, or what is the +same thing, when you would be false to yourself, and forsake me: hard +words, my friend, but none the less true. I must be severe to the only +being who has given me a right to expect anything from him. In you +alone had I hoped, and I think I should insult you in saying that I +had ceased to hope." + +{844} + +To this bitter trial was added another one, which was very severe, +though merely connected with material matters, especially for a person +who was no longer young. Half abandoned, and half _exploitée_ by her +family, Rahel had become poor. Valiant and strong, she had long +succeeded in hiding from her friends the privations which she imposed +upon herself, in order to maintain her household properly. She had +just lost her mother, and one of her brothers, who died blessing her +for her devotion, and these afflictions must be added to the money +troubles, which increased every day. Alas! there was no consolation in +this distress, for Rahel could not say like the august daughter of a +great king, "I thank God for two things; first, for having made me a +Christian, and next, for having made me unhappy." + +Economy was not her chief virtue, and kindness, that luxury which she +could not live without, led her to deprive herself of the necessaries +of life, in order that her servants might want for nothing. "It is +mere selfishness," she said, laughing; "I prefer spoiling them to +spoiling myself." + +The misfortunes of war completed the ruin of her purse and her health. +She assisted her countrymen by collecting contributions, and when +money failed, she paid with personal exertions, fulfilling the +admirable precept, "When you have given everything, give yourself." +The vehemence of her feelings exhausted her strength, and her frail +health gave way beneath the excess of privation and fatigue. She fell +ill, and was forced to keep her bed for three months. + +Her resources were exhausted, and poverty approached with great +strides. She decided to ask one of her brothers, who was rich, to send +her a little money; but he not only refused, but took a cruel pleasure +in taunting the poor girl, with what he called her crazy liberality. + +For six months the war intercepted all communications, so that she +could receive no tidings of him whom she still called her betrothed. +But this anxiety was the last. On waking one morning Rahel saw a +letter which had just been brought in, and by a sudden inspiration, +worthy of one who had never despaired, she guessed what this note +contained: "a living hope, which never dies out in valiant souls, +cried out that at last she had grasped happiness;" and the hope proved +true: ten days later she married August Varnhagen, who having +recovered from his hesitation, fulfilled his vows with a good will. + +"You will never repent marrying me," she wrote to him, with naïveté, a +little while before her marriage; "Love me, or love me not, as God +wills; whatever happens I shall be yours for ever, you can rely on me: +I am constant, as you have been constant. Rahel shall never fail you." + +Her husband was afterward made Prussian minister, and Rahel as +ambassadress was once more surrounded as in the pleasantest days of +her youth. + +She was sixty-two years old when the disease attacked her of which she +died. Varnhagen never left her, or ceased trying to make her forget +her sufferings by reading the books to her which she loved best; and +Heinrich Heine, learning that she was ordered to apply fresh +rose-leaves to her inflamed eyes, sent her his first poems, lying at +the bottom of a basket of exquisite roses. + +Madame von Varnhagen had always loved the Bible, and, especially, +Jewess though she was, the New Testament. She was never tired of +listening to the history of the sufferings and death of our Lord Jesus +Christ. One day finding herself more feeble, she said, taking her +husband's hand and pressing it on her heart: "I feel better, my +friend. I have been thinking a long time of Jesus, and it seems as if +I had never felt as at this moment how truly He is my brother, and the +brother of all men. It has comforted me." . . . These were her last +words. + +{845} + +Do these women explain _the women of our times_? It is at least +disputable; but we must recognize in them three interesting +characters. We will not try to compare them; the differences between +them are self-evident; and certainly though Eugénie de Guérin, the +Frenchwoman and the Catholic, played in a worldly sense the most +obscure part, no person of elevated views can contest the fact that +hers was the most beautiful life of the three. + + + +-------- + + +From The Lamp. + +HENRI PERREYVE. + + +The Church of France sustained a great loss when, in the flower of his +age, Henri Perreyve was cut off. Had his life been prolonged he would +doubtless have attained a high position in the diocese of Paris, and +done a very great work. A memorial of him--for it can hardly be called +a "Life"--has been recently given to the world by his friend and +confidant, Pére Gratry of the French Oratory; and thus the record of +this young priest is now made immortal by the eloquent pen of one of +the greatest spiritual writers in France. Henri Perreyve was born in +April, 1831, and died June, 1865. His was, therefore, but a brief +life--brief, but brilliant, like a short, bright summer-day. + +The comparison is not an inapt one. The life of this young man was, +compared to that of the minority of his fellow-creatures, a bright and +happy one. No great exterior sorrows met him during his earthly +career; and for the interior, there could not be much real suffering +for one who from his early childhood had given himself to God, and who +followed the standard of his Divine Master with a courage that could +not be dismayed, with an ardor which was never cooled. He was a son of +Christian parents, who early discerned his genius, and gave no +opposition to the workings of God's grace in him. He was educated at +the Lycée St. Louis; but he did not distinguish himself there. He was, +however, at the head of the catechism-class in St. Sulpice; for the +child's heart was given to God, and he could not devote himself +ardently to secular studies until he had learnt to consecrate even +them to the service of God. At twelve years old he made his first +communion. This act, which is the turning-point in the life of so +many, proved such to him. In after-years he thus described it: + + "May 29, 1859. + + "You know that I always date from my first communion the first call + from God to the ecclesiastical state. This thought gives me + happiness. I can recall now, as if it were yesterday, the blessed + moment when, having received our Lord at the holy table, I returned + to my place, and there kneeling on that red-velvet bench, which I + can see now, I promised our Lord, with a movement of sincere + affection to belong to him always, and to him only. I feel still the + kind of certainty I had from that moment of being accepted. I feel + the warmth of those first tears for the love of Jesus, which fell + from my childish eyes; and the ineffable shrinking of a soul, which + for the first time had spoken to God, had seen him and heard him. + Intimate and profound joy of the sacerdotal espousals!" + +As years passed on, he kept his faith with his Lord. Naturally seeking +his friends from among those like-minded with himself, he became soon +surrounded by and closely bound to some of the most remarkable and +{846} devoted men of the day. The Père Gratry was the guide of his +youth; and among those who followed his direction were a group of +young ardent men, burning to devote themselves to the cause of God and +his Church. Meeting a little later on with the Père Pététot, they +became the foundation-stones of the newly-revived French Oratory of +St. Philip Neri. Henri Perreyve was obliged, however, before long, by +the feebleness of his health, to withdraw from the congregation; but +he was ever linked to it by the ties of the closest affection. Père +Charles Perraud, one of the Oratorians, was throughout life his bosom +friend. They learnt together and prayed together, and were called +together to serve God in the priesthood. Charles Perraud was the first +to attain this dignity; and on the occasion of his saying his first +mass, Henri thus wrote to him. + + "Hyères, Dec. 16, 1857. + + "May the Lord be with thee! These are the sacramental words of the + deacon, the only ones I have the right of addressing to you, my dear + friend and brother, before the holy altar. I address them to you + with all the fulness of my heart, and with all the deep meaning that + befits these holy words. Yes, may the Lord be with you, dear + brother! + + "With you this morning at the altar of your first mass, to accept + your bridal promise, and reply to your perpetual vow by that + reciprocal love which passes all other love. With you during the + whole of this great day, to maintain the perfume of celestial + incense in your soul, and the odor of the sacrifice which has begun, + but which--thanks be to God!--has no ending. With you to-morrow, to + make you feel that joy in God has somewhat of eternity in it, and + that it differs from the joys of earth because we can taste it + constantly without ever exhausting it. With you when, soon after + your holy ecstasy of joy, you will feel that you must be a priest + for men; and you will go down from Mount Tabor to go to those who + suffer, to those who are ignorant, to those who are hungering and + thirsting for the true light and the true life. With you in your + sorrows to console you; with you in your joys to sanctify them; with + you in your desires to make them fruitful. + + "'_Memor sit omnis sacrificii tui, + et holocaustum tuum pingue fiat_.' + + "With you, my Charles, if you are alone in life, if our friendship + be taken from you, if you have to walk on leaning only on the arm of + a Divine Friend. + + "With you, young priest, with you growing old in the conflicts of + the priesthood, and in the service of God and men. With you on the + day of your death, which shall bring to your lips, by the hands of + another, that same Jesus who has so often been carried to others by + your trembling hands. + + "O my friend! I gather up all that my heart can contain of happy + desires, wishes, and hopes for you. I gather them all up in one + single wish: May the Lord be with thee always! + + "It will be the life of a holy priest on earth; one day it will be + heaven. + + "The Lord be with thee! + + "My Charles, bless me! I embrace yon tenderly, and feel myself with + you pressed against the Heart of the Divine Master, beloved for + ever. + + "Henri Perreyve." + +Henri Perreyve was advancing rapidly toward manhood when the +Providence of God threw him in the path of one who was to exercise a +powerful influence over his future. While Henri was a boy at school. +Father Lacordaire held the pulpit of Notre Dame; and it might truly be +said, "All Paris was moved." What those wonderful conferences did +toward undoing the fatal spiritual havoc wrought at the Revolution, +and in subsequent years, cannot be recorded in any mortal history. It +was given to men to see somewhat of the result of the labor; but the +seeds of eternal life are scattered broadcast by a preacher's hand, +and fall hither and thither unknown to any but God. + +Henri Perreyve, as a boy of thirteen, found his delight in listening +to the conferences. Six years passed by, and found him still the +attentive disciple at the feet of the great master of minds at that +period; but he was too diffident and retiring to seek a personal +acquaintance. One day, however, a friend insisted on introducing him. +Father Lacordaire was busy, and the interview lasted but a moment; but +Henri Perreyve resembled the ideal we may not unreasonably form of the +young man on whom our Lord looked and loved. Nature had been prodigal +of her gifts, and genius and innocence lent additional charm to his +exterior beauty. Lacordaire's keen eye had discerned the treasures +that could be developed in that ardent soul. + +{847} + +A few days after this hasty introduction, Henri was astonished by the +entrance of the great Dominican into his room. + +"I received you very ill the other day," he said; "I come to ask your +pardon, and talk with you." + +From that day began the closest friendship and intimacy between them. +They were literally like father and son; and at the death of +Lacordaire he bequeathed to his dear friend all that a poor monk had +to leave--his letters and papers. Henri Perreyve is said to have been +the being on earth best loved by Lacordaire. "You shall be," wrote the +latter to him, "forever in my heart as a son and as a friend." Henri, +by the pure devotion of his early youth to God, had deserved some +great gift, and it was given to him in the friendship of Lacordaire. +That the rest of his life was spent in an earnest endeavor to imitate +his friend, we can scarcely wonder at Had he lived, no doubt he would +have been a second Lacordaire; but the "sword wore out the sheath," +the frail body could not sustain the burning soul within. Lacordaire +died in the prime of life, Perreyve in the flower of his youth. + +A few more years from the time we are speaking of and he was made +priest. Work poured in on him. "The work of ten priests was offered to +him day by day." He refused a good deal; but what he reserved would +have been enough for three, and he had most feeble health. + +He was preacher at the Sorbonne, director of the Conferences of St. +Barbe, "sermons everywhere, special works on all sides, endless +correspondence, confessions, directions, reunions of young people, +incessant visits." + +Frequent illness attacked him, and obliged him to withdraw for a time +from his labors; but he returned to them with new zest. Of his +literary works the one most generally admired is the "Journée des +Malades." Here his genius was aided by that personal experience of +illness which enables a person so readily to enter into the feelings +of another. But many can know and feel the weariness and temptations +which beset a sick person, and be very incapable of putting it into +words, while M. Perreyve's "Journée des Malades" will comfort many a +heart. + +His "Rosa Ferrucci," an exquisitely written little biography, is +already to some extent known to our readers. He likewise published +"Méditations sur le Chemin de la Croix; Entretiens sur l'Eglise +Catholique;" and he edited with the greatest care, and wrote an +introduction for, the celebrated Letters from Father Lacordaire to +young people. He also wrote a "Station at the Sorbonne," and "Poland," +besides various little _brochures_. + +The chief work of the Abbé Perreyve was the guidance and influence +over young men and boys. + +The Conferences at St. Barbe were listened to by a most attentive +auditory of this class, and his power over his hearers was large and +increasing. + +"He possessed in a rare degree," says Père Gratry, "that sacred art of +speaking to men, of speaking to each one, and yet speaking to all. +Hence the universal success of his discourses." + +One of the great orators of the day, after hearing him preach at the +Sorbonne, exclaimed, "He who has not heard that, does not know how far +human eloquence can go." + +The Count de Montalembert was one day among the audience. He wrote +afterward: "I have been touched and delighted in a way I have not been +for twenty years; since the time when he of whom you are the worthy +successor enchanted my youth at Nôtre Dame." + +But as the Père Gratry justly observes, his success in colleges such +as the Lycée St. Louis and St. Barbe is still more remarkable than +that at the Sorbonne. One secret of it might be found in an +acknowledgment that he made to his friend. He had for these {848} +young people such a love, such a respect, such an idea of the +_possible future_ of each soul, such an esteem of the hidden treasures +in each heart, that he seemed to hold the key of their souls, and to +come before them as the friend of each. + +On one occasion he had to speak on the most delicate and difficult +topic it was possible a priest could have to deal with before such an +assembly. He told a story: he spoke of a death which he had witnessed, +and of the crime which had caused that death; a crime which is not +punished by human laws, but which works ruin and death on all sides. + +"And this man," said he, with that voice of his which thrilled to the +hearts of his hearers--"and this man is in society honorable and +refined; perhaps even not without religion. Gentlemen, is this the +honor that shall be yours, and is this the religion which you will +have?" + +Never can those who heard him that day forget it; they were moved to +the very depths of their souls, and tears flowed from the eyes of +those who are not easily made to weep. When he had concluded, many of +his auditors gathered around him said: "Thanks, sir; you have opened +our eyes for ever." + +The popularity of M. Perreyve survived even the severe trial of having +to address the boys of the preparatory school and the students of St. +Barbe at an hour on Sunday which would otherwise have been at their +own disposal. The sermon was to be given every fortnight, and the +audience the first time were in anything but an amiable mood. The next +day a petition was sent up by them that the sermons might be given +every week. + +Thus his life passed away; and the end hurried on all too rapidly for +those who loved him and hung upon his words. His lungs were again +affected, and he passed the last winter of his life m the south of +France. There he thought he had improved, and wrote flattering +accounts of himself; so that when he returned to Paris on Palm Sunday, +April the 9th, his family and friends were in consternation at his +altered looks. Doctors could not reassure them, and the complaint made +rapid progress. It was a terrible confirmation of his relatives' fears +when they found he was unconscious of his danger, and, like all those +in the same fatal disease, busy in making plans for the future. He +planned how he should resume his sermons at the Sorbonne, even while +he was too weak to bear the fasting necessary for his Easter +Communion; and it was with great difficulty, and leaning on the arm of +his friend the Abbé Bernard, that he communicated on May 1st in the +little chapel of our Lady of Sion, close to his home. He then went +into the country, where he rallied for a short time, and then grew +rapidly worse. The news of his change spread amongst those who loved +him because they knew him, and those who loved him because they knew +his worth in the Church. + +A "league" of prayers was organized for his recovery, and Henri began +to realize his state. He looked the prospect calmly in the face. Fame, +opportunities for doing good, the love and esteem of friends, were +instantly and willingly resigned. + +"I think of death, and accept it without regret or fear. I am grateful +for all these prayers for me; but I do not desire life. I cannot pray +with that intention." + +Then he thought of his sins, and his unworthiness, and of the Divine +Face he was about to behold; and he shrank back. He was reminded of +the mercy of God. "Truly," he said, "I who have so often preached to +others the mercy of God ought to trust in it myself." + +His greatest grief was the rarity of his communions. He consoled +himself by saying: "Missionaries are often obliged to pass a long time +without communion, and then one feels God _also_ by privation." + +{849} + +A love of solitude began to grow on him, for he was preparing himself +to be alone with God. When begged to try a new treatment, he +consented, saying, "I ask myself, as I often do, what would Père +Lacordaire have done in my place? It seems to me he would have thought +it an indication of Providence." + +He returned to Paris; and every effort of medical science was made to +arrest the malady, but all in vain. An alarming fainting fit on the +14th of June made his friends fear death was nearer to him than they +had imagined, and the Abbé Bernard thought it right to warn him. + +"You surprise me," he said quietly. "I thought myself very ill, but +not so near death; but it is so much the better; you must give me the +holy viaticum and extreme unction." + +The abbé went to fetch the blessed sacrament and holy oils from St. +Sulpice, the parish church of their childhood, of their first +communion, where they had prayed and wept together, where they had +asked many things from God, where they had together been consecrated +priests. There their whole Christian life had run by; and now one had +come to fetch for the other divine succor for his last hours. + +The invalid insisted on rising, and was dressed in his cassock to +receive the holy sacraments. Père Gratry and other friends were +present. "I can see him now," says the former, "as full of grace and +energy as ever, smiling as usual, and saying, 'I am in perfect peace, +dear father--in perfect peace.' I shall remember that sight all my +life, thank God; that noble bearing, that face pale as marble, those +large speaking eyes, his tender glance, and his last words, 'in +perfect peace.'" He made his profession of faith, begged pardon of all +whom he had offended or scandalized, thanked all for the kindness they +had shown him; and implored them "not to say, as was too often done, +'he is in heaven;' but to pray much for him after his death." Then he +said the "Te Deum" in thanksgiving for all the mercies of his life; +and at last he said to his friend, "You cannot think what interior joy +I feel since you told me I was going to die." + +The next day the Archbishop of Paris came to see him. He would be +dressed in his cassock to receive the visit, and would kneel for the +bishop's blessing. He then had a long private conversation with him. + +To this dying chamber came some of the most celebrated names in Paris: +Père Pététot, the Count do Montalembert, the Prince de Broglie, +Augustin Cochin, Mgr. Buguet, the Vicar-general, the curé of St. +Sulpice, General Zamoiski, and a hundred others. One of them said, "We +are a long way off from knowing now what he is. We shall know it one +day." "Dear friend," said he to Father Adolphe Perreud of the Oratory, +"we shall not cease to work _together_ for the cause of God and his +church. Before you leave me, give me your blessing." "On condition you +give me yours," said the Oratorian; and blessing each other, the +friends parted for ever on earth. His bodily sufferings were severe. +His bones were nearly through his skin, and his cough shook him to +pieces. He grew weaker and weaker, and at last the end came. "Give me +the crucifix, sister," said he to the nursing sister who attended on +him; "not mine, but yours, that has so often rested on dying lips. If +I die to-morrow, mother, it will be my first communion anniversary." +"Dear child," she answered, weeping, "we were both happy that day." +"Well," he answered, "we must be still happier to-morrow." + +The agony came on; he kissed the crucifix again and again, murmuring, +"Lord, have pity on me; Jesus, take me soon; Jesus, soon." Suddenly a +great terror seized him; his eyes were dilated with fear, gazing at +something invisible to all around; and he cried out, "I am afraid, I +am afraid." + +{850} + +The Abbé Bernard said, "You most not fear God; abandon yourself to his +mercy, and say, In thee, Lord, have I hoped; let me not be confounded +for ever." + +He looked at him and said, "It is not God whom I fear; oh! no. I fear +that they will prevent my dying." Then he grew calm. + +The abbé brought him the cross of Père Lacordaire, and said, "My God, +I love thee with all my heart in time and in eternity." + +"Oh! yes, with all my heart," he said, kissing the image of his Lord. +It was his last act and his last words. + +"Depart, O Christian soul!" prayed his friends Charles and Adolphe +Perreud. + +"I absolve thee from all thy sins," said the Abbé Bernard; and in a +few minutes the last struggle was over, and his soul was set free. + +Among his papers was found the following: + +"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. I die in the faith of +the Catholic Church, to whose service since I was twelve years old I +have had the happiness of consecrating my life. + +"I tenderly bless my relations and friends; I implore all those who +remember me to pray for a long time for my soul, that God, turning +away from the sight of my sins, may deign to receive me into the place +of eternal rest and happiness. I bless once again all those who are +dear to me--my relations, my benefactors, my masters, my fathers and +brothers in the priesthood, my spiritual sons, the number of dear +young people who have loved me, all the souls to whom I have been +united on earth by the tie of the same faith and the same love in +Jesus Christ." + +The inscription on his tomb was chosen by himself: + +"Lord, when I have seen thy glory, I shall be satisfied with it." + +These words were as a key to his life. An insatiable, ardent desire +for God had possessed him, animated his actions; and at last the very +ardor of his longings wore out the feeble body that enclosed so grand +and beautiful a soul. + + +-------- + +From The Dublin University Magazine. + +SONNET. + + Upon a rose-tree bending o'er a river + A bird from spring to summer gaily sang; + For love of its sweet friend, the rose, for ever + Its beating heart with happy music rang, + In sunshine warm and moonlight by the shore, + Whose waves afar its voice melodious bore, + Blent with its own. But when, alas! the sere + Grey autumn came, withering those blooms so dear, + Still full of love but full of sadness too, + Changed the sweet song as changed the rose's hue + Mourning each day some rich leaf disappear + Until the last had dropped into the stream, + Anguished by wintry breezes blowing keen. + Then, on the bough forlorn, mute as a dream. + Awhile the poor bird clung, and soon was seen no more. + + +---------- + +{851} + + +From Once a Week. + +CARDINAL TOSTI. + + + +BY BESSIE RAYNOR PARKER. + + +It was in the afternoon of Friday, the 23d of March, that Rome heard +of the death of the "learned and venerable Tosti." This aged cardinal, +long the director of the great establishment of San Michele, (which is +a hospital and school combined,) had attained to nearly ninety years. +Now he was dead, and laid out in state in his own room at San Michele, +whither we went about five o'clock, and, threading the vast corridors, +which run round a court blossoming with oranges and lemons, ascending +a long flight of stone stairs, got into upper regions filled with a +perceptible hum, soldier sentinels stationed by the opened doors, who +motioned us on from room to room till we came to the last of all. +These rooms were perfectly empty of all furniture, save a few +book-cases under glass; but the yellow satin walls of one, and the +delicately-tinted panels of another, showed that they had but lately +formed the private apartments of him who was gone. Three or four +temporary altars were erected in the empty space, adorned by tall +unlighted candles. A thrill crept over us as we neared that last open +door, a silent sentinel at either side; as we crossed the antechamber, +and came in a direct line with the aperture, we saw a figure, +splendidly attired, reposing on a great sloping couch of cloth of +gold. The face of this figure indicated extreme age; the brow was +surmounted by the bright scarlet berretta, which caught the light from +the setting sun. The shrunken frame was clothed in the soft purple of +its ecclesiastical rank. The hands were crossed and held a crucifix; +the feet were turned up in new and pointed shoes. There he lay, +Cardinal Tosti, who for five-and-twenty years was the handsomest of +all the Sacred Conclave, and towered above his brethren when they +walked in procession, drawing the admiration of beholders. + +There was no sound, as we knelt by the dead man's couch; through the +window could be seen the swift Tiber, swollen by the recent rains, and +on the other side of the river rose the green slopes of the +half-deserted Aventine, with its few solitary churches, Santa Sabina, +Santa Alessio, and its gracious crown of trees. Here had Tosti dwelt +for many a year, in rooms which looked to the golden west. Here he +occupied himself with his books, and with the school for industrial +and artistic pursuits which was due to his efforts at San Michele. I +have never seen anything so marvellously picturesque and impressive as +that dead man, lying on his couch of cloth of gold, the closing scene +of a long life, which stretched back far beyond the wars of the first +Napoleon, even to the period when Papal Rome received the royal +refugees of the French Revolution. + +Presently, a group of white-robed priests entered, and began reciting +the office for the dead. This was the signal for the gathering of a +little crowd of Romans. Brown-cowled monks, peasant women with their +children in arms, boys and girls with large wondering dark eyes. +Together they crowded to the door of the dead man's chamber, and knelt +upon the floor, so that above and {852} beyond their bowed heads could +be seen that pale splendor upon its shining couch. We left with +reluctant footsteps, feeling a fascination in the picture which it is +hard to describe. + +Late in the evening, an hour after the _Ave_, the corpse was to be +conveyed by torch-light to Santa Cecilia, the cardinal's titular +church; and at Santa Cecilia we found ourselves in the starry night. +The torches were just entering the church as we drove up; and for some +minutes the doors were inexorably shut, and we feared we had lost all +chance of an entrance. But we were presently admitted, and saw indeed +a striking scene! The small church of Santa Cecilia in Trastevere, +famous as being built upon the site of the young martyr's dwelling, +was draped in black and gold from ceiling to pavement, and where the +altar-piece is generally to be seen was a great flat gold cross on a +black ground. The sanctuary was greatly enlarged for the morrow's +service, and hung with black; and in the nave, not very far from the +great portal, rose a large empty couch, exactly resembling that which +we had seen in the cardinal's private chamber. At its foot was a low +bier, whereon now lay the same white image of a man in its purple +robes, and a group of attendants crowded reverentially around it, +flashing torches in their hands, which formed a centre of light in the +dark church, reminding one of the famous Correggio; only, instead of +the new-born Babe, the illumination of humanity for all time to come, +was the aged dead, no longer capable of communicating the living light +of intelligence or of faith, but lying in a pale reflection under the +torches, and gathering into itself all the meaning of the whole scene. + +We perceived that something remarkable was about to take place, and +retired discreetly behind a pillar, that our accidental presence might +attract no notice. The truth was, that the cardinal was about to be +laid out for the great funeral service of the morrow; and by chance we +had gained admission at this purely private hour. The body was taken +on the little bier into the sacristy, and there we supposed that some +change was made in the raiment; when it was brought back the hands +were gloved, and instead of the scarlet berretta was a plain +skull-cap. Then, with difficulty and much consultation, but with +perfect reverence of intention, the straight image was lifted on to +the great couch; the assistant men being grouped on ladders, and an +eager voluble monsignore directing the whole. The ladders, the +torch-light, the mechanical difficulty of the operation, again +reminded me of one of those great depositions in which the actual +scene of the Cross is so vividly brought out by art. At length the +dead cardinal lay placidly upon his cloth of gold, and they fetched +his ring to put upon his hand, and his white mitre wherewith to clothe +his gray hairs. We left them performing the last careful offices, +making the strangest, the most gorgeous torch-light group in the +middle of that dark church that poet or artist could conceive. + +The next morning the Pope and the College of Cardinals came to +officiate at the funeral mass. The square court in front of Santa +Cecilia was filled with an eager crowd of Romans and _Forestieri_, +with the splendid costumes of the Papal Guard, with prancing horses +and old-fashioned chariots, gorgeous with gilding and color. They were +much such a company of equipages as may be seen in our Kensington +Museum, but so fresh and well-appointed in spite of the extreme +antiquity of their design, that one felt as if carried back to the +days of Whittington, Lord Mayor of London. Into Santa Cecilia itself +we could not penetrate, by reason of the crowd and the stern vigilance +of the soldiers, who, attired in the red-and-yellow costume designed +by Michael Angelo, kept a considerable space in the nave empty for the +moment when the Pope should walk from the altar to the bier. But {853} +through the open door we saw the lights upon the black-draped altar +and in front of that gorgeous couch, with its motionless occupant, his +white mitre being now the conspicuous point in the picture. And when +the Pope left the dim church and came out into the sunshine, the +brilliant rays fell upon his venerable white hair and scarlet cap, +while the weapons flashed and the crowd shouted, as he ascended his +wonderful chariot with the black horses, and drove away. + + +-------- + +MISCELLANY. + + +_Microscopic Plants the Cause of Ague_.--Owing to the prevalence of +ague in the malarial district of Ohio and Mississippi, Dr. Salisbury +undertook a series of experiments in 1862, with a view to determine +the microscopic characters of the expectorations of his patients. He +commenced his experiments by examining the mucous secretions of those +patients who had been most submitted to the malaria, and in these he +detected a large amount of low forms of life, such as algae, fungi, +diatomaceae, and desmidiae. At first he imagined that the presence of +these organisms might be accidental, but repeated experiments +convinced him that some of them were invariably associated with ague. +The bodies which are constantly present in such cases he describes as +being "minute oblong cells, either single or aggregated, consisting of +a distinct nucleus, surrounded with a smooth cell-wall, with a highly +clear, apparently empty space between the outer cell-wall and the +nucleus." From these characters Dr. Salisbury concludes that the +bodies are not fungi, but belong properly to the algae, in all +probability being species of the genus _Palmella_. Whilst the +diatomaceae and other organisms were found to be generally present the +bodies just described were not found above the level at which the ague +was observed. In order to ascertain exactly their source, he suspended +plates of glass over the water in a certain marsh which was regarded +as unhealthy. In the water which condensed upon the under surface of +these plates, he found numerous palmella-like structures, and on +examining the mould of the bog, he found it full of similar organisms. +From repeated researches Dr. Salisbury concludes: (1.) Cryptogamic +spores are carried aloft above the surface at night, in the damp +exhalations which appear after sunset (2.) These bodies rise from +thirty to sixty feet, never above the summit of the damp +night-exhalations, and ague is similarly limited. (3.) The day-air of +ague districts is free from these bodies. + + +_Use of Lime in Extracting Sugar_.--Peligot long ago demonstrated +that owing to the insoluble nature of the compound formed of lime with +sugar, the former substance would be a most valuable agent in the +manufacture of the latter. Peligot's suggestion is now being carried +out on a large scale in MM. Schrötter and Wellman's sugar-factory at +Berlin. The molasses is mixed with the requisite quantity of hydrate +of lime and alcohol in a large vat, and intimately stirred for more +than half an hour. The lime compound of sugar which separates is then +strained off, pressed, and washed with spirit. All the alcohol used in +the process is afterward recovered by distillation. The mud-like +precipitate thus produced is mixed with water and decomposed with a +current of carbonic acid, which is effected in somewhat less than half +an hour. The carbonate of lime is removed by filtration, and the clear +liquid, containing the sugar, evaporated, decolorized with animal +charcoal, and crystallized in the usual manner. The sugar furnished by +this method has a very clear appearance, and is perfectly crystalline. +It contains, according to polarization analysis, sixty-six per cent of +sugar, twelve per cent of water, the remainder being uncrystallizable +organic matter and salts. The yield, of course, varies with the +richness and degree of concentration of the raw material; on an +average, thirty pounds of sugar were obtained from one hundred pounds +of molasses. + +{854} + +_Russian Coal Resources_.--Recent explorations and surveys appear to +show that the Russian coal resources are much vaster even than those +of the United States of America. In the Oural district coal has been +found in various places, both in the east and west sides of the +mountain-chain; its value being greatly enhanced by the fact that an +abundance of iron is found in the vicinity. There is an immense basin +in the district of which Moscow is the centre, which covers an area of +one hundred and twenty thousand square miles, which is therefore +nearly as large as the entire bituminous coal area of the United +States. The coal region of the Don is more than half as large as all +of our coal measures. Besides these sources, coal has lately been +discovered in the Caucasus, Crimea, Simbirsk, the Kherson, and in +Poland. + +-------- + +NEW PUBLICATIONS. + + + +Medical Recollections Of The Army Of The Potomac. +By Jonathan Letterman, M.D., late Surgeon U.S.A., and Medical Director +of the Army of the Potomac. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 8vo, pp. 194. + +The preface to this volume announces the intention of its author: "It +is written in the hope that the labors of the medical officers of the +army may be known to an intelligent people, with whom to know is to +appreciate; and as an affectionate tribute to many, long my zealous +and efficient colleagues, who, in days of trial and danger which have +passed, let us hope never to return, evinced their devotion to their +country and the cause of humanity without hope of promotion or +expectation of reward." It is a sketch of the Medical Department of +the army of the Potomac under Dr. Letterman's administration, from +July, 1862, to January, 1864, and affords a concurrent view of the +military movements of that army during the period specified. + +Without infringing upon military details properly so called, an +excellent general idea is given of the battles fought, and the +strategic value of the great changes of position which were executed +with such remarkable promptitude and precision. + +Dr. Letterman confines himself strictly to the period of his own +administration, and the account of the alterations and improvements +introduced under his direction, and chiefly through his means, in the +working of the medical department. + +The system which he adopted became the system substantially of all the +armies of the United States, and with occasional modifications to suit +particular occasions has proved to be the best and most efficient as +well as manageable that could have been devised. To Dr. Letterman +belongs the great praise of having studiously and laboriously +perfected the principles and details of these changes, and succeeded +in securing their recognition and enforcement. + +The total inadequacy of the old system was painfully obvious to all +competent and thoughtful observers at the breaking out of the war. It +was especially so to those who were placed in responsible executive +positions at the front, while the authority in the rear remained bound +to its old ideas, and incapable of understanding the great issues +involved, and the expenditure of independent intelligence and +_matérial_ necessary to accomplish any adequate result. The immediate +consequence was an unnecessary waste of life, of national strength and +resources, and an amount of misery inflicted and suffering endured +which can never be computed and had best now be dismissed for ever. +These causes led early in the war to the appointment of a young, +vigorous, bold, and undeniably able man as Surgeon-General. He made a +complete reformation in the department, and shared the fate of +reformers. He was sacrificed as a victim to the genius of +indifference, neglect, parsimony, and cruelty, which had hitherto held +undisputed or but feebly disputed sway over the fallen on battlefields +and the sick of armies. {855} This is not the time or place to discuss +ex-Surgeon-General Hammond; but it is due to him at all hands, that he +has probably been the means of mitigating the horrors of war as +respects the sick and wounded, and promoting the sacred cause of +humanity in these particulars to a greater degree than any man who +ever lived. The magnitude of the reforms accomplished, the magnificent +scale on which preparation was made, and the courage to order the +necessary expenditures in the face of the time-honored but mean and +timid traditions of the Surgeon-General's office, and the habits of +thought and action engendered thereby in the bureaus of administration +and supply, cannot be appreciated until some learned and philosophical +physician shall write the medical history of the war from its humane +and social points of view. + +We are disposed to give Dr. Letterman all the merit which his book +would seem to claim, and a much higher degree of praise than his +well-known modesty would expect, but we cannot pass over in silence +the gigantic and unrequited labors of his predecessor, Colonel Chas. +S. Tripler, Surgeon U.S.A., the first Medical Director of the army of +the Potomac, which paved the way for the improved methods Dr. +Letterman had the honor of introducing. We are aware that many of the +most important were in contemplation, and if we mistake not, the +ambulance system originated with Dr. Tripler. The terrible experiences +of the Seven Days and the Chickahominy opened the eyes of the military +authorities to the tremendous necessities of the case, and made the +work of medical reform comparatively easy. There is no teacher like +suffering, for Generals as well as _mortals_. + +The military mind is to a great degree governed by the traditions of +the middle ages, when surgery was an ignoble because ignorant and +consequently cruel craft. The rights and privileges of rank have been +slowly and reluctantly conceded, and every effort has been made to +deprive the surgeon of the dignity which belongs to the combatant and +a participation in common toils and dangers. These prejudices have +given way rapidly during the late war, where the courage, skill, and +self-sacrificing charity of medical officers have been most +conspicuous. Many surgeons have proved their manhood in most trying +scenes, and have certainly stood fire as well as the line and staff. +The record of killed and wounded places them on a level with any staff +corps in these respects. + +Military prejudice in the regular army, and the ignorance, stupidity, +and arrogance of many volunteer officers, were an obstacle to the +medical department in the beginning. They gradually gave way under the +steady pressure of intelligence, courage, and determination, till in +the end ambulances became as much respected as battery wagons, and +every able and good officer the friend, supporter, and defender of the +medical department. + +Dr. Letterman has done an excellent service to his profession at large +by his book, which is another vindication of the claims of legitimate +medicine upon the respect, confidence, and gratitude of the public. + +The work is well written and handsomely issued. It is a great subject, +and capable of being developed to a much, higher degree in extent and +scope, which we hope Dr. Letterman will have time and opportunity to +do. + + + +THE NEW-ENGLANDER, July, 1866. + +This periodical emanates from the venerable and classic shades of Yale +University, and is edited by some of the younger professors, two of +whom are inheritors of the distinguished names of Dwight and Kingsley. +It is marked by the refined literary taste, polished style, and +amenity of spirit which are characteristic of the New Haven circle of +scientific and clerical gentlemen. There is very much in the general +tone of its principles and tendencies which gives us pleasure and +awakens our hope for the future. We may indicate particularly, as +illustrations of our meaning, the principle of the divine institution +and authority of government; the sympathy manifested with an ideal and +spiritual system of philosophy, and the decided opposition to the new +English school of anti-biblical rationalism. + +There are several notices of recent Catholic publications which are +written in a courteous style, contrasting very favorably with that +employed by most Protestant periodicals. Dr. Brownson's "American +Republic" receives a respectful and moderately appreciative notice. +The "Memoir and Sermons of F. Baker" is also honored with one which is +very {856} kind and sympathetic, expressing the "intense and mournful +interest" of the writer in the book, and still more in its author, for +which no doubt he will be duly grateful, although we know of no reason +why his friends should go into mourning for him during his lifetime. +The writer, after remarking that the arguments contained in the book +are chiefly addressed to Episcopalians, and therefore need not trouble +any other Protestants, throws out a couple of rejoinders to what he +supposes the author might say to these last, if he were disposed. One +of these remarks is an assertion that the Paulists and their brethren +of the Catholic clergy do not preach Christ. Does the writer really +know nothing of the Catholic system of practical religion except what +he has read in D'Aubigné and the "Schönberg-Cotta" romance? If not, we +recommend him to acquire more correct information from our best +writers. If he has it already, we cannot understand how he could make +such a statement. His winding-up apostrophe to the Paulists, "O +foolish Paulists, who hath bewitched you? you observe days and months +and times and years," is more witty than wise. The Paulists observe, +in common with other Catholics, sixty days in the year as obligatory, +and of these fifty-two are observed with much greater rigor than we +insist upon by the Congregationalists of New Haven. When the writer +gives us a good explanation of his doctrine of the Christian Sabbath +in harmony with St. Paul's teaching to the Galatians, we will +cheerfully undertake the vindication of the other eight holidays, and +will endeavor to convince him that it is just as reasonable to have +handsome altars, statues, pictures, and flowers, in churches, as it is +to have fine churches, marble pulpits, frescoed ceilings, well-dressed +clergymen, and handsome houses with pretty flower-gardens for these +clergymen. + +In our view, there is better work for the learned scholars of New +Haven to do than to indulge in light skirmishing with Catholics and +Episcopalians. They have all the treasures of science and learning at +command, with leisure and ability to use them. There are great +questions respecting the agreement between science and revelation, the +authenticity and credibility of the sacred books, the fundamental +doctrines of philosophy and religion, pressing on the attention of +every man who thinks and cares about God and his fellow-men. The +people around us are drifting rapidly into infidelity and sin. There +is no remedy for this but a reëstablishment of first principles; and +we would like to see our learned friends apply themselves to this +work. It may justly be expected from such an old and world-renowned +university as Yale College, that it should produce the most solid +works, not merely in classic lore and physical science, but in the +higher branches of metaphysics and theology. Dr. Dwight was a great +theologian, and is so styled by Döllinger. Drs. Taylor and Fitch were, +both, able and acute metaphysicians. Since their day, we are afraid +that our friends have fallen asleep in these departments. They set out +to reform Calvinism, to reconcile orthodox Protestantism with reason, +and to find a method of bringing the practical truths of Christianity +to bear on men universally. In spite of their able and zealous efforts +in this direction, religious belief and practice have been steadily on +the wane around them. As for morality, the article on "Divorce," which +we shall make the topic of a separate article hereafter, makes +disclosures which are indeed startling. We would like to have them +resume their work, therefore, once more, from the beginning, and go +back to the most ultimate principles. In what state was man originally +created? What is the relation of the race to Adam? What is original +sin? Whence the need of a Divine Redeemer and a revelation? What are +the means established by Jesus Christ for the regeneration and +salvation of mankind? What is the remedy for the present deplorable +condition of both Christendom and heathendom? Of course, the +discussion of these fundamental questions will involve a thorough +sifting of the Catholic doctrines. We are anxious to have it made, and +when the discussion is carried on upon fundamental grounds, a result +may be hoped for which cannot be gained by skirmishing around the +outposts. + +The clergy and people of New Haven, and of Connecticut generally, have +always been remarkable for their friendly behavior toward Catholics. +There has never been any disposition to persecute them, and, at +present, the relations between the Catholic and non-Catholic sections +of the population are just what they should be in a land of religious +freedom. A judge in New Haven has recently pronounced, in open court, +his decision that the Catholic religion is just {857} as much the +religion of the state as the Protestant; and the last Legislature has +passed the most just and favorable law regulating the tenure of church +property that exists in the United States. The conductors of the +"New-Englander" will surely join us in the wish that all the people of +the state may ere long become one in the belief and practice of the +pure and complete Christian faith as Christ revealed it. + + +A PLEA FOR THE QUEEN'S ENGLISH. +Stray Notes on Speaking and Spelling, by Henry Alvord, D.D., Dean of +Canterbury. Tenth thousand. Alexander Strahan.--THE DEAN'S ENGLISH. A +Criticism on the Dean of Canterbury's Essays on the Queen's English. +By G. Washington Moon, Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature. +Fourth edition. Alexander Strahan. + +Among the critics of the English press there seems to be but one +opinion concerning the merits of the two combatants in this literary +joust; that the Dean is deservedly castigated, and that Mr. Moon is an +unapproachable paragon of literary effulgence. However, this is not to +be wondered at. These same critics, and the English press to which +they contribute, sadly need a champion, if we may believe his +reverence of Canterbury. Gross inaccuracies in syntax, unpardonable +faults in style, and frequently occurring examples of slip-shod +sentences would appear, from the "Plea for the Queen's English," to +be, on the whole, characteristic of the modern English press. + +We, transatlantic barbarians that we are, of course know nothing of +the English language, and have not the presumption, we hope, to think +that we can either speak or write one faultless sentence of the +language which we inherit as a means of intercommunion with our +fellows. It is our duty to feel "umble," and we do feel "umble." But, +while perusing these two books, we have had an 'umble and an 'arty +laugh in the depths of our 'umiliation. It may have been very sinful +in us, we know, but we could not help it. As the youthful culprit +replied, when caught laughing in church, we say, 'umbly of course, "We +didn't laugh, it laughed itself!" At the risk of not being believed by +those who have not yet read these, two books, we give the astounding +information that even an Englishman, an educated Englishman, a +dignitary of the English church, a poet, whose verses we republished +in America, (and, confound us, left out the u's,) not only speaks and +writes bad English, but also on his own showing, by the light of Mr. +Moon's volume, presumes to teach others to do the same. Yes, these +published lessons of the Very Rev. Dean, in speaking and spelling, are +so outrageously ungrammatical, and so faulty in style, that we should +not be surprised if the prediction of his antagonist would come true, +that henceforth people will speak of bad English as Dean's English. +Yet with all its faults it is a useful book; and we think that neither +Mr. Moon nor the newspaper critics have done the author justice. We do +not like "Dean's English," and it is humiliating, even to an American, +to discover that he has carelessly spoken or written it; but we like +the Dean's book better than we do Mr. Moon's. We like the schoolboy's +walk better than the schoolmarm's. Mr. Moon's style is faultlessly +prim and precise, and defies literary criticism; but we have felt, +more than once, a wish to take up some of his exact sentences and give +them a good shaking, so as to get a little of the stiffness out of +them. The Dean has written as most people speak; Mr. Moon writes as +nobody ever did or ever will speak. We should write correctly, it is +true, but there is a comparison (however paradoxical it may appear) +even in correctness. Mr. Moon aims to write "most correctly," and we +think that his style is far less pleasing than it would have been if +he had simply written correctly. There is such a thing as +"punctiliousness in all its stolidity, without any application of the +sound or effect of one's sentences." As is his style, so is his +criticism. Nothing escapes his eye; the want of a comma, a sentence a +trifle too elliptical, a careless tautology, (Mr. Moon would have us +say--a carelessly written tautological expression,) are blemishes at +which he turns away his face in rhetorical disgust. Nevertheless, we +say again, we like the Dean's book. It deserves to be studied by all +our young writers, who need to be warned against the use of many +popular phrases, and have their attention directed to common faults in +construction. It is a lively, chatty book, and keeps us in a good +humor from the first to the last page. + +{858} + +The sharp criticism of Mr. Mood is well worth reading. It furnishes us +with an index to the blunders of the Very Rev. Dean. So closely has he +examined these faults and calculated their guilt, that he actually +sums up for us, in one instance, the number of possible readings of +one unfortunate sentence. It contains only ten lines, and may be read +ten thousand two hundred and forty different ways, as Mr. Moon shows +us. Severely as he was attacked, and despite certain personal +innuendos, not by any means creditable to his adversary, the +good-natured Dean (we are sure of his good nature, from his book) +comes off victor, in our opinion, by inviting his enemy to dinner. +When a little time shall have healed the bruises of the literary +castigation he has received, he will doubtless re-write his book, and +give us under another form the profitable hints and helps which at +present need a more exact classification. + + +COSAS DE ESPAÑA. +Illustrative of Spain and the Spaniards as they are. By Mrs. Wm. Pitt +Byrne, author of "Flemish Interiors," etc. 2 vols. 12mo. Alexander +Strahan, London and New York. 1866. + +The publications of Mr. Strahan are well known for the taste and +elegance displayed in their exterior dress. The book before us merits +a full meed of praise in this respect; but it is one of the most +wretched pieces of English composition that has come under our notice. +It has a preface of forty pages, which prefaces nothing, being in fact +nothing more than a few statistics of railways, the army, the mineral +and other products of Spain, jumbled together, with no attempt at +order or classification. The first chapter, styled "introductory," is +jumble number two, on national character, entertainments, +manufactures, railways again, infanticide, education, authors and +authoresses, sobriety and smoking. + +In the second chapter we are surprised to find the authoress has not +yet left Dover. We thought we were in Spain long ago. It is not until +the middle of the third chapter that we are permitted to get to the +frontier, and by this time we confess we are tired of our gentle +guide, and decline going any further. When we are conversing with an +Englishman or an Englishwoman, we prefer the English language to that +affected jargon which consists in italicizing and translating into a +foreign language every emphatic word. It is scarcely an exaggeration +to say that there are three or four such italicized foreign words, +French, Spanish, Latin, or Greek, on each and every page of these two +volumes. Our readers may wish to see a specimen. "The first obstacle +that met us on this same bridge was a crowd of _ouvriers_ in blouses," +p. 26. "The cathedral rather disappointed us, _quoad_ its outward +aspect, and offers nothing _very_ remarkable within," p. 27. "There +are, it is true, some districts which present a very curious and +interesting picture _en_ bird's eye," p. 28. "One day it was a +_fiesta_, on which we made sure of admission, because the _entrée_ is +_libre_ on Sundays, and in all _else_, a _fiesta_ is synonymous with a +Sunday; and finally, at the last attempt we made, on the _right_ day, +hour, etc.," p. 41, vol. ii. "Boleros and Fandangos are national +dances, but they are among the _délassements_ of the _plebs_," p. 145, +vol. ii. Scattered here and there through these intolerable pages we +find numerous examples of wit unequalled in dreariness. Speaking of +Spanish authoresses the writer facetiously remarks, "One or two have +so far exceeded the ordinary limits of female capacity in Spain, as +even to dip the tip of their hose into the cerulean ink-bottle." Of +the domestic pottery she says: "There is what we may call a jar-ring +incongruity between the roughness of the material and the striking +elegance of the form." Aquatic gambolling at Biarritz, we are told, +"is not the only gambling to be seen there." A visit to the tomb of an +archbishop elicits the following: "It is an object of great +attraction, and renders the spot chosen by the archbishop an excellent +site for a tomb, as it cannot fail to keep the memory of him whose +bones it covers before all who frequent the church, and there can be +now little left _besides_ his bones. This is as it should be. '_De +mortuis nil nisi bonum_.'" + +Had the book been expurgated of the hundreds of foreign words, and of +all these dead-and-alive puns, which deface its pages, and the subject +matter been arranged with the slightest view to order, it would have +been quite readable, for the authoress is good-natured and +communicative, and has an eye for the beautiful and the picturesque, +as well as {859} intelligence to appreciate the moral and the useful; +but, as it is, we think the quotations we have made from it are quite +sufficient to prove the justice of our opinion concerning it. + + + +LETTERS OF EUGÉNIE DE GUÉRIN. +Edited by G. S. Trebutien. 12mo, pp. 453. London: Alexander Strahan; +New York: Lawrence Kehoe. 1866. + +Our readers have already been presented in our pages with several +articles and notices of Eugénie de Guérin's character and writings, +and they are doubtless sufficiently familiar with both to waive any +further reflections upon either in this place. The volume of letters +before us is, like her journal, a delicious literary repast, from +which we rise with mind and heart equally gladdened and refreshed. Our +space will not permit us to give but one or two short extracts. "23d +December, 1863. I write to you, dear Louise, to the sound of the +_Nadalet_, to the merry peal of bells, announcing the sweetest +festival of the year. It is, indeed, very beautiful this midnight +celebration, this memorial of the manger, the angels, the shepherds, +of Mary and the infant Jesus, of so many mysteries of love +accomplished in this marvellous night. I shall go to the midnight +mass, not in hope of a pie, coffee, and such a pleasant dish as your +nocturnal cavalier; nothing of the kind is to be found at Cahuzac, +where I only enjoy celestial pleasures, such as one experiences in +praying to the good God, hearing beautiful sermons, gentle lessons, +and, in a quiet corner of the church, giving oneself up to rapturous +emotion. Happy moments, when one no longer belongs to earth, when one +lets heart, soul, mind, wing their way to heaven!" + +The following to M. de la Morvonnais he must have received and read +with intense emotion: + + Cayla, 28th July, 1835. + + Did you imagine, Monsieur, that I should not write to you any more? + Oh! how mistaken you would have been! It was your journey to Paris, + and, after that, other obstacles, which prevented my speaking to you + earlier of Marie. But we will speak of her to-day; yes, let us speak + of her, always of her; let her be always betwixt us. It is for her + sake I write to you: first of all, because I love her and find it + sweet to recall her memory; and then, because it seems to me that + she is glad you should sometimes hear terms of expression that + _vividly recall_ her. I come, then, to remind you of that sacred + resemblance so sweet to myself when it strikes you. How I bless God + for having bestowed it upon me, and thus enabled me to do you some + good! This shall be my mission with regard to you, and with what + delight shall I fulfil it! + + Do not say that there is any merit or act of profound charity in + this acceptation. My heart goes out quite naturally toward those who + weep, and I am happy as an angel when I can console. You tell me + that your life will no longer have any bright side, that I can + elicit nothing from you but sadness. I know this; but can that + estrange me--I, who loved the Marie you weep? Ah! yes; let us weep + over her; lean on me the while, if you will. To me it is not painful + to receive tears: not that my heart is strong, as you believe, only + it is Christian, and finds at the foot of the cross enough to enable + it to support its own sorrows and those of others. Marie did the + same . . . . let us seek to imitate the saints. You will teach this + to your daughter beside the cross on that grave whither you often + lead her. Poor little one! how I should like to see her, to + accompany her in that pilgrimage to that tomb beside the sea, and + under the pines, to pray, to weep there, to take her on my knees and + speak to her of heaven and of her mother. This would be a joy to me: + you know that there are melancholy ones. + +We give only these little tastes of the charming volume, which will +find its way, after the "journal," into many a circle, to afford in +its perusal the most unqualified delight to all its readers. + + + +THE VALLEY OF WYOMING; the Romance of its History and its Poetry; also +Specimens of Indian Eloquence. +Compiled by a Native of the Valley. 12mo, pp. 153. New York: R. H. +Johnston & Co. 1866. + +"This little volume," says the author in his prefatory note, "has not +the slightest claim to be either a history or a study of romance." We +are sorry that it has not, for we cannot see that (apart from the +republication of Campbell's "Gertrude of Wyoming") it has the +slightest claim to be anything else. We thank the author, however, for +giving us the following amongst the specimens of Indian eloquence. It +is part of the reply of the celebrated chief Red Jacket to a +Protestant missionary, + +{860} + +"_Brother_, continue to listen. You say you are sent to instruct us +how to worship the Great Spirit agreeably to his mind, and that if we +do not take hold of the religion which you teach, we shall be unhappy +hereafter. How do we know this to be true? We understand that your +religion is written in a book. If it was intended for us as well as +you, why has not the Great Spirit given it to us: and not only to us, +but why did he not give to our forefathers the knowledge of that book, +with the means of rightly understanding it? . . . . _Brother_, you +say that there is but one way to worship and serve the Great Spirit. +If there is but one religion, why do you white people differ so much +about it? _Why not all agree, as you can all read the book?_" + +We should like to know what answer the missionary made, or could make, +to that argument. + + + +SHAKESPEARE'S DELINEATION OF INSANITY AND SUICIDE. +By A. O. Kellogg, M.D., Assistant Physician State Lunatic Asylum, +Utica, N. Y. 12mo, pp. 204. New-York: Hurd and Houghton. 1866. + +Dr. Kellogg's essays upon some of the characters in Shakespeare are +the evidence of an expert in support and illustration of the intuitive +apprehension and scientific fidelity of genius to truth. The +difference between the creations of genius and those of industry is, +to a certain degree, the difference between the limning of the sea and +the laborious skill of the engraver. The mind gives its unquestioning +and conscious assent to the psychological _delineations_ of +Shakespeare, but it is doubtful if Shakespeare ever made it a special +subject of study. He was undoubtedly a thorough reader of the ancient +classics, and a close and critical observer of the persons and events +of his own time, and that we believe to have been the substance of his +education, properly so called. + +The essay on Hamlet is the best, and we quite agree with Dr. Kellogg's +conclusion on this much disputed subject, that the dramatist meant to +describe a mind unsettled by distress, and gradually culminating in +complete madness. If we were allowed to draw a personal conclusion +from reading this book, we should say that Dr. Kellogg is admirably +adapted for that department of his noble profession which he has +chosen. + +The volume is well printed and beautifully bound. + + + +HOMES WITHOUT HANDS. +Being a Description of the Habitations of Animals, classed according +to their Principles of Construction. By Rev. J. G. Wood, M.A., F.L.S., +etc. With new designs by W. F. Keyle and E. Smith. 8vo, pp. 651. New +York: Harper and Brothers. 1866. + +This is a delightful book, full of scientific knowledge communicated +in the most pleasing and attractive style. It is admirably calculated +to awaken a love for natural science and original collection and +exploration. We consider this class of studies of the highest value, +especially on account of their reflex action on the mind and +character, and their powerful influence in the direction of morality +and religion. We would suggest this book as an admirable one for +prizes in our Catholic boarding-schools, and we wish natural science +were more prized and cultivated in them than it at present seems to +be. + +It is printed and bound in a very handsome manner. + + + +A PRACTICAL GRAMMAR OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. +By T.E. Howard, A.M. Metropolitan Series. New York: D. & J. Sadlier & +Co. 1866. + +This is an excellent little manual for our schools, and we doubt not +that it will come into extensive use. + +It bears throughout the unmistakable signs of having come from the +hand of an experienced teacher, from whose pen books of this character +must come to possess any practical worth. The style in which it is +published is, to our thinking, and according to our experience, unfit +for a school-book. The copy sent us would be in tatters in the hand of +a school boy before he had studied one tenth of it. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Catholic World. Volume III; +Numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6., by E. Rameur + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41032 *** |