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@@ -1,29 +1,7 @@
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Catholic World, Vol. 09, April,
-1869-September, 1869, by Various
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Catholic World, Vol. 09, April, 1869-September, 1869
-
-Author: Various
-
-Release Date: July 3, 2018 [EBook #57439]
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 57439 ***
 
-Language: English
 
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
 
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CATHOLIC WORLD, APR/1869-SEPT/1869 ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Don Kostuch
 
 
 
@@ -208,7 +186,7 @@ Produced by Don Kostuch
 
 
   Allies's Formation of Christendom, 283.
-  Anne Séverin, 286.
+  Anne Séverin, 286.
   Auerbach's Black Forest, 424.
   Ark of the Covenant, The, 427.
   Ark of Elm Island, 428.
@@ -237,7 +215,7 @@ Produced by Don Kostuch
 
   Free Masons, The, 426.
   Fernecliffe, 428.
-  Fénélon's Conversations with de Ramsai, 573.
+  Fénélon's Conversations with de Ramsai, 573.
 
   Glimpses of Pleasant Homes, 423.
 
@@ -257,7 +235,7 @@ Produced by Don Kostuch
   McClure's Poems, 288.
   Manual of General History, 288.
   Martineau's Biographical Sketches, 425.
-  Müller's Chips from a German Workshop, 571.
+  Müller's Chips from a German Workshop, 571.
   Mental Photographs, 576.
   Mother Margaret M. Hallahan, Life of, 714.
   Meditations on the Suffering of our Lord Jesus Christ, 856.
@@ -364,7 +342,7 @@ and astonished at her matchless learning.
 
 All the students of Rome, and even professors, flocked to hear
 her. On the death of Leo, she was elected pope by the clergy and
-people of Rome from among many men preëminent for their learning
+people of Rome from among many men preëminent for their learning
 and virtue. After governing with great wisdom for more than two
 years--there being not the slightest suspicion of her sex--she
 left the Vatican on a certain festival at the head of the clergy,
@@ -481,7 +459,7 @@ of which a polemic writer is alone capable, for every--even the
 smallest--fragment or thread connected with this subject.
 Nevertheless, this ransacking was neither so thorough nor so
 successful as during the present century; for, as the learned
-Döllinger states, "it is only within forty years that all the
+Döllinger states, "it is only within forty years that all the
 European collections of mediaeval MSS. have been investigated
 with unprecedented care, every library, nook, and corner
 thoroughly searched, and a surprising quantity of hitherto
@@ -507,7 +485,7 @@ positive assertion.
 But the testimony of the Marianus chronicle comes to still
 greater grief, And here a word of explanation. The Original MS.
 Of Marianus is not known to exist, but we have numerous copies of
-it, the respective ages of which are well ascertained. Döllinger
+it, the respective ages of which are well ascertained. Döllinger
 mentions two of them well known in Germany to be the oldest in
 existence, in which not a word concerning the popess can be
 found. The copy in which it is found is of 1513, and the
@@ -616,8 +594,8 @@ public nature not mentioned by any writer within two hundred
 years of its supposed occurrence is not to be believed. This is
 the same Launoy who waged war on the legends of the saints,
 claiming that much fabulous matter had crept into them. On this
-account he was called "Dénicheur des Saints"--the Saint-hunter or
-router--and the Abbé of St. Roch used to say, "I am always
+account he was called "Dénicheur des Saints"--the Saint-hunter or
+router--and the Abbé of St. Roch used to say, "I am always
 profoundly polite to Launoy, for fear he will deprive me of St.
 Roch." The general rule (Launoy's) so important in historical
 criticism is in perfect harmony with a great and leading
@@ -649,7 +627,7 @@ century. This method is entirely broken up in those MSS. which
 contain the passage concerning Joan, and the rage to get the
 passage in was such that in one copy (the Heidelberg MS.)
 Benedict III. is left out entirely and Joan put in his place. Dr.
-Döllinger and the learned Bayle concur in the opinion that the
+Döllinger and the learned Bayle concur in the opinion that the
 passage never had any existence in the original work of Polonus.
 
 And just at this juncture the testimony of Tolomeo di Lucca
@@ -746,11 +724,11 @@ of the popess.
 Suddenly we find extraordinary industry exercised in multiplying
 and spreading the copies of Polonus containing the story, and in
 inserting it in other chronicles that did not contain it. As the
-editors of the _Histoire Littéraire e France_ aptly remark:
+editors of the _Histoire Littéraire e France_ aptly remark:
 "Nous ne saurions nous expliquer comment il se fait que ce soit
-précisëment dans les rangs de cette fidèle milice du saint-siège
-que se rencontrent les propagateurs les plus naïfs, et peut-être
-les inventeurs, d'une histoire si injurieuse à la papauté."
+précisëment dans les rangs de cette fidèle milice du saint-siège
+que se rencontrent les propagateurs les plus naïfs, et peut-être
+les inventeurs, d'une histoire si injurieuse à la papauté."
 [Footnote 4]
 
     [Footnote 4: "We cannot understand how it is that, precisely
@@ -758,7 +736,7 @@ les inventeurs, d'une histoire si injurieuse à la papauté."
     find the most credulous propagators and, perhaps, inventors
     of a story so injurious to the papacy."]
 
-Dr. Döllinger answers this by stating that those who appeared to
+Dr. Döllinger answers this by stating that those who appeared to
 be most active in the matter were Dominicans and Minorites,
 particularly the former, (Sie waren es ja, besonders die ersten.)
 This is specially to be remarked under the primacy of Boniface
@@ -850,7 +828,7 @@ have succeeded Leo IV.
 
 {9}
 
-Lupo, Abbot of Ferrières, in a letter to Pope Benedict, says that
+Lupo, Abbot of Ferrières, in a letter to Pope Benedict, says that
 he, the abbot, had been kindly received at Rome by his
 predecessor, Leo IV.
 
@@ -1084,7 +1062,7 @@ with great show of learning, espoused Joan's claims to existence.
 Nor were answers wanting; and, including those who had previously
 written on the subject, it was fully confuted by Aventinus,
 Onuphrius Pauvinius, Bellarmine, Serrarius, George Scherer,
-Robert Parsons, Florimond de Rémond, Allatius, and many others.
+Robert Parsons, Florimond de Rémond, Allatius, and many others.
 
 The first Protestant to cast doubt on the fable was David
 Blondel. A minister of the Reformed Church, Professor of History
@@ -1124,7 +1102,7 @@ falsehood.
 There was no dearth of other Protestant protests against Joan.
 Casaubon, the most learned of the so-called reformers, laughed at
 the fable. So did Thuanus. Justus Lipsius said of it, "Revera
-fabella est haud longè ab audacia et ineptis poetarum." [Footnote
+fabella est haud longè ab audacia et ineptis poetarum." [Footnote
 6] Schookius, professor at Groningen, totally disbelieved it. Dr.
 Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury, said, "I don't believe the history
 of Pope Joan," and gives his reasons. So, also, Dr. Bristow. Very
@@ -1177,7 +1155,7 @@ passes over the Joan story with contemptuous silence.
     [Footnote 8: Sept. 29, 855.]
 
 In his _Papst-Fabeln des Mittelalters_, the learned Dr.
-Döllinger has exhausted the erudition of the subject, and not
+Döllinger has exhausted the erudition of the subject, and not
 only demonstrated the utter unworthiness of the invention, but--
 what is for the first time done by him--points out the causes or
 sources of all the separate portions of the narrative. Thus, the
@@ -1443,7 +1421,7 @@ souls, and an admirable spirit of charity; and, besides all this,
 a divine and superior power. God will, as ever, accomplish his
 work there.
 
-"God," says Fénélon, "watches that the bishops may assemble when
+"God," says Fénélon, "watches that the bishops may assemble when
 it is necessary, that they may be sufficiently instructed and
 attentive, and that no bad motive may induce those who are the
 guardians of the truth to make an untrue statement. There may be
@@ -3125,8 +3103,8 @@ really fine, grounds worth looking at, and a stone house with
 bronze lions at the door. I don't know what he has lions there
 for, unless to indicate that Snug the joiner lives within. I'm
 not afraid of 'em. You've never heard of him here; but out there
-he is tremendous. '_Imposteur à la Mecque, et prophète à
-Médine_.'
+he is tremendous. '_Imposteur à la Mecque, et prophète à
+Médine_.'
 
 "Still there are people even here who blow about him. Psaphon's
 birds, of course, fed on Smith's oats, He hates me because he
@@ -4485,7 +4463,7 @@ In France, it is just the other way. The rate is,
   In Paris,                   27.
   Urban districts,            12.
   Rural districts              4.2
-  La Vendée,                   2.2
+  La Vendée,                   2.2
   Brittany, Dep't. Cote D'Or,  1.2
 
 Brittany and La Vendee remained Catholic through the storm of the
@@ -4505,7 +4483,7 @@ Posen. [Footnote 37] The rate
   Rhineland,        3.3   Pomerania,         10.3
   Posen             6.8   Brandenburg,       12.0
 
-    [Footnote 37: _Historische Blätter_, 9th Heft, 1867.]
+    [Footnote 37: _Historische Blätter_, 9th Heft, 1867.]
 
 Rev. T. W. Woolsey, of Yale College, New Haven, bears testimony
 to this relative state of morals in regard to the kindred subject
@@ -5262,7 +5240,7 @@ obliged to wear a last year's dress; but last year's dress was a
 very elegant one, and almost "as good as new;" for Mary, fine
 lady that she was, had the taste and grace of her station, and
 deft fingers, quick and willing servants of her will, that would
-do honor to any station; so her dress was all _à la mode_,
+do honor to any station; so her dress was all _à la mode_,
 and Dick had reason to be proud of escorting her. She had,
 however, something more than her dress of which to be proud, or
 Dick would not have been so grateful for finding her his sister;
@@ -5503,24 +5481,24 @@ A careful computation of the comparative longevity, in the
 different departments of France, has been made for 1860 and the
 preceding years. The medium annual number of deaths in France, at
 the age of one hundred years and upward, is 148. The following
-fifteen _départements_, given in decreasing order, are those
+fifteen _départements_, given in decreasing order, are those
 which have the greatest number: Basses-Pyrenees, Dordogne,
-Calvados, Gers, Puy-de-Dôme, Ariége, Aveyron, Gironde, Landes,
-Lot, Ardèche, Cantal, Doubs, Seine, Tarn-et-Garonne. It will be
+Calvados, Gers, Puy-de-Dôme, Ariége, Aveyron, Gironde, Landes,
+Lot, Ardèche, Cantal, Doubs, Seine, Tarn-et-Garonne. It will be
 seen that a great number of mountainous districts are to be found
 in these departments. It is surprising to see that of _la
 Seine_ on this list. Nevertheless these departments do not
 hold the same rank in respect to the ordinary duration of life;
 which would seem to prove that some examples of extreme longevity
 are not a sufficient index that a country is favorable to long
-life. I give their numbers in order: Basses-Pyrénées, 7;
-Dordogne, 42; Calvados, 2; Gers, 9; Puy-de-Dôme, 30; Ariége, 48;
-Aveyron, 34; Gironde, 18; Landes, 52; Lot, 33; Ardèche, 43;
+life. I give their numbers in order: Basses-Pyrénées, 7;
+Dordogne, 42; Calvados, 2; Gers, 9; Puy-de-Dôme, 30; Ariége, 48;
+Aveyron, 34; Gironde, 18; Landes, 52; Lot, 33; Ardèche, 43;
 Cantal, 23; Doubs, 25; Seine, 53; Tarn-et-Garonne, 13.
 
 The fifteen departments in which ordinary life is most prolonged
 are: Orne, Calvados, Eure-et-Loir, Sarthe, Eure, Lot-et-Garonne,
-Deux-Sèvres, Indre-et-Loire, Basses-Pyrenees, Maine-et-Loire,
+Deux-Sèvres, Indre-et-Loire, Basses-Pyrenees, Maine-et-Loire,
 Ardennes, Gers, Aube, Hautes-Pyrenees, et Haute-Garonne.
 
 It is evident that places need not be very remote from each other
@@ -5575,7 +5553,7 @@ frost, (which rendered him furious,) the king would have him
 assassinated; and this really happened on the twenty-third of
 December, 1588.
 
-The Duchess d'Abrantès says:
+The Duchess d'Abrantès says:
 
   "Napoleon could not endure the least cold without immediate
   suffering. He had fires made in the month of July, and did not
@@ -5587,7 +5565,7 @@ The Duchess d'Abrantès says:
   other cause had prevented him from taking his accustomed walk,
   he was not only cross but suffering."
 
-We read in the Journal of Eugénie de Guerin:
+We read in the Journal of Eugénie de Guerin:
 
   "With the rain, cold winds, wintry skies, the nightingales
   singing from time to time under the dead leaves, we have a
@@ -5609,8 +5587,8 @@ constitute not only the highest physical enjoyment but the
 indispensable conditions of health.
 
 The physical character of places has a truly astonishing effect
-upon man. A distinguished traveller, M. Trémaux, has endeavored
-to prove, in several _mémoires_ to the Académie des
+upon man. A distinguished traveller, M. Trémaux, has endeavored
+to prove, in several _mémoires_ to the Académie des
 Sciences, that man be changed from the Caucasian to the negro
 type simply by this influence. He calls attention to the
 coincidences that exist between the physical types and the
@@ -5626,7 +5604,7 @@ causes of a more secondary nature which are very complex.
 
 {77}
 
-The geological chart of Europe, says Mr. Trémaux, shows that the
+The geological chart of Europe, says Mr. Trémaux, shows that the
 greatest surface of primitive rock formations is in Lapland,
 which possesses also the most inferior people; going to the south
 of Scandinavia, gneiss and granite occupy also a great part of
@@ -5709,7 +5687,7 @@ certain elevations in Thuringia and the Black Forest, was the
 first to advance the theory that phthisis diminishes according to
 certain altitudes.
 
-Dr. Brüggens, also, has since testified to the infrequency of
+Dr. Brüggens, also, has since testified to the infrequency of
 this disease in the Swiss Alps, at the height of 4500 to 6000
 feet in the Engaddine; nor is it found among the monks of the
 Great Saint Bernard at the altitude of 6825 feet. According to M.
@@ -5741,7 +5719,7 @@ wanting, is in a hygrometrical condition more nearly approaching
 saturation than the lower regions, and that the rains are also
 more abundant there.
 
-It is desirable that the heights of Cévennes, the Pyrenees, the
+It is desirable that the heights of Cévennes, the Pyrenees, the
 Alps, and, above all, the elevated parts of our Algerian
 possessions should be carefully studied, with a view to the
 treatment of lung diseases, which are the great scourge of the
@@ -5809,7 +5787,7 @@ prove the constancy and generality of the rule laid down by M.
 Junod. He noticed in most of the large cities this tendency of
 the wealthy class to move to the same side--generally, the
 western--unless hindered by certain local obstacles. Turin,
-Liége, and Caen are examples of this. M. Moquin-Tandon has
+Liége, and Caen are examples of this. M. Moquin-Tandon has
 observed the same thing at Montpellier and at Toulouse. Paris and
 London also present analogous facts, although the rivers which
 traverse those two great centres flow in a diametrically
@@ -5868,7 +5846,7 @@ almost on a level with the sea, is the part principally
 inhabited. There are few villages in the interior of the island,
 but many private residences. The temperature on the shore, though
 very high, is less intense than is supposed: the medium
-temperature being between 40° and 50°. The sea and land breezes,
+temperature being between 40° and 50°. The sea and land breezes,
 which succeed each other morning and evening, refresh the
 atmosphere and maintain a healthy moisture. It hardly ever rains
 except during the winter, Besides, it is very easy to choose the
@@ -5889,8 +5867,8 @@ dwellings at one's choice, in some one of which desirable
 temperature can be enjoyed in any season.
 {81}
 I had three: one at St. Denis, capital of the colony, one at La
-Rivière-des-Pluies, and another at La Ressource. La
-Rivière-des-Pluies, belonging to M. Desbassayns, a venerable old
+Rivière-des-Pluies, and another at La Ressource. La
+Rivière-des-Pluies, belonging to M. Desbassayns, a venerable old
 man and president of the general council, is the finest situation
 on the island. It was formerly called the Versailles of Bourbon.
 I inhabited a summer-house above which the surrounding trees
@@ -5923,7 +5901,7 @@ clearly out, like silver clouds, the white sails from all parts
 of the world which had given each other _rendezvous_ here,
 and were constantly approaching this isle of lava, flowers,
 shadows, and light, which they had taken as the centre of
-_réunion_.
+_réunion_.
 
 He made me afterward notice the verdant fields which had formerly
 belonged to the parents of Virginia, the heroine of the romance
@@ -6126,7 +6104,7 @@ thinking of this coincidence, noticed, on the other hand, that
 the hill behind the marsh entirely concealed the fine view which
 he would have from his palace, if it were removed. He gave orders
 to cut the hill down and to fill up the marsh with its
-_débris_, so that the winds which were formerly checked, had
+_débris_, so that the winds which were formerly checked, had
 free circulation and purified the atmosphere, while the soil,
 thoroughly modified, ceased to emit the pestilential effluvia,
 Since that event the plague has not reappeared. A caprice of the
@@ -6153,7 +6131,7 @@ disease and death.
 
 The hygienic condition of different countries, then, may be
 modified in various ways. In 1698, Bigot de Molville, president
-_à mortier_ of the Parliament of Normandy, found, after
+_à mortier_ of the Parliament of Normandy, found, after
 careful research, that, of all the cities of France, Rouen
 possessed the greatest number of octogenarians and centenarians.
 Toward the middle of the last century this superiority was
@@ -6351,7 +6329,7 @@ saintly character.
 It refers to the _Philosophoumena_, a work published a few
 years ago by M. E. Miller, of Paris, variously attributed to
 Origen, to St. Hippolytus, bishop of Porto, near Rome, to Caius,
-a Roman Presbyter, and to Tertullian. The late Abbé Cruice--an
+a Roman Presbyter, and to Tertullian. The late Abbé Cruice--an
 Irishman by birth, we believe, but brought up and naturalized in
 France, where he was, shortly before his death, promoted to the
 episcopate--a profoundly learned man and an acute critic, has
@@ -6372,7 +6350,7 @@ Pope Pius IX. now gloriously reigning. [Footnote 43]
 
     [Footnote 43: _Vide Histoire de l'Eglise de Rome sous les
     Pontificats de St. Victor, de St. Zephirin, et St.
-    Calliste_. Par L'Abbé M. P. Cruice. Paris: Didot Frères.
+    Calliste_. Par L'Abbé M. P. Cruice. Paris: Didot Frères.
     1856.]
 
 When the magazine has nothing else to allege against the popes,
@@ -7105,7 +7083,7 @@ circle. The old master of German art remained a life-long friend
 of hers and warmly attached to her. Among her more intimate
 companions, she numbered also the two Eberhards, Heinrich Hess,
 Franz von Baader. Somewhat later, by the transfer of the
-university to Munich, were added to these Schubert, Görres,
+university to Munich, were added to these Schubert, Görres,
 Schelling, Lasaulx. Also the two Boiseree, who in the autumn of
 1827 came to Munich with their art collection, which had been
 purchased by King Louis, were soon numbered among her nearer
@@ -7464,7 +7442,7 @@ stood in friendly exchange of views with Proske of Regensburg, a
 profound student of ancient church music. Sometimes musical
 gatherings were held, to which Ett brought singing-boys from the
 choir of St. Michael's Church: ancient religious cantatas, the
-compositions of Orlando di Lasso, Handel, Abbé Vogler's hymns,
+compositions of Orlando di Lasso, Handel, Abbé Vogler's hymns,
 and the like, were performed. Conrad Eberhard, an enthusiastic
 admirer of music and of the master Ett, who with Schlotthauer
 regularly attended the historical lectures on music, in his
@@ -7774,7 +7752,7 @@ Dogma or, Social-Philosophic Treatise_. He regarded it as a
 pleasant duty to acquaint her from time to time with his literary
 labors: and she spared herself to no trouble to follow even such
 grave and abstruse topics. He succeeded in specially interesting
-her in Jacob Böhme. Her intelligent remarks on Baader's article
+her in Jacob Böhme. Her intelligent remarks on Baader's article
 upon the doctrine of justification led him to remark that her
 letter afforded him a more satisfactory proof than many a
 criticism that he had succeeded in reaching both the head and the
@@ -7924,7 +7902,7 @@ Schwanthaler, and then remarks:
   the noble Swiss, Emily. At all times and in all places, in
   larger as in smaller social circles, will each with pleasure
   thus recall that grand life-picture, which was similarly
-  presented to a former generation at Münster, in the fair friend
+  presented to a former generation at Münster, in the fair friend
   of Hamann, of Stolberg, of Claudius."
 
 Emily Linder was certainly the first, in her deep humility, to
@@ -7957,7 +7935,7 @@ art-loving woman in the repose of her home:
    of Overbeck also embellished. And, where the organ awaited the
    skilful fingers, a Madonna of the school of Leonardo da Vinci
    smiled from the wall, while the little side-altar encased a
-   drawing of Albrecht Dürer. I found, also, in the house of this
+   drawing of Albrecht Dürer. I found, also, in the house of this
    lady a portrait of Maria Mori, in the Tyrol, admirably drawn
    by her friend, the well-known lady artist, Ellenrieder,
    somewhat idealized; a profile, with folded hands; long, brown,
@@ -8023,7 +8001,7 @@ royalist volunteers, and after preparing himself for the campaign
 by receiving holy communion, marched with his command toward the
 Spanish frontier. His company belonged to that unlucky detachment
 under General Barbarin, which was surprised and cut to pieces at
-Hélette, in the Lower Pyrénées. General Barbarin fell, severely
+Hélette, in the Lower Pyrénées. General Barbarin fell, severely
 wounded, and would have fallen into the enemy's hands, when De
 Ravignan rushed forward through the fire and attempted to carry
 him off the field. It was a generous but desperate act, which
@@ -8047,8 +8025,8 @@ not satisfied with the reading necessary for his profession,
 applied himself closely to the German and English languages, and
 such lighter accomplishments as drawing and music. In due time he
 was appointed a _conseiller auditeur_ in the royal court of
-Paris, then under the presidency of Séguier. The influence of the
-Duke d'Angoulême got him the appointment--not, however, without
+Paris, then under the presidency of Séguier. The influence of the
+Duke d'Angoulême got him the appointment--not, however, without
 some difficulty--and his colleagues received him coldly. He
 awaited his time in patience, beginning each day by hearing Mass,
 and studying thoroughly, systematically, and indefatigably. At
@@ -8061,7 +8039,7 @@ the appointed day the "young gentleman" presented a clear and
 logical report, and delivered it with a perfection of utterance
 which caused the whole court to listen with astonishment. His
 success at the bar was assured from that moment, and soon
-afterward he was appointed deputy _procureur général_.
+afterward he was appointed deputy _procureur général_.
 
 His life at this time presents a curious and instructive study.
 He devoted a part of each day regularly to religious exercises;
@@ -8121,7 +8099,7 @@ know beforehand what I must do: I have only to choose the most
 difficult course." In the scholasticate, he was known by the
 _sobriquet_ of "Iron Bar." When the time came for his
 admission to holy orders, after nearly four years passed in the
-scholasticate at Paris and at Dôle, he was sent with five other
+scholasticate at Paris and at Dôle, he was sent with five other
 candidates to the Diocesan Seminary at Orgelet, where the
 sacrament of ordination was to be administered. Before the party
 set out, Brother de Ravignan was appointed superior for the
@@ -8331,7 +8309,7 @@ result of his experiment as follows:
   "On Good-Friday the Passion sermon exhausted my strength; the
   following day I had no voice left. I was unable to give the
   closing instruction of the retreat on Holy Saturday. I wrote a
-  scrap of a note to inform the Curé of Saint-Eustache, and he
+  scrap of a note to inform the Curé of Saint-Eustache, and he
   bethought him of reading it from the pulpit. All went off
   quietly; the people waited for benediction and went home."
 
@@ -8452,7 +8430,7 @@ day which does not appear in connection with his. Madame
 Swetchine was one of his co-laborers. Madame de la Ferronnays,
 whose charming life has recently been told under the title of
 _A Sister's Story_, was his devoted friend. Chateaubriand,
-Count Molé, Walckenaër, Camper the celebrated navigator, Marshal
+Count Molé, Walckenaër, Camper the celebrated navigator, Marshal
 St. Arnaud, General Cavaignac, Prince Demidoff, Montalembert, De
 Falloux, and Bishop Dupanloup--these are some of the illustrious
 names which occur most frequently in his correspondence. A
@@ -9186,7 +9164,7 @@ citizens of a self-governing nation shall receive sufficient
 intellectual culture to enable them to discharge their duties
 understandingly;" but the state has no right to say that its
 pupils shall take their knowledge and form their opinions of the
-great moral events of history from D'Aubigné or from Cardinal
+great moral events of history from D'Aubigné or from Cardinal
 Bellarmin. It was this that troubled the great Catholic and
 Protestant governments of Europe, until experience discovered to
 them the simple solution of the difficulty which we are so
@@ -9232,7 +9210,7 @@ upon the highway of your republican progress, poisoning the
 fountains of your national life? Or will you prefer, in the
 spirit of your institutions, to respect their conscientious
 opinions, and to enable them, in the manner we have already
-indicated, to coöperate with you in the full development of your
+indicated, to coöperate with you in the full development of your
 great and noble policy of universal popular education?
 
 But, is it true that the Catholic people have no substantial
@@ -9563,7 +9541,7 @@ hackney coaches were still too high for the public generally, and
 they consequently did not meet with the success anticipated. At
 length, in 1662, appeared the really cheap and popular
 conveyance--the omnibus--under the patronage of the Duke of
-Roanès the Marquis of Sourches, and the Marquis of Crenan. These
+Roanès the Marquis of Sourches, and the Marquis of Crenan. These
 noblemen solicited and obtained letters patent for a great
 speculation--carriages to contain eight persons, at five sous the
 seat, and running at fixed hours on specified routes.
@@ -9665,13 +9643,13 @@ Madame Perier writes as follows:
   "The shopkeepers of the Rue St. Denis demanded a route with so
   much importunity that they even spoke of presenting a petition.
   Preparations were being made to give them one next week; but
-  yesterday morning M. de Roanès, M. de Crenan, and M. the High
+  yesterday morning M. de Roanès, M. de Crenan, and M. the High
   Provost (M. de Sourches) being all three at the Louvre, the
   king talked very pleasantly about the novelty, and addressing
   those gentlemen, said,' And _our_ route, will you not soon
   establish it?'
 {138}
-  These words oblige them to think of the Rue St. Honoré, and to
+  These words oblige them to think of the Rue St. Honoré, and to
   defer for some days the Rue St. Denis. Besides this, the king,
   speaking on the same subject, said that he desired that all
   those who were guilty of the slightest insolence should be
@@ -9704,11 +9682,11 @@ last lines he ever traced: he died in August of the same year:
   their weapons. I have no more paper. Adieu--entirely yours."
 
 Sauval affirms that Pascal was the inventor of this cheap coach,
-and Madame de Sévigné seems to allude to the enterprise in a
+and Madame de Sévigné seems to allude to the enterprise in a
 passage of one of her letters which commences "_apropos_ of
 Pascal." It is certain that he and his sister were pecuniarily
 interested in the speculation, and it is more than probable that
-it was he who induced his rich friend the Duke of Roanès, to take
+it was he who induced his rich friend the Duke of Roanès, to take
 so prominent a part in the undertaking. But we must not consider
 Pascal in the light of a vulgar speculator--earthly interests
 affected him but little personally--deeds of charity, the many
@@ -9764,7 +9742,7 @@ coaches," etc., etc.
 
 The first route was opened on the 18th of March; the second on
 the 11th of April, running from the Rue Saint Antoine to the Rue
-Saint Honoré, as high as St. Roch's church. On this second
+Saint Honoré, as high as St. Roch's church. On this second
 opening, a placard announced to the citizens that the directors
 "had received advice of some inconveniences that might annoy
 persons desirous of making use of their conveyances, such, for
@@ -9825,8 +9803,8 @@ he had made their horoscope and given them to the publicunder a
 certain constellation whose bad influences he knew how to turn
 aside."
 
-    [Footnote 48: Henri-Jules de Bourbon-Condé, son of the great
-    Condé.]
+    [Footnote 48: Henri-Jules de Bourbon-Condé, son of the great
+    Condé.]
 
 We can give no description of this ancient omnibus; no drawing or
 engraving of it is believed to exist; but it is probable that it
@@ -10743,7 +10721,7 @@ elections, they would be quietly and decorously conducted; that
 her presence would do more than a whole army of police officials
 to maintain order, to banish all fighting, drinking, profane
 swearing, venality, and corruption. This would undoubtedly be, to
-some extent, the case, if, under the new _régime_, men
+some extent, the case, if, under the new _régime_, men
 should retain the same chivalric respect for women that they now
 have. Men now regard women as placed in some sort under their
 protection, or the safeguard of their honor. But when she insists
@@ -11105,7 +11083,7 @@ that you will like us."
 
 {158}
 
-This wish was expressed in a manner so _naïve_ and earnest
+This wish was expressed in a manner so _naïve_ and earnest
 that Margaret could but smile in making answer that she was quite
 prepared to be pleased with everything, and that her only fear
 was lest she might disturb the harmony of their circle--not by
@@ -12398,7 +12376,7 @@ other criticisms which have been made in various periodicals.
   and drag it to the same destruction.
 
   "The plan of the work is curious. It begins with the primary
-  cognitions of the mind, and goes forward with an _à priori
+  cognitions of the mind, and goes forward with an _à priori
   _ argument for the existence of God: that if God exists, he
   must necessarily exist in Trinity; must create just such a
   universe; must be incarnate in the Second Person; must redeem a
@@ -13016,7 +12994,7 @@ certain dark points of Christian doctrine; who are in earnest,
 and willing to take the time and trouble necessary for learning
 the truth. Such persons, if they read only English, will find all
 that is requisite, in addition to the citations made in the
-_Problems of the Age_, in _Möhler's Symbolism_.
+_Problems of the Age_, in _Möhler's Symbolism_.
 Scholars and theologians may satisfy themselves more fully by the
 aid of the collection of dogmatic and doctrinal decrees contained
 in Denziger's _Enchiridion_, and of the theologies of
@@ -13874,7 +13852,7 @@ little! To-day is also the anniversary of my birthday into the
 Catholic Church, and now it is my birthday into Catholic Spain!
 "La tierra de Maria Santisima."
 
-Leaving Perpignan (in the Pyrénées Orientales) by diligence, we
+Leaving Perpignan (in the Pyrénées Orientales) by diligence, we
 pass through a most tropical looking country, amidst hedges of
 aloe, and oleander, and pomegranates, (reminding one of Texas in
 the character of the soil, the productions, and even the houses;)
@@ -13890,7 +13868,7 @@ side the mountains, is the last French town; high above which
 towers the fortress of Bellegarde, built by Louis XIV. in 1679.
 Just outside this town we pass a granite pyramid, on which is
 written "Gallia." A fellow-passenger tells us we are on Spanish
-soil. All cry, "Viva España!" and we look out upon a
+soil. All cry, "Viva España!" and we look out upon a
 solemn-looking soldier, who stands by a cantonnier, above which
 floats the red and yellow flag of Spain. La Junguera is the first
 Spanish town; and here is a rival fort to the towering French one
@@ -13921,7 +13899,7 @@ night.
 {200}
 
 Gerona appeared with the early dawn; a curious old town of 14,000
-inhabitants, on the river Oña, and looking not unlike Rome with
+inhabitants, on the river Oña, and looking not unlike Rome with
 its yellow river, its tall houses, and balconies. Both this town
 and Figueras have made themselves memorable in wars and sieges.
 Indeed, what Spanish town has not its tale of heroism and brave
@@ -14151,7 +14129,7 @@ of the Fort Montuich, built upon a high rock. There is also a
 citadel near the sea, and a beautiful promenade upon the walls,
 (Muralea del Mar.) And amongst the public buildings is a
 university, said to be the finest in Spain; many hospitals and
-charitable institutions, and a theatre (the Lycée) which they
+charitable institutions, and a theatre (the Lycée) which they
 claim to be larger than San Carlo, in Naples, the Scala, in
 Milan, or even the new-opera house in Paris. Barcelona is the
 birthplace of Balmes, the author of that great work,
@@ -14420,14 +14398,14 @@ Hans Andersen, in his little book on Spain, says:
   the country which he was mainly instrumental in rescuing from
   the infidels. As a conqueror he entered Valencia, and here
   lived with his noble and heroic wife, Zimena, and his
-  daughters, Doña Sol and Doña Elvira; and here he died in 1099.
+  daughters, Doña Sol and Doña Elvira; and here he died in 1099.
   Here stood around his bed of death all who were dear to him.
   Even his very warhorse, Babieca, was ordered to be called
   thither. In song, it is said that the horse stood like a lamb,
   and gazed with his large eyes upon his master, who could no
   more speak than the poor horse himself. ... Through the streets
   of Valencia passed at night the extraordinary cavalcade to San
-  Peder de Cordoña, which the departed chief had desired should
+  Peder de Cordoña, which the departed chief had desired should
   be his burial-place. The victorious colors of the Cid were
   carried in front. Four hundred knights protected them. Then
   came the corpse. Upright upon his war-horse sat the dead;
@@ -14435,7 +14413,7 @@ Hans Andersen, in his little book on Spain, says:
   white beard flowing down to his breast.
 
   "Gil Diaz and Bishop Jeronymo escorted the body on either side;
-  then followed Doña Zimena with three hundred noblemen. The gate
+  then followed Doña Zimena with three hundred noblemen. The gate
   of Valencia toward Castile was opened, and the procession
   passed silently and slowly out into the open fields, where the
   Moorish army was encamped. A dark Moorish woman shot at them a
@@ -14853,7 +14831,7 @@ such authority for faith. He says:
   Even in that precept which many will be swift to quote against
   us in this connection,'Obey them that have the rule over you,
   and submit yourselves,' it is first true that these 'rulers,'
-  as the context proves, are mere (_hëgoumenön_) leaders,
+  as the context proves, are mere (_hëgoumenön_) leaders,
   and men of example who were already dead, with no flavor of
   potentiality therefore about them; whose 'faith' is to be
   imitated rather than whose commands are to be submitted to; and
@@ -15435,9 +15413,9 @@ remain for ever closed to one." The life and the visions of
 Katharina Emmerich, which he read aloud on her weekly
 reading-evenings, made a profound impression upon her. As though
 in confirmation of what she heard, she saw with her own eyes at
-Kaldern a similar phenomenon in Maria von Mörl, that astounding
+Kaldern a similar phenomenon in Maria von Mörl, that astounding
 living wonder, and was penetrated with the atmosphere of truth
-with which, as Gorres expresses it, Maria von Mörl seemed
+with which, as Gorres expresses it, Maria von Mörl seemed
 enveloped. She caused a portrait of this phenomenon to be
 executed by her lady friend, Ellenrieder; and always gladly gave
 her visitors (as is stated by Emma Niendorf) a full description
@@ -15688,8 +15666,8 @@ the 29th of November, 1843:
   unrest which has thus loosed itself in the simple and welcome
   words,'I will enter the church.' But you have every reason to
   be at rest; for a church which has given birth to a Wittman, a
-  Sailer, a Fénélon, a Vincent de Paul, a Tauler, a Suso, a
-  Thérèse, a Bernard, an Augustine, an Athanasius, a Polycarp,
+  Sailer, a Fénélon, a Vincent de Paul, a Tauler, a Suso, a
+  Thérèse, a Bernard, an Augustine, an Athanasius, a Polycarp,
   and so on, up to the apostles themselves, and which has nursed
   them on her breast with the self-same heavenly doctrine; from
   whose mouth and from whose life, in turn, this same identical
@@ -15734,7 +15712,7 @@ herself their prayers.
 On the 4th of December, 1843, Emily Linder, accompanied by her
 friend Apollonia, in the Georgian Seminary chapel made solemn
 profession of the Catholic faith. On the day following, the papal
-nuncio, Viale Prelà, administered to her, in his house-chapel the
+nuncio, Viale Prelà, administered to her, in his house-chapel the
 sacrament of confirmation; delivering, at the same time, an
 eloquent address in German. The friend before mentioned was
 godmother, and, as one present remarked, by her faith, her love,
@@ -16018,7 +15996,7 @@ series of glorious creations. Several of these, like the
 "Manger-Festival of St. Francis," the "Legend of St. Marina,"
 were the source of some of Brentano's beautiful inspirations and
 are now included in his sacred poems. In addition to these
-artists were Schnorr, Schraudolph, Schwind, Führich, Neher,
+artists were Schnorr, Schraudolph, Schwind, Führich, Neher,
 Eberle, Ahlborn, Koch, etc. In another respect, also, she
 approved herself a true artist, namely, by rendering constant
 assistance to such pupils of the distinguished masters with whom
@@ -16067,7 +16045,7 @@ of social relations were not encouraging to any hope like this.
 But at just such a time, when outside life was forbidding, she
 found how grateful a definite aim and mission may be, and
 experienced the quiet delight of art and art-occupation more than
-ever. She thus writes from Pöhl, a favorite resort of hers in
+ever. She thus writes from Pöhl, a favorite resort of hers in
 summer, adjacent to the Ammersee, "I shall yet make a little tour
 in the Tyrol and then ensconce myself in winter quarters, where I
 shall be happy in a work already commenced and which will
@@ -16134,11 +16112,11 @@ thoughtful consideration loved to express itself in pleasant
 souvenirs and playful surprises of gifts; and her fidelity often
 extended even to the departed. Many a friend, after having passed
 to a long home, was endowed with a memorial Mass which she
-established for the repose of his soul. The Klee and Möhler
+established for the repose of his soul. The Klee and Möhler
 memorial, a composition of Steinle, copies of which she caused at
 her own expense to be made, she intended (an intention, indeed,
 never realized) as an aid to the establishment of a Klee and
-Möhler fund; and a lasting monument it would have proved to the
+Möhler fund; and a lasting monument it would have proved to the
 memory of these two noble men. For any expression of fidelity
 toward herself she was deeply grateful; particularly in her more
 advanced years, after she became more and more aware how rare a
@@ -16292,7 +16270,7 @@ imparted to her being and doing an indescribable grace, which is
 always the accompaniment of inward purity, and a religion based
 upon humility.
 
-The Abbé Haneberg, in his beautiful tribute at her grave,
+The Abbé Haneberg, in his beautiful tribute at her grave,
 remarked, "She seemed, during the last twenty years of her life,
 to emulate the most pious of her friends and daughters of Assisi,
 and to aim even to outdo them, so systematic and untiring was her
@@ -16319,7 +16297,7 @@ about it. But perhaps you were able to get no farther than the
 _mensa_; the _mensa Domini_ would naturally be enough
 for you." But she went farther than this. In her manuscripts were
 found Latin exercises, written under the guidance of the worthy
-old Bröber. One room of her spacious residence was arranged as a
+old Bröber. One room of her spacious residence was arranged as a
 chapel, in which was the superb altar-piece by Eberhard, "The
 Triumph of the Church." This chapel was favored by the ordinariat
 with a Mass licence. On the anniversary of her union with the
@@ -16416,9 +16394,9 @@ throngs of the poor, together with the superintendent of public
 charities, (then represented by the mayor of the city,) moved
 from the pleasant mansion on the corner of Carl street toward the
 cemetery, to render their last homage to this noble friend of art
-and the poor. The Abbé Haneberg, an old friend of hers,
+and the poor. The Abbé Haneberg, an old friend of hers,
 pronounced the benediction of the church over her grave, which
-was located not far from the grave of Möhler.
+was located not far from the grave of Möhler.
 {238}
 In her written instructions, Emily Linder desired only a simple
 stone cross above her, the pedestal of the cross bearing the
@@ -16623,22 +16601,22 @@ thus estimated by no less an authority than the English premier:
     spoliation.]
 
   "The commissioners appointed in 1868 estimated the annual value
-  at £616,000, but, with all respect for their long labors, he
+  at £616,000, but, with all respect for their long labors, he
   must differ from them, for they had placed it too low; for one
   of their body, in a subsequent publication, estimates it at
-  £835,000, but for the present purpose he would take it at
-  £700,000. The capitalized amount was as follows:
+  £835,000, but for the present purpose he would take it at
+  £700,000. The capitalized amount was as follows:
 
-    Tithe rent charge,                £9,000,000
-    Land,                             £6,250,000
-    Other property in money, etc.,      £750,000
-    Total,                           £16,000,000
+    Tithe rent charge,                £9,000,000
+    Land,                             £6,250,000
+    Other property in money, etc.,      £750,000
+    Total,                           £16,000,000
 
   The result is that the whole value of the ecclesiastical
   property of Ireland, reduced and cut down first of all by the
   almost unbounded waste of life tenants, and secondly by the
   wisdom or unwisdom of well-intentioned parliaments--the
-  remaining value is no less than £16,000,000 of money,
+  remaining value is no less than £16,000,000 of money,
   considerably more than on a former occasion I ventured to
   estimate, but then my means of information were smaller than
   they now are."
@@ -16675,7 +16653,7 @@ affect themselves as matters of mutual contract, but who will
 have no legal jurisdiction nor recognition except such as may be
 conferred by subsequent acts of parliament on local corporations.
 When we reflect that the prelates thus so unceremoniously thrust
-out of the Lords, and who with their _confrères_ are
+out of the Lords, and who with their _confrères_ are
 stripped of all extrajudicial authority, were, and still are, the
 most active promoters of the Act of Union and the fiercest
 opponents of its repeal, we cannot help admiring the poetic
@@ -16784,7 +16762,7 @@ life, or as long as such incumbent continues to perform the
 duties of such office; or such incumbent may commute his annuity
 in return for a certain payment in bulk, upon his own application
 and at the discretion of the commission. For these purposes the
-sum of about £5,000,000, or twenty-five millions of dollars, will
+sum of about £5,000,000, or twenty-five millions of dollars, will
 be required to be paid out of the assets in the hands of the
 commissioners. This amount divided between two thousand
 ecclesiastics would give an average of twelve thousand five
@@ -16819,19 +16797,19 @@ patient people. [Footnote 52]
     said 700,000 Anglicans in Ireland and 36,000,000 Catholics in
     France; that is, 51 times as many Catholics in France as
     Anglicans in Ireland. The budget therefore of Catholic
-    worship in France should be 51 times £800,000, or
-    £40,800,000, to write which is enough to show the monstrous
+    worship in France should be 51 times £800,000, or
+    £40,800,000, to write which is enough to show the monstrous
     iniquity of which Ireland has been the victim. The
     Presbyterians, numbering 523,291 persons, receive a _regium
-    donum_ for their ministers amounting to £40,547, and a
-    subsidy of £2050 for their theological college at Belfast,
-    making a total of £42,597. Protestant dissenters have no
+    donum_ for their ministers amounting to £40,547, and a
+    subsidy of £2050 for their theological college at Belfast,
+    making a total of £42,597. Protestant dissenters have no
     endowment, nor yet Catholics, excepting a subsidy to the
-    college at Maynooth of £26,360. Thus the Anglican
-    Establishment in Ireland has a revenue of about £800,000 for
-    700,000 persons, or about £1 3s. per head. The Presbyterians
-    receive from the government £42,597 for 523,291 persons, or
-    about 1s. 7 1/2d. per head. Catholics, £26,360 for 4,505,265
+    college at Maynooth of £26,360. Thus the Anglican
+    Establishment in Ireland has a revenue of about £800,000 for
+    700,000 persons, or about £1 3s. per head. The Presbyterians
+    receive from the government £42,597 for 523,291 persons, or
+    about 1s. 7 1/2d. per head. Catholics, £26,360 for 4,505,265
     persons, that is, LESS THAN ONE PENNY HALFPENNY per head.
 
     According to the last census, that of 1861, there were in
@@ -16887,7 +16865,7 @@ Ireland have been annually in the receipt of a limited sum of
 money called the _regium donum_. At first, as the term
 indicates, this was simply a gift from the crown, but of late
 years it has been regularly voted by parliament, and last year it
-amounted to £45,000. This grant is to be withdrawn; and as an
+amounted to £45,000. This grant is to be withdrawn; and as an
 equivalent, a sum of about four millions of dollars is to be
 capitalized by the commissioners, the annual interest of which
 will be nearly equal to the present donation. In addition to
@@ -16899,7 +16877,7 @@ Presbyterian college of Belfast.
 But the Catholics, who, notwithstanding the vast emigration of
 the last twenty-five years, form three fourths of the entire
 population, fare even worse than their dissenting brethren. The
-paltry grant of £26,000 to Maynooth College is to cease, and a
+paltry grant of £26,000 to Maynooth College is to cease, and a
 sum equal to less than a half of that appropriated to the
 Presbyterians is to be substituted, the interest only of which
 will be devoted to the support of that distinguished nursery of
@@ -16951,10 +16929,10 @@ become, in the truest sense, national.
 We now come to the matter of assets to be reduced into possession
 by the commissioners, out of which the several sums above
 mentioned are to be paid--assets which, according to Mr.
-Gladstone's estimates, will amount to £16,000,000, or eighty
+Gladstone's estimates, will amount to £16,000,000, or eighty
 million dollars.
 {246}
-Of this sum, £9,000,000, it is expected, will be derived from the
+Of this sum, £9,000,000, it is expected, will be derived from the
 commutation or obliteration of tithe rent charges; that is to
 say, the owners of lands from which tithes are now derived can,
 by the payment of a fixed sum to the commissioners, be for ever
@@ -17048,8 +17026,8 @@ with any particular denomination, as follows:
 
 The poor-law commissioners are to be entrusted with this capital
 sum, and the distribution of the annual revenue arising
-therefrom, which is calculated at £310,000. There are two very
-patent reasons for this distribution. Already the sum of £140,000
+therefrom, which is calculated at £310,000. There are two very
+patent reasons for this distribution. Already the sum of £140,000
 for similar purposes is annually raised by a tax called "county
 cess;" "a heavy tax, an increasing tax," says Mr. Gladstone, "and
 a tax not divided, like the poor law, between the owner and the
@@ -18328,7 +18306,7 @@ many who must have admired it before.
 
   "Blessed are they that claim no part
      In this world's pomp and laughter:
-   Blessèd the pure; the meek of heart
+   Blessèd the pure; the meek of heart
      Blest here; more blest hereafter.
   'Blessed the mourners.' Earthly goods
      Are woes, the master preaches:
@@ -18384,7 +18362,7 @@ America many of his best poems. The sonnets especially are as a
 rule well chosen. We miss many a lovely one, but we should miss
 these that are before us just as much. Mr. De Vere has also with
 excellent judgment honored with a place in this book his three
-charming idylls, "Glaucè," "Ione" and "Lycius"--among his very
+charming idylls, "Glaucè," "Ione" and "Lycius"--among his very
 finest pieces of word-painting, and which have more of the old
 classic mode of expression than any modern poems in our language
 save Landor's, and perhaps Tennyson's "OEnone." We wonder, by the
@@ -18432,7 +18410,7 @@ prove that Mr. De Vere's hand has not forgotten her cunning:
 This is very vivid, and the closing fancy extremely graceful and
 pleasing. Poplars, by the way, seem to be a favorite theme of our
 author. Every one familiar with his poems will recall another
-beautiful description in his idyll of "Glaucè," in which occur
+beautiful description in his idyll of "Glaucè," in which occur
 these lines:
 
                      "How indolently
@@ -18894,7 +18872,7 @@ Ermengarde or Sarah Elizabeth. But we do know that in this poem,
   "O cruel mockery, to call that love
    Which the world's frown can wither! Hypocrite!
    False friend! Base selfish man! fearing to lift
-   Thy soilèd fellow from the dust! _From thee
+   Thy soilèd fellow from the dust! _From thee
    The love of friends, the sympathy of kind
    Recoil like broken waves from a bare cliff,
    Waves that from far seas come with noiseless step
@@ -19700,7 +19678,7 @@ of religion. Some of their ablest men have passed over to our
 camp convinced by the pure force of argument, as, for instance,
 Thierry, Maine de Biran, Droz, and to a certain extent Cousin.
 Many others, and recently one most notorious individual, Jules
-Havin, the chief editor of the infamous _Siècle_, of Paris,
+Havin, the chief editor of the infamous _Siècle_, of Paris,
 have repented at the hour of death. D'Holbach, one of the chiefs
 of the infidel party in France, thus writes: "We must allow that
 corruption of manners, debauchery, license, and even frivolity of
@@ -19712,7 +19690,7 @@ matters more carefully. How can men, given up to voluptuousness
 and debauchery, plunged in excess, ambitious, intriguing,
 frivolous, and dissipated--or depraved women of wit and
 fashion--how can such as these be capable of forming an opinion
-of a religion they have never examined?" [Footnote 62] La Bruyère
+of a religion they have never examined?" [Footnote 62] La Bruyère
 says, "Do our _esprits forts_ know that they are called thus
 in irony?" [Footnote 63] It is no argument against either
 Catholicity or Protestantism that infidelity exists in Catholic
@@ -19736,10 +19714,10 @@ Christianity is in such a manner as completely to satisfy the
 just demands of human reason, or to justify their own position as
 seceders from the genuine Christendom.
 
-    [Footnote 62: _Système de la Nature_, tom. ii. c. 13.
+    [Footnote 62: _Système de la Nature_, tom. ii. c. 13.
     Cited on page 106. ]
 
-    [Footnote 63: _Les Caractères_, ch. xvi. Cited on page
+    [Footnote 63: _Les Caractères_, ch. xvi. Cited on page
     188.]
 
 Our own youth are exposed to the temptation of infidelity on
@@ -20026,9 +20004,9 @@ By James Parton. Swd. Pp. 76. 1869.
     Phenomena, and the various Theories regarding it. With a
     Survey of French Spiritism. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1869.
 
-    2. _Des Rapports de l'Homme avec le Démon_. Essai
+    2. _Des Rapports de l'Homme avec le Démon_. Essai
     Historique et Philosophique. Par Joseph Bizouard, Avocat.
-    Paris: Gaume Frères et J. Duprey. 1863 et 1864. Tome VI.,
+    Paris: Gaume Frères et J. Duprey. 1863 et 1864. Tome VI.,
     8vo.
 
     3. _The Spirit-Rapper. An Autobiography_. By o. A.
@@ -20959,7 +20937,7 @@ They wandered on the beach at evening, singing, talking, silent;
 or if in merry mood, skooning little flat stones over the water,
 and counting how many wave-tips they would trip before falling.
 
-"_Mon armant m'aime--un peu--beaucoup--passionnément--pas du
+"_Mon armant m'aime--un peu--beaucoup--passionnément--pas du
 tout!_" laughed Mrs. Lewis, seeing Miss Hamilton counting to
 herself. "You must only try that oracle in flower petals, my
 dear. To count it in salt water signifies tears."
@@ -21064,7 +21042,7 @@ writes of the 'arrowy certainty of Grecian phrases.' Woe is me! I
 cannot get at the point. I can only see the feathering."
 
 Margaret looked up with an exclamation from the book in her hand.
-"Listen! Coleridge, _à propos_ of having republished his
+"Listen! Coleridge, _à propos_ of having republished his
 earlier poems without correction, writes, 'I was afraid of
 disentangling the weed for fear of snapping the flower.'
 Snapping! only a poet would have chosen that word. The
@@ -21235,7 +21213,7 @@ the heart in the wrong place."
 
 {307}
 
-"Moses and Molière," thought Miss Hamilton, amused at the
+"Moses and Molière," thought Miss Hamilton, amused at the
 juxtaposition; then added aloud, "Christ pointed to the lilies of
 the field."
 
@@ -21610,7 +21588,7 @@ reason, the "papists" were allowed to rest unscathed in the
 family conversations.
 {312}
 It was the war; it was General Sinclair, sabre in hand, riding
-into battle as if it were a _féte_; it was the weather, a
+into battle as if it were a _féte_; it was the weather, a
 whole month of persistent and most illogical rain, pouring down
 through west winds, through dry moons, through red sunsets,
 through every sign that should bring clear skies, Taurus being
@@ -22718,7 +22696,7 @@ politics, science, art, repugnant not only to logic, but even to
 the instincts of common sense.
 
     [Footnote 67: See a golden work of the Princess Wittgenstein
-    Iwanowska, _Simplicité des Colombes, Prudence des
+    Iwanowska, _Simplicité des Colombes, Prudence des
     Serpents_, where she refutes the most common objections,
     and exhorts especially ladies to prudence and simplicity in
     controversy and conduct.]
@@ -22739,7 +22717,7 @@ are probably men of high intelligence, in error precisely on this
 account; perhaps persons of right mind, unimpeachable morals, and
 even of delicate sensibility.
 
-This is the arena of _conférences_. Fraysinnous began the
+This is the arena of _conférences_. Fraysinnous began the
 work of uniting religion with science in the pulpit. Those of
 Wiseman did better at Rome. Then arose the famous names of
 Lacordaire, Ravignan, and now of Fathers Felix and Hyacinthe,
@@ -22795,7 +22773,7 @@ even in this to believe it. To desire to invent a mechanical
 theory of the universe, a material origin of human intelligence
 and liberty, originates the anarchical conception of giving the
 explanation of the cosmological whole by means of every special
-science. Büchner and Vogt modified the Cartesian ideas by
+science. Büchner and Vogt modified the Cartesian ideas by
 teaching "that there is no force without matter, no matter
 without force; that matter thinks as well as moves; and that all
 things are but dynamic transformations of matter." Hence comes
@@ -23636,7 +23614,7 @@ Hence, the Latin fathers studied speech even to affectation,
 sought after rhetorical figures, yet always more attentive to the
 practical than to the abstract. The French formed themselves
 rather according to the Greek models; and the noble simplicity of
-Bossuet, Massilon, and Fénélon renders them still models for one
+Bossuet, Massilon, and Fénélon renders them still models for one
 who would discourse before a polished people.
 
 The Italians, if you except some of the very earliest preachers,
@@ -23734,12 +23712,12 @@ the plain, where are olive groves, and peaceful flocks, and
 ploughmen, as if no revolution were occurring around them. At
 Almovar, (situated on a high hill,) we see the ruins of a Moorish
 castle where that half-Moor, Peter the Cruel, confined his
-sister-in-law, Doña Juana de Lara. Carmona is another town which
+sister-in-law, Doña Juana de Lara. Carmona is another town which
 has the same celebrity. Here he imprisoned many of his female
 favorites when tired of them. We grow very hungry in spite of
 these tragic histories, and our young gentleman buys a great
 melon _de Castile_, which, proving very delicious, we make a
-good breakfast _à l'espagnol;_ but are not sorry to see the
+good breakfast _à l'espagnol;_ but are not sorry to see the
 towers of the Giralda, and soon after we enter Seville--the most
 charming of all Spanish towns; the city of Don Juan and Figaro;
 the gayest, the most celebrated for its beautiful women, its
@@ -23822,7 +23800,7 @@ reproduced,) and lost in awe before his grand picture of St.
 Anthony of Padua, to whom the infant Jesus descends, amidst
 angels and flowers and sunbeams, into the arms ecstatically
 extended toward him. In a little chapel we come upon a lovely
-Virgin and Child, by Alonso Caño, called N. S. de Belem,
+Virgin and Child, by Alonso Caño, called N. S. de Belem,
 (Bethlehem.)
 
 But the sun declined, and we ascended the Giralda to see his last
@@ -23945,8 +23923,8 @@ was particularly fond, which is above the main altar.
 
 Near the great entrance of the cathedral a stone in the pavement
 marks the spot where lies Fernando, the son of Christopher
-Columbus, with the motto upon it, "A Castilla y á Leon, mundo
-nuevo dió Colon." From his tomb we go to the great Columbine
+Columbus, with the motto upon it, "A Castilla y á Leon, mundo
+nuevo dió Colon." From his tomb we go to the great Columbine
 Library given by him to his country, containing some interesting
 MSS. of his father--one, a book of quotations containing extracts
 from the psalms and prophets, proving the existence of the new
@@ -23958,7 +23936,7 @@ here the great two-edged sword of Ferdinand Gonsalves.
 Some of our party go to visit the archbishop, in the hope to get
 permission to see the treasures of the church, which are very
 valuable; but the presence of the revolution obliges him to deny
-us this as well as the _entrée_ to the convent of St.
+us this as well as the _entrée_ to the convent of St.
 Theresa, which is said to be exactly the same as when she founded
 it. It was here she underwent such great trouble and persecution,
 and where (finding she had but two or three coppers with which to
@@ -24022,7 +24000,7 @@ Next we go to the "Caridad," one of the most celebrated hospitals
 in the world, founded by a young nobleman of Seville in the
 seventeenth century, upon ground which belonged to a brotherhood
 whose duty it was to give consolation to those about to die on
-the scaffold. This young man (Don Miguel de Mañara) was
+the scaffold. This young man (Don Miguel de Mañara) was
 distinguished for his profligacy, but also for his bravery,
 generosity, and his patronage of art. One of our friends told us
 some most interesting anecdotes connected with his conversion.
@@ -24036,7 +24014,7 @@ wondering what could be going on at such an hour, entered. Before
 the altar was a bier upon which was extended a body covered with
 the mantle of the knights of the order to which he belonged, the
 priests about it singing the office for the dead. Asking whose
-funeral it was, he was answered, "That of Don Miguel Mañara," and
+funeral it was, he was answered, "That of Don Miguel Mañara," and
 going to the corpse and uncovering it, saw his own face. The
 morning found him stretched upon the pavement, the vision gone.
 But the impression remained, in which he recognized a call from
@@ -24057,12 +24035,12 @@ There are also several most remarkable pictures by Valdes Leal;
 one, "The Triumph of Time," in which the skeleton Death stands
 triumphantly above crowns and sceptres and "all there is of
 glory." Opposite to this is "The Dead Prelate," a picture made at
-the suggestion of Mañara. From the top of the picture a
+the suggestion of Mañara. From the top of the picture a
 _pierced hand_ holds the scales, in one side of which a
 kingly crown, and jewels, and sceptre, weigh against the mystic
 "I. H. S." and a book, the Word of God. Below lies a dead
 prelate, in mitre and crosier, half eaten by the worms; on the
-other side, Don Miguel Mañara, wrapped in his knightly mantle,
+other side, Don Miguel Mañara, wrapped in his knightly mantle,
 upon which also the worms run riot. On one of the scales is
 written "nor more;" upon the other, "nor less."
 
@@ -24073,7 +24051,7 @@ worst man that ever lived," so he styles himself in his epitaph;
 and he requested that he might lie where the feet of every passer
 should walk over him. The sisters conduct us over the clean and
 airy wards. On the wall of the patio are these words, from the
-pen of Mañara himself, "This house will last as long as God shall
+pen of Mañara himself, "This house will last as long as God shall
 be feared in it, and Jesus Christ be served in the persons of his
 poor. Whoever enters here must leave at the door both avarice and
 pride." And over his own cell is inscribed, "What is it we mean
@@ -24187,7 +24165,7 @@ belt, with pistols and a great rifle.
 
 The revolution spreads everywhere, "peacefully," as they say. We
 see a handbill posted, in which the queen is spoken of as
-"_Doña_ Isabella of Bourbon," to whom they wish "no harm."
+"_Doña_ Isabella of Bourbon," to whom they wish "no harm."
 
 Some Spanish ladies who had once lived in America, and are
 friends of ours, came to visit us. They are intensely loyal, as
@@ -24488,7 +24466,7 @@ days when Spain had her argosies from the new world laden with
 gold, were made to resist "all time." Four men with iron crowbars
 were striving to dislodge an angel suspended over an altar, which
 positively refused to come down; while below him, on the floor,
-stood saints and martyrs covered with dust and _débris_,
+stood saints and martyrs covered with dust and _débris_,
 hastily dislodged from the pedestals on which they had rested for
 centuries--a rueful group! No wonder the women wept, and eyed
 resentfully the malicious-looking revolutionists employed to
@@ -24612,7 +24590,7 @@ The preparations for the approaching council continue to be made
 on a grand scale, and with the greatest diligence. From the
 _Chronicle of Matters relating to the future Council_, which
 is regularly published at the office of the _Civilta
-Cattolicà_, in Rome, we copy the list of the different
+Cattolicà_, in Rome, we copy the list of the different
 commissions and their members which are preparing the matters to
 be discussed and decided upon by the bishops assembled in
 ecumenical council.
@@ -24624,7 +24602,7 @@ secretary, Mgr. Giannelli; and as consulters, Mgr. Tizzani, Mgr.
 Angelini, vicegerent of Rome, Mgr. Talbot, (an Englishman,) Don
 Melchior Galeotti, of the seminary of Palermo, F. Sanguineti, S.
 J., professor of canon law in the Roman College, Professor Feije,
-of the University of Louvain, and Professor Hefele, of Tübingen.
+of the University of Louvain, and Professor Hefele, of Tübingen.
 {357}
 The commission of ceremonies is composed of prelates who have the
 general supervision of the grand functions which take place in
@@ -24643,9 +24621,9 @@ commission is composed of;
           congregation of ministers of the sick,)
   Canon Kovaes, of Kolocza in Bohemia,
   Canon Molitor of Spire in Germany,
-  the Abbé Chesnel, vicar-general of Quimper,
+  the Abbé Chesnel, vicar-general of Quimper,
   Canon Moufang of Mayence,
-  the Abbé Gibert, vicar-general of Moulins, and
+  the Abbé Gibert, vicar-general of Moulins, and
   Mgr. Trinchieri, secretary.
 
 The commission for eastern affairs is composed of
@@ -24700,8 +24678,8 @@ The commission of dogmatic theology is composed of
      of the Roman university,
   F. Adrogna, definitor-general of the
      conventual Franciscans,
-  Mgr. Jacquenet, curé of St. Jacques at Rheims,
-  the Abbé Gay, vicar-general of Poitiers,
+  Mgr. Jacquenet, curé of St. Jacques at Rheims,
+  the Abbé Gay, vicar-general of Poitiers,
   F. Martinelli, (Augustinian,) professor of Scripture in the Roman
      university,
   Don Joseph Pecci, professor of philosophy in the same,
@@ -24733,7 +24711,7 @@ The commission of ecclesiastical discipline is composed of
   Canon Jacobini,
   Professor Hergenroether, of Wurtzburg,
   Professor Feije of Louvain,
-  the Abbé Sauvé, of Laval,
+  the Abbé Sauvé, of Laval,
   Canon Giese, of Munster,
   Professor Heuser, of Cologne,
   Professor de Torres, of Seville, and
@@ -24742,7 +24720,7 @@ The commission of ecclesiastical discipline is composed of
 Several other distinguished men have been added to these
 commissioners since this list was published. Dr. Newman was
 invited to assist, but declined on account of his infirm health.
-Dr. Döllinger was also invited.
+Dr. Döllinger was also invited.
 
 {358}
 
@@ -24829,7 +24807,7 @@ continually increasing as the time for its assembling draws near.
 The infidel and red-republican party in Europe manifest a fear
 and dread which is certainly remarkable, and very encouraging to
 all friends of religion and order. The politicians of the old
-_régime_ of state supremacy over the church also manifest a
+_régime_ of state supremacy over the church also manifest a
 terrible and perfectly well-founded alarm, lest the church should
 assert and regain her perfect liberty and independence, and
 condemn, without any hope of appeal, those maxims and opinions by
@@ -24919,7 +24897,7 @@ results, and to welcome the thought of a possible reconciliation.
 
 On the tenth day of last November, M. Guizot uttered the
 following words at a reunion of ecclesiastics and laymen, at
-Notre Dame de Dozulè, in Normandy:
+Notre Dame de Dozulè, in Normandy:
 
   "You priests have faith; it is faith which directs you; and
   even when you seem to act imprudently, success always justifies
@@ -25405,7 +25383,7 @@ the heart in sympathy with nature in all her infinite variety.
 But this requires teachers who are capable of opening to youth
 the great treasure-house of nature. It is not always the most
 intellectual people who are the most fond of the country. Madame
-de Staël preferred living in the fourth story of a house on the
+de Staël preferred living in the fourth story of a house on the
 Rue du Bac in Paris to a villa on the enchanted shores of Lake
 Geneva. And Dr. Johnson thought there was no view that equalled
 the high tide of human beings at Charing Cross.
@@ -25709,7 +25687,7 @@ head of St. Mary's River, invited me to accompany him, and I
 gladly did so. Two colored servants went to manage the sail, or
 to row if necessary. The boat was black as a gondola of Venice.
 Sailing over these waters, where passed the Dove and the Ark,
-reminded me of the Père Jean and the novice René on the St.
+reminded me of the Père Jean and the novice René on the St.
 Lawrence. The whole country was, as we set out, glorified by the
 setting sun. The long points of land around which the river wound
 were bathed on one side by a golden mist, and on the other in a
@@ -27657,7 +27635,7 @@ nationalities, some of them, if not repugnant, at least strange
 to the native-born of America, the power of absorption possessed
 by the people of the United States is astonishing. Columbia,
 taking to her ample bosom the fiery Celt and the phlegmatic
-Teuton, the self-asserting Briton and the _débonnaire_ Gaul,
+Teuton, the self-asserting Briton and the _débonnaire_ Gaul,
 smiles complacently at their peculiarities, or, remembering the
 good qualities which underlie such eccentricities, waits
 patiently for time and example to cure them; and we venture to
@@ -28000,7 +27978,7 @@ others remain still to be discovered. When we remember the
 prodigality with which nature lavishes her gifts, we cannot
 believe that while France alone possesses twenty-four varieties
 of roses, all described by De Candolle in his _Flore
-Française_, the great American continent owns but fifteen.
+Française_, the great American continent owns but fifteen.
 
 We will commence our European rose search in that most
 unpromising of all spots, Iceland; there, where volcanic fire and
@@ -28017,7 +27995,7 @@ the outside, and its fruit, at first red, becomes perfectly black
 when ripe.
 
 In Lapland, too, a country almost as disinherited by nature as
-Iceland, the pretty little May rose (_rosa maïalis_) expands
+Iceland, the pretty little May rose (_rosa maïalis_) expands
 its bright red corolla even before the tardy sun has melted away
 all the snow that has covered it during nine long months. A
 little later on, in the full blush of the short summer, "when the
@@ -28371,7 +28349,7 @@ his works.
        _Letters from Spain_. By William Cullen Bryant. 12mo.
        New York: D.  Appleton & Co.
 
-       _Voyage en Espagne_. Par M. Eugène Poitou. 8vo, pp.
+       _Voyage en Espagne_. Par M. Eugène Poitou. 8vo, pp.
        483. Tours: A. Mame et Fila. 1869.]
 
 Lady Herbert strikes the key-note of her narrative of Spanish
@@ -28509,7 +28487,7 @@ father educates his children. It seems to have been forgotten
 that this was a task which only those mighty geniuses who appear
 once in a century are strong enough to perform. An indolent,
 weak, and careless ruler under the Spanish system allows his
-people to lag behind in the struggle for national preëminence; a
+people to lag behind in the struggle for national preëminence; a
 bad ruler plunges them into misery and disgrace. Spain has
 suffered terribly from both these afflictions; we do not believe,
 however, that her case is desperate. While there is much in the
@@ -28611,7 +28589,7 @@ presents as well as for the library.
   that thou mayest be long-lived in the land
   which the Lord thy God will give thee."
 
-In a remarkable work, entitled _Mémoires concernant l'histoire,
+In a remarkable work, entitled _Mémoires concernant l'histoire,
 les sciences, les arts, les moeurs, les usages, etc., etc., des
 Chinois_, written by two natives of China who had spent their
 early years in Europe, and had there added the sciences of the
@@ -29381,7 +29359,7 @@ hand.
 
   The Free-masons.
   What they are--What they do--What they are aiming at.
-  From the French of Mgr. Sègur,
+  From the French of Mgr. Sègur,
   author of _Plain Talk_.
   Boston: Patrick Donahoe. 1869.
 
@@ -29389,7 +29367,7 @@ The best notice we can give of this book is to reproduce an
 extract from the translator's preface:
 
   "This short treatise, written, not by the archbishop of Paris,
-  as carelessly stated by some newspapers, but by Mgr. de Sègur,
+  as carelessly stated by some newspapers, but by Mgr. de Sègur,
   the author of the work lately translated and published under
   the title of _Plain Talk_, was composed to unveil and show
   Free-Masonry _as it is in the old world_. Its strictures,
@@ -29575,7 +29553,7 @@ A woman's book in every page and line, charming for its
 simplicity and pleasant gossip. Madame Polko was a friend and
 enthusiastic admirer of the great musician. All that he ever did,
 said, or wrote she tells us with an air of pride and earnestness
-only equalled by the _naïve_ recital of all baby's wonderful
+only equalled by the _naïve_ recital of all baby's wonderful
 pranks and precocious intelligence peculiar to young mothers.
 
 These reminiscences will do to beguile a dreamy summer hour, when
@@ -29708,7 +29686,7 @@ From Roberts Brothers, Boston:
 
     Foreign Literary Notes.
 
-The Abbé Sire, Superior of the Seminary of St. Sulpice, some time
+The Abbé Sire, Superior of the Seminary of St. Sulpice, some time
 since undertook to procure the translation of the bull
 "_Ineffabilis_" into all the written languages of the world.
 In this vast enterprise he has made great progress, and more than
@@ -29763,8 +29741,8 @@ The publishing house of Adrien Le Clerc (Paris) announces an
 important work in press. It is _L'Histoire des Conciles_, in
 ten volumes 8vo, (large,) of 640 pages each. The first volume
 appeared on the 31st of January. It is a translation, by the
-Abbés Goschler and Delarc, from the German of Dr. Ch. Jos.
-Hefele, Professor of Theology at the University of Tübingen. The
+Abbés Goschler and Delarc, from the German of Dr. Ch. Jos.
+Hefele, Professor of Theology at the University of Tübingen. The
 Messrs. Clarke, of Edinburgh, have announced an English
 translation of the same work from the German.
 
@@ -29902,7 +29880,7 @@ dependence upon foreign princes.
 {432}
 
 There is another _Life of Sixus_ in preparation by Baron
-Hübner, formerly Austrian Ambassador to France, in which he
+Hübner, formerly Austrian Ambassador to France, in which he
 promises numerous documents, French, Spanish, and English, never
 yet published.
 
@@ -29916,7 +29894,7 @@ Textum Syriacum edidit latine vertit notisque instruxit,
 T. J. Lamy. Lovanii, 1868.
 
 From ancient Syrian literature, so rich in works relative to the
-church, its history, its discipline, and its dogmas, the Abbé
+church, its history, its discipline, and its dogmas, the Abbé
 Lamy, Professor at the University of Louvain, has here selected
 one of its most precious monuments for translation and comment.
 Not less remarkable for the charm of their antique simplicity of
@@ -30011,7 +29989,7 @@ Ambrosian.
 
                       "----e di te solo
   Basti ai posteri tuoi ch'alquanto accume:
-  Che quel poco darà lunga memoria
+  Che quel poco darà lunga memoria
   Di poema dignissima e d'istoria." [Footnote 121]
          _Gierusalemme Liberata_, TASSO.
 
@@ -30199,7 +30177,7 @@ enterprise and quitting Spain.
 
 Fourth. The same prior saddling a mule at midnight to confront
 the dangers of mountain passes, and an enemy's country, in order
-to intercede for Columbus with the queen at Santa Fé.
+to intercede for Columbus with the queen at Santa Fé.
 
 Fifth. The same noble monk pleading the cause of Columbus before
 the queen with such chivalrous enthusiasm that "Isabella never
@@ -30229,7 +30207,7 @@ acquired the dignity of an historical fact. That Prescott should
 have followed Irving is not surprising. That Lamartine should
 have disdained reference to historical sources and spoken of
 Spain of the fifteenth century with that wonderful _sans
-gêne_ that improvises both form and substance, that writes an
+gêne_ that improvises both form and substance, that writes an
 apotheosis of Robespierre and calls it a history of the
 Girondins, in which there is, of course, a florid description of
 "the last banquet," (which never took place,) is still less
@@ -30352,7 +30330,7 @@ sagacity, impartiality, and fidelity are universally recognized,
 thus relates the matter of the cosmographers, but not once does
 he mention "council" or "Salamanca." He says (1st Dec. book i,
 chap. vii.) "that Columbus's suit was so home pressed (y tanto se
-porfiò en ello) that their Catholic majesties, giving some
+porfiò en ello) that their Catholic majesties, giving some
 attention to the affair, referred it to father Ferdinand de
 Talavera. He (Talavera) held a meeting of cosmographers who
 debated about it, (qui confirieron en ello,) but there being few
@@ -30380,7 +30358,7 @@ many passages, his very words. Fernando makes no mention of
 Salamanca, says expressly that the cosmographers were called
 altogether by Talavera, and that Columbus held back his most
 important proofs lest what had happened him in Portugal might
-also happen him in Spain, (nè lo ammiraglio si volea lasciar
+also happen him in Spain, (nè lo ammiraglio si volea lasciar
 tanto intendere che gli avenisse quel, che in Portogallo gli
 avvenne et gli urbassero la beniditione.)
 
@@ -30409,25 +30387,25 @@ fifteenth century. _It is clear, nevertheless, that Columbus
 established his propositions, produced his proofs, and met every
 objection_. [Footnote 124]
 
-    [Footnote 124:  Talavera á quien los reyes encargaron la
-    comision de juntar à los sujetis habiles in cosmografia, para
+    [Footnote 124:  Talavera á quien los reyes encargaron la
+    comision de juntar à los sujetis habiles in cosmografia, para
     examinar la empresa, y dar su pareceo. Formose la junta en
-    Salamanca, quizá per el invierno estando alli la corte. Es
+    Salamanca, quizá per el invierno estando alli la corte. Es
     lastima quo no hayan quidado documentis de las disputas que
     se tuvieron en el convento de los dominicanos de San Esteban
     para formar juicio del estado de las matematicas y astronomia
     en aquella universidad famosa en el siglo XV. Coustu que
     Colon sentaban sus proposisciones, exponfa sus fundamentos, y
-    satisfaciá a' las dificultades.]
+    satisfaciá a' las dificultades.]
 
 Munoz (_Historia del Nuevo Mundo_, pp. 57, 58, 59)
 continues: "Los dominicanos poner entre sus glorias el haber
 hospedado en San Esteban al descubridor de las Indias, dadole de
 comer y otros auxilios para seguir sus pretensiones; y sobra todo
-el haber estado por su opinion en equellas disputas, y atraido á
+el haber estado por su opinion en equellas disputas, y atraido á
 su partido los primeros hombres de la escuela. En lo qual
-attribuyen la principal parte á Fray Diego Deza. ... cuyo
-autoridad. ... contribuyó mucho para los creditos y acceptacion
+attribuyen la principal parte á Fray Diego Deza. ... cuyo
+autoridad. ... contribuyó mucho para los creditos y acceptacion
 de la empresa." [Footnote 125]
 
     [Footnote 125: The Dominicans are justly proud of the
@@ -30572,17 +30550,17 @@ declaiming their grandest passages.
     Marchese, mean Cortes, and the Florentines, when they name
     _Il Segretario_, mean Macchiavelli.]
 
-Luther, as we learn from that remarkable book, _D'Aubigné's
+Luther, as we learn from that remarkable book, _D'Aubigné's
 History of the Reformation, discovered_, unexpectedly
 discovered, to his great joy and surprise, a Bible chained to a
-window in the conventual library! Could not some modern D'Aubigné
+window in the conventual library! Could not some modern D'Aubigné
 inform us how it was that an obscure Italian sailor could have
 happened upon a Bible in such countries as Italy, Portugal, and
 Spain, could have been permitted to read it--more than all that,
 could have had the temerity to quote it to the very face of
 monks, and priests, and, worse still, show them that he knew as
 much about it as they did? We commend the subject to the
-D'Aubigné editors.
+D'Aubigné editors.
 
 In saying that, in our belief, the life of Columbus has yet to be
 written, we express no new opinion.
@@ -30624,7 +30602,7 @@ Columbus himself, for he has recorded it. We quote from Navarette
   Indies." [Footnote 127]
 
     [Footnote 127: "Por lo cual decia el mismo Colon que
-    _desde_ que vino á Castilla le habia favorecido aquel
+    _desde_ que vino á Castilla le habia favorecido aquel
     prelado y deseado su honora, y que el fue causa que SS. AA.
     tuviesen las Indias."]
 
@@ -30732,7 +30710,7 @@ from luncheon, and he sometimes dined out, rather than sit beside
 that smiling papist who was doubtless triumphing over him in her
 heart, taking his silence for defeat. He groaned as he heard her
 light step pass his door every morning on her way to early mass.
-That step was his _réveil_. Should he, the Gospel watchman,
+That step was his _réveil_. Should he, the Gospel watchman,
 sleep while the foe was awake and at work?
 
 "Why cannot truth inspire as much ardor as error awakens?" he
@@ -32248,11 +32226,11 @@ Magdalen, and at her own request. The universal interest felt in
 her story, and the sympathy it always excites, induced me to
 visit a place that cannot be disconnected from her memory--the
 chapel of the Carmelites in the Rue d'Enfer, where she took the
-veil. I refer to Madame de la Vallière, whom Madame de Sevigné
+veil. I refer to Madame de la Vallière, whom Madame de Sevigné
 calls "la petite violette qui se cachait sous l'herbe."
 
 A priest was just commencing mass when I entered the chapel. I
-knelt down by the tomb of the Cardinal de Bérulle, who used to
+knelt down by the tomb of the Cardinal de Bérulle, who used to
 come here to pray in the chapel of St. Magdalen, having a great
 devotion to that saint. It was difficult to resist the
 distractions that were inevitable in such a spot, but in which I
@@ -32270,12 +32248,12 @@ officiating priest, that you might have supposed no one else
 there. But after the Agnus Dei, came out from that mysterious
 recess a murmur from unseen lips like a voice from another world.
 It was that of the nuns all saying the Confiteor together before
-going to holy communion. That murmur of _mea culpâ, mea
-culpâ_, seemed like the voice of penitence from La Sainte
+going to holy communion. That murmur of _mea culpâ, mea
+culpâ_, seemed like the voice of penitence from La Sainte
 Beaume, or the voice of past times repeating the accents of the
-repentant La Vallière. There she lived and prayed and did penance
+repentant La Vallière. There she lived and prayed and did penance
 for thirty-six years, longer than Magdalen in her cave, "son
-coeur ne respirant que du côté du ciel," thus displaying a
+coeur ne respirant que du côté du ciel," thus displaying a
 remarkable strength of volition, and therefore of character; for
 "What is character but a perfectly formed will?" says Novalis.
 Before that altar she used to come two hours before the rest of
@@ -32334,7 +32312,7 @@ without happiness, and instead thereof find blessedness." That
 happiness alone is real which does not depend on contingencies.
 It is reasonably satisfied with the present, and has a constantly
 increasing hope in the future. Such was the happiness Madame de
-la Vallière found among the pale-eyed votaries of the cloister, a
+la Vallière found among the pale-eyed votaries of the cloister, a
 satisfaction of the soul which became perfect happiness when
 death came to her after so many years of dying.
 
@@ -32383,7 +32361,7 @@ lower depths.
 All these things passed through my mind while lingering in the
 chapel of the Carmelites. In that chapel had resounded the grand
 tones of the great Bossuet at the profession of Madame de la
-Vallière, with his usual refrain--the emptiness of all earthly
+Vallière, with his usual refrain--the emptiness of all earthly
 things. "Away, earthly honors!" he said on that occasion, "all
 your splendor but ill conceals our weaknesses and our faults;
 conceals them from ourselves, but reveals them to
@@ -32400,12 +32378,12 @@ would be restrained on every side, by frightful grates, a
 profound solitude, an impenetrable cloister, perfect obedience, a
 rule for every action, a motive for every step, and a hundred
 observant eyes. Thus hemmed in on all sides, the soul can only
-fly heavenward. _Elle ne peut plus respirer que du côté du
+fly heavenward. _Elle ne peut plus respirer que du côté du
 ciel_"--a beautiful expression, recalling the lines from an
-old manuscript poem in the _Bibliothèque Royal:_
+old manuscript poem in the _Bibliothèque Royal:_
 
   "Li cuers doit estre
-   Semblans à l'encensoir
+   Semblans à l'encensoir
    Tous clos envers la terre
    Et overs vers le ciel."
 
@@ -32414,9 +32392,9 @@ toward heaven; and such is the heart of the real spouse of
 Christ.
 
 When Bossuet had finished his discourse and the black veil was
-placed upon the head of La Vallière, the whole audience wept
-aloud. The Duchess de la Vallière was now Louise de la
-Miséricorde, vowed to the rigorous life of the Carmelites, to
+placed upon the head of La Vallière, the whole audience wept
+aloud. The Duchess de la Vallière was now Louise de la
+Miséricorde, vowed to the rigorous life of the Carmelites, to
 fasts and vigils, to sackcloth and ashes.
 
 Philosophers say no motion is ever lost, and that every act is
@@ -33297,14 +33275,14 @@ valley, through which runs the Genil river, on one side the
 Periquete Hills (Sierra Ronda) and the Hacho. The Manzanil unites
 here with the Genil, both rapid and clear mountain streams
 fertilizing a lovely valley. Soon after leaving Loja, we reach
-Santa Fé, (Holy Faith,) built by Queen Isabella to shelter her
+Santa Fé, (Holy Faith,) built by Queen Isabella to shelter her
 army in winter during the siege of Granada in 1492, and called
-"Santa Fé" because she looked upon the war as a struggle for the
+"Santa Fé" because she looked upon the war as a struggle for the
 faith, and believed piously in its happy issue. This little town
 has been the scene of many important operations and political
 acts. It witnessed the signing of the capitulation of Granada,
 and it was to this town that Columbus was recalled by Isabella
-when he had already reached the bridge of Piños, behind the
+when he had already reached the bridge of Piños, behind the
 mountains, determining to ask aid elsewhere for his great
 undertaking.
 
@@ -33323,9 +33301,9 @@ there. Driving through beautiful ornamental grounds out of the
 Alhambra gate, down a steep hill in the old Moorish looking city,
 we find the cathedral, like that of Malaga, greatly ornamented,
 (in the Greco-Roman style,) built in 1529. Within the sanctuary
-are eleven pictures by Alonzo Caño, and two of his most
+are eleven pictures by Alonzo Caño, and two of his most
 celebrated pieces of sculpture--the heads of Adam and Eve carved
-in cork. Caño was a native of Granada, and is buried in the
+in cork. Caño was a native of Granada, and is buried in the
 Cathedral Bocanegra. Another of the celebrated artists of Spain
 was also a native here, and the cathedral has several of his
 pictures. But everything connected with the church sinks into
@@ -33358,7 +33336,7 @@ accompanied his beloved mistress to her last home.
 
 The inscription which runs around the cornice tells: "This chapel
 was founded by their most Catholic Majesties, Don Fernando and
-Doña Isabel, king and queen of las Españas of Naples, of
+Doña Isabel, king and queen of las Españas of Naples, of
 Sicily--of Jerusalem--who conquered this kingdom, and brought it
 back to our faith; who acquired the Canary Islands and Indies, as
 well as the cities of Oran, Tripoli, and Bugia; who crushed
@@ -33396,7 +33374,7 @@ Gonzales de Cordova--"El gran Capitan." In the refectory is shown
 a cross, painted on the wall by Cotan, which so well imitates
 wood that the very birds fly to it, and try to perch there. The
 church has a beautiful statue of St. Bruno upon the altar; and a
-larger one in the chapel of the Sagrario, by Alonzo Caño, is
+larger one in the chapel of the Sagrario, by Alonzo Caño, is
 especially fine. The sacristy is rich in marbles from the Sierra
 Nevada, and the doors and other wood-work of the church and
 chapel are made of the most curious and beautiful inlaid
@@ -33406,7 +33384,7 @@ after so adorning this chapel, behold! the monks are driven from
 it.
 
 In the church are several lovely pictures--a head of our Lord by
-Murillo; a copy, by Alonzo Caño, of the Viergo del Rosario in the
+Murillo; a copy, by Alonzo Caño, of the Viergo del Rosario in the
 Madrid gallery, and a copy of one of the "Conceptions" of Murillo
 --that one with the fair flowing hair, so very lovely.
 
@@ -33731,7 +33709,7 @@ Led by a little boy, and following the wall, we come upon a
 plantation of cactus, with its red and yellow fruit, which a man
 is gathering with great scissors, to prevent its prickings. A
 woman politely cuts and pares some for us to taste. It is sweet
-and juicy; is much eaten by the poor, who call it "Tuños." They
+and juicy; is much eaten by the poor, who call it "Tuños." They
 also make from it a palatable drink--a sort of beer. Hans
 Andersen has written a pretty sonnet to the cactus, which seems
 especially applicable to this time and occasion.
@@ -33756,7 +33734,7 @@ walled up, so that no one should ever pass through it after him,
 and his conquerors acceded to his request. Returning through one
 of the many beautiful paths leading to our hotel, we diverge to
 look at a view which presented itself, and find we are near the
-villa of Señora Calderon. Here, terrace above terrace rises in
+villa of Señora Calderon. Here, terrace above terrace rises in
 view of the mountains, and on the summit is an artificial lake,
 with bridges and boats, and winding walks, and flowers and
 fruits, and statues and fountains--everything to make a perfect
@@ -33804,7 +33782,7 @@ is allowed you." The hospital is built round a large court, with
 fountains and gardens, and a double row of corridors in which sat
 the sick poor, clean and comfortable. It communicates with the
 church, which has several good pictures, and a head of St. John
-the Baptist, carved by Caño.
+the Baptist, carved by Caño.
 
 In a richly ornamented chapel behind the great altar is the body
 of the saint in a silver casket. The remains of St. Feliciana are
@@ -33826,7 +33804,7 @@ betrayed the city to them, made terms for themselves, and thus
 brought upon themselves the eternal enmity of the Spaniards, who
 treated them with great rigor after the conquest, and finally
 banished them. In the story of the three beautiful princesses,
-this tower plays an important _rôle;_ here were confined the
+this tower plays an important _rôle;_ here were confined the
 captive Spanish knights who eloped with the Infantas, (daughters
 of Mohammed the left-handed,) and beyond, rising above the deep,
 romantic ravine, is the Tower of the Princesses, beneath which
@@ -33863,7 +33841,7 @@ the while in terror for his safety.
 
 {488}
 
-Such is the Spanish diligence from the "coupé." In the interior,
+Such is the Spanish diligence from the "coupé." In the interior,
 shut out from the front view, one only hears the united voices of
 the "conductors," and it is less exciting. We who are above,
 however, have the advantage of a fine view of the mountains, (the
@@ -33887,7 +33865,7 @@ assumes power.
 
 Topete (the admiral who, at Cadiz, brought over the fleet) is
 also in Madrid; and Serrano, the prince of the traitors, is
-president of the provisional government. The table d'hôte is
+president of the provisional government. The table d'hôte is
 crowded with men of the press, (letter-writers of all nations,)
 giving their several impressions of matters to the gullible
 "public," and interpreting events to suit the taste of their
@@ -34242,7 +34220,7 @@ missions; the sermons in Lent in the parish; the general
 indulgences granted by the pope; the cardinals in the senate; and
 the Capuchins who went barefooted--were all equally the objects
 of his strong aversion. He read continually the _Journal des
-Débats_, the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, and the liberal
+Débats_, the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, and the liberal
 journal of his department--of that department in which he played
 a prominent part. Shall we say, in excuse for him, that his
 impiety had never been tried by adversity; and that he had found
@@ -34311,7 +34289,7 @@ Christian education. Their eldest daughter, Amelia, had been
 married about a year; and they were now very happy in expectation
 of her approaching maternity. The second daughter was finishing
 her education in the same convent of Benedictines where her
-mother had been in her youthful days. Their son André was in a
+mother had been in her youthful days. Their son André was in a
 polytechnic school, and their youngest, Maurice, was pursuing his
 Latin studies in his native village.
 
@@ -34337,7 +34315,7 @@ little children.
 {495}
 At this moment we find Camille in the drawing-room with her
 father, who is half asleep before a great fire, with the
-_Débats_ at his feet. She is sewing on some linen for the
+_Débats_ at his feet. She is sewing on some linen for the
 coming baby; but twice stops to read two short letters received
 that morning from two of her absent children. After a thousand
 details about boarding, upon the compositions in history, upon
@@ -34349,7 +34327,7 @@ when the gentle God will answer us--as if grandpapa was going to
 be astonished that he had been able to live so long without
 thinking of God!"
 
-The second letter was from André, and would have been
+The second letter was from André, and would have been
 unintelligible to any one who did not possess the key to a
 school-boy's language. But at the end there was a passage which
 Camille kissed again and again: "Dear mamma, I love you, and I
@@ -34561,7 +34539,7 @@ their deliberations, gathered by a notary, with the votes and
 motives alleged for or against, in case of a disagreement, was
 then to be transmitted to the bishops. These, again, held private
 congregations where they occupied themselves solely with
-questions already debated by the theologians. _A procès
+questions already debated by the theologians. _A procès
 verbal_ was made, by the secretaries, of what passed in these
 meetings. A new examination and judgment was made in this second
 instance; yet these preliminary discussions decided nothing; all
@@ -34980,7 +34958,7 @@ distinguish them.
 A see becomes vacant, the bishops of the province meet in synod,
 or any other way, and discuss the aptitude of the candidates
 presented by each of them. After a secret examination, three
-names are sent to Rome with the _procès verbal_ of this
+names are sent to Rome with the _procès verbal_ of this
 election. On the representation thus made, the sovereign pontiff
 designates the one to be promoted to the episcopal dignity.
 
@@ -35550,7 +35528,7 @@ canons and discipline. But several States have already done what
 is reasonable in this respect; it is hoped that others will soon
 follow their example.
 
-Such is the incomplete but at least faithful _résumé_ of the
+Such is the incomplete but at least faithful _résumé_ of the
 decrees of this great assembly. In reading, one is struck with
 the wisdom and prudence which characterize them. After the divine
 assistance, certainly not denied to so holy an undertaking, one
@@ -37111,24 +37089,24 @@ further removed from real disinterested virtue than that of the
 Porch.
 
 Mr. Lecky denounces the morality of the church as selfish, and
-says the selfish system triumphed with Bossuet over Fénélon; but
+says the selfish system triumphed with Bossuet over Fénélon; but
 happily for us he is not competent to speak of the morals
 enjoined by the church. He does not understand the question which
 was at issue, and entirely misapprehends the matter for which
-Fénélon was censured by the Holy See. The doctrine of Fénélon, as
+Fénélon was censured by the Holy See. The doctrine of Fénélon, as
 he himself explained and defended it, was never condemned, nor
 was that of Bossuet, which, on several points, was very unsound,
-ever approved. Several passages of Fénélon's _Maxims of the
+ever approved. Several passages of Fénélon's _Maxims of the
 Saints_ were censured as favoring quietism, already condemned
 in the condemnation of Molinos and his adherents--a doctrine
-which Fénélon never held, and which he sought in his
+which Fénélon never held, and which he sought in his
 _Maxims_ to avoid without running into the contrary extreme,
 but, the Holy See judged, unsuccessfully. His thought was
 orthodox, but the language he used could be understood in a
 quietistic sense; and it was his language, not his doctrine, that
 was condemned.
 
-The error favored by Fénélon's language, though against his
+The error favored by Fénélon's language, though against his
 intention, was that it is possible in this life to rise and
 remain habitually in such a state of charity, or pure love of God
 for his own sake, of such perfect union with him, that in it the
@@ -37158,7 +37136,7 @@ is to be indifferent whether we please God or offend him, whether
 we are united to him or alienated from him.
 
 It is a great mistake to represent the doctrine the church
-opposed to quietism or to Fénélon as the selfish theory of
+opposed to quietism or to Fénélon as the selfish theory of
 morals. To act from simple fear of suffering or simple hope of
 happiness, or to labor solely to escape the one and secure the
 other, is, of course, selfish, and is not approved by the church,
@@ -37895,7 +37873,7 @@ all earthly associations, all earthly communions."
 
 Those who are familiar with the Raphael series of Madonnas will
 recall, in this connection, his exquisite pastoral _La
-Jardinière_. There is also one similarly entitled by a French
+Jardinière_. There is also one similarly entitled by a French
 artist, though differently treated. The virgin is enthroned on
 clouds, and holds the infant, whose feet rest on a globe. Both
 mother and child are crowned with roses; and on each side, as if
@@ -38292,7 +38270,7 @@ sea no longer rolls between him and home, and over and above the
 din of battle floats the voice of mother and sister in loving
 prayer for the absent one, who, impelled by a noble people's cry
 for aid, hastened to the rescue, and found instead of the
-_élan_ of battle the cold, dark walls of a prison home. Lo!
+_élan_ of battle the cold, dark walls of a prison home. Lo!
 the power and pathos of a little child and a fragile flower
 within the walls of a dungeon.
 
@@ -39193,7 +39171,7 @@ Debates_, called the _Chronometrical Review_. It
 certainly should be regularly sent to its subscribers. If the
 carrier is late, it cannot be for want of knowing if he has
 to-day's or yesterday's paper; and the subscribers are never
-exposed to _chercher midi à quatorze heures_.
+exposed to _chercher midi à quatorze heures_.
 
 M. Claudius Saurrier, the chief editor of this _Chronometrical
 Review_, has also a clock-maker's annual almanac for 1869.
@@ -39204,7 +39182,7 @@ will find some things to greatly interest us. For example, a
 sketch of different attainable speed:
 
                               Miles per hour.
-  The soldier in ordinary step makes,    2¾
+  The soldier in ordinary step makes,    2¾
   The soldier in a charge                4
   The soldier in gymnastic exercise,     7
   The horse walking,                     3
@@ -39257,7 +39235,7 @@ workman seeking employment, but with the design of abstracting
 the pocket-book of the proprietor. The scene is dialogued as the
 two parts of a clock containing the chimes of the north, the
 solemn stillness of the night broken by question and response,
-until they mingled in a _naïve contre-point_.
+until they mingled in a _naïve contre-point_.
 
 "Thy purse," said the thief.
 
@@ -39341,7 +39319,7 @@ and saints.
 Time has not always been lost through the instruments that
 indicate its flight. Ages have changed even palaces; and the
 Palais Royal, whose cannon gives us still the exact hour of
-mid-day, once knew no hours for its _habitués_, and vice and
+mid-day, once knew no hours for its _habitués_, and vice and
 immorality consumed the time that virtue now gives to better
 purposes. The poet of 1830 said:
 
@@ -39411,7 +39389,7 @@ opinion, its chief value consists in the refutation of the
 Calvinistic doctrine, and its discrimination of the modern
 prevalent Catholic opinion derived from St. Anselm from the dogma
 properly so called. The essay on development is one of the ablest
-portions of the book. Möhler, in his _Athanasius_, has
+portions of the book. Möhler, in his _Athanasius_, has
 accused Petavius of overstating or pressing too far, in his
 controversial zeal, the well-known points of his thesis
 respecting the doctrine of the anti-Nicene fathers against Bishop
@@ -39600,7 +39578,7 @@ Catholic in tone and sentiment, but is not of the belligerant
 class. There are no religious discussions indulged in for the
 sake of displaying one's theological knowledge; but the whole
 atmosphere of the book--the whole sentiment is Catholic, and the
-reader feels it, just as one in reading à Kempis would know and
+reader feels it, just as one in reading à Kempis would know and
 feel that the writer was a devout, practical Catholic.
 
 The typographical execution of the book might easily be improved
@@ -39609,12 +39587,12 @@ by employing a better proof-reader and the use of better type.
 ----
 
   Chips From A German Workshop.
-  By Max Müller, M. A.
+  By Max Müller, M. A.
   2 vols. crown 8vo, pp. 374, 402.
   New York: Charles Scribner & Co.
 
 These two volumes consist of various essays, lectures, etc.,
-which Professor Müller has published from time to time during the
+which Professor Müller has published from time to time during the
 intervals of his long years of labor on the Rig-Veda. They are
 all more or less closely connected with the great work to which
 he has devoted his life, and are all illustrations of a
@@ -39631,7 +39609,7 @@ beginning have undergone various changes, corruptions, and
 combinations, yet, though frequently distorted, tend again and
 again to their perfect form.
 {572}
-Professor Müller traces these primitive ideas through the ancient
+Professor Müller traces these primitive ideas through the ancient
 religions of India and Persia, and extracts from the forbidding
 obscurity of Sanscrit literature a wealth of illustration, which,
 with his charming style and incomparable happiness in selection,
@@ -39735,12 +39713,12 @@ brethren, etc.
 
 ----
 
-  Fénélon's Conversations With M. De Ramsai On The Truth Of
+  Fénélon's Conversations With M. De Ramsai On The Truth Of
   Religion, With his Letters on the Immortality of the Soul, and
   the Freedom of the Will.
   Translated from the French by A. E. Silliman. 1869.
 
-Fénélon was a genius and a saint. He had, moreover, the faculty
+Fénélon was a genius and a saint. He had, moreover, the faculty
 of expressing his thoughts in a remarkably clear style, and
 throwing a peculiar charm about every subject he handled. The
 conversations with Chevalier Ramsay form a short treatise,
@@ -39749,39 +39727,39 @@ is very admirable, and Mr. Silliman has done a good service in
 translating it, with the two other short but excellent treatises
 which are appended. The translator's preface, which is perfectly
 calm and passionless in its tone, gives a brief but interesting
-sketch of Fénélon's character, and of some of the events of his
+sketch of Fénélon's character, and of some of the events of his
 life, and relates the circumstance which gave occasion to the
 conversations with Chevalier Ramsay. As it alludes to the
 condemnation of the _Maxims_ by the pope, and states that
 this condemnation was given reluctantly and under threats from
 the king of France, it may be well to explain this matter in a
-few words. It is true that the accusation of Fénélon at Rome was
+few words. It is true that the accusation of Fénélon at Rome was
 made through enmity against his person, and in a manner
 discreditable to the parties concerned, and very displeasing to
 the pope. It is not true, however, that the decision was given in
 accordance with the wishes of the king on account of his
 entreaties or threats. The pope did not wish to have the matter
 brought before him, because he preferred to leave the errors of
-Fénélon's book to be corrected by milder methods than a public
+Fénélon's book to be corrected by milder methods than a public
 condemnation, and desired to spare so great and holy a
 prelate--who had erred only through a mistaken judgment of the
 true sense of certain statements of the most approved mystic
 authors--the mortification of a public censure and a formal
-retraction. The action of Fénélon's enemies made the matter so
+retraction. The action of Fénélon's enemies made the matter so
 public and notorious, and brought his erroneous statements into
 such a clear light that it was impossible to avoid an examination
 and judgment without scandal. The judgment was impartial, and was
-necessarily against Fénélon, whose doctrine was clearly
+necessarily against Fénélon, whose doctrine was clearly
 irreconcilable with the teaching of the church. At the same time,
 a sharp reproof was given to his accusers for the spirit which
 they had shown in pushing matters to extremes, and the personal
-respect and esteem of the pope for Fénélon were clearly
+respect and esteem of the pope for Fénélon were clearly
 manifested.
 
 The translator has added a very judicious note to the treatise on
 the immortality of the soul, justly censuring certain statements
 of the author on the nature of the connection between soul and
-body. Like many other writers of that time, Fénélon was too much
+body. Like many other writers of that time, Fénélon was too much
 influenced by the philosophy of Descartes whose ridiculous theory
 of occasional causes appears in the passages criticised by Mr.
 Silliman. On this point, the language of the Protestant
@@ -39799,7 +39777,7 @@ The translation is well done, and the mechanical execution of the
 book, which is a medium between a volume and a pamphlet, is
 elegant. If the translator finds sufficient encouragement in the
 reception which it meets with to induce him to continue, we
-recommend to him the translation of Fénélon's admirable treatise
+recommend to him the translation of Fénélon's admirable treatise
 on the existence and attributes of God, as a work which we should
 welcome as a timely and valuable addition to our English
 religious literature.
@@ -40019,12 +39997,12 @@ complete elucidation of the text.
 -----
 
   The Fisher-Maiden. A Norwegian Tale.
-  By Björnstjerne Björnson.
+  By Björnstjerne Björnson.
   From the Author's German Edition,
   by M. E. Niles.
   New York: Leypold & Holt. 1869.
 
-"An artist, not a photographer, Björnson draws souls more than
+"An artist, not a photographer, Björnson draws souls more than
 faces." "In these times of blatant novelists, it is no ordinary
 treat to get a story which affects one almost as finely as a
 poem."
@@ -42423,7 +42401,7 @@ important air, "I can tell you, sir, the singing is quite a
 secondary thing in the opera, for I know the public."
 
 Here several persons, invited guests of the composer, came in;
-among them Mozart's pupils, Sutzmayr and Holff, with the Abbé
+among them Mozart's pupils, Sutzmayr and Holff, with the Abbé
 Stadler and the excellent tenorist, Peyerl. After an hour or so
 spent in agreeable conversation, enlivened by an air from Mozart,
 they went to the dinner-table. Schickaneder here played his part
@@ -42519,7 +42497,7 @@ young composer.
 
 Among the churches of Paris which I visited in my saunterings,
 whose very stones seemed to have a tongue and cry aloud, was the
-interesting one of St. Germain des Près.
+interesting one of St. Germain des Près.
 
   "Each shrine and tomb within thee seems to cry."
 
@@ -42537,7 +42515,7 @@ persecuted there on account of his religion, and had the choice
 of prison or banishment. So he chose to be exiled, and went back
 to France, where he ended his days in practices of piety. He used
 to attend the canonical hours at the abbey of St. Germain des
-Près, and even rose for the midnight office. It was no unusual
+Près, and even rose for the midnight office. It was no unusual
 thing in the middle ages for the laity to assist at the night
 offices, and the church encouraged the practice. There was a
 confraternity in Paris, in the thirteenth century, composed of
@@ -42593,8 +42571,8 @@ The front and sides are of crystal, through which are seen the
 relics of St. Aurelia, from the Roman catacombs. Seven large
 hanging lamps burn before it, and an innumerable quantity of
 tapers. On the walls are _ex voto_ and many marble tablets
-with inscriptions of gratitude to Mary; such as: "_J'ai invoqué
-Marie, et elle m'a exaucé._" "_Reconnaissance à Marie_,"
+with inscriptions of gratitude to Mary; such as: "_J'ai invoqué
+Marie, et elle m'a exaucé._" "_Reconnaissance à Marie_,"
 etc. It is extremely interesting and curious to examine all
 these, and they wonderfully kindle our faith and fervor.
 
@@ -42610,7 +42588,7 @@ the Blessed Virgin Mary, by King John Casimir, on the first of
 April, 1656. On the same day, 1856, all the Polish exiles in
 Paris assembled at Notre Dame des Victoires, to renew their vows
 to Mary and make their offering, which was received and blessed
-by M. l'Abbé Desgenettes, the venerable curé, and founder of the
+by M. l'Abbé Desgenettes, the venerable curé, and founder of the
 renowned arch-confraternity of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. A
 lamp burns perpetually before this touching memorial, emblem of
 the faith, hope, and charity of the donors.
@@ -42669,9 +42647,9 @@ with bare feet. The streets through which they passed were
 sumptuously adorned. In 1793, the holy crown was transferred to
 the Hotel des Monnaies, where it was taken from its reliquary and
 given with other relics to the commission of arts under the care
-of Secretary Oudry, from whom the Abbé Barthélemi obtained it in
+of Secretary Oudry, from whom the Abbé Barthélemi obtained it in
 1794. He was one of the conservateurs of the antique medals in
-the Bibliothèque Nationale, where the sacred relic remained till
+the Bibliothèque Nationale, where the sacred relic remained till
 1804, when the Cardinal de Belloy, Archbishop of Paris, reclaimed
 the relics from the ministre des cultes. Every proper means was
 taken to identify them, which being satisfactorily done, the holy
@@ -42694,8 +42672,8 @@ and chapter of Paris by Anselle or Anseau, _grand-chantre_
 of the church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, who had
 obtained it from the superior of the Georgian nuns in that city,
 the widow of David, king of Georgia. In 1793, M. Guyot de St.
-Hélène obtained permission to keep the cross of Anseau. He
-divided it with Abbé Duflost, guardian of the four crosses made
+Hélène obtained permission to keep the cross of Anseau. He
+divided it with Abbé Duflost, guardian of the four crosses made
 of the part he kept, of which three only have been restored to
 Notre Dame. M. Guyot took the precaution to have them
 authenticated, and they were restored to the veneration of the
@@ -42706,7 +42684,7 @@ faithful in 1803.
 Another portion of the true cross was called the Palatine cross,
 because it belonged to Anna Gonzaga of Cleves, a Palatine
 princess, who left it by her will to the Abbey of St. Germain des
-Près, attesting that she had seen it in the flames without being
+Près, attesting that she had seen it in the flames without being
 burnt. This relic was enclosed in a cross of precious stones,
 double, like the cross of Jerusalem. This cross had belonged to
 Manuel Comnenus, Emperor of Constantinople, who presented it to a
@@ -42716,21 +42694,21 @@ precious stones. It has two cross-pieces, like the crosses of
 Jerusalem, which are filled with the wood of the true cross. It
 is bordered with diamonds and amethysts. The Palatine princess
 received it from John Casimir, King of Poland, who took it with
-him when he retired to France. It was preserved by a curé in
+him when he retired to France. It was preserved by a curé in
 1793, and restored, in 1828, to Notre Dame.
 
 There are two portions of the holy nails at Notre Dame de
 Paris--one formerly at the abbey of St. Denis, and the other at
-St. Germain des Près. The first was brought by Charles the Bald
+St. Germain des Près. The first was brought by Charles the Bald
 from Aix-la-Chapelle, it having been given Charlemagne by the
 Patriarch of Jerusalem.
 
-In 1793, M. Le Lièvre, a member of the Institute, begged
+In 1793, M. Le Lièvre, a member of the Institute, begged
 permission to take it from the commission des arts to examine and
 analyze it as a specimen of mineralogy. He thus saved it from
 profanation, and restored it to the Archbishop of Paris in 1824.
 
-The second portion was given to St. Germain des Près by the
+The second portion was given to St. Germain des Près by the
 Princess Palatine, who had received it from John Casimir of
 Poland.
 
@@ -42926,7 +42904,7 @@ died on the twelfth of January, having been abbot of St. Denis
 twenty-nine years and ten months, from 1122 to 1152. His tomb
 bore the simple inscription:
 
-  "Cy gist l'Abbé Suger."
+  "Cy gist l'Abbé Suger."
 
 The charter for the foundation of the abbey of St. Denis was
 given by Clovis. It was written on papyrus, and among others the
@@ -43047,7 +43025,7 @@ worshipped, under obscure symbols, the generative forces or
 functions of nature.
 {620}
 In no gentile philosophy, not even in Plato or Aristotle, do you
-find any conception of God the Creator. Père Gratry, indeed,
+find any conception of God the Creator. Père Gratry, indeed,
 thinks he finds the fact of creation recognized by Plato,
 especially in the _Timaeus_; but though we have read time
 and again that most important of Plato's dialogues, we have never
@@ -43176,7 +43154,7 @@ at once at pantheism, now so prevalent.
 
 That Descartes felt a difficulty in asserting creation in its
 proper sense, may be inferred from the fact that he always calls
-the soul _la pensée_, thought; never, if we recollect
+the soul _la pensée_, thought; never, if we recollect
 aright, a substance that thinks, which was itself a large stride
 toward pantheism, for pantheism consists precisely in denying all
 substantive existences except the one only substance, which is
@@ -44355,7 +44333,7 @@ vineyards, topped the neighboring hill.
 cheerful it looks up there! It is a home fit for princes."
 
 "You have indeed chosen a magnificent spot, father. Everything
-unites to make Frankenhöhe a delightful place. The vineyards on
+unites to make Frankenhöhe a delightful place. The vineyards on
 the slopes of the hills, the smiling hamlet of Salingen to the
 right. In the background the stern mountain with its proud ruins
 on the summit of Salburg, the deep valleys and the dark ravines,
@@ -44367,10 +44345,10 @@ beautiful property.
 "You have forgotten a reason for my happy choice," said he, while
 a smile played on his features. "I mean the habit of my friend
 and deliverer, who, for the last eight years, spends the month of
-May at Frankenhöhe. You know the singular character of the
+May at Frankenhöhe. You know the singular character of the
 doctor. Nothing in the world can tear him from his books. He has
 renounced all pleasure and enjoyment, to devote his whole time to
-his books. When Frankenhöhe entices and captivates the man of
+his books. When Frankenhöhe entices and captivates the man of
 science, so strict, so dead to the world, it is, as I think, the
 highest compliment to our place."
 
@@ -44382,7 +44360,7 @@ along. The pleasant hamlet of Salingen lay a short distance to
 the left. A single house, separated from the village, and
 standing near the road in the midst of vineyards, came into view.
 The features of Herr Frank darkened as he turned his gaze from
-Frankenhöhe to this house. It was as though some unpleasant
+Frankenhöhe to this house. It was as though some unpleasant
 recollection was associated with it. Richard looked at the
 stately mansion, the large out-houses, the walled courts, neat
 and clean.
@@ -44398,7 +44376,7 @@ Herr Frank did not hear these observations. He muttered some
 bitter imprecation. The coach gained the summit, left the road,
 and passed through vineyards and chestnut groves to the house.
 
-Frankenhöhe was a handsome two-story house whose arrangements
+Frankenhöhe was a handsome two-story house whose arrangements
 corresponded to Frank's taste and means. Near it stood another,
 occupied by the steward. A short distance from it were stables
 and out-houses for purposes of agriculture.
@@ -44474,7 +44452,7 @@ here will always be his favorite object, and care has been taken
 with it. Here are the best books on all subjects, even theology
 and astronomy."
 
-"Frankenhöhe is indeed cheerful as the heart of youth and quiet
+"Frankenhöhe is indeed cheerful as the heart of youth and quiet
 as a cloister," said Richard. "Your friend would indeed be
 ungrateful if this attention did not gratify him."
 
@@ -44610,7 +44588,7 @@ and doubtless she was the devotee of the place.
 
 Scarcely had his thoughts taken this direction when he turned
 away and walked to the border of the plot, and gazed at the
-country before him. He looked down toward Frankenhöhe, whose
+country before him. He looked down toward Frankenhöhe, whose
 white chimneys appeared above the chestnut grove. He contemplated
 the plains with their luxuriant fields reflecting every shade of
 green--the strips of forests that lay like shadows in the sunny
@@ -44850,7 +44828,7 @@ Siegwart."
 It was the same building that had arrested Richard's attention as
 he passed it some days before, and the sight of which had excited
 the ill-humor of his father. Richard returned by a shorter way to
-Frankenhöhe. He was serious and meditative. Arrived at home, he
+Frankenhöhe. He was serious and meditative. Arrived at home, he
 wrote in his diary:
 
   "May 13th.--Well, I have seen her. She exhibits herself as the
@@ -44887,7 +44865,7 @@ punctual as a repeater."
 that you depart a little from your regularity. Now everything is
 in good order, as I desired, for my friend and deliverer. I have
 just received a letter from him. He will be here in two days. I
-shall be glad to see the good man again. If Frankenhöhe will only
+shall be glad to see the good man again. If Frankenhöhe will only
 please him for a long time!"
 
 "I have no doubt of that," said Richard. "The doctor will be
@@ -44896,7 +44874,7 @@ like Adam and Eve in paradise."
 
 "Everything will go on as formerly. I will be coming and going on
 account of business. You will, of course, remain uninterruptedly
-at Frankenhöhe. You are high in the doctor's esteem. You interest
+at Frankenhöhe. You are high in the doctor's esteem. You interest
 him very much. It is true you annoy him sometimes with your
 unlearned objections and bold assertions. But I have observed
 that even vexation, when it comes from you, is not disagreeable
@@ -45102,13 +45080,13 @@ shall do so in a few days," answered Frank.
 "Herr Frank," said Siegwart, "may the accident which has given us
 the pleasure of your agreeable visit, be the occasion of many
 visits in future. I know that as usual you will spend the month
-of May at Frankenhöhe. We are neighbors--this title, in my
+of May at Frankenhöhe. We are neighbors--this title, in my
 opinion, should indicate a friendly intercourse."
 
 "Let it be understood, Herr Siegwart; I accept with pleasure your
 invitation."
 
-On the way to Frankenhöhe Richard walked very slowly, and gazed
+On the way to Frankenhöhe Richard walked very slowly, and gazed
 into the distance before him. He thought of the swallows that
 perched on Angela's shoulders and hands. Their sweet notes still
 echoed in his soul.
@@ -45124,7 +45102,7 @@ not an ultramontane, or the characteristics of the ultramontanes,
 as portrayed in the free-thinking newspapers of the day, were
 erroneous and false.
 
-Buried in such thoughts, he reached Frankenhöhe. As he passed
+Buried in such thoughts, he reached Frankenhöhe. As he passed
 through the yard, he did not observe the carriage that stood
 there. But as he passed under the window, he heard a loud voice,
 and some books were thrown from the window and fell at his feet.
@@ -45162,7 +45140,7 @@ some bad books were included. What kind of writings are these,
 doctor?"
 
 "'Stupid materialistic trash,' said he.' If I had Vogt,
-Moleschott, Colbe, and Büchner here, I would throw them body and
+Moleschott, Colbe, and Büchner here, I would throw them body and
 bones out of the window.'
 
 "I was very much surprised at this declaration, so contrary to
@@ -45495,7 +45473,7 @@ on the subject.
   all those who hear, see, or read these presents, Greeting.
   Whereas, on the daily complaints of the inhabitants, we
   experience that our previous Ordinance and Edict relative to
-  the poor strung Wampum, published under date 30 May, A° 1650,
+  the poor strung Wampum, published under date 30 May, A° 1650,
   for the accommodation and protection of the people, is not
   observed and obeyed according to our good intention and
   meaning; but that, on the contrary, such pay, even for small
@@ -45685,7 +45663,7 @@ he may be," to entertain any company on Sunday or during divine
 service.
 
 18 November, 1661.--They forbid all work on Sunday under "the
-penalty of £1 Flemish for the first time, double as much for the
+penalty of £1 Flemish for the first time, double as much for the
 second time, and _four times double as much_ for the third
 time." (Silent as to the fourth time.)
 
@@ -46805,7 +46783,7 @@ even these great pictures sink to nothingness beside Murillo's
 "Annunciation," his "Adoration of the Shepherds," "Eleazar at the
 Well," "The Martyrdom of St. Andrew," the "Divine Shepherd," the
 Infant Saviour giving St. John to drink from a shell, called "Los
-Niños de la Concha," the "Vision of St. Bernard," and those
+Niños de la Concha," the "Vision of St. Bernard," and those
 wonderful "Conceptions" which embody "all that is most sublime
 and ecstatic in devotion and in the representation of divine
 love."
@@ -46976,7 +46954,7 @@ At length we are cheered by the arrival of a lovely Spanish woman
 and her daughter, who are returning from their estate near by,
 and come, like ourselves, to wait the train for Madrid.
 
-The daughter had been educated in the Sacré Coeur Convent near
+The daughter had been educated in the Sacré Coeur Convent near
 Madrid. Spoke French well. She told us in her lively way that,
 though these plains looked so brown and desert-like, they brought
 good crops and "put money in the pocket," and that back from the
@@ -47002,7 +46980,7 @@ From this we go to the most interesting of all, called the
 "Maison de la Providence," supported by the ladies of rank in
 Madrid, and under the care of the French Sisters of Charity, who
 wear the familiar "cornette." Here, besides _enfants
-trouvés_ and orphans, they have (or had) six hundred poor
+trouvés_ and orphans, they have (or had) six hundred poor
 children, taken out of the streets. Many of these are kept for
 the day, the parents seeking them at night: all of them are
 taught gratuitously. We were shown a room in which forty of the
@@ -47362,7 +47340,7 @@ at either end. The tower of Cambron, one of the great Moorish
 towers, is in front, in which is a lovely statue of St. Leocadia,
 and near the bridge of St. Martin, on the city side, is the site
 of the palace of the Gothic kings. Here are some arches of a ruin
-called "Los Vaños de Florinda"--she who was the daughter of the
+called "Los Vaños de Florinda"--she who was the daughter of the
 apostate Don Julian, and with whose unhappy fate is involved that
 of the last of the Gothic kings.
 
@@ -47559,7 +47537,7 @@ what you promised years ago--your daughter. Sir Ralph de Mohun,
 you were once young, and blood coursed as fiery then as now. Can
 you find it in your heart to separate us? Then, secondly, your
 old friends at court offer entire restitution and pardon, if you
-will accept the new _régime_, with England's faith."
+will accept the new _régime_, with England's faith."
 
 "If I have been true to my country, then must I still be true to
 my God! Philip Stratherne, if I had not loved you from your
@@ -47904,7 +47882,7 @@ political forms, adopting the ideas, the habits, the paltry
 interests of politics.
 
     [Footnote 168: Lest those who may be unacquainted with
-    previous conferences of Père Hyacinthe should interpret this
+    previous conferences of Père Hyacinthe should interpret this
     passage as referring to the temporal power, we subjoin a
     quotation from a conference delivered by him in Notre Dame in
     the year 1867. Speaking of the complications caused by
@@ -48228,7 +48206,7 @@ But you ask me whose is this voice preaching a spiritual kingdom
 to priests, a divine royalty to kings and nations? The voice
 shall interpret itself; it shall tell its origin and mission.
 
-Here Père Hyacinthe relates the famous vision in which Isaiah
+Here Père Hyacinthe relates the famous vision in which Isaiah
 receives his mission after a seraph has purified his lips with a
 burning coal. This is prophecy.
 
@@ -48716,7 +48694,7 @@ pointed by Aretino, whose virulent epigrams drew upon him such an
 amount of physical retaliation that a contemporary writer calls
 him "the loadstone of clubs and daggers." [Footnote 177]
 
-    [Footnote 176: Laharpe. _Cours de Littérature_, vol. i.
+    [Footnote 176: Laharpe. _Cours de Littérature_, vol. i.
     p. 435.]
 
     [Footnote 177: See Addison, _Spectator_, No. 23.]
@@ -48843,7 +48821,7 @@ occasion, a piece of sculpture, representing the ship of
 AEsculapius, was, owing to his exertions, discovered in the
 Tiber. This was considered by his omen-liking friends as an
 augury of his future dignity. The discovery of the famous group
-known as the Laocoön was an epoch in Rome. That evening, the
+known as the Laocoön was an epoch in Rome. That evening, the
 bells were rung to announce the event; the poets, among whom was
 Sadoleti, lucubrated all night, preparing their hymns, sonnets,
 and canzoni, to welcome the reappearance of the masterpiece. Next
@@ -48946,7 +48924,7 @@ which he lived the golden age of Leo the Tenth.
 
   "Humble flowers of religious poetry, and derivations of popular
   expressions and proverbs," is the title given by the authoress
-  to the article headed "Cosas (humildes) de España"
+  to the article headed "Cosas (humildes) de España"
   --_Humble Things of Spain_.
 
 
@@ -49044,7 +49022,7 @@ Now that we are enlightened, we have other uses for our gold, our
 rare objects, and fine arts; for, as the poet says,
 
   "En el sigh diez y nueve
-   Nadie á tener fé se atreve,
+   Nadie á tener fé se atreve,
    Y no huy que en milagros cred." [Footnote 183]
 
     [Footnote 183: In the nineteenth century, no one dares to
@@ -49140,7 +49118,7 @@ company of gipsies. The moment he cast his eyes upon it, he took
 to his heels, exclaiming, "Let some one buy you that don't know
 you."
 
-_Yo te cono cí ciruelo_--I knew you when you were a
+_Yo te cono cí ciruelo_--I knew you when you were a
 plum-tree--is a common saying. The people of a certain village
 bought a plum-tree of a gardener, for the purpose of having it
 converted into an effigy of St. Peter. When the image was
@@ -49149,10 +49127,10 @@ and, observing the somewhat lavish coloring and gilding of its
 drapery, exclaimed:
 
   "Gloriosisimo San Pedro,
-   Yo te cono cí ciruelo,
+   Yo te cono cí ciruelo,
    Y de tu fruta comi;
    Los misagros que tu hagas
-   Que me me los cuelgan á mi!"
+   Que me me los cuelgan á mi!"
 
   "Most glorious Saint Peter!
    I knew you when you were a plum-tree,
@@ -49168,7 +49146,7 @@ _rajas_ are public property, they are distributed at a
 trifling rent to the poorer householders, who are, as will be
 supposed, very anxious to have them. But to obtain one is
 difficult, for the _ayuntamientos_, or town councils,
-generally give them to their _protégés_ and hangers-on; and,
+generally give them to their _protégés_ and hangers-on; and,
 from this circumstance, "He has got a hog-pasture," has come to
 be said of any person that by skill, cunning, audacity, or good
 luck succeeds in obtaining an advantage difficult to get, or of
@@ -49186,7 +49164,7 @@ river.
 {710}
 
 It is usual to indicate that a person is poor by saying, _El
-esta á la cuarta pregunta_--He is at the fourth question. This
+esta á la cuarta pregunta_--He is at the fourth question. This
 assertion is derived from the interrogation of witnesses for the
 defence in suits when, among other circumstances, that of poverty
 is wished to be proved. This extreme being comprehended in the
@@ -49246,10 +49224,10 @@ means of support except the product of his own labor?"
 
         Foreign Literary Notes.
 
-The testimony of so distinguished an authority as M. E. Littré,
+The testimony of so distinguished an authority as M. E. Littré,
 of the French Institute, is now added to that of Digby, Maitland,
 Montalembert, and so many others, to show that the middle ages
-were not "barbarous." M. Littré, as is well known, is very far
+were not "barbarous." M. Littré, as is well known, is very far
 from being a Catholic; but, treating the subject with his great
 erudition from a purely historical point of view, he shows, in
 his _Etudes sur les Barbares et le Moyen Age_, that, after
@@ -49271,7 +49249,7 @@ reason that all its conceptions of man and of liberty were false,
 and it could never raise itself to the idea of a spiritual power
 that was independent of the lay power--on all these points, so
 worthy the attention of the historian, there are, particularly in
-the first two chapters, some admirable pages. M. Littré speaks
+the first two chapters, some admirable pages. M. Littré speaks
 with admiration of the spread of monachism in the west, and
 distinctly recognizes the many great blessings that followed in
 its train. He (p. 3) reproaches Gibbon with having ignored the
@@ -49311,7 +49289,7 @@ first of the reign of humanity."
 ----
 
 In the Foreign Literary Notes of our number for June, we noticed
-an important publication by the Abbé Lamy on the Council of
+an important publication by the Abbé Lamy on the Council of
 Seleuciae, a translation from one of the numerous productions of
 early Syrian literature, so rich in works relative to the church,
 its history, its discipline, and its dogmas. And, in this
@@ -49324,7 +49302,7 @@ second column of the same page.
 
 {712}
 
-This work of the Abbé Lamy is one out of many recent publications
+This work of the Abbé Lamy is one out of many recent publications
 showing the great attention lately given to the monuments of
 early Syrian literature by theologians of Europe. Especially in
 Germany is the activity great in this new field. It has long been
@@ -49390,7 +49368,7 @@ of the Vulgate, with the French translation, and a full body of
 commentaries--theological, moral, philological, and historical,
 edited so as to include the results of the best works in France,
 Italy, Germany, and elsewhere, with a special introduction for
-each book, by the Abbé Drach, D.D., and the Abbé Bayle, Professor
+each book, by the Abbé Drach, D.D., and the Abbé Bayle, Professor
 of the Faculty of Aix.
 
 ----
@@ -49451,7 +49429,7 @@ calculated to throw any light on the events of past centuries. In
 this direction works the Protestant Berner in the _Helvetia
 Sacra_, and the _Pius Verein_ promises great results in a
 collection of which the first volume has lately appeared,
-entitled, _Archiv für die Schweizerische
+entitled, _Archiv für die Schweizerische
 Reformnationsgeschichte. Herausgegeben auf Veranstaltung des
 Schweizerischen Piusvereins_. Erster Band. Solothurn. 8vo, 856
 pp. The central committee of this society consists of Count
@@ -49475,7 +49453,7 @@ five to seven years for publication.
 ----
 
 A recent number of the _Literarischer Handweiser_, edited at
-Münster by Dr. Franz Hülskamp and Dr. Herrmann Rump, contains an
+Münster by Dr. Franz Hülskamp and Dr. Herrmann Rump, contains an
 article on Catholic journalism in the United States. Here is an
 extract:
 
@@ -49541,7 +49519,7 @@ fallen from a respectable position in life to honorable poverty.
 She was their only child, and became a complete orphan at the age
 of nine years. Her education had been provided for, as well as
 circumstances would permit, by her kind-hearted father, in the
-schools established in London by the Abbé Carron, a refugee
+schools established in London by the Abbé Carron, a refugee
 priest of the French revolution. Slender, indeed, were the
 prospects of a poor Catholic orphan girl in the capital of a
 country so full of bigotry as was England in 1811. Having spent a
@@ -49623,8 +49601,8 @@ readers.
 ----
 
   Die Jenseitige Welt.
-  Eine Schrift Über Fegefeuer,
-  Hölle Und Himmel.
+  Eine Schrift Ãœber Fegefeuer,
+  Hölle Und Himmel.
   Von P. Leo Keel, Capitular des
   Stiftes Maria Einsiedeln.
   Einsiedeln, New York,
@@ -51922,7 +51900,7 @@ us; and even some who accept the Biblical history have advanced
 so little in harmonizing their faith with what they call their
 science, that they do not hesitate to suppose that man began his
 career, at least after the prevarication of Adam, in downright
-savagism. Even the learned Döllinger so far falls in with the
+savagism. Even the learned Döllinger so far falls in with the
 modern theory as to make polished gentilism originate in
 disgusting fetichism.
 
@@ -52059,7 +52037,7 @@ social progress. It requires language to invent language, and
 there is no individual progress out of society, and no society is
 possible without language. Hence, animals may be gregarious, but
 not sociable. They do not, and never can, form society. Max
-Müller has disposed of the bow-wow theory, or the origin of
+Müller has disposed of the bow-wow theory, or the origin of
 language in the imitation of the cries of animals, and also of
 the theory that supposes it to originate in the imitation of the
 sounds of nature, as buzz, rattle, etc.; for if a few words could
@@ -52463,7 +52441,7 @@ He put aside the diary, and began reading Vogt's Physiological
 Letters_.
 
 At three o'clock precisely, Richard with the punctual doctor left
-Frankenhöhe. They passed through the chestnut grove and through
+Frankenhöhe. They passed through the chestnut grove and through
 the vineyard toward Salingen. The doctor pushed on with long
 steps, his arms swinging back and forth. He was evidently pleased
 with the subject he had been reading. He had, on leaving the
@@ -52591,7 +52569,7 @@ doctor paused a moment and examined the flowers.
 colors?" said he. "And the forget-me-nots! What a deep religious
 meaning they have."
 
-They returned by another way to Frankenhöhe.
+They returned by another way to Frankenhöhe.
 
 "Angela's pious work," began Richard after a long pause, "reminds
 me of a religious custom against which modern civilization has
@@ -53097,7 +53075,7 @@ While Klingenberg said this, a deep emotion passed over Richard's
 face. He did not answer the question, but let his head sink on
 his breast.
 
-"Here is Frankenhöhe," said the doctor. "As you make no more
+"Here is Frankenhöhe," said the doctor. "As you make no more
 objections, I suppose you agree with me. The saints are great,
 admirable men; therefore they deserve monuments. They are models
 of virtue and the greatest benefactors of mankind; therefore they
@@ -53148,7 +53126,7 @@ Richard wrote in his diary:
   Glad-winged birds, from forest dim,
      Hither fly, where peace long-sought is;
      Sing melodious jubilates,
-  With the blessèd cherubim.
+  With the blessèd cherubim.
      Morning airs, come quick! with tender
      Thrill breathe on the branches slender;
         Breathe and hover!
@@ -53256,7 +53234,7 @@ claim.
 
 On his return from the French service to England, he was
 appointed, by Charles II., a general officer in the English army,
-then destined for Flanders, and had an annual pension of £500
+then destined for Flanders, and had an annual pension of £500
 settled on him for life, in consideration of his losses in
 France. But it is regarded as quite certain that he did not go to
 Flanders under this appointment, to defend and support the
@@ -53529,7 +53507,7 @@ to the lands in Albany, and then granted a charter to that town;
 and he endeavored to bring about the union of New Jersey and
 Connecticut, under one and the same government with New York, as
 a measure of public safety and strength. In 1686, the governor's
-salary was raised from £400 to £600 per annum. The governor's
+salary was raised from £400 to £600 per annum. The governor's
 residence was at the fort, and there was attached to the office
 the products or rents of a farm, called, at various times, the
 governor's, duke's, or king's farm, and of another smaller piece
@@ -53580,7 +53558,7 @@ colony is a document replete with intelligence, vigor, and
 practical experience, and shows that no part of the colony,
 however remote, escaped his attention and care; and no branch of
 the public service was neglected by him. Mr. Santen, the
-collector of the port, became a defaulter to the amount of £3000,
+collector of the port, became a defaulter to the amount of £3000,
 and was the occasion of great embarrassment and loss to Governor
 Dongan, who, however, on his part, acted promptly in the
 premises, by seizing the books of the delinquent official,
@@ -54078,7 +54056,7 @@ collector, because he was a Catholic. The people of Long Island
 deposed their magistrates and elected new ones, and despatched a
 large body of militia to New York, "to seize the fort, and keep
 off popery, French invasion, and slavery." The public money,
-amounting to £773 12s., had been deposited, for safe keeping, in
+amounting to £773 12s., had been deposited, for safe keeping, in
 the fort which was garrisoned by a few soldiers commanded by a
 Catholic ensign. In order to secure this treasure, the popular
 party assembled on the 2d of June, 1689, and seized the fort.
@@ -54178,7 +54156,7 @@ was introduced to William III. as successor of the late Earl of
 Limerick, and the new earl did homage to the king for his
 earldom, and, according to the feudal custom, kissed the king's
 hand on succeeding to the rank. He was allowed by the government,
-about the same time, £2500, in tallies, in part payment for
+about the same time, £2500, in tallies, in part payment for
 advances made by him for public purposes while governor of New
 York. His persevering efforts to recover the estates of his
 deceased brother so far finally succeeded as to induce the
@@ -54253,7 +54231,7 @@ masters. The prediction was beginning to be accomplished.
 
 It was a mild evening in the latter part of September, and a
 large company was assembled at the charming villa of the Baron
-Raimond von Wetzlar, situated near Schönbrunn. They had been
+Raimond von Wetzlar, situated near Schönbrunn. They had been
 invited to be present at a musical contest between the celebrated
 Wolff and Beethoven. The part of Wolff was espoused with great
 enthusiasm by the baron; that of Beethoven by the Prince de
@@ -54658,7 +54636,7 @@ sunken eyes sparkled.
 sang in a low but distinct voice the lines from a hymn of his
 own:
 
-  "Brüder! über'm Sternenzelt,
+  "Brüder! über'm Sternenzelt,
    Muss ein lieber _Vater_ wohnen."
 
 In the last faint tone of
@@ -54698,18 +54676,18 @@ from human brotherhood.
   Though thralls of sin lie lingering in the grave,
   Yet faultless corse with soul reward must have.
 
-  The dazzled eye doth dimmèd light require,
+  The dazzled eye doth dimmèd light require,
     And dying sights repose in shrouding shades;
   But eagles' eyes to brightest light aspire,
     And living looks delight in lofty glades.
-  Faint-wingèd fowl by ground do faintly fly:
+  Faint-wingèd fowl by ground do faintly fly:
   Our princely eagle mounts unto the sky.
 
   Gem to her worth, spouse to her love ascends;
     Prince to her throne, queen to her heavenly king;
   Whose court with solemn pomp on her attends,
     And choirs of saints with greeting notes do sing.
-  Earth rendereth up her undeservèd prey:
+  Earth rendereth up her undeservèd prey:
   Heaven claims the right, and bears the prize away.
 
 			           Southwell.
@@ -55111,7 +55089,7 @@ have little to do with the moral sentiment which Adam Smith
 asserted, or the benevolence which Hucheson held to be the
 principle of morality. There is no approach to the Christian
 principle in the fine-spun sentiment of Bernardine Saint-Pierre,
-Madame de Staël, or Chateaubriand. Sentimentalism, in any form,
+Madame de Staël, or Chateaubriand. Sentimentalism, in any form,
 is wholly foreign to Christian morals and to Christian piety, and
 neither has probably a worse or a more dangerous enemy than the
 sentimentalism so rife in modern society, and which finds its way
@@ -55669,7 +55647,7 @@ their uneasiness, and ordered him south.
 The organist and his sister set out one day, hurrying their
 adieus as people who run away. When they were at the foot of the
 Alps in Italy, they stopped at a sunny little town, a day's
-journey from Milan, which we will call Arèse. Master Swibert was
+journey from Milan, which we will call Arèse. Master Swibert was
 then forty-four.
 
 How this man, who, till now, had lived more like a priest than a
@@ -55816,7 +55794,7 @@ her brother.
 
 {807}
 
-The little boy, named André, seemed to be of a gentle and even
+The little boy, named André, seemed to be of a gentle and even
 weak character. He was the same age as his cousin, but never was
 presented a more perfect contrast.
 
@@ -55908,7 +55886,7 @@ very high bridge. There, continuing to ascend, it makes a circuit
 over a plain of moderate extent, while a narrow and badly
 constructed road, bordering the sides of the ravine, leaves it to
 descend to the magnificent residence which, from time immemorial,
-belongs to the family of the Ligonieri. It is called the Château
+belongs to the family of the Ligonieri. It is called the Château
 Sarrasin.
 
 A view unequalled presents itself from this elevation. Below it,
@@ -55960,8 +55938,8 @@ am going to relate.
 
 This evening, then, the organist and his two children had arrived
 on the elevation that commands the residence of the Ligonieri,
-and were looking about them. There was a _fête_ at the
-Château Sarrasin.
+and were looking about them. There was a _fête_ at the
+Château Sarrasin.
 
 The grand _salon_ of the ground floor was illuminated, and
 crowded with a brilliant assembly of guests. Long waves of light
@@ -56010,8 +55988,8 @@ and discover, also, in the future another abyss still more
 shadowed and more horrible, where, perhaps, will be lost the
 deeply-loved soul of his child.
 
-The guests of the Château Sarrasin heard two cries mingle with
-the joyousness of their _féte_. The organist seized his
+The guests of the Château Sarrasin heard two cries mingle with
+the joyousness of their _féte_. The organist seized his
 child just at the moment when, from the edge of the precipice,
 she would have plunged into eternity.
 
@@ -56035,7 +56013,7 @@ happy he would be if at that moment she would appear. He said,
 The organist walked up and down his room, interrupting, from time
 to time, his monotonous promenade, to listen, in hopes of hearing
 a word, a creaking, a fluttering of a robe. He heard nothing but
-the uncertain step of André, wandering sad and lonely in the
+the uncertain step of André, wandering sad and lonely in the
 parts of the house least occupied.
 
 The hours passed. The organist still waited, his suffering
@@ -56203,7 +56181,7 @@ which had come from himself.
 
                   XVI.
 
-The moment came when André was to be submitted to the proof of a
+The moment came when André was to be submitted to the proof of a
 public education. His uncle considered such a course necessary to
 make him a man. It was decided that he should receive at the
 conservatory of Naples the classic traditions of Italian art. The
@@ -56274,7 +56252,7 @@ Excuse the blindness of a father, if you please.
 
                  XVII.
 
-When the time came for the children to part, André was overcome
+When the time came for the children to part, André was overcome
 in a manner which seemed incompatible with his nature, so
 ordinarily tranquil. The father and daughter returned alone, and
 lived afterward with no other company than themselves. They felt
@@ -56844,7 +56822,7 @@ since Messrs. Frankland and Lockyer, who have undertaken
 investigations on these important points, have not yet finished
 their labors; and what they have as yet communicated to the Royal
 Society of London, and the Academy of Sciences of Paris, is not
-sufficiently detailed. In 1864, Messrs. Plücker and Hittorf
+sufficiently detailed. In 1864, Messrs. Plücker and Hittorf
 discovered that variations in temperature of some of the chemical
 elements, such as hydrogen, nitrogen, sulphur, and selenium,
 caused sudden changes in their spectra. At a certain degree of
@@ -57284,7 +57262,7 @@ circumstances to remain far from me in body.
 
 Fatigued with my long journey, you can imagine I was very glad
 when I reached this city. I hastened to find the _Rue du
-Prieuré_, a narrow, gloomy street, paved with cobble-stones,
+Prieuré_, a narrow, gloomy street, paved with cobble-stones,
 cheerless and uninviting. But about half-way down, I saw a statue
 of Mary Most Pure, in a niche over a large doorway, with her
 all-embracing arms extended in welcome. That was a _sursum
@@ -57347,7 +57325,7 @@ Do you remember reading, in the _Chronicles_ of Sir John
 Froissart, of the Armagnacs, so long at enmity with the house of
 Foix? The first Count of Armagnac, was the founder of St. Oren's
 Priory. He was known by the name of Bernard _le Louche_. He
-made this city the capital of his _comté;_ and one of his
+made this city the capital of his _comté;_ and one of his
 first acts, after his establishment here, was to build this
 monastery. The old parchment in the archives of the priory, quite
 in accordance with the spirit of the times, runs thus:
@@ -57364,7 +57342,7 @@ in accordance with the spirit of the times, runs thus:
 The site selected for the erection of this monastery was on the
 banks of a branch of the Garonne, at the foot of an old city
 known in the time of the Caesars as Climberris, and built _en
-amphithéatre_, with superb terraces, upon the side of an
+amphithéatre_, with superb terraces, upon the side of an
 elevation. It was fitting that the abbey, which Count Bernard had
 founded for the spiritual weal of himself and his posterity, and
 endowed with "lands and livings many a rood," should find shelter
@@ -57397,7 +57375,7 @@ abode hard by. Other saints too have lived on the same spot, and
 their bodies were enshrined hereon after their spirits had passed
 away.
 {831}
-St. Taurin, St. Oren, St. Léothade, St. Austinde, names ever
+St. Taurin, St. Oren, St. Léothade, St. Austinde, names ever
 venerable to the heart of an Auscitain, living in the shadow of
 your shrines, sheltered by your votaries who merit for me your
 protection, I should be ungrateful to you, untrue to my own
@@ -57462,7 +57440,7 @@ forty-five of these symbolical names in seven verses. Clement of
 Alexandria, in his hymn to our Saviour, gives ten. St. Cyril
 mentions twelve, in a sermon.
 {832}
-The list of St. Phébade of Agen, in the fourth century, comprises
+The list of St. Phébade of Agen, in the fourth century, comprises
 twenty-one. The _Nomenclature_ of Constantinople mentions
 twelve; that of Rome, twenty-two; but that of St. Oren, composed
 in his solitude of Bigorre, gives, in five distichs, fifty-two of
@@ -57537,7 +57515,7 @@ pursued him and brought him back to his post, where his piety,
 his talents, and the miracles he wrought, gave him preeminence
 among all the bishops of Aquitaine. When Theodoric I., King of
 the Visigoths, was besieged at Toulouse, by Lictorius, lieutenant
-of the celebrated Aétius, the former sent St. Oren, with several
+of the celebrated Aétius, the former sent St. Oren, with several
 other bishops, to arrange terms of peace with the Roman
 commander. Lictorius received them with haughty contempt, and,
 sure of victory, rejected all their propositions. Then Theodoric
@@ -57588,9 +57566,9 @@ of the Algersius. At the foot, toward the south, lies the convent
 garden, with its wells, its almond-trees, acacias, vines, and
 rose-bushes--loved haunts of the nightingales, which I heard
 there for the first time in my life. On the east passes the
-_route impériale_, beneath the very convent walls, and
+_route impériale_, beneath the very convent walls, and
 beyond, parallel with it, flows the river which gives its name to
-the _département_. Centuries ago, when the country was more
+the _département_. Centuries ago, when the country was more
 thickly wooded, it is said to have been a navigable river, and
 merited to be sung by Fortunatus, who was a poet as well as
 bishop. The eastern bank is shaded by a long grove of noble
@@ -57674,7 +57652,7 @@ between natural affection and a sense of duty which produced so
 violent a fever. This act of self-denial affected me deeply.
 
 One Saturday, at about half-past eight in the morning, I was
-hastily summoned by the Mère St. J---- to go to the infirmary,
+hastily summoned by the Mère St. J---- to go to the infirmary,
 for Sister Sophie was dying. I hurried down. Poor Sophie lay,
 ghastly white, with her crucifix in her hands. Her rosary and
 girdle lay, on the bed, at the foot of which was placed an
@@ -57683,12 +57661,12 @@ opening of which reposed a dove--emblem of the soul that trusts
 in the Saviour. She was perfectly calm. There was not a sign of
 apprehension. Her brother-in-law, who was her physician, stood by
 her bedside, and said she could not survive the day. Her
-confessor, the Abbé de B----, a venerable priest of more than
+confessor, the Abbé de B----, a venerable priest of more than
 four score years, asked if she had any thing on her conscience.
 She shook her head. Her soul was clad in its pure bridal robe,
 ready for the marriage supper of the Lamb. All went to the
 chapel, and, with lighted tapers, two and two, followed the holy
-viaticum to the infirmary. It was borne by the _curé_ in a
+viaticum to the infirmary. It was borne by the _curé_ in a
 silver ciborium, and placed on an altar erected in the middle of
 the room. It was a most solemn scene--the nuns kneeling all
 around with wax tapers in their hands, their heads bowed down in
@@ -57768,7 +57746,7 @@ which they went in procession to the cemetery.
 {836}
 First were three acolytes, the middle one bearing an immense
 silver cross, which gleamed aloft in the departing sunlight; and
-the other two bore the censer and the _bénitier;_ then came
+the other two bore the censer and the _bénitier;_ then came
 the priests, two and two, chanting the _Miserere_. The
 coffin followed, borne on a bier by six peasant women dressed in
 white, with curious white caps and kerchiefs. Their sepulchral
@@ -57833,7 +57811,7 @@ to refrain from an 'Ora pro nobis!'"
 In this chapel Mary has been honored for ages. The chronicles of
 the priory tell us that in the days of the monks of St. Benedict
 crowds of the faithful filled, as now, this chapel on the eighth
-of December, its patronal _féte_. The deep-toned voices that
+of December, its patronal _féte_. The deep-toned voices that
 then chanted the praises of Mary have died away, but the notes
 have been caught up and continued in softer, sweeter tones by the
 lips of the spouses of Christ.
@@ -57884,7 +57862,7 @@ church, and
 The _Suisse_, who was an old soldier under Napoleon I., and
 was in the Russian campaign, locked us in, free to wander at will
 and unremarked in this vast cathedral, with the excellent
-_Monographie_ by the learned Abbé Canéto in hand. At the
+_Monographie_ by the learned Abbé Canéto in hand. At the
 very portal we passed over the tomb of an old archbishop, who
 wished through humility to be buried under the pavement of the
 principal entrance to the church, that he might be trodden under
@@ -58030,11 +58008,11 @@ have the ears to understand it." As Longfellow says:
   interpretation, Upward, the vision and mystery!"
 
 In the undercroft of the cathedral reposes, among other saints,
-the body of St. Léothade. He was of royal blood, being a near
+the body of St. Léothade. He was of royal blood, being a near
 relative of Eudes, Duke of Aquitaine, who was of the race of
 Clotaire II. He was also related to Charles Martel, and to the
 well-known sylvan saint, Hubert, who was contemporary with St.
-Léothade, and a native of this part of France. St. Léothade
+Léothade, and a native of this part of France. St. Léothade
 embraced the monastic state early in life, and, after being abbot
 at Moissac, was called to govern this diocese, which he did for
 twenty-seven years. In the wars between Charles Martel and Eudes
@@ -58045,13 +58023,13 @@ Auscitains.
 His tomb is all sculptured with the symbols of our Saviour--the
 fish, wine, etc.
 
-St. Léothade is invoked in various diseases, particularly for
+St. Léothade is invoked in various diseases, particularly for
 epilepsy.
 
-Through the kindness of the _mère prieure_ I had the
+Through the kindness of the _mère prieure_ I had the
 privilege of assisting at the office of Holy Week at St. Mary's
 Cathedral. I witnessed all those affecting rites from the
-_jubé_, or rood-loft, which is reached by a dark, winding
+_jubé_, or rood-loft, which is reached by a dark, winding
 stairway in one of the huge pillars. My position was one of
 seclusion, and yet overlooked both the choir and the nave. To
 fully appreciate the ceremonies of the church, one must witness
@@ -58136,12 +58114,12 @@ from the valley, but rather ugly when one has mounted the weary
 flights of steps, and gained its heart. The streets are mostly
 narrow and treeless, but there are two promenades with fine old
 trees, and the public buildings are a credit to the place. There
-is a _grand_ and _petit séminiaire_ here, a lyceum,
+is a _grand_ and _petit séminiaire_ here, a lyceum,
 normal school, two boarding-schools, besides several day and free
 schools; so there is no lack for means of instruction.
 
 The famous Nostradamus, renowned for his _Centuries
-prophétiques_, was once a professor in this place. And St.
+prophétiques_, was once a professor in this place. And St.
 Francis Regis was regent of the Jesuits' college which was here
 before the suppression of that order in the last century.
 
@@ -58187,10 +58165,10 @@ On Easter-Sunday I saw something at St. Mary's quite new to me.
 After mass, a basket of bread was blessed, broken in pieces, and
 passed around the church. All took a piece, made the sign of the
 cross, and said a short prayer before eating it. This _pain
-bénti_ is in commemoration of the _Agapae_ of the
+bénti_ is in commemoration of the _Agapae_ of the
 primitive Christians, I suppose. It is a common custom here.
 While still at our devotions, a man came around with a dish,
-saying in a queer, sing-song tone, _Pour les ámes du
+saying in a queer, sing-song tone, _Pour les ámes du
 Purgatoire_, (For the souls in purgatory,) and offered the
 dish as if doing you a favor to receive your mite, which,
 perhaps, was right enough.
@@ -58259,7 +58237,7 @@ taken prisoner, and had to pay a ransom of one thousand livres.
 Count Bernard VII. is the most famous of the Armagnacs. He was
 the fifteenth count. His daughter Bonne married Charles, Duke of
 Orleans, then only nineteen years of age, and the son of the Duc
-d'Orléans who was killed by Jean-sans-peur, Duke of Burgundy.
+d'Orléans who was killed by Jean-sans-peur, Duke of Burgundy.
 Count Bernard became, by the youth of his son-in-law, the head of
 the Orleans faction against the Burgundians. He was made
 constable of France in 1415. To the dignity of supreme commander
@@ -58310,19 +58288,19 @@ the place.
 The lands of Count John were united to the crown of France. His
 brother Charles, who had been kept prisoner for fifteen years,
 was finally restored to liberty, and to the possession of the
-Comté d'Armagnac in 1483. He married Jane of Foix, who had no
+Comté d'Armagnac in 1483. He married Jane of Foix, who had no
 children; but he left a natural son, the Baron de Caussade, whose
 only son, George d'Armagnac, embraced the ecclesiastical state,
 and became a cardinal. He was the last of the male line of the
 Armagnacs.
 
-The Comté d'Armagnac was afterward given by Louis XII. as the
+The Comté d'Armagnac was afterward given by Louis XII. as the
 dowry of his niece, Margaret of Valois, when she married Charles
-d'Alençon, the grandson of Marie d'Armagnac, daughter of Count
+d'Alençon, the grandson of Marie d'Armagnac, daughter of Count
 John IV. Charles dying without children, Margaret married Henri
 d'Albret, King of Navarre, who descended from a daughter of Count
 Bernard VII. of Armagnac. Henri Quatre, King of France, was their
-grandson, and from his time the Comté d'Armagnac has been
+grandson, and from his time the Comté d'Armagnac has been
 permanently united to the crown.
 
 Louis XIV., after consummating his marriage at St. Jean de Luz,
@@ -58343,7 +58321,7 @@ nostris!_"
 
 
 Last evening I went to the cathedral to hear Hermann improvise
-upon the organ, or, I should say, Frère Augustin, for he is a
+upon the organ, or, I should say, Frère Augustin, for he is a
 barefooted Carmelite monk. He was the favorite pupil of Liszt,
 under whose instructions he became a celebrated musical artist
 and composer. He was miraculously converted at Paris some years
@@ -58362,7 +58340,7 @@ which the tongue knows not how to express. That of Hermann
 partakes of the enthusiasm and tenderness of his nature.
 
 I stationed myself at the baptismal font, that I might see the
-frère as he came down from the tribune. He was dressed in the
+frère as he came down from the tribune. He was dressed in the
 costume of his order, which is of the natural color of the wool.
 His cowl was thrown back. His head was shaven closely with the
 exception of a circlet of hair, as we see in pictures. He is an
@@ -58378,8 +58356,8 @@ beautiful, particularly the one entitled _Quam dilecta
 Tabernacula Tua!_ I quote two verses from it:
 
   "Ils ne sont plus les jours de larmes:
-     J'ai retrouvé la paix du coeur
-   Depuis que j'ai goûté les charmes
+     J'ai retrouvé la paix du coeur
+   Depuis que j'ai goûté les charmes
      Des tabernacles du Seigneur!
 
   "Trop long-temps, brebis fugitive,
@@ -58960,7 +58938,7 @@ in the next number of _The Catholic World_.
 _Fernan Caballero._ Here I am, Aunt Sebastiana, with a fixed
 intention to make you tell me a story.
 
-_Aunt Sebastiana_. Say that to my Juan, señor; he can tell
+_Aunt Sebastiana_. Say that to my Juan, señor; he can tell
 no end of stories, and when he don't remember them, he makes them
 to suit himself.
 
@@ -58968,7 +58946,7 @@ _Fernan_. Here comes Uncle Romance, who, if he wants a cigar
 and desires to give me pleasure, will tell me the story you have
 promised me in his name.
 
-_Uncle Romance_. You must know then, señor, that there was
+_Uncle Romance_. You must know then, señor, that there was
 once a man who lived gayly, without thinking of to-morrow; and,
 since to spend, to owe, and not to pay, is the way to the
 poorhouse, our man soon found himself without _hacienda_,
@@ -59023,7 +59001,7 @@ the little fairy-man, appearing in the form of a cavalier, in the
 crotch of the tree. "Hang myself like a string of garlics from a
 kitchen ceiling," answered Uncle Curro quite composedly. "So you
 have lost patience, again?" "And if I have nothing to eat,
-señor?" "' It is your own fault, your fault; but--go away. Take
+señor?" "' It is your own fault, your fault; but--go away. Take
 this table-cloth, and while you keep it you will never find
 yourself without something to eat." Then the little fairy-man
 gave him a table-cloth, and disappeared among the branches.
@@ -59584,363 +59562,4 @@ Roman periodical,
 End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Catholic World, Vol. 09, April,
 1869-September, 1869, by Various
 
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CATHOLIC WORLD, APR/1869-SEPT/1869 ***
-
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+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 57439 ***
diff --git a/57439-h/57439-h.htm b/57439-h/57439-h.htm
index 7eff2e3..f78fdba 100644
--- a/57439-h/57439-h.htm
+++ b/57439-h/57439-h.htm
@@ -99,40 +99,7 @@ td
 <body>
 
 
-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Catholic World, Vol. 09, April,
-1869-September, 1869, by Various
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Catholic World, Vol. 09, April, 1869-September, 1869
-
-Author: Various
-
-Release Date: July 3, 2018 [EBook #57439]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CATHOLIC WORLD, APR/1869-SEPT/1869 ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Don Kostuch
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 57439 ***</div>
 
 
 <p>
@@ -179,65515 +146,7 @@ Produced by Don Kostuch
 <span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_iii">{iii}</a></span>
 
           <h2>Contents.</h2>
-<pre>
-  Aubrey de Vere in America, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>.
-  A Chinese Husband's Lament for his Wife, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.
-  Angela, <a href="#Page_634">634</a>, <a href="#Page_756">756</a>.
-  Antiquities of New York, <a href="#Page_652">652</a>.
-  All for the Faith, <a href="#Page_684">684</a>.
-
-  Bishops of Rome, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.
-  Beethoven, <a href="#Page_523">523</a>, <a href="#Page_607">607</a>, <a href="#Page_783">783</a>.
-
-  Catholic and Protestant Countries, Morality of, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.
-  Catholicity and Pantheism, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_554">554</a>.
-  Chinese Husband's Lament for his Wife, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.
-  Council of the Vatican, The Approaching, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>.
-  Columbus at Salamanca, <a href="#Page_433">433</a>.
-  Council of Baltimore, The Second Plenary, <a href="#Page_497">497</a>.
-  Church, Our Established, <a href="#Page_577">577</a>.
-  Charms of Nativity, <a href="#Page_660">660</a>.
-  Conversion of Rome, The, <a href="#Page_790">790</a>.
-
-  Daybreak, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_442">442</a>, <a href="#Page_588">588</a>, <a href="#Page_721">721</a>.
-  Duration of Life, Influence of Locality on, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.
-  De Vere, Aubrey, in America, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>.
-  Dongan, Hon. Thomas, <a href="#Page_767">767</a>.
-
-  Emily Linder, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>.
-  Educational Question, The, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.
-
-  Filial Affection, as Practised by the Chinese, <a href="#Page_416">416</a>.
-  Foreign Literary Notes, <a href="#Page_429">429</a>, <a href="#Page_711">711</a>.
-  Faith, All for the, <a href="#Page_684">684</a>.
-
-  General Council, The Approaching, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>.
-  Good Old Saxon, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>.
-
-  Heremore Brandon, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>.
-
-  Ireland, Modern Street Ballads of, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>.
-  Irish Church Act of 1869, The, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>.
-  Immigration, The Philosophy of, <a href="#Page_399">399</a>.
-  Ireland, A Glimpse of, <a href="#Page_738">738</a>.
-
-  Jewish Church, Letter and Spirit in the, <a href="#Page_690">690</a>.
-
-  Linder, Emily, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>.
-  Lecky on Morals, <a href="#Page_529">529</a>.
-  Letter and Spirit in the Jewish Church, <a href="#Page_690">690</a>.
-  Leo X. and his Age, <a href="#Page_699">699</a>.
-  Little Flowers of Spain, <a href="#Page_706">706</a>.
-
-  Morality of Catholic and Protestant Countries, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.
-  My Mother's Only Son, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>.
-  Man, Primeval, <a href="#Page_746">746</a>.
-  Moral Aspects of Romanism, <a href="#Page_845">845</a>.
-  Matanzas, How it came to be called Matanzas, <a href="#Page_852">852</a>.
-
-  New-York, Antiquities of, <a href="#Page_652">652</a>.
-  Nativity, The Charms of, <a href="#Page_660">660</a>.
-
-  Omnibus, The, Two Hundred Years Ago, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>.
-  Our Established Church, <a href="#Page_577">577</a>.
-
-  Pope Joan, Fable of, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>.
-  Problems of the Age and its Critics, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>.
-  Pope or People, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.
-  Physical Basis of Life, The, <a href="#Page_467">467</a>.
-  Primeval Man, <a href="#Page_746">746</a>.
-  Paganina, <a href="#Page_803">803</a>.
-
-  Rome, The Bishops of, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.
-  Ravignan, Xavier de, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.
-  Ruined Life, A, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.
-  Roses, The Geography of, <a href="#Page_406">406</a>.
-  Religion Emblemed in Flowers, <a href="#Page_541">541</a>.
-  Rome, Conversion of, <a href="#Page_790">790</a>.
-  Recent Scientific Discoveries, <a href="#Page_814">814</a>.
-
-  Spain, Two Months in, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>, <a href="#Page_477">477</a>, <a href="#Page_675">675</a>.
-  Spiritism and Spirits, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>.
-  Supernatural, The, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>.
-  St. Mary's, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>.
-  St. Peter, First Bishop of Rome, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>.
-  Spanish Life and Character, <a href="#Page_413">413</a>.
-  Sauntering, <a href="#Page_459">459</a>, <a href="#Page_612">612</a>.
-  Sister Aloyse's Bequest, <a href="#Page_489">489</a>.
-  St. Thomas, The Legend of, <a href="#Page_512">512</a>.
-  Spiritualism and Materialism, <a href="#Page_619">619</a>.
-  Spain, Little Flowers of, <a href="#Page_706">706</a>.
-  Scientific Discoveries, Recent, <a href="#Page_814">814</a>.
-  St. Oren's Priory, <a href="#Page_829">829</a>.
-
-  The Woman Question, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.
-  The Omnibus Two Hundred Years Ago, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>.
-  To those who tell us what Time it is, <a href="#Page_565">565</a>.
-  The New Englander on the Moral Aspects of Romanism, <a href="#Page_845">845</a>.
-
-  Woman Question, The, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.
-</pre>
-<hr>
-
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_iv">{iv}</a></span>
-
-            <h2>Poetry</h2>
-<pre>
-  A May Flower, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>.
-  A May Carol, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>.
-
-  Faith, <a href="#Page_540">540</a>.
-
-  Lent, 1869, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>.
-
-  March Omens, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.
-  May Flower, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>.
-  May Carol, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>.
-  Mark IV., <a href="#Page_587">587</a>.
-  Mother's Prayer, A, <a href="#Page_673">673</a>.
-
-  Our Lady's Easter, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>.
-
-  Sick, <a href="#Page_852">852</a>.
-
-  To a Favorite Madonna, <a href="#Page_564">564</a>.
-  The Pearl and the Poison, <a href="#Page_710">710</a>.
-  The Flight into Egypt, <a href="#Page_766">766</a>.
-  The Assumption of Our Lady, <a href="#Page_789">789</a>.
-
-  Vigil, <a href="#Page_405">405</a>.
-
-  When, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>.
-  Waiting, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>.
-</pre>
-<hr>
-
-         <h2>New Publications.</h2>
-<br>
-<pre>
-  Allies's Formation of Christendom, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>.
-  Anne Séverin, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>.
-  Auerbach's Black Forest, <a href="#Page_424">424</a>.
-  Ark of the Covenant, The, <a href="#Page_427">427</a>.
-  Ark of Elm Island, <a href="#Page_428">428</a>.
-  Alice's Adventures in Wonder Land, <a href="#Page_429">429</a>.
-  Alice Murray, <a href="#Page_570">570</a>.
-  Appleton's Annual Cyclopaedia, <a href="#Page_719">719</a>.
-  An American Woman in Europe, <a href="#Page_856">856</a>.
-  A German Reader, <a href="#Page_859">859</a>.
-
-  Brickmose's Travels, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>.
-  Bacon's False and True Definitions of Faith, <a href="#Page_422">422</a>.
-  Banim's Life and Works, <a href="#Page_716">716</a>.
-
-  Costello, John M., <a href="#Page_143">143</a>.
-  Conyngham's Irish Brigade, <a href="#Page_720">720</a>.
-  Cantarium Romanum, etc., <a href="#Page_856">856</a>.
-
-  Dublin Review, The, <a href="#Page_426">426</a>.
-  Dolby's Church Embroidery and Vestments, <a href="#Page_427">427</a>.
-  Dotty Dimple Stories, <a href="#Page_428">428</a>.
-  Die Alte und Neue Welt. <a href="#Page_575">575</a>.
-  Die Jenseitige Welt, <a href="#Page_715">715</a>.
-  Divorce, Essay on, <a href="#Page_860">860</a>.
-
-  Eudoxia, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>.
-
-  Free Masons, The, <a href="#Page_426">426</a>.
-  Fernecliffe, <a href="#Page_428">428</a>.
-  Fénélon's Conversations with de Ramsai, <a href="#Page_573">573</a>.
-
-  Glimpses of Pleasant Homes, <a href="#Page_423">423</a>.
-
-  Hewit's Medical Profession and the Educated Classes, <a href="#Page_423">423</a>.
-  Herbert's, Lady, Love; or, Self-Sacrifice, <a href="#Page_574">574</a>.
-  Heat, The Laws of, <a href="#Page_576">576</a>.
-  Habermeister, The, <a href="#Page_719">719</a>.
-
-  Juliette, <a href="#Page_429">429</a>.
-
-  Life and Works of AEngussius, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>.
-  Little Women, <a href="#Page_576">576</a>.
-  Lover's Poetical Works, <a href="#Page_859">859</a>.
-
-  McSherry's Essays, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.
-  Montarges Legacy, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>.
-  McClure's Poems, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>.
-  Manual of General History, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>.
-  Martineau's Biographical Sketches, <a href="#Page_425">425</a>.
-  Müller's Chips from a German Workshop, <a href="#Page_571">571</a>.
-  Mental Photographs, <a href="#Page_576">576</a>.
-  Mother Margaret M. Hallahan, Life of, <a href="#Page_714">714</a>.
-  Meditations on the Suffering of our Lord Jesus Christ, <a href="#Page_856">856</a>.
-
-  Nature and Grace, <a href="#Page_574">574</a>.
-  Notre Dame, Silver Jubilee of, <a href="#Page_858">858</a>.
-  Nora Brady's Vow, <a href="#Page_859">859</a>.
-
-  Oxenham on the Atonement, <a href="#Page_568">568</a>.
-
-  Pastoral of the Archbishop of Baltimore, <a href="#Page_571">571</a>,
-  Problematic Characters, <a href="#Page_717">717</a>.
-
-  Reminiscences of Mendelssohn, <a href="#Page_428">428</a>.
-  Report on Gun-shot Wounds, <a href="#Page_857">857</a>.
-
-  Sunday-School Class-Book, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>.
-  Studious Women, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>.
-  Salt-Water Dick, <a href="#Page_428">428</a>.
-  Sogarth Aroon, <a href="#Page_719">719</a>.
-  Service Manual, Military, <a href="#Page_857">857</a>.
-
-  Thunder and Lightning, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>.
-  Twelve Nights in a Hunter's Camp, <a href="#Page_427">427</a>.
-  Taine's Italy, Florence, etc., <a href="#Page_574">574</a>.
-  The Fisher Maiden, <a href="#Page_576">576</a>.
-  The Two Schools, <a href="#Page_859">859</a>.
-  The Irish Widow's Son, <a href="#Page_860">860</a>.
-
-  Veith's Instruments of the Passion, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>.
-
-  Wonders of Optics, The, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>.
-  Why Men do not Believe, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>.
-  Wiseman's Meditations, <a href="#Page_421">421</a>.
-  Winifred, <a href="#Page_575">575</a>.
-  Warwick, <a href="#Page_716">716</a>.
-  Walter Savage Landor, <a href="#Page_718">718</a>.
-  Wandering Recollections of a Busy Life, <a href="#Page_718">718</a>.
-  Way of Salvation, The, <a href="#Page_859">859</a>.
-
-  Young Christian's Library, <a href="#Page_719">719</a>.
-</pre>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1">{1}</a></span>
-
-       <h1>The Catholic World.</h1>
-
-<hr>
-
-   <h3>Vol. IX., No. 49. April, 1869.</h3>
-
-<hr>
-
-        <h2>The Fable Of Pope Joan.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">
-  "But avoid foolish and old wives' fables."&mdash;I Tim. iv. 7.
-</p>
-<p>
-Every one is more or less familiar with the story of a female
-pope, which runs thus: Pope Leo IV. died in 855, and in the
-catalogue of Popes Benedict III. appears as his successor. This,
-claim the Joan story-tellers, is incorrect; for between Leo and
-Benedict the papal throne was for more than two years occupied by
-a woman. Her name is not permitted to appear in the list of
-popes, for the reason that historians devoted to the interests of
-the church desired to throw the veil of oblivion over so
-sacrilegious a scandal, and here, say they, is the true account
-of the affair.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the death of Leo IV. the clergy and people of Rome met to
-elect his successor, and they chose a young priest, a comparative
-stranger in Rome, who during his short residence there had
-acquired an immense reputation for learning and virtue, and who,
-on becoming pope, assumed the name of John VII., or, according to
-some, John VIII. [Footnote 1]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 1: And it was the most convenient one to take.
-    Before 855 there were seven popes named John, and at the
-    period when the story began to spread there had been
-    twenty-one.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, the pope so elected was, in fact, a woman, the daughter of
-an English couple travelling in Germany. She was born in Fulda,
-where she grew up and was well educated. Disguised as a man, she
-entered the monastery at Fulda, where she remained undiscovered
-for years, and from which she eventually eloped with a monk. They
-fled to England, thence to France and Italy, and finally to
-Greece. They were both profoundly versed in all the science of
-the day, and went to Athens to study the literature and language
-of that country. Here the monk died. Giovanna (her name was also
-Gilberta or Agnes, according to the fancy of the writer)
-[Footnote 2] then left Athens and went to Rome, where her
-reputation for learning and the fame of her virtue soon spread.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 2:  Her maiden name was for the first time given at
-    end of 14th century. It was then Agnes.]
-</p>
-<p>
-She gave public lectures and disputations, to which she attracted
-immense crowds of hearers, all delighted with her exemplary piety
-and astonished at her matchless learning.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2">{2}</a></span>
-<p>
-All the students of Rome, and even professors, flocked to hear
-her. On the death of Leo, she was elected pope by the clergy and
-people of Rome from among many men preëminent for their learning
-and virtue. After governing with great wisdom for more than two
-years&mdash;there being not the slightest suspicion of her sex&mdash;she
-left the Vatican on a certain festival at the head of the clergy,
-to walk in procession to the Lateran; but on the way was seized
-with the pains of labor, and in the open street, amid the
-astounded bishops and clergy and surrounding concourse of people,
-then and there gave birth to a child&mdash;and died. After this
-occurrence, it was determined that the pontiff in procession
-should never pass that desecrated street, and a statue was placed
-on the spot to perpetuate the infamy of the fact, and a certain
-ceremony, minutely described, was ordained to be observed at the
-consecration of all future popes, in order to prevent the
-possibility of any similar scandal.
-</p>
-<p>
-Of course there are numerous versions of the narrative,
-infinitely varied in every detail, as is apt to be the case with
-any story starting from no place or person in particular and
-contributed to by everybody in general.
-</p>
-<p>
-As told, this incident is supposed to fill every polemical
-Protestant with delight, and to fill convicted Catholics with
-what Carlyle calls "astonishment and unknown pangs."
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, granting every tittle of the story as related to be true, we
-see no good reason for delight on one side nor pangs on the
-other. We repeat, conceding its entire truth, there is nothing in
-the story that necessarily entails injury or disgrace on the
-Catholic Church. Why should it? Catholic morality and doctrine do
-not depend upon the personal qualities of popes. In this case,
-supposing the story true, who was elected pope? A man&mdash;as all
-concerned honestly believed&mdash;of acknowledged learning and virtue.
-There was no intrigue, no improper influence; and those who
-elected him had no share in the imposture, but were the victims,
-not the participators, of the deceit practised. The cunning and
-the imposture were all hers, and her crime consisted, not in
-being delivered in the streets, but in not having lived chastely.
-True, it was a scandalous accident; but the scandal could not add
-to the original immorality of which, in all the world, but two
-persons were guilty, and guilty in secret&mdash;for there is no
-pretence, in all the versions, that the outward life of the
-pretended she-pope was otherwise than blameless and even
-edifying. Those who elected her were totally ignorant of her
-sex&mdash;an ignorance entirely excusable&mdash;an error of fact brought
-about by artful imposture. To their honor be it said, that they
-recognized in their choice the sole merits of piety and learning,
-and wished to reward them.
-</p>
-<p>
-But a female pope was once the head of the church! Dreadful
-reproach to come from those who call themselves Reformed,
-Evangelical, and Puritans, who have not only tolerated but
-established, nay, and even forced some queens and princesses to
-declare themselves Head of the Church or Defender of the Faith in
-their own dominions, and dispose&mdash;as one of them does to this
-day&mdash;of church dignities and benefices, and order other matters
-ecclesiastical according to their personal will and pleasure.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us now look into the story and examine the testimony on which
-it is founded. The popess is said to have reigned two years and
-more. Rome was then the greatest city and the very centre of the
-civilized world, and always full of strangers from all parts of
-the earth.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3">{3}</a></span>
-The catastrophe of the discovery brought about by the street
-delivery took place under the eyes of a vast multitude of people,
-and must have been known on the same day to the entire city
-before the sun had set. An event so strange, so romantic, so
-astounding, so scandalous, concerning the most exalted personage
-in the world, must surely have been written about or chronicled
-by the Italians who were there, and reported by letter or word of
-mouth by foreigners to their friends at home, and found its way
-from a thousand sources into the writings of the time; for it
-must be remembered the pope, of all living men, was of especial
-interest to the class who at that period were in the habit of
-writing. Such testimony as this, being the evidence of
-eye-witnesses, would be the highest testimony, and would settle
-the fact beyond dispute. Where is it? Silence profound is our
-only answer. Nothing of the kind is on the record of that period.
-Ah! then in that case we must suppose the matter to have been
-temporarily hushed up, and we will consent to receive accounts
-written ten, twenty&mdash;well, we'll not haggle about a score or
-two&mdash;or even fifty years later. Silence again! Not a scrap, not a
-solitary line can be found.
-</p>
-<p>
-And so we travel through all the history which learning and
-industry have been able to rescue from the re-cords of the past
-down to the end of the ninth century, and find the same unbroken
-silence.
-</p>
-<p>
-We must then go to the tenth century, where the murder will
-surely out. Silence again, deep and profound, through all the
-long years from 900 to 1000, and all is blank as before!
-</p>
-<p>
-And now we again go on beyond another half-century, still void of
-all mention of Pope Joan, until we reach the year 1058, just two
-hundred and three years after the assigned Joanide.
-</p>
-<p>
-In that year a monk, Marianus Scotus, of the monastery of Fulda,
-commenced a universal chronicle, which was terminated in 1083.
-Somewhere between these dates, in recording the events of 855, he
-is said to have written: "Leo the Pope died on the 1st of August.
-To him succeeded John, who was a woman, and sat for two years,
-five months, and four days." Only this and nothing more. Not a
-word of her age, origin, qualities, or circumstances of her
-death. So far it is not much of a story; but little by little,
-link by link, line by line, like unto the veridical and melodious
-narrative of <i>The House that Jack built</i>, we'll contrive to
-make a good story of it yet. The statement first appears in
-Marianus. So much is certain. For during the seventeenth century,
-when the Joan controversy raged, and cartloads of books and
-pamphlets were written on the subject&mdash;a mere list of the titles
-of which would exceed the limits of this article&mdash;every library
-and collection in Europe was ransacked with the furious industry
-of which a polemic writer is alone capable, for every&mdash;even the
-smallest&mdash;fragment or thread connected with this subject.
-Nevertheless, this ransacking was neither so thorough nor so
-successful as during the present century; for, as the learned
-Döllinger states, "it is only within forty years that all the
-European collections of mediaeval MSS. have been investigated
-with unprecedented care, every library, nook, and corner
-thoroughly searched, and a surprising quantity of hitherto
-unknown historical documents brought to light."
-</p>
-<p>
-Comparing the so-called statement of Marianus with the latest
-sensational and circumstantial relation, it is plain that the
-story did not, like Minerva, spring full-armed into life, but
-that it is the result of a long and gradual growth, fostered by
-the genius of a long series of inventive chroniclers.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4">{4}</a></span>
-<p>
-But where did the monk of Fulda get the story? Ah! here is an
-interesting episode. His chronicle was first printed at Basle
-(1559) from the text known as the Latomus MS. Its editor was John
-Herold, a Calvinist of note, who, in printing the pas-sage in
-question, quietly left out the words of the original, "<i>ut
-asseritur</i>"&mdash;that is to say, "as report goes," or "believe it
-who will"&mdash;thus changing the chronicler's hearsay to a direct and
-positive assertion.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the testimony of the Marianus chronicle comes to still
-greater grief, And here a word of explanation. The Original MS.
-Of Marianus is not known to exist, but we have numerous copies of
-it, the respective ages of which are well ascertained. Döllinger
-mentions two of them well known in Germany to be the oldest in
-existence, in which not a word concerning the popess can be
-found. The copy in which it is found is of 1513, and the
-explanation as to its appearance there is simple. The passage in
-question was doubtless put in the margin by some reader or
-copyist, and by some later copyist inserted in the text, And so
-we return to the original dark silence in which we started.
-</p>
-<p>
-A feeble attempt was made to claim that Sigbert of Gembloux, who
-died in 1113, had recorded the story; but it was triumphantly
-demonstrated that it was first added to his chronicle in an
-edition of 1513. The same attempt was made with Gottfried's
-<i>Pantheon</i> and the chronicle of Otto von Freysingen, and
-also lamentably failed. In 1261, there died a certain Stephen of
-Bourbon, a French Dominican, who left a work in which he speaks
-of the popess, and says he got the statement from a chronicle
-which must have been that of Jean de Mailly, a brother Dominican.
-</p>
-<p>
-To the year 1240 or 1250 may then be assigned, on the highest
-authority, the period when the Joan story first made its
-appearance in writing and in history&mdash;nearly four hundred years
-after its supposed date.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1261, an anonymous unedited chronicle, still preserved in the
-library of St. Paul at Leipsic, states that "another false pope,
-name and date unknown, since she was a woman, as the Romans
-confess, of great beauty and learning, who concealed her sex and
-was elected pope. She became with child, and the demon in a
-consistory made the fact known to all by crying aloud to the
-pope:
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Papa Pater Patrum papissae pandito partum,
-   Et tibi tunc edam de corpore quando recedam."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Some chroniclers relate it differently, namely, that the pope
-undertook to exorcise a person possessed of an evil spirit, and
-on demanding of the devil when he would go out from the possessed
-person's body, the evil one replied in the Latin verses above
-given, that is to say, "O Pope! thou father of the fathers,
-declare the time of the pope's parturition, and I will then tell
-you when I will go out from this body."
-</p>
-<p>
-The demon always was a fellow who had a keen eye for the
-fashions, and he appears to have indulged in alliterative Latin
-poetry precisely at the period when that sort of literary
-trifling was most in vogue among scholars who recreated
-themselves with such lines as
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Ruderibus rejectis Rufus Festus fieri fecit;"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-or
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Roma Ruet Romuli Ferro Flammaque Fameque."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5">{5}</a></span>
-<p>
-A few years later, Martinus Polaccus or Polonus, Martin the
-Polack, or the Pole, (Polack is now disused, Shakespeare makes
-Horatio say, "<i>He smote the sledded Polack on the ice,</i>")
-who died in 1278, the author of a chronicle of popes and emperors
-down to 1207, says: "John of England, by nation of Mayence, sat 2
-years, 5 months, and 4 days. It is said that this pope was a
-woman." The chronicle of Polonus is merely a synchronistic
-history of the popes and emperors in the form of dry biographical
-notices. Nevertheless, from the fact that he had lived many years
-in Rome and was intimate with the papal court his book had, to
-use a modern phrase, an immense run. [Footnote 3]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 3: The tradition concerning the resignation of Pope
-    Cyriacus was also widely spread by the same chronicle. The
-    story ran that Pope Cyriacus resigned the pontificate in the
-    year 238, and first took its rise a thousand years after that
-    date. It was pure fiction, and was connected with the legend
-    of St. Ursula and her 11,000 virgins. No such pope as
-    Cyriacus ever existed.]
-</p>
-<p>
-It was translated into all the principal languages, and more
-extensively copied than any chronicle then existing. The number
-of copies (MS.) still in existence far exceeds that of any other
-work of the kind, and this fact suggests an important reflection.
-Great stress is laid by some writers on the multitude of
-witnesses for Joan. But the multitude does not increase the proof
-when they but repeat one another, and they suspiciously testify
-in nearly the same words. "The advocates for Pope Joan," says
-Gibbon, "produce one hundred and fifty witnesses, or rather
-echoes, of the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries.
-They bear testimony against themselves and the legend by
-multiplying the proof that so curious a story <i>must</i> have
-been repeated by writers of every description to whom it was
-known."
-</p>
-<p>
-The various versions that copy one another must necessarily bear
-a strong family likeness. Their number can add nothing to their
-value as proof, and is no more conclusive than the endeavor to
-establish the doubted existence of a man by a great variety of
-portraits of him, all&mdash;as Whately so well remarks in his
-<i>Historic Doubts</i>&mdash;"all striking likenesses&mdash;of each
-other."
-</p>
-<p>
-In this case the most ancient testimony is posterior to the
-claimed occurrence some four hundred years, and is utterly
-inconsistent with the indisputable facts related by contemporary
-authors. The erudite Launoy, in his treatise <i>De Auctoritate
-Negantis Argumenti</i>, lays down the rule that a fact of a
-public nature not mentioned by any writer within two hundred
-years of its supposed occurrence is not to be believed. This is
-the same Launoy who waged war on the legends of the saints,
-claiming that much fabulous matter had crept into them. On this
-account he was called "Dénicheur des Saints"&mdash;the Saint-hunter or
-router&mdash;and the Abbé of St. Roch used to say, "I am always
-profoundly polite to Launoy, for fear he will deprive me of St.
-Roch." The general rule (Launoy's) so important in historical
-criticism is in perfect harmony with a great and leading
-principle of jurisprudence. In the Pope Joan incident the silence
-of all the writers of that age as to so remarkable a circumstance
-is to be fairly received as a <i>prerogative</i> argument
-(Baconian philosophy) when set up against the numerous modern
-repetitions of the story. It may be taken as a general rule that
-the silence of contemporaries is the strongest argument against
-the truth of any given historical assertion, particularly when
-the fact asserted is strange and interesting, and this for the
-reason that man is ever prone to believe and recount the
-marvellous; and in the absence of early evidence, the testimony
-of later times is, for the same reason, only weaker.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6">{6}</a></span>
-Now this is in strict accordance with the principle of English
-common law, which demands the highest and rejects hearsay and
-secondary evidence; for scores of witnesses may depose in vain
-that they have heard of such a fact; the eye-witness is the
-prerogative instance. This is the logic of evidence.
-</p>
-<p>
-And now we find that what happened to Marianus Scotus also befell
-Polonus. He was entirely innocent of any mention of Joan! The
-passage exists in none of the oldest copies, and is wanting in
-all that follow the author's close and methodical plan of giving
-one line to each year of a pope's reign, so that, with fifty
-lines to the page as he wrote, each page covered precisely half a
-century. This method is entirely broken up in those MSS. which
-contain the passage concerning Joan, and the rage to get the
-passage in was such that in one copy (the Heidelberg MS.)
-Benedict III. is left out entirely and Joan put in his place. Dr.
-Döllinger and the learned Bayle concur in the opinion that the
-passage never had any existence in the original work of Polonus.
-</p>
-<p>
-And just at this juncture the testimony of Tolomeo di Lucca
-(1312) is important. He wrote an ecclesiastical history, and
-names the popess with the remark that in all the histories and
-chronicles known to him Benedict III. succeeded Leo IV. The
-author was noted for learning and industry, and must necessarily
-have consulted every available authority, and yet nowhere did he
-find mention of Joan but in Polonus. In 1283, a versified
-chronicle of Maerlandt (a Hollander) mentions Joan: "I am neither
-clear nor certain whether it is a truth or a fable; mention of it
-in chronicles of the popes is uncommon."
-</p>
-<p>
-And now, as we advance into the fourteenth century, as
-manuscripts multiply and one chronicler copies another, mention
-of Joan increases; and successively and in due order, as the
-malt, the rat, the cat, the dog, and all the rest appear in turn
-to make perfect the nursery ditty, so the statue, the street, the
-ceremony, and all the remaining features of the story come
-gradually out, until we have it in full and detailed description,
-and our popular papal "House that Jack built" is complete.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then we have Geoffrey of Courlon, a Benedictine, (1295,) Bernard
-Guidonis and Leo von Orvieto, both Dominicans, (1311,) John of
-Paris, Dominican, (first half of fourteenth century,) and several
-others, all of whom take the story from Polonus.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1306, we get the statue from Siegfried, who thus contributes
-his quota: "At Rome, in a certain spot of the city, is still
-shown her statue in pontifical dress, together with the image of
-her child cut in marble in a wall." Bayle says that Thierry di
-Niem (fifteenth century) "adds out of his own head" the statue.
-But it appears that it was referred to twenty-three years earlier
-than Siegfried by Maerlandt, the Hollander, who says that the
-story as we read it is cut in stone and can be seen any day:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "En daer leget soe, als wyt lesen
-   Noch aleo up ten Steen ghebouween,
-   Dat men ano daer mag scouwen."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Amalric di Angier wrote in 1362, and adds to the story her
-"teaching three years at Rome." Petrarch repeats the version of
-Polonus. Boccacio also relates it, and was the first who at that
-period asserted her name was not known.
-</p>
-<p>
-Jacopo de Acqui (1370) says that she reigned nineteen years.
-</p>
-<p>
-Aimery du Peyrat, abbot of Moissac, who compiled a chronicle in
-1399, puts "Johannes Anglicus" in the list of popes with the
-remark, "Some say that she was a woman."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7">{7}</a></span>
-<p>
-In 1450, Martin le Franc, in his <i>Champion des Dames</i>,
-expresses surprise that Providence should have permitted such a
-scandal as to allow the church to be governed by a wicked woman.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Comment endura Dieu, comment
-   Que femme ribaulde et prestresse
-   Eut l'Eglise en gouvernement?"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Hallam (<i>Literature of Europe</i>) mentions as among the most
-remarkable among the Fastnacht's Spiele (carnival plays) of
-Germany the apotheosis of Pope Joan, a tragic-comic legend,
-written about 1480. Bouterwek, in his History of German Poetry,
-also mentions it.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1481, "to swell the dose," as Bayle says, the stool feature of
-the story first comes in.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the Nuremberg Chronicle of 1493 (Astor Library copy) Joan is
-put down as Joannes Septimus, and the page ornamented (?) with a
-wood-cut of a woman with a child in her arms. It relates that she
-gained the pontificate by evil arts, "malis artibus."
-</p>
-<p>
-In the beginning of the same century there was seen a bust of
-Joan among the collection of busts of the popes in the cathedral
-at Sienna. And, more astonishing still, the story was related in
-the <i>Mirabilia urbis Roma</i>, a sort of guide-book for
-strangers and pilgrims visiting Rome, editions of which were
-constantly reprinted for a period of eighty years down to 1550!
-</p>
-<p>
-In the middle of the fifteenth century we find the story related
-at full length by Felix Hammerlein, and later by John Bale, then
-Bishop of Ossory, who afterward became a Protestant. He pretty
-well completes the tale.
-</p>
-<p>
-According to Tolomeo di Lucca, the Joan story in 1312 was nowhere
-found but in some few copies of Polonus. Nevertheless, it is
-notorious that at that time countless lists and historical tables
-of popes were in existence, in none of which was there any trace
-of the popess.
-</p>
-<p>
-Suddenly we find extraordinary industry exercised in multiplying
-and spreading the copies of Polonus containing the story, and in
-inserting it in other chronicles that did not contain it. As the
-editors of the <i>Histoire Littéraire e France</i> aptly remark:
-"Nous ne saurions nous expliquer comment il se fait que ce soit
-précisëment dans les rangs de cette fidèle milice du saint-siège
-que se rencontrent les propagateurs les plus naïfs, et peut-être
-les inventeurs, d'une histoire si injurieuse à la papauté."
-[Footnote 4]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 4: "We cannot understand how it is that, precisely
-    among the ranks of the faithful soldiers of the holy see, we
-    find the most credulous propagators and, perhaps, inventors
-    of a story so injurious to the papacy."]
-</p>
-<p>
-Dr. Döllinger answers this by stating that those who appeared to
-be most active in the matter were Dominicans and Minorites,
-particularly the former, (Sie waren es ja, besonders die ersten.)
-This is specially to be remarked under the primacy of Boniface
-VIII., who was no friend of either order. The Dominican
-historians were particularly severe in their judgments on
-Boniface in the matter of his difficulty with Philip the Fair,
-and appear to dwell with satisfaction upon this period of the
-weakened authority of the papal see.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1610, Alexander Cooke published in London, "<i>Pope Ioane, a
-Dialogue Betweene a Protestant and a Papist, manifestly prouing
-that a woman called Ioane was Pope of Rome: against the surmises
-and objections made to the contrarie</i>," etc. Cooke has a
-preface, "To the Popish or Catholicke reader&mdash;chuse whether name
-thou hast a mind to;" which is very handsome indeed of Mr. Cooke.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8">{8}</a></span>
-<p>
-The papist in the <i>Dialogue</i> has a dreadful time of it from
-one end of the book to the other, and Gregory VII. is effectually
-settled by calling him "that firebrand of hell." Bayle grimly
-disposes of Cooke's work thus: "It had been better for his cause
-if he had kept silence."
-</p>
-<p>
-Discussion of the story comes even down to this century. In 1843
-and 1845 two works appeared in Holland: one, by Professor Kist,
-to prove the existence of Joan; the other, by Professor Wensing,
-to refute Kist. In 1845 was also published a very able work by
-Bianchi-Giovini: <i>Esame critico degli atti e Documenti relativi
-alla favola della Papissa Giovanna</i>. Di A. Bianchi-Giovini.
-Milano.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is doubtful if in all the annals of literature there exists a
-more remarkable case of pure fable growing, by small and slow
-degrees through several centuries, until, in the shape of a
-received fact, it finally effects a lodgment in serious history.
-Taking its rise no one knows where or how, full four hundred
-years after the period assigned it, and stated at first in the
-baldest and thinnest manner possible, it goes on from century to
-century, gathering consistence, detail, and incident; requiring
-three centuries for its completion, and, finally, comes out the
-sensational affair we have related. All stories gain by time and
-travel; scandalous stories most of all. These last are
-particularly robust and long-lived. They appear to enjoy a
-freedom amounting to immunity. Just as certain noxious and
-foul-smelling animals frequently owe their life to the
-unwillingness men have to expose themselves to such contact, so
-such stories, looked upon at first as merely scandalous and too
-contemptible for serious refutation, acquire, through impunity,
-an importance that, in the end, makes them seriously annoying.
-Then, too, well-meaning people thoughtlessly accept reports and
-repeat statements that, through mere iteration, are supposed to
-be well-founded. Let any one, be his or her experience ever so
-small, look around and see how fully this is exemplified every
-day in real life.
-</p>
-<p>
-Moreover, there was no dearth of writers in the middle ages who
-used, to the extent of license, the liberty of criticising and
-blaming the papacy. By all such the Joan story was invariably put
-forward by way of illustration; and they appear to have gone on
-unchecked until it was found that the open enemies of the church
-began to avail themselves of the scandal.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1451, AEneas Sylvius Piccolomini, (Pius II.,) in conference
-with the Taborites of Bohemia, denied the story, and told
-Nicholas, their bishop, that, "even in placing thus this woman,
-there had been neither error of faith nor of right, but ignorance
-of fact." Aventinus, in Germany, and Onuphrius Pauvinius, in
-Italy, staggered the popularity of the story. Attention once
-drawn to the subject, and investigation commenced, its weakness
-was soon apparent, and testimony soon accumulated to crush it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Ado, Archbishop of Vienne, (France,) who was at Rome in 866, has
-left a chronicle in which he says that Benedict III. succeeded
-immediately to Leo IV.
-</p>
-<p>
-Prudentius, Bishop of Troyes at the same period, testifies to the
-same fact.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 855, the assigned Joanide period, there were in Rome four
-individuals who afterward successively became popes, under the
-names of Benedict III., Nicholas I., Adrian II., and John VIII.
-During the pretended papacy of Joan these men were all either
-priests or deacons, and must have taken part in her election, and
-have been present at the catastrophe, Now, of all these popes
-there exist many and various writings, but not a word concerning
-the popess. On the contrary, they all represent Benedict III. to
-have succeeded Leo IV.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9">{9}</a></span>
-<p>
-Lupo, Abbot of Ferrières, in a letter to Pope Benedict, says that
-he, the abbot, had been kindly received at Rome by his
-predecessor, Leo IV.
-</p>
-<p>
-In a council held at Rome, in 863, under Nicholas I., the pontiff
-speaks of his predecessors Leo and Benedict.
-</p>
-<p>
-Hincmar, Archbishop of Rheims, writing to Nicholas I., says that
-certain messengers sent by him to Leo IV. had been met on their
-journey by news of that pontiff's death, and had, on their
-arrival at Rome, found Benedict on the throne. Ten other
-contemporary writers are cited who all testify to the same
-immediate succession, and afford not the slightest hint of any
-story or tradition that can throw the least light on that of the
-female pope. "The time of Pope Joan," says Gibbon, "is placed
-somewhat earlier than Theodora or Marozia; and the two years of
-her imaginary reign are forcibly inserted between Leo IV. and
-Benedict III. But the contemporary Anastasius indissolubly links
-the death of Leo and the elevation of Benedict; and the accurate
-chronology of Pagi, Muratori, and Leibnitz fixes both events to
-the year 857."
-</p>
-<p>
-But there is no smoke without fire, it is said; and the wildest
-stories must have some cause, if not foundation. Let us see.
-Competent critics find the story to be a satire on John VIII.
-"<i>Ob nimiam ejus animi facilitatem et mollitudinem</i>" says
-Baronius, particularly in the affair with Photius, by whom John
-had suffered himself to be imposed upon. Photius, Patriarch of
-Constantinople, was known to be a half-man, and yet so cunning to
-overreach John. Therefore they said John Was a woman, and called
-him Joanna, instead Of Joannes, in that tone of bitter raillery
-constantly indulged in by the Roman Pasquins and Marforios, and
-this raillery, naturally enough, in course of time came to be
-taken for truth.
-</p>
-<p>
-And again: Pope John X., elected in 914, was said to have been
-raised by the power and influence of Theodora, a woman of talent
-and unscrupulous intrigue. In 931, John, the son of Marozia and
-Duke Alberic, and grandson of Theodora, was said to be a mere
-puppet in the hands of his mother. "Their reign," (Theodora and
-Marozia,) says Gibbon, "may have suggested to the darker ages the
-fable of a female pope."
-</p>
-<p>
-Again, in 956, a grandson of the same Marozia was raised to the
-papal chair as John XII. [Footnote 5] He renounced the dress and
-decencies of his profession, and his life was so scandalous that
-he was degraded by a synod. Onuphrius Pauvinius and Liutprand are
-quoted to show that a woman, Joan, had such influence over him
-that he loaded her with riches. She is said to have died in
-childbed.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 5: At this period the church was as yet without the
-    advantages of the great reform effected by Gregory VII. in
-    1073, and the choice of a pope by the bishops or cardinals
-    was ratified or rejected by the Roman people, too often, at
-    that time, the dupes or tools of such men as the marquises of
-    Tuscany and the counts of Tusculum, who, says Gibbon, "held
-    the apostolic see in a long and disgraceful servitude."]
-</p>
-<p>
-Long series of years preceding and following these events were
-anything but times of pleasantness and peace to the successors of
-St. Peter. Even Gibbon says, "The Roman pontiffs of the ninth and
-tenth centuries were insulted, imprisoned, and murdered by their
-tyrants, and such was their indigence, after the loss and
-usurpation of the ecclesiastical patrimonies, that they could
-neither support the state of a prince nor exercise the charity of
-a priest."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10">{10}</a></span>
-<p>
-Now, with such materials as these, a Pope Joan story is easily
-constructed; for, with the license of speech that has always
-existed in Rome in the form of pasquinades, it is more than
-likely to have been satirically remarked by the Romans under one
-or all of the three popes John, that Rome had a popess instead of
-a pope, and that the chair of St. Peter was virtually occupied by
-a female. These things would be repeated from mouth to mouth by
-men who, according to their temper and ability, would comment on
-them with bitter scoff, irreverent comment, snarling sneer, or
-ribald leer, and they might readily have been received as matter
-of fact assertions by German and other strangers in Rome.
-</p>
-<p>
-Carried home and spread by wandering monks and soldiers, it is
-only wonderful that they did not sooner come to the surface in
-some such fable as the one under consideration. Diffused among
-the people, and acquiring a certain degree of consistence by dint
-of repetition through two centuries, it finally reached the ear
-of the individual who inserted it in the Marianus chronicle in
-the form of an <i>on dit</i>, and so he put it down "<i>ut
-asseritur</i>"&mdash;"they say."
-</p>
-<p>
-Certain it is that no such story was known in Italy until it was
-spread from German chroniclers, and the absurdity was too
-monstrous to pass into contemporary history even in a foreign
-country.
-</p>
-<p>
-But, it is answered, by Coeffetau and others, we do not hear of
-it for so many years afterward because the church exerted its
-omnipotent authority to hush up the story. There needs but slight
-knowledge of human nature to decide that such an attempt would
-have only served to spread and intensify the scandal. As Bayle
-wisely remarks, "People do not so expose their authority by
-prohibitions which are not of a nature to be observed, and which,
-so far from shutting their mouth, rather excite an itching desire
-to speak."
-</p>
-<p>
-Then, too, it is claimed that for a period of several hundred
-years after 855, writers and chroniclers, by agreement, tacit or
-express, not only maintained a profound silence on the subject of
-the scandal, but, in all Christian countries of the world,
-conspired to alter the order of papal succession, forge
-chronicles, and falsify historical records. And yet those who use
-this argument tell us that in the city of Rome, under papal
-authority, a statue was erected, an order issued, turning aside
-processions from their time-consecrated itinerary, and customs as
-remarkable for their indecency as their novelty were introduced,
-<i>in order to perpetuate the memory</i> of the very same events
-tyrannical edicts were issued to conceal and blot out! Comment is
-not needed.
-</p>
-<p>
-The total silence of contemporary writers, and the immense chasm
-of two hundred years (taking the earliest date claimed) between
-the event and its first mention, was, of course, found fatal.
-Consequently, an attempt was made to prop up the story by the
-assertion that it was chronicled by Anastasius the Librarian, who
-lived in Rome at the alleged Joannic period, was present at the
-election of all the popes from 844 to 882, and must, therefore,
-have been a witness of the catastrophe of 855. The testimony of
-such a witness would certainly be valuable&mdash;indeed irrefutable.
-Accordingly a MS. of the fourteenth century, a copy of the
-Anastasian MS., was produced, in which mention was made of Pope
-Joan. But this mention was attended with three suspicious
-circumstances. First, it was qualified by an "<i>ut dicitur</i>"
-"as is said." Anastasius would scarcely need an <i>on dit</i> to
-qualify his own testimony concerning an event that took place
-under his own eyes, and must have morally convulsed all Rome.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11">{11}</a></span>
-Secondly, it was not in the text, but in a marginal note.
-Thirdly, and fatally, the entire sentence was in the very words
-of the Polonus chronicle. Naturally enough, it was found singular
-that Anastasius, writing in the ninth century, should use the
-identical phraseology of Polonus, who was posterior to him by
-four hundred years.
-</p>
-<p>
-But, in addition to these reasons, Anastasius gives a
-circumstantial account of the election of Benedict III. to
-succeed Leo IV., absolutely filling up the space needed for Joan.
-In view of all which the critical Bayle is moved to exclaim,
-"Therefore I say what relates to this woman (Joan) is spurious,
-and comes from another hand." A zealous Protestant, Sarrurius,
-writes to his co-religionist, Salmasius, (the same who had a
-controversy with Milton,) after examining the Anastasian MS.,
-"The story of the she-pope has been tacked to it by one who had
-misused his time." And Gibbon says, "A most palpable forgery is
-the passage of Pope Joan which has been foisted into some MSS.
-and editions of the Roman Anastasius."
-</p>
-<p>
-With regard to the early chronicle MSS., it must be borne in mind
-that it was common for their readers (owners) to write additions
-in the margin, A professional copyist&mdash;the publisher of those
-days&mdash;usually incorporated the marginal notes with the text.
-Books were then, of course, dear and scarce, and readers
-frequently put in the margin the supplements another book could
-furnish them, rather than buy two books. Then again&mdash;for men are
-alike in all ages&mdash;those who purchased valuable books wanted, as
-they want to-day, the fullest edition, with all the latest
-emendations. So a chronicle with the Joan story would always be
-more saleable than one without it.
-</p>
-<p>
-But one of the strongest presumptions against the truth of the
-story is seen in the profound silence of the Greek writers of the
-period, (ninth to fifteenth century.) All of them who sided with
-Photius were bitterly hostile to Rome, and the question of the
-supremacy of the pope was precisely the vital one between Rome
-and Constantinople. They would have been only too glad to get
-hold of such a scandal. Numbers of Greeks were in Rome in 855,
-and if such a catastrophe as the Joanine had occurred, they must
-have known it. "On writers of the ninth and tenth centuries,"
-says Gibbon, "the recent event would have flashed with a double
-force. Would Photius have spared such a reproach? Would Liutprand
-have missed such a scandal?"
-</p>
-<p>
-We have disposed of the absurdity of the supposition that the
-power and discipline of the church were so great as to enforce
-secrecy concerning the Joan affair. But&mdash;even granting the truth
-of this assertion&mdash;that power and discipline would avail naught
-with strangers who were Greeks and schismatics. In 863, only
-eight years after the alleged Joanide, the Greek schism broke out
-under Photius, who was excommunicated by Nicholas I. There was no
-period from 855 to 863 when there were not numbers of Greeks in
-the city of Rome&mdash;learned Greeks too. Many of them agreed with
-Photius, who claimed that the transfer of the imperial residence,
-by the emperors, from Rome to Constantinople, at the same time
-transferred the primacy and its privileges. Yet not only can no
-allusion to any such story be found in any Greek writer of that
-century, but there is found in Photius himself no less than three
-distinct and positive assertions that Benedict III. succeeded Leo
-IV.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Greek schism became permanent in 1053, under Cerularius,
-Patriarch of Constantinople, who undertook to excommunicate the
-legates of the pope.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12">{12}</a></span>
-<p>
-With Cerularius, as with Photius, the papal supremacy was the
-main question, and neither he nor Photius would have failed to
-make capital of the Joan fable, had they ever heard of it. So
-also with all the Byzantine writers, and they were numerous. It
-was not until the fifteenth century that the first mention of the
-story was made by one of them, (Chalcocondylas,) an Athenian of
-the fifteenth century, who, in his <i>De Rebus Turcicis</i>,
-states the case very singularly: "Formerly a woman was in the
-papal chair, her sex not being manifest, because the men in
-Italy, and, indeed, in all the countries of the West, are closely
-shaved." It is true that Barlaam, a Greek writer, mentioned it in
-the fourteenth century; but Barlaam was living in Italy when he
-wrote his book.
-</p>
-<p>
-And now, as we reach the so-called Reformation period, we find
-the tale invested with a value and importance it had never before
-assumed. It was kept constantly on active duty without relief,
-and compelled to do fatiguing service in a thousand controversial
-battles and skirmishes. Angry and over-zealous Protestants found
-it a handy thing to have in their polemical house. And, although
-the more judicious cared not to use it, the story was generally
-retained. Spanheim and Lenfant endeavored to think it a worthy
-weapon, and even Mosheim affects to cherish suspicion as to its
-falsity. Jewell, one of Elizabeth's bishops (1560) seriously, and
-with great show of learning, espoused Joan's claims to existence.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nor were answers wanting; and, including those who had previously
-written on the subject, it was fully confuted by Aventinus,
-Onuphrius Pauvinius, Bellarmine, Serrarius, George Scherer,
-Robert Parsons, Florimond de Rémond, Allatius, and many others.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first Protestant to cast doubt on the fable was David
-Blondel. A minister of the Reformed Church, Professor of History
-at Amsterdam, in 1630, he was held by his co-religionists to be a
-prodigy of learning in languages, theology, and ecclesiastical
-history. In his <i>Fable de la Papesse Jeanne</i>, with
-invincible logic and an intelligent application of the true
-canons of historical criticism, he demonstrates the absence of
-foundation for the story, the tottering and stuttering weakness
-of its early years, the suspicions which stand around its cradle;
-and, instead of disputing how far the Pope Joan story was
-believed or credited in this or that century, shows that by her
-own contemporaries she was never heard of at all; the whole story
-being, he says, "an inlaid piece of work embellished with time."
-Blondel was bitterly assailed by all sections of Protestantism,
-and accused of "bribery and corruption," the question being
-asked, "How much has the pope given him?" Blondel's work brought
-out a crowd of writers in defence of Joan, foremost among whom
-was the Protestant Des Marets or Maresius, whose labors in turn
-called out the <i>Cenotaphium Papessae Joannae</i> by the learned
-Jesuit Labbe, the celebrity of whose name drew forth a phalanx of
-writers in reply.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the worst for Joanna was yet to come. Another Protestant,
-undeterred by the abuse showered upon Blondel, gave Joan her
-<i>coup de grace</i>. This was the learned Bayle, who, with rigid
-and judicial impartiality, sums up the essence of all that had
-been advanced on either side, and shows unanswerably the
-altogether insufficient grounds on which the entire story rests.
-More was not needed. Nevertheless, Eckhard and Leibnitz followed
-Bayle in the extinguishing process, and made it disreputable for
-any scholar of respectability to advocate the convicted
-falsehood.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13">{13}</a></span>
-<p>
-There was no dearth of other Protestant protests against Joan.
-Casaubon, the most learned of the so-called reformers, laughed at
-the fable. So did Thuanus. Justus Lipsius said of it, "Revera
-fabella est haud longè ab audacia et ineptis poetarum." [Footnote
-6] Schookius, professor at Groningen, totally disbelieved it. Dr.
-Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury, said, "I don't believe the history
-of Pope Joan," and gives his reasons. So, also, Dr. Bristow. Very
-pertinent was the reflection of Jurieu, (a fanatical Protestant,
-if ever there was one&mdash;the same noted for his controversy with
-Bayle, who was a "friend of the family"&mdash;so much so, indeed, as
-to cause the remark that Jurieu discovered many hidden things in
-the Apocalypse, but could not see what was going on in his own
-household,) in his <i>Apology for the Reformation</i>, "I don't
-think we are much concerned to prove the truth of this story of
-Pope Joan."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 6: "In truth, it is a fable not much differing from
-    the boldness and silly stories of the poets."]
-</p>
-<p>
-The erudite Anglican, Dr. Cave, says: "Nothing helped more to
-make that Chronicle (Polonus) famous than the much talked of
-fable of Pope Joan. For my own part, I am thoroughly convinced
-that it is a mere fable, and that it has been thrust into
-Martin's chronicle, especially since it is wanting in most of the
-old manuscripts."
-</p>
-<p>
-Hallam calls it a fable. Ranke passes it over in contemptuous
-silence. So also does Sismondi; and Gibbon fairly pulverizes it
-with scorn.
-</p>
-<p>
-A favorite polemical arsenal for Episcopalians is found in the
-works of Jewell, so-called Bishop of Salisbury. Let them be
-warned against leaning on him concerning the Joan story. Listen
-how quietly yet how effectually both Joan and Jewell are disposed
-of by Henry Hart Milman, D.D., Dean of St. Paul's, in his
-<i>History of Latin Christianity</i>: "The eight years of Leo's
-papacy were chiefly occupied in restoring the plundered and
-desecrated churches of the two apostles, and adorning Rome.
-</p>
-<p>
-"<i>The succession to Leo IV. was contested between Benedict
-III.</i>, who commanded the suffrages of the clergy and people,
-and Anastasius, who, at the head of an armed faction, seized the
-Lateran, [Footnote 7] stripped Benedict of his pontifical robes,
-and awaited the confirmation of his violent usurpation by the
-imperial legates, whose influence he thought he had secured, But
-the commissioners, after strict investigation, decided in favor
-of Benedict. Anastasius was expelled with disgrace from the
-Lateran, and his rival consecrated in the presence of the
-emperor's representatives." [Footnote 8] Like Ranke, Milman also
-passes over the Joan story with contemptuous silence.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 7: Sept A.D. 855.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 8: Sept. 29, 855.]
-</p>
-<p>
-In his <i>Papst-Fabeln des Mittelalters</i>, the learned Dr.
-Döllinger has exhausted the erudition of the subject, and not
-only demonstrated the utter unworthiness of the invention, but&mdash;
-what is for the first time done by him&mdash;points out the causes or
-sources of all the separate portions of the narrative. Thus, the
-statue story arose from the fact that in the same street in which
-was found a grave or monumental stone, of the inscription on
-which the letters P. P. P. could be deciphered, there was also
-seen a statue of a man or woman with a child. It was simply an
-ancient statue of a heathen priest, with an attendant boy holding
-in his hand a palm-leaf, The P. P. P. on the grave-stone, as all
-antiquarians agreed, merely stood for <i>Propria Pecunia
-Posuit</i>; but as the marvellous only was sought for, the three
-P's were first coolly duplicated and then made to stand for the
-words of the line already referred to&mdash;<i>Papa Patrum</i>,
-etc.&mdash;much in the same way as Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck insisted that
-A. D. L. L., on a utensil of imaginary antiquity he had found,
-stood for AGRICOLA DICAVIT LIBENS LUBENS, when it only meant
-AIKEN DRUM'S LANG LADLE.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14">{14}</a></span>
-The controversy concerning the
-existence of Joan may be considered
-as long since substantially closed, and
-Joan, or Agnes, or Gilberta, or Ione,
-as she is called in the English (Lond.
-1612) edition of Philip Morney's
-(Du Plessis Mornay) <i>Mysterie of Iniquitie</i>,
-to stand convicted as an imposter,
-or, more properly speaking, a
-nonentity. Her story is long since
-banished from all respectable society,
-although it contrives to keep up a
-disreputable and precarious existence
-in the outskirts and waste places of
-vagrant literature. We are even
-informed that it may be found printed
-under the auspices and sponsorship
-of societies and individuals considered
-respectable. If this be true, it is, for
-their sakes, to be regretted; and we
-beg leave severally to admonish the
-societies and individuals in question,
-in the words of the apostle: "<i>Avoid
-foolish and old wives' fables: and exercise
-thyself to piety.</i>"
-</p>
-<hr>
-
-      <h2>Translated From The French.
-<br><br>
-    The Approaching General Council.</h2>
-
-  <h3>By Mgr. Dupanloup, Bishop Of Orleans.</h3>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 V.
-<br><br>
-   The Help Offered By The Council.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is the reason why that church, which is the friend of souls
-and which was never indifferent to the evils in society, is now
-so deeply moved. Undoubtedly the church and society are distinct;
-but journeying side by side in this world, and enclosing within
-their ranks the same men, they are necessarily bound together in
-their perils and in their trials. The church has called this
-assembly, therefore, because she feels that in regard to the
-evils which are common to both, she can do much to forward their
-removal.
-</p>
-<p>
-However, let us be careful, as careful of exaggerating as of
-diminishing the truth. Does it depend upon the church to destroy
-every human vice? No. But in this great work, in this rude
-conflict of the good against the bad, she has her part, an
-important part, and she wishes to perform it. Man is free, and he
-does good of his own free-will. But he is also aided by divine
-grace, which assists him without destroying his liberty; for as
-the great Pope St. Celestine said, "Free-will is not taken away
-by the grace of God, but it is made free." Being the treasury of
-celestial goods, the church is man's divine assistant, and lends
-him, even in the temporal order, a supernatural aid. If to-day
-she is assembling in Rome, and, as it were, is collecting her
-thoughts, it is only in order to accomplish her task, to work
-more successfully and powerfully for the welfare of mankind.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15">{15}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Who can doubt," exclaims the Holy Father, "that the doctrine of
-the Catholic Church has this virtue, that it not only serves for
-the eternal salvation of man, but that it also helps the temporal
-welfare of society, their real prosperity, good order and
-tranquillity?" And who will deny the social and refining
-influence of the church? "<i>Religion! Religion!</i>" an eminent
-statesman [Footnote 9] has recently said, "<i>it is the very life
-of humanity!</i> In every place, at all times, save only certain
-seasons of terrible crisis and shameful decadence. Religion to
-restrain or to satisfy human ambition--religion to sustain or to
-reconcile us to our sorrows, the sorrows both of our worldly
-station and of our soul. Let not statesmanship, though it be at
-once the most just and the most ingenious, flatter itself that it
-is capable of accomplishing such a work without the help of
-religion. The more intense and extended is the agitation of
-society, the less able is any state policy to direct startled
-humanity to its end. A higher power than the powers of earth is
-needed, and views which reach beyond this world. For this purpose
-God and eternity are necessary."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [Footnote 9: M. Guizot]
-</p>
-<p>
-Then, too, the Holy Father, after he has alluded to the
-beneficent influence of religion in the temporal order, proclaims
-anew the concord, so often affirmed by him, between faith and
-reason, and the mutual help which, in the designs of Providence,
-they are called to lend one to the other. "Even," he says, "as
-the church sustains society, so does divine truth sustain human
-science; the church supports the very ground beneath its feet,
-and in preventing it from wandering she advances its progress."
-Let those who vainly strive to claim science as an antagonist to
-the church understand these words! The head of the church does
-not fear science, he loves it, he praises it, and with pleasure
-he remembers that the Christian truths serve to aid its progress
-and to establish its durability. The most illustrious scholars
-who have appeared upon the earth, Leibnitz, Newton, Kepler,
-Copernicus, Pascal, Descartes, before whom the learned of the
-present time, if their pride has not completely blinded them,
-would feel of very little importance, think the same about this
-question as does the Sovereign Pontiff. This is demonstrated,
-adds the Pope, by the history of all ages with unexceptionable
-evidence. This too is the meaning of the well-known phrase of
-Bacon, "A little learning separates us from religion; but much
-learning leads us to it." Presumptuous ignorance or blind passion
-may forget it; but the greatest minds have always recognized the
-agreement of faith and science, the harmony between the church
-and society, and rejected this antagonism of modern times, which
-is so contrary to the testimony of history and the interests of
-truth.
-</p>
-<p>
-But let us not allow an ambiguous expression to become the
-pretext for our opponent's attacks; how then does the church
-attempt to reform society? History has answered this question.
-Prejudice alone fancies that it has discovered some secret attack
-upon the legitimate liberty of the human mind. The Council of
-Rome will be the nineteenth Ecumenical Council, and the forty or
-fifty nations which will be represented there have all been
-converted in the same way; that is, they have been brought from
-barbarism to civilization by the authority of her words, by the
-grace of her sacraments, by the teaching of her pastors, and the
-examples of her saints. Such are the ways of God and the action
-of the church, sometimes seconded, but more frequently attacked,
-by human powers.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16">{16}</a></span>
-<p>
-Instructor of souls, the church uses the method of all good
-education--authority and patience. Where there is doubt, she
-affirms; where there is denial, she insists; where there is
-division, she unites; she repeats for ever the same lessons, and
-what grand lessons they are! The true nature of God, the true
-nature of man, moral responsibility and free-will, the
-immortality of the soul, the sacredness of marriage, the law of
-justice, the law of charity, the inviolability of private rights
-and of property, the duty of labor, and the need of peace. This
-always, this everywhere, this to all men, to kings and to
-shepherds, to Greeks and to Romans, to England and to France, in
-Europe and in Australia, under Charlemagne or before Washington.
-</p>
-<p>
-I dare to assert that the continuity of these affirmations
-creates order in society and in the human mind, just as certainly
-as the repeated rising of the same sun makes the order of the
-seasons and success in the culture of the earth. O philosopher,
-you who disdain the church! be candid and tell me what would have
-become of the idea of a personal God among the nations, had it
-not been for her influence? O Protestants and Greeks! admit that
-without the church the image of Jesus Christ would have been
-blotted out beneath your very eyes! O philanthropist and
-statesman! what would you do without her for the family and the
-sanctity of marriage?
-</p>
-<p>
-What the church has once done, she is going to do again; what she
-has already said, she is going to repeat; she will continue her
-life, her course, her work, in the same spirit of wisdom and
-charity; she will continue to affirm to man's reason those great
-truths of which she is the guardian, and it is by this means, by
-this alone, though by it most energetically, that she will act on
-society.
-</p>
-<p>
-It has been said that the religion of the masses of the people is
-the whole of their morality. Then since morality is the true
-source of good statesmanship and good laws, all the progress of a
-people must consist in making the first principles of justice
-influence more and more their private and public life. From this
-it follows that every people which increases in its knowledge of
-Christian truth will make substantial progress, while at the same
-time every people which attempts to solve the great questions
-that perplex mankind in any way opposed to the gospel of Christ
-will be in reality taking the wrong road which can only end in
-their utter destruction. Who expelled pagan corruption from the
-world, who civilized barbarians by converting them? Look at the
-East when Christianity flourished there; and look at it now under
-the rule of Islam! The influence of Christianity upon
-civilization is a fact as glaring as the sun. But the principles
-of the gospel are far from having given all that they contain,
-and time itself will never exhaust them, because they come out of
-an infinite depth.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, although the centuries have drawn from the Christian
-principle of charity, equality, and fraternity of man
-consequences which have revolutionized the old world; still all
-the social applications of this admirable doctrine are very far
-from having been made. It is even, as I believe, the peculiar
-mission of modern times to make this fruitful principle penetrate
-more completely than ever the laws and customs of nations. If the
-century does not wander from the path of Christian truth, it will
-establish political, social, and economic truths which will
-reflect upon it the greatest honor.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17">{17}</a></span>
-But it is the mission of the church and her council to preserve
-these truths of revelation free from those interpretations which
-falsify their meaning.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then every great declaration of the truths of the Bible, every
-explanation of the doubts and errors concerning it, every true
-interpretation of Christianity by the masses of the people is a
-work of progress, which is at once social and religious. This
-then is why the church is using every effort, or, as says the
-Holy Father, why she is exerting her strength more and more. This
-is the reason why Catholic bishops will come from every part of
-the world to consult with their chief.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is in vain you say in your unjust and ignorant prejudice, the
-church is old, but the times are new. The laws of the world are
-also old; yet every new invention of which we are justly proud
-would not exist, and could not succeed, were it not for the
-application of those laws. You do not understand how pliant and
-yet how firm is the material of which her Divine Founder has
-built his church. He has given her an organization at once
-durable and progressive. Such is the depth and the fruitfulness
-of her dogmas, such too is the expansive character of her
-constitution, that she can never be outstripped by any human
-progress, and she is able to maintain her position under any
-political system. Without changing her creed in the least, she
-draws from her treasury, as our divine Lord said, things both new
-and old, from century to century, by measuring carefully the
-needs of the time. You will find that she is ever ready to adapt
-herself to the great transformations of society, and that she
-will follow mankind in all the phases of his career. The
-Christian revelation is the light of the world, and always will
-be; be assured that this is the reason why the coming council
-will be the dawn, not as many think the setting, of the church's
-glory.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                        VI.
-<br><br>
-  The Unfounded Fears On The Subject Of The Council.
-</p>
-<p>
-What then do timid Catholics and distrustful politicians fear?
-Ah! rather let mankind rejoice over the magnanimous resolution of
-Pius IX. It should be a solemn hope for those who believe, as
-well as for those who have not the happiness of believing. If you
-have the faith, you know that the spirit of God presides over
-such councils. Of course, since it will be composed of men, there
-may be possible weaknesses in that assembly. But there will also
-be devoted service to the church, great virtues, profound wisdom,
-a pure and courageous zeal for the glory of God and the good of
-souls, and an admirable spirit of charity; and, besides all this,
-a divine and superior power. God will, as ever, accomplish his
-work there.
-</p>
-<p>
-"God," says Fénélon, "watches that the bishops may assemble when
-it is necessary, that they may be sufficiently instructed and
-attentive, and that no bad motive may induce those who are the
-guardians of the truth to make an untrue statement. There may be
-improper opinions expressed in the course of the examination. But
-God knows how to draw from them what he pleases. He leads them to
-his own end, and the conclusion infallibly reaches the precise
-point which God had intended."
-</p>
-<p>
-But if one has the misfortune not to be a Christian and not to
-recognize in the church the voice of God, from simply a human
-point of view, can there be anything more worthy of sympathy and
-respect than this great attempt of the Catholic Church to work,
-so far as it is in her power, for the enlightenment and peace of
-the world?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18">{18}</a></span>
-And what can be more august and venerable than the assembly of
-seven or eight hundred bishops, coming from Europe, Asia, Africa,
-the two Americas, and the most distant islands of Oceanica? Their
-age, their virtue, and their science make them the most worthy
-delegates from the countries in which they dwell, and the
-recognized representatives of men of the entire globe with whom
-they come in contact every day of their lives. It is a real
-senate of mankind, seen nowhere but at Rome. And although our
-mind should be filled with the most unjust prejudices, what
-conspiracy, what excess, what manifestation of party feeling need
-be feared from a meeting of old men coming from very different
-parts of the earth, almost every one a complete stranger to the
-others, having no bond of sympathy but a common faith and a
-common virtue? Where will we find on earth a more perfect
-expression, a more certain guarantee of wisdom, of wisdom even as
-men understand it? I have ventured to say that modern times,
-disgusted by experience with confidence in one man, have faith in
-their assemblies. But what gathering can present such a
-collection of the intelligent and the independent, such diversity
-in such unity? Who are these bishops? Read their mottoes:
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-     <i>"In the name of the Lord!"
-     "I bring Peace!"
-     "I wish for Light!"
-     "I diffuse Charity!"
-     "I shrink not from Toil!"
-     "I serve God!"
-     "I know only Christ!"
-     "All things to all men!"
-     "Overcome Evil by Good!"
-     "Peace in Charity!"</i>
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-As to themselves, they have lost their proper names. Their
-signature is the name of a saint and the name of a city. Their
-own name is buried, like that of an architect, in the foundation
-stone of the building. Here are Babylon and Jerusalem; New York
-and Westminster; Ephesus and Antioch; Carthage and Sidon; Munich
-and Dublin; Paris and Pekin; Vienna and Lima; Toledo and Malines;
-Cologne and Mayence. And added to this, they are called Peter,
-Paul, John, Francis, Vincent, Augustin, and Dominic; names of
-great men who have established or enlightened various nations
-that profess Christianity, They do not bear the names of the past
-and present only, they also bear those of the future. One comes
-from the Red River, another from Dahomey, others from Natal,
-Victoria, Oregon, and Saigon. We are working for the future,
-although we are called men of the past. We are working for
-countries which to-day cannot boast a single city, and for people
-who are without a name. We go farther than science, even beyond
-commerce itself, until we find ourselves alone and beyond them
-all. When we cannot precede your most adventurous travellers, we
-tread eagerly in their footsteps; and why? To make
-Christians--that is to say, to make men, to make nations. What
-then do you fear? Why do you object to such a council when you
-entitle yourselves, with such proud confidence, the men of
-progress and the heralds of the future?
-</p>
-<p>
-Will it be nations who are disturbed by the council? How can
-nations be menaced or betrayed by men who represent every nation
-of the civilized globe? The bishops love their countries; they
-live in them by their own free choice, and for the defence of
-their faith. Will the bishops of Poland meet the bishops of
-Ireland to plan the ruin of nations and the oppression of a
-fatherland? And is there a single French bishop, or one from
-England, or from any other country, who will yield to any one in
-patriotism, who does not claim to be as good a Frenchman, or
-Englishman, or citizen, as any one of his fellow-countrymen?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19">{19}</a></span>
-Is our liberty placed in jeopardy? What can you fear from men
-who, from the days of the Catacombs up to the massacre of the
-Carmelites, have established Christianity only at the sacrifice
-of their life, and whose blood flowed freely in the days that
-liberty and the church suffered the same persecution? Will the
-bishops of America join those from Belgium and Holland in a
-conspiracy against liberty? Will the bishops from the East unite
-with the bishops of France, and so may other European countries,
-in sounding the praises of despotism?
-</p>
-<p>
-No, no; there is nothing true in all these fears; they would be
-only silly phantoms were it not that they are the result of a
-hatred which foresees the good which will be done, and wishes to
-prevent it. What will the council do? I cannot say; God alone
-knows it at this hour. But I can say that it is a council,
-because eighteen centuries of Christianity and civilization know
-and affirm it; a council, hence it is the most worthy
-exemplification of moral force, it is the noblest alliance of
-authority and liberty that the human mind can conceive; and I may
-boldly assert that it never would have conceived it by its own
-power.
-</p>
-<p>
-I am not going to mark out the limits of liberty and power. I do
-not intend now to show the characteristics of schism and heresy,
-of English or German Protestantism, or of the false orthodoxy of
-Russia. I will say only one word, and then proceed to make my
-conclusions. It is this. If the Christian churches wish to become
-again sisters, and if men wish to become brothers, they can never
-do it more certainly, more magnificently, or more tenderly than
-in a council, under the auspices and in the breast of that church
-which is their true mother.
-</p>
-<p>
-Do you imagine that you discover different opinions in the
-church, and make this an obstacle? I would have the right to be
-astonished at your solicitude, but I will suppose you to be
-sincere, and I answer, You know very little about the church, Her
-enemies daily declare that our faith is a galling yoke, which
-holds us down and prevents us from thinking. And therefore, when
-they see that we do think, they are perfectly amazed. This is one
-of the conditions of the church's life, and the greatest amount
-of earnest thinking is always within her fold. It is true that we
-have an unchanging creed, that we are not like the philosophers
-outside of the church, who do little more than seek a doctrine,
-and endlessly begin again their searches. They are always calling
-everything in question, they are continually moving, but never
-reach any known destination. With us there are certain
-established definite points, about which we no longer dispute.
-And thus it is that the church has an immovable foundation, and
-is not built entirely in the air. Yet liberty also has its place
-in the church, Our anchors are strong and our view is unlimited;
-for beyond those doctrines which are defined there is an immense
-space. Even in dogma the Christian mind has yet a magnificent
-work to accomplish, which can be followed for ever, because, as I
-have already said, our dogmas, like God, have infinite depths,
-and Christian intelligence can always draw from them, but never
-drain them.
-</p>
-<p>
-No one should therefore be astonished to see that Catholics argue
-about questions not included within the definitions of faith,
-many of which are difficult and complex, and which modern
-polemics has only made more obscure.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20">{20}</a></span>
-The spirit of Christianity was long ago defined by St. Augustine
-in these memorable words: <i>In necessary things unity, in
-doubtful things liberty, in all things charity</i>. The course of
-centuries has changed nothing. Besides, I have before said, and I
-now repeat, that the council, precisely because it is
-ecumenical&mdash;that is, composed of representatives from all the
-churches in the world&mdash;bishops living under every political
-system and every variety of social customs&mdash;excludes necessarily
-the predominance of any particular school of a narrow and
-national spirit and of local prejudices. It will be the great
-catholic spirit, and not such and such particular notions, which
-will inspire its decisions; and whatever may happen to be the
-peculiar ideas of different schools or parties, the council will
-be the true light and unity. There will be complete liberty left
-in regard to all things not defined. But these definitions will
-be the Catholic rule of faith, and they should not disturb any
-one in advance. Again, they threaten nothing which is dear to
-you, men of this age, they threaten only error and injustice,
-which are your enemies as well as ours. If you wish to know the
-real opinions of this magnanimous pontiff, who is the object of
-so many odious and ungrateful calumnies, and of the bishops, his
-sons and his brothers; if you wish to conjecture the spirit of
-the future council, you will find it completely stated in these
-few words of Pius IX., which were addressed to some Catholic
-publicists, scarcely a year ago, and which have been inscribed on
-their standard as a sacred motto: "Christian charity alone can
-prepare the way for that liberty, fraternity, and progress which
-souls now ardently desire."
-</p>
-<p>
-I cannot repeat too often, and you, my brethren of the holy
-ministry, cannot repeat too often, that great is the mistake of
-those who denounce the future council as a menace or a work of
-war. We live in a time in which we are condemned to listen to
-all. But nevertheless we are not bound to believe all. When, a
-year ago, the Pope announced to the bishops assembled in Rome his
-determination to convoke an ecumenical council, what did the
-bishops of the whole world see in this? A great work of
-illumination and pacification&mdash;these are the precise words of
-their address. The papal bull uses the same language. In this
-ecumenical council, what does the Pope ask his brothers, the
-bishops, to examine, to investigate with all possible care, and
-to decide with him? Before everything else, it is that which
-relates to the peace of all and to universal concord.
-</p>
-<p>
-And when I read the bull carefully, what do I see on every page
-and in each line? The expression of solicitude well worthy the
-father of souls, and not less for civil society than for the
-church. He never separates them. He is careful always to say that
-their evils and their perils are mutual. The same tempest beats
-them both with the same waves. At this time, which is called a
-period of transition, religion and society are both passing
-through a formidable crisis. There are men to-day who would wish
-to destroy the church if they could; and who, at the same time,
-would shake society from its very foundations. And it is for the
-purpose of bringing help to them both, and to avert the evils
-which menace them together, that the holy father has conceived
-the idea of a council. The reason given by him to the bishops is
-precisely to examine this critical situation, and suggest the
-remedy for this double wound.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21">{21}</a></span>
-These are his words: "It is necessary that our venerable
-brothers, who feel and deplore as we do the critical situation of
-the church and society, should strive with us and with all their
-power to avert from the church and society, by God's help, all
-the evils which are afflicting them."
-</p>
-<p>
-It has been told that the Pope wished to break off friendly
-relations with modern society, to condemn and proscribe it, to
-give it as much trouble as lies within his power. Yet never have
-the trials which you endure, Christian nations, more sadly moved
-the head of the church, never has his soul poured forth more
-sympathetic accents, than for your perils and your sorrows. And
-it has been noticed by every one, pillaged of three-fourth of his
-little territory, reduced to Rome and its surrounding country,
-placed between the dangers of yesterday and those of to-morrow,
-suspended, as it were, over a precipice, the Pope seems never to
-think of these things; he does not seek to defend his menaced
-throne; not a sentence, not a single word, about his own
-interests; no, in the bull of convocation the temporal prince is
-forgotten and is silent&mdash;the pontiff alone has spoken to the
-world.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 VII
-<br><br>
-  The Council And The Separated  Churches
-</p>
-<p>
-But all has not yet been said, Other hopes may be conceived of
-the future council. We delight in anticipating other great
-results. The letters of the Holy Father to the Eastern bishops
-and to our separated Protestant brethren give us good ground for
-hope.
-</p>
-<p>
-At two fatal epochs in the history of the world, two great
-divisions have been made in this empire of souls which we call
-the church&mdash;twice has the seamless robe of Christ been rent by
-schism and heresy. These are the two great misfortunes of
-mankind, and the two most potent causes which have retarded the
-world's progress. Who does not admit this? If the old Greek
-empire had not so sadly broken with the West, it would have never
-been the prey of Islamism, which has so deeply degraded it, and
-which even now holds it under an iron yoke. Nor would it have
-drawn into its schism another vast empire, in whose breast
-seventy millions of souls groan beneath a despotism which is both
-political and religious.
-</p>
-<p>
-And who can say what the Christian people of Europe would be
-today, were it not for Lutheranism, Calvinism, and so many other
-divisions? These unhappy separations have made Christianity lose
-its active power in retaining many souls in the light of divine
-revelation which have since been wrested from it by incredulity.
-And who can tell us how much they have retarded the diffusion of
-the gospel in heathen countries?
-</p>
-<p>
-Sorrowful fact! There are even now millions of men upon whom the
-light of the gospel has never shone, and who remain sunken in the
-shadows of infidelity. Think of the poor pagans on the shores of
-distant isles! They are vaguely expecting a Saviour; they stretch
-their arms toward the true God; they cry out by the voice of
-their miseries and their sufferings for light, truth, salvation,
-Eighteen centuries ago, Jesus Christ came to bring these good
-tidings to the world, and spoke these great words to his
-apostles, "Preach the gospel to every creature!" The church alone
-has apostles of Jesus Christ, emulators of that Peter and Paul
-who landed one day upon the coast of Italy to preach the same
-gospel to our fathers and to die together for the
-same faith.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22">{22}</a></span>
-<p>
-But poor Indians! poor Japanese! Following the apostles of the
-Catholic Church sent by the successor of him to whom Jesus Christ
-said, "Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my church,"
-we see other missionaries who come to oppose them. But who sends
-them? Is it Jesus Christ? What, then, is Christ, as St. Paul
-asked of the dissidents of the first century, divided? Is not
-this, I ask you, a dreadful misfortune for the poor infidels? And
-is it not enough to make every Christian shed tears?
-</p>
-<p>
-And union, if it were only possible, (and why should it not be,
-since it is the wish of our Saviour)&mdash;union, especially because
-now the way is open and distance has almost vanished, would it
-not be a great and happy step toward that evangelization of every
-creature which Jesus charged his apostles and their successors to
-begin when he had left the earth?
-</p>
-<p>
-Yes, every soul in which the spirit of Jesus dwells should feel
-within a martyrdom when it considers these divisions, and repeat
-to heaven the prayer of our Saviour and the cry for unity, "My
-Father, that they may be all one, as you and I are one." This is
-the great consideration which influenced the head of the Catholic
-Church when, forgetting his own dangers, and moved by this care
-for all the churches which weighs so heavily upon him, he
-convoked an ecumenical council. He turns toward the East and to
-the West, and addresses to all the separated communions a word of
-peace, a generous call for unity. Whatever may be the way in
-which his appeal is received, who does not recognize, in this
-most earnest effort for the union of all Christians, a thought
-from heaven, inspired by Him who willed that his Church should be
-one, and who said, as the Holy Father has been pleased to recall,
-"It is by this that you will be known to be my disciples"?
-</p>
-<p>
-But will our brethren of the East and West respond to this
-thought, this wish? The East! Who is not moved before this cradle
-of the ancient faith, from whence the light has come to us? I saw
-the Catholic bishops of the East trembling with joy at the
-announcement of the future council, and expecting their churches
-to awake to a new life and to a fruitful activity. But will the
-Eastern churches refuse to hear these "words of peace and
-charity" that the Holy Father has lately addressed to them "from
-the depths of his heart"? [Footnote 10] And why should they be
-deaf to this appeal? For what antiquated or chimerical fears? Who
-has not recognized and been deeply touched by the goodness of the
-pontiff? How delicately, and with what accents of particular
-tenderness, does the Holy Father speak of our Oriental brethren,
-who, in the midst of Mohammedan Asia, "recognize and adore, even
-as we do, our Lord Jesus Christ," and who, "redeemed by his most
-precious blood, have been added to his church!" What
-consideration does he manifest for these ancient churches, to-day
-so unfortunately detached from the centre of unity, but who
-formerly "showed so much lustre by their sanctity and their
-celestial doctrine, and produced abundant fruits for the glory of
-God and the salvation of souls!" [Footnote 11]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 10: Apostolic Letter of Pius IX., September 8th,
-    1868.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 11: <i>ibidem</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-And, at the same time, we must admire his gentleness, his
-forgetfulness of all his irritating grievances. The Holy Father
-speaks only of peace and charity.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23">{23}</a></span>
-He asks only one thing, and that is, that "the old laws of love
-should be renewed, and the peace of our fathers, that salutary
-and heavenly gift of Christ, which for so long a time has
-disappeared, may be firmly re-established; that the pure light of
-this long-desired union may appear to all after the clouds of
-such a wearisome sorrow, and the sombre and sad obscurity of such
-long dissensions." [Footnote 12]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 12: <i>Ibidem</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-But let the Eastern bishops know that this deep longing for peace
-and union is not found in the heart of the Holy Father alone; the
-bishops and all the Christians of the West, how can they help
-desiring this most happy event? Can there be any good gained in
-keeping the robe of Christ torn asunder? And what&mdash;I ask it in
-charity and for information&mdash;what can the churches of the old
-Orient gain by not communicating with those of the entire
-universe? Who prevents them? Are we yet in the time of the
-metaphysical subtleties and cavils of the Lower Empire?
-</p>
-<p>
-I have already alluded to the infidel nations. Let my brethren,
-the Eastern bishops, permit me to recall to them what is at this
-moment the state of the entire world and the situation of the
-church of Christ in all its various parts. If in every time the
-church of Christ has had to struggle, is she not now more than
-ever before resisted and fought against? Is not the spirit of
-revolution&mdash;and, unfortunately, it is an impious one&mdash;rising
-against her on every side? And you, Eastern churches, whether you
-are united or not, have you not also your dangers? Is not your
-spiritual liberty unceasingly threatened? Is not Christianity
-with you surrounded by determined enemies&mdash;at your right, at your
-left, on every side? And will not the storm of impiety which now
-disturbs Europe, since distance is no more an obstacle, burst
-upon Asia, and will not the Christian races of the East become
-contaminated by the repeated efforts of an irreligious press?
-</p>
-<p>
-In such a critical situation, when every danger is directed
-against the church of Jesus Christ by the misfortunes of the
-time, the first need of all Christians is to put an end to
-division which enfeebles, and to seek in reconciliation and peace
-that union which is strength. What bishop, what true Christian,
-will meditate upon these things, and then say, "No, division is a
-good; union would be an evil"? On the contrary, who does not see
-that union, the return to unity, is the certain good of souls,
-the manifest will of God, and will be the salvation of your
-churches? What follows from this? Can there be any personal
-considerations, any human motives whatsoever, superior to these
-great interests and these grave obligations? Your fathers, those
-illustrious doctors, Athanasius, Gregory of Nazianzen, Basil,
-Cyril, Chrysostom, did not find it hard to bend their glorious
-brows before him whom they call "the firm and solid rock on which
-the Saviour has built his church." [Footnote 13] If they were
-living to-day, would they not, as Christians, and most nobly,
-too, trample upon an independence which is not according to
-Christ, but which is merely the suggestion of a blind pride? If
-past centuries have committed faults, do you wish to make them
-eternal?
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 13: <i>Ibidem</i>; words of St. Gregory of
-    Nazianzen, quoted by the Holy Father.]
-</p>
-<p>
-But the time, if you will hear its lessons, will bring before
-your mind the gravest duties. You who are surrounded on one side
-by despotism, and on the other by Mohammedanism, surely, you
-cannot fail to feel the peril of isolation, and the fatal
-consequences of disunion.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24">{24}</a></span>
-<p>
-May God preserve me from uttering a word which can be, even in
-the most remote way, painful to you; for I come to you at this
-moment with all the charity of Jesus Christ.
-</p>
-<p>
-Indeed, whether I think of those unhappy races whose souls and
-whose country have become sterile under the yoke of the religion
-of Mohammed, or whether I turn my eye toward those great masses
-of Russians, grave in their manners, religious, who have remained
-in the faith, notwithstanding the degradation of their churches,
-and notwithstanding the supremacy of a czar whose pretended
-orthodoxy has never inspired even the least pity and justice for
-Poland! equally do I feel the depths of my soul moved to pray for
-those many nations who are worthy of our interest and our sincere
-compassion. O separated brothers of the East!&mdash;Greeks, Syrians,
-Armenians, Chaldeans, Bulgarians, Russians, and Sclavonians, all
-whom I cannot call by name&mdash;see the Catholic Church is coming
-toward you, she stretches out her arms to embrace you! O
-brothers! come!
-</p>
-<p>
-She is going to assemble, as the whole church, from all parts of
-the civilized world. From our West, from your East, from the New
-World, also, and from far distant islands, her bishops are now
-hastening to answer the call of the supreme chief, to meet at
-Rome, the centre of unity. But ah! she does not wish to assemble
-her council without your presence, O brothers! come!
-</p>
-<p>
-This is one of those solemn and infrequent occasions which will
-take centuries before its equal is seen. The church offers peace.
-"With all our strength we pray you, we urge you, to come to this
-General Council, as your ancestors came to the Council of Lyons
-and the Council of Florence, in order to renew union and peace."
-[Footnote 14] But, On your Side, will you refuse to take a single
-step toward us, and allow this most favorable opportunity to
-escape? Who will venture to take this formidable responsibility
-upon himself? O brothers! come!
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [Footnote 14: Ibidem.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The heart of the church of Jesus Christ does not change; but the
-times change, and the causes which have, unhappily, made the
-efforts of our fathers fail, now, thank God, no longer exist.
-Then I say to you all, O brothers! come!
-</p>
-<p>
-In regard to ourselves, we are full of hope; and, whatever may be
-the resistance that the first surprise, or perhaps old
-prejudices, have made, everything seems to us to be ready for a
-return. "Rome," said Bossuet, in former times&mdash;"Rome never ceases
-to cry to even the most distant people, that she may invite them
-to the banquet, where all are made one; and see how the East
-trembles at her maternal voice, and appears to wish to give birth
-to a new Christianity!"
-</p>
-<p>
-O God! would that we could see this spectacle! What joy would it
-be for thy church on earth, in the midst of so many rude combats,
-and such bitter affliction! What joy for the church in heaven!
-And what joy, churches of the East, for your doctors and your
-saints, "when from the height of heaven they see union
-established with the apostolic see, centre of catholic truth and
-unity; a union that, during their life here below, they labored
-to promote, to teach by all their studies, and by their
-indefatigable labors, by their doctrine and their example,
-inflamed as they were with the charity poured into their hearts
-by the Holy Spirit, for Him who has reconciled and purchased
-peace at the price of his blood; who wished that peace should be
-the mark of his disciples, and who made this prayer to his
-Father, 'May they be one as we are one.'" [Footnote 15]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 15: <i>Ibidem</i>. Unity will be the eternal
-    characteristic of the true church. Every question concerning
-    the church is reduced finally to this question, <i>Where is
-    unity?</i>]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25">{25}</a></span>
-<p>
-Oh! then, listen to the language of the church, the true church
-of Jesus Christ, who alone, among all Christian societies, raises
-a maternal voice, and demands again all her children, because she
-is their true mother! This is the reason why the Sovereign
-Pontiff, after he has spoken to the separated East, turns toward
-other Christian yet not catholic communions, and addresses to all
-our brothers of Protestantism the same urgent appeal.
-</p>
-<p>
-Protestantism! "Ah!" exclaimed Bossuet, in his ardent love, in
-his zealous wish for unity, "our heart beats at this name, and
-the church, always a mother, can never, when she remembers it,
-repress her sighs and her desires." These are sighs and desires
-which we have heard from the Holy Father in an apostolic letter
-written a few days after the Brief addressed to the Eastern
-bishops, to "all Protestants and other non-Catholics," and in
-which he deplores the misfortunes of separation, and shows the
-great advantage of the unity desired by our Lord. "He exhorts, he
-begs all Christians separated from him to return to the cradle of
-Jesus Christ. &hellip; In all our prayers and supplications we do not
-cease to humbly ask for them, both day and night, light from
-heaven, and abundant grace from the eternal Pastor of souls, and
-with open arms we are waiting for the return of our wandering
-children." [Footnote 16]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 16: Apostolic Letters of September 13th, 1868.]
-</p>
-<p>
-See, then, what the Holy Father says, and, together with him, the
-whole church. Shall we hope and pray always in vain? Will the
-work of returning be as difficult as many think it? I know that
-prejudices are yet deep; and the difficulty that the work of
-tardy justice meets with in England is one proof among others;
-but it is the business of a council to explain misunderstandings,
-and, by appeasing the passions, prepare the mind to return to the
-church. And, should any one be tempted to think me deluded, I
-will answer that among those of our separated brethren who are
-not carried away by the sad current of rationalism, there is a
-daily increasing number who regret the loss of unity. I affirm
-that this is true of America, that it is true of England, I will
-answer, too, that more than once I have been made the recipient
-of grief-stricken confidence, and heard from suffering hearts the
-longing desire for the day in which will be fulfilled the words
-of the Master, "There shall be one fold and one shepherd." Will
-this day never come? Are divisions necessary? And why should we
-not be the ones destined to see the days predicted and hailed
-with joy by Bossuet? Here, undoubtedly, the dogmatic objections
-are serious. But they will disappear, if the gravest difficulty
-of all, in my opinion, is removed; and that difficulty is the
-negation of all doctrinal authority in the church, that absolute
-liberty of examination, which, willingly or unwillingly, is
-certain to be confounded with the principles of rationalism. It
-is for this reason that Protestantism bears in its breast the
-original sin of a radical inconsistency, which is lamented by the
-most vigorous and enlightened minds of their communion. And it is
-upon this that we rely, at least for numerous individual
-conversions, and, by God's grace, perhaps for the reconciliation
-of a large number.
-</p>
-<p>
-If this essential point is solved&mdash;and the solution is not
-difficult to simple good sense and courageous faith&mdash;all the rest
-will become easy. Reason says, with self-evident truth, that
-Jesus Christ did not intend to found his church without this
-essential principle of stability and unity.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26">{26}</a></span>
-He did not propose to found a religion incapable of living and
-perpetuating itself, abandoned to the caprice of individual
-interpretations. This is so clear of itself that it does not need
-to be supported by any text of the Bible.
-</p>
-<p>
-But there are texts which, to persons of candid mind, and without
-any great argument, are equally convincing. I will repeat only
-three; the first, "Thou art Peter," the primacy of St. Peter and
-the head of the church; the second, "This is my body," the most
-blessed sacrament; the third, "Behold thy mother," behold your
-mother, the Blessed Virgin, Are you able to efface these three
-sentences from the Gospel? Have you meditated upon them
-sufficiently, and upon many others which are not less decisive?
-Then from the Bible pass to history, and from texts to facts.
-</p>
-<p>
-Do not facts tell you plainly that the living element of complete
-Christianity is wanting in you? For, on the one hand, you have
-had time to understand thoroughly the authors of rupture; and, on
-the other, you are now able to consider its results. For three
-centuries you have been reading the Bible; for three centuries
-you have been studying history. Have not these three
-centuries taught you a new and solemn lesson? The principle of
-Protestantism, by developing, has borne its fruits; and the
-predictions of catholic doctors in ancient controversies are
-realized every day beneath your eyes. Contemporaneous
-Protestantism is more and more rapidly dissolving into
-rationalism; many of her ministers acknowledge that they have no
-longer any supernatural faith; and recently a cry of alarm,
-proceeding from her bosom, has resounded even in our political
-assemblies. But a cry lost in the air! Dissolution will go on,
-notwithstanding noble efforts and Christian resistance, always
-increasing and ruining more thoroughly this incomplete
-Christianity, which needs the essential power that preserves and
-maintains, and which is nothing else than authority. To lose
-Christianity in pure sophistry, this is the tendency of modern
-Protestants, whether they are willing to admit it or not. But
-good may come from an excess of evil, And what is more calculated
-to enlighten many deceived but well-meaning souls concerning the
-radical fault of Protestantism than this spectacle of
-disintegration by the side of the powerful unity of the Catholic
-Church, and the council which is going to be its living
-manifestation?
-</p>
-<p>
-There is another hope, little in accordance with human
-probabilities, I know, but which my faith in the Divine mercy
-does not forbid me to entertain, and that is, that even the Jews
-themselves, the children of Israel, who, associating with us,
-lead to-day the same kind of social life, will feel something
-touch their hearts and bring them, docile at last, to the voice
-of St. Paul, to the fold of the church. In the Jews, indeed, so
-long and so evidently punished, I cannot help recognizing my
-ancestors in the faith; the children of Moses, the countrymen of
-Joseph and Mary, of Peter and Paul, and of whom it is written,
-that they "who are Israelites, to whom belongeth the adoption as
-of children, and the glory and the testament, and the giving of
-the law and the service of God and the promises: whose are the
-fathers, and of whom is Christ, according to the flesh, who is
-over all things, God blessed for ever, Amen." [Footnote 17] I beg
-them, therefore, to believe in Him whom they are yet expecting; I
-beg them to believe eighteen hundred years of history; for
-history, like a fifth gospel, proves the coming and divinity
-of the Messiah.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 17: Romans ix. 4, 5.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27">{27}</a></span>
-<p>
-Do not feel astonished, then, to see me full of compassion for
-Protestant, Greek, and Jew, while I am accused of being severe
-toward the abettors of modern scepticism. I recognize the
-difference between errors which are nearly finished, and errors
-which are just beginning; between responsible and guilty authors
-who knowingly spread false doctrines, and their innocent victims,
-who, after centuries, still cling to them. How can I help being
-moved to tears when I see the people of my country, its mechanics
-and its farmers, so industrious and so worthy of sympathy, young
-men of our schools, whose active minds call for the truth, both
-fall, almost before they are aware of it, into the hands of
-teachers of error? When the reawakening of faith was so
-perceptible a few years ago, and a decisive progress toward good
-seemed to be accomplished, how quickly did the shadows gather
-around us; dismal precipices opened beneath our feet, the breath
-of an impious science and violent press became most potent, and
-the beautiful bark of faith and French prosperity seemed ready to
-sink before she had fairly left her port! Ah! I do, indeed,
-execrate the authors of that cruel wreck, while I feel myself
-full of pity for the many sincere souls I see among our separated
-brethren, living in error, it is true, but they have never made
-error live! With warmth I extend to such captive souls a friendly
-hand. Let them come back to the church; for she it is who guards
-Jesus Christ, the God of the whole truth, and invites them to
-this great banquet of the Father of the family, where, as Bossuet
-has well said, "all are made one."
-</p>
-<p>
-May the coming council, in its work of enlightenment and
-pacification, reconcile to us many souls who are already ours by
-their sincerity, their virtue, and, as I know of many, even by
-their desires. Let, at least, this be the heartfelt wish of every
-Catholic! Yes, let us open our hearts with more warmth than ever
-to these beloved brethren; let us wish&mdash;it is the desire of the
-Holy Father&mdash;that the future council may be a powerful and happy
-effort, and let us repeat unceasingly to heaven the prayer of the
-Master, "May they be one, as we are one."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-           VIII.
-<br><br>
-    The Catholic Church.
-</p>
-<p>
-And you, whom the duties of my position compel me to address
-persistently&mdash;in time and out of time, says St. Paul&mdash;adversaries
-of my faith, though I speak to you with austere words upon my
-lips, still know that it is with charity in my heart toward you
-all, whether philosophers, Protestants, or indifferent to all
-religion, yea, I would wish my voice could reach the most
-wretched pagan lost in the shadow of the superstition which yet
-covers half the globe. O brethren! I would that you could taste
-for a single moment the deep peace that one feels who lives and
-dies in the arms of the church! Bear witness with me to this
-peace, my brethren of the priesthood, and every Christian of
-every rank and of all ages! When one knows that he is surrounded
-by this light, assured by her promises, preceded by those sublime
-creatures who are called saints, and whose glory in heaven the
-church of the earth salutes, bound by tradition to all the
-Christian centuries by the successors of the apostles, and
-founded, at last, upon Jesus Christ, what joy! what a company!
-what power! and what repose in light and certainty!
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28">{28}</a></span>
-<p>
-I am firmly convinced, and each day brings forth a new proof,
-that the enemies of the church do not really detest her. No; the
-dominant sentiment among our enemies is not always hatred. There
-is another feeling which they do not admit, which is far more
-frequent among them, This is envy. Yes; they envy us; the
-atheist, at the moment he is insulting a Christian, says secretly
-to himself, "Oh! how happy he is!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us not credit that which we hear said against the church,
-that her majestic face has been for ever disfigured by calumny,
-and that henceforth men can only see in her a mistress of tyranny
-and ignorance. These violent prejudices certainly do have an
-influence; our faults and our enemies undertake the business of
-propagating them. But the church, in spite of this&mdash;and the
-ecumenical council will prove this again to the world&mdash;will not
-be any less the church of Christ, "without blemish and without
-spot," notwithstanding the imperfections of her children; and
-there is not one among those that attack her who can tell us what
-evil the church has ever done to him. "<i>My people, what have I
-done to thee?</i>"
-</p>
-<p>
-What evil! Citizens of town and country, you owe to the Catholic
-Church the purity of your children, the fidelity of your wives,
-the honesty of your neighbor, the justice of your laws, the gay
-festival which breaks in upon the monotony of your daily lives,
-the little picture which hangs upon your wall; and, more than
-these, you owe her the sweet expectation which waits by the
-cemetery and the tomb! This is the evil she has done you&mdash;this
-enemy of the human race!
-</p>
-<p>
-And if you can raise your thought above yourself, above your own
-interests, above your homes; if you allow your thoughts to soar
-higher than the smoke which curls above your roofs, what a grand
-spectacle does the Catholic Church present! She is great and
-good, even in the little history of our life&mdash;greater and far
-better does she appear in the history of the laborious
-developments of human society. Inseparable companion of man upon
-this earth, she struggles and she suffers with him; she has
-assisted, inspired, guided humanity in all its most painful and
-glorious transformations. It was she who made virtues, the very
-name of which was yet unknown, rise up from the midst of pagan
-corruption; and souls, so pure, so noble, so elevated, that the
-world still falls upon its knees before them.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was she who tamed and transformed barbarians; and who, during
-the long and perilous birth of modern races in the middle ages,
-has courageously fought the evil, and presided over all progress.
-And it must be again the Catholic Church which will help modern
-society to disengage from the midst of its confused elements that
-which disturbs its peace, the principles of life from the germs
-of death, by maintaining firmly those truths which alone can save
-it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Ah! we do not know the Catholic Church well enough. We live
-within her fold, we are a part of her, and yet we do not
-understand her. We ignore both what she was and what she is in
-the world, and the mission God has given her, and the living
-forces, the divine privileges, bestowed upon her, so that she may
-accomplish eternally her task upon the earth, to maintain
-immutably here below truth and goodness, and to remain for ever,
-as an apostle said of her, "<i>the pillar and the ground of
-truth</i>."
-</p>
-<p>
-Surely, we never hear it made a matter of reproach that a pillar
-remains unchanged; what would become of the edifice, if the
-pillar were to leave its place?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29">{29}</a></span>
-Why, then, reproach the church for being immovable, and why is
-not this immobility salutary for you? What will you do when there
-are tremblings in regard to the truth like the trembling of the
-earth? While you must disperse, we are uniting. What you are
-losing, we are defending. We can say to modern doctrines, "We
-knew you at Alexandria and at Athens; both you, your mothers,
-your daughters, and your allies." The church can say to the
-nations, when the Pope has gathered their ambassadors: "France,
-thou hast been formed by my bishops; thy cities and their streets
-bear their names! England, who has made thee, and why wert thou
-once called the isle of saints? Germany, thou hast entered into
-the civilization of the West by my envoy, St. Boniface. Russia,
-where wouldst thou now be, were it not for my Cyril and my
-Methodius? Kings, I have known your ancestors. Before Hapsburg,
-or Bourbon, or Romanoff, or Brunswick, or Hohenzollern&mdash;before
-Bonaparte or Carignan, I was old; for I have seen the Caesars and
-the Antonies die; to-morrow I will be, for I am ever the same. Do
-you answer that it will be without money, without dwelling,
-without power? It may be so, for I have endured these proofs a
-hundred times, always ready to address to nations the little
-sentence Jesus once spoke to Zaccheus, 'This day I must abide in
-thy house.' If I leave Rome, I will go to London, to Paris, or to
-New York." It is only of the church and of the sun that it can be
-said that to-morrow they will certainly rise; and this is the
-reason that the church, in the midst of the disturbances of the
-present time, boldly announces her council.
-</p>
-<p>
-Admirable spectacle, that our century would wish not to admire,
-but whose grandeur it is forced to acknowledge. Yes, many a
-wearied eye rests with irresistible emotion upon this stately
-pillar, standing alone in the midst of the ruins of the past and
-of the actual destruction of all human greatness. The indifferent
-feel troubled, surprised, attracted at the sight of the church
-testifying her immortal power by this great act; and after they
-have exhausted all their doctrines, they are tempted to exclaim
-to the Supreme Pontiff that which Peter, the first pontiff, once
-said to Jesus, "Master, to whom shall we go? you have the words
-of eternal life."
-</p>
-<p>
-Hear the words of life, you who doubt, who search, who suffer!
-Hear them also, you who triumph, who rejoice, who lord it over
-your fellowman! Hear the words that the church calls her little
-children to repeat at every rising of the sun: <i>Credo</i>, I
-believe! I believe in one God, the Creator. See, <i>savants</i>,
-here is the answer to your uncertainties. <i>Credo</i>, I
-believe! I believe in a Saviour of the world who has consecrated
-purity by his birth, confounded pride by his precepts, rebuked
-injustice by his sufferings, and proved his divinity and
-immortality by his resurrection, I believe in Jesus Christ! See
-in him, poor, afflicted humanity, poor, oppressed people, an
-answer to your despair. <i>Credo</i>, I believe! I believe in the
-Holy Ghost, in the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints,
-the forgiveness of sins, in the judgment, and in a life of
-everlasting happiness to those who have fought the good battle.
-See in our creed, O Protestants and philosophers! so divided in
-your affirmations, so narrow in your hopes, the response to your
-disputes. See in it, oppressive monarch, the answer to your
-iniquities! And see, also, O pitiless death! the answer to your
-terrors.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30">{30}</a></span>
-<p>
-To love, to hope, to believe! Everything is contained in these
-words; and it is the church who alone can preserve in unshaken
-majesty and in the universal truth this <i>Credo</i>, that the
-nineteenth century, now in the dawn of the twentieth, is going to
-repeat with the two hundred and sixty-second successor of the
-fisherman Peter, first apostle of Jesus Christ.
-</p>
-<p>
-But, brothers, let us cease speaking; let us cease disputing, let
-us cease fearing, let us bend the knee and pray!
-</p>
-<p>
-O God! who knows the secret of your Providence, and who knows the
-wonders which the church will yet display to the world, if men's
-faults and their passion do not retard her? If religion and
-society, leaning one upon the other, should advance, with mutual
-concord, on their blessed course, what great steps would there be
-toward the establishment of your reign upon the earth, toward the
-progress of nations, toward liberty by the way of truth, toward
-the real fraternity of men, toward the extinction of revolution
-and of war, toward the peace of the world. Then a new era would
-open before us, and a new great century appear in history. Let us
-throw open our souls to these hopes; let us beg these blessings
-of God, and let us foresee possible misfortunes only to prevent
-them. Let it be known at least that Catholics are not men of
-discouragement, of dark predictions, or of peevish menaces; but
-men of charity, of noble hopes, of peaceful effort, and, at the
-same time, of generous struggle.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us invoke St. Peter and St. Paul; let us invoke the Virgin
-Mary, Mother of Jesus, the honor and the heavenly guardian of the
-race of man; and, united to the souls of all the saints, let us
-pray to the adorable Trinity reigning in heaven!
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us pray that the council may be able to fulfill its task;
-that the Christian world will not repel this great effort which
-the church is making to help them; that light may find its way
-into their minds, and that their hearts may be softened! That
-misunderstandings may be explained, prejudices removed; that
-unreasonable fears may disappear, and that Christianity, and
-consequently civilization, may flourish with a new and more
-vigorous youth. May the return to the church, so much desired and
-so necessary, take place!
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us pray for the monarchs of the world, that the wish and
-formal request that the Holy Father made them in his letter may
-be granted, May they cast aside all silly objections, and favor
-by the liberty they give the bishops the future assembly of the
-church, and let her council meet in peace.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us pray, too, for their people, that they may understand the
-maternal intentions of the church; and, closing their ears to
-calumny, may hear with confidence and accept with docility the
-words of their mother.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us pray even for the avowed enemies of the church, that they
-make a truce with their suspicions and their anger until the
-church has announced, in her council and under the inspiration of
-the Holy Ghost, her decrees whose wisdom and charity can hardly
-fail to touch them.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us pray for so many men of good faith, men of science,
-statesmen, the heads of families, workmen, men of honor, whom the
-light of Jesus Christ has not yet enlightened, that they may now
-receive its beneficent rays.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us pray that the anxious wishes of so many mothers, sisters,
-wives, and daughters, who, in obscurity, are maintaining purity
-and holiness in their families, often without being able to bring
-our holy faith there, may at length be heard.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31">{31}</a></span>
-<p>
-Let us pray for the East and the West, that they may be
-reconciled; and for our separated brethren, that they may leave
-the division which is destroying them, and answer the urgent
-appeal of the holy church, and come to throw themselves in those
-arms which have been open to receive them for three centuries.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us pray for the church, for her faithful children, and for
-her ministers, that each day may find them more pure, more holy,
-more learned, more charitable; so that our faults may not be an
-obstacle to the reign of that God whose love we are appointed to
-make known.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us also pray for the Holy Father. Deign, O God! to preserve
-him to your church, and enable this great pontiff, who has not
-feared, even amid the troubles of the age, to undertake the
-laborious work of a council, to see its happy issue! May he,
-after so many trials, bravely borne, rejoice in the triumph of
-the church, before he goes to receive in heaven the reward of his
-labors and his virtues!
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-          <h2>Lent, 1869.</h2>
-<br>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-              I.
-
-  We like sheep have gone astray,
-      Kyrie eleison!
-  Each his own misguided way,
-      Kyrie eleison!
-  Wandering farther, day by day,
-      Kyrie eleison!
-
-
-              II.
-
-  Shepherd kind, oh! lead us back;
-      Christe eleison!
-  Wrest us from our dangerous track,
-      Christe eleison!
-  Lest the wolves thy flock attack;
-      Christe eleison!
-
-
-             III.
-
-  Ope for us again thy fold,
-      Kyrie eleison!
-  Night approaches, drear and cold;
-      Kyrie eleison!
-  Death, perchance, and woes untold;
-      Kyrie eleison!
-
-                 Richard Storrs Willis.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32">{32}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-    <h2>The Modern Street-ballads Of Ireland.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-The home of the street-ballad, pure and simple, is in Ireland. It
-has nearly vanished in England, destroyed by the penny newspaper,
-which contains five times as highly spiced food for the money. In
-Ireland it still exists and supplies the place of the newspaper,
-not only in appeals to the passion or reason, but as a general
-chronicle of every event of importance, local or national, Very
-often both are combined, and the leading article and the account
-of political insult will be run into rude rhyme together, and the
-story of a murder be interspersed with reflections on its sin.
-The quantity of ballads is, of course, enormous, and to expect
-that any but a small portion should possess more poetry than a
-newspaper article would be unreasonable. But all are not of this
-prosaic class, and some possess the genuine spirit of poetry
-under their rude but often spirited diction.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first question naturally asked is, Whence comes this enormous
-flood of ballads? Who are the poets who produce them on every
-imaginable subject, even the most verse-defying public meeting,
-or in praise of humblest of politicians? Like the immortal Smiths
-and Joneses, that make the thunder of the <i>Times</i>, their
-names never appear, and though the ballad or the leading
-article&mdash;and both have done so&mdash;may influence the fate of
-nations, it will bring to the author only his stipulated hire. At
-present, the street-ballads of Ireland are mostly composed by the
-singers themselves. In ancient days, the weavers and tailors and
-the hedge-schoolmasters used to be a fruitful source of supply,
-the sedentary occupations of the former being popularly supposed
-to foster the poetic talent, The latter class has vanished, and
-if here and there one exists, it is in the shape of a red-nosed,
-white-haired veteran, who is entertained in farmers' houses and
-country <i>shebeens</i>, in memory of his ancient glory, when
-sesquipedalian, long words and "cute" problems made him the
-monarch of the parish next to the priest himself. However, the
-singer of the ballad is, in most instances, the writer, who is
-only anxious for a subject of interest on which to exercise his
-muse, and generally turns out half-a-dozen verses of the
-established pattern in half an hour. This he takes to the
-publisher, who not only allows him no copyright, but does not
-even make a discount in the price of his stock in trade, for
-which he pays the same as his brother bards, who, finding his
-ballad popular, will straightway strain their voices to it. But
-then he has the same privilege with their productions, so that it
-is all right in the long run. The ballads are printed on the
-coarsest of paper with the poorest of type, and generally with a
-worn-out woodcut of the most inappropriate description at the
-head. Thus, for instance, I have one, where a portrait of Jerome
-Bonaparte does duty over the "Lamentation of Lawrence King for
-the murder of Lieut. Clutterbuck."
-</p>
-<p>
-The ballad-singers are of both sexes, and are very dilapidated
-specimens. The tone in which they send their voices on the
-shuddering air is utterly indescribable&mdash;a sort of droning,
-<i>pillelu</i> falsetto, at once outrageously comical and
-lugubrious. They sing everything in the same melancholy cadence,
-whether lamentation or love-song. Very often, two, more
-especially of women, will be together.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33">{33}</a></span>
-The first will sing the first two lines of a quatrain alone, and
-then the second will join in, and they rise to the height of
-discord together. Fair-days are their days of harvest, although
-in cities like Cork or Waterford they may be seen on every day
-except Sunday. A popular ballad will often have a very large
-sale, and will find its way all over the country.
-</p>
-<p>
-The greater portion of ballads composed in this way are, of
-course, destitute of anything like poetry&mdash;mere pieces of
-outrageous metaphor and Malapropoian long words, for which last
-the ballad-singers have a ridiculous fondness. The singers sing
-in a foreign language; they have lost the sweet tongue peculiarly
-fitted for improvised poetry, in which their predecessors the
-bards, down to the date of less than one hundred years ago, sang
-so sweetly and so strongly, with such dramatic diction and happy
-boldness of epithet. The language of the Saxon oppressor is from
-the tongue, and not from the heart. As the mother of the late
-William Carleton used to say, "the Irish <i>melts into the
-tune</i>;" the English doesn't, and so many of the finest of the
-ancient melodies are now songs without words. "Turlogh
-O'Carolan," "Donogh MacConmara," and the "Mangaire Sugach" have
-not left their successors among the "English" poets of the
-present day. Among a people naturally so eloquent as the native
-Irish, not even the drapery of an incongruous language can
-entirely obscure the native vigor and strength of thought. A
-ballad is sometime seen which, though often unequal and rude, is
-alive with impassioned poetry, fierce, melancholy, or tender, and
-it almost always becomes a general favorite, and is preserved
-beyond its day to become a part of the standard stock. The songs
-of so genuine a poet as William Allingham, who is the only
-cultivated Irish poet who has had the taste and the spirit to
-reproduce in spirit and diction these wild flowers of song, have
-been printed on the half-penny ballad-sheets, and sung at the
-evening hearth and at the morning milking all over Ireland.
-"Lovely Mary Donnelly" and the "Irish Girl's Lamentation" have
-become, in truth, a part of the songs of the nation, touching
-alike the cultivated intellect and the untutored heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-The street-ballads may be divided into five classes: patriotic,
-love-songs, lamentations, eulogies, and chronicles.
-</p>
-<p>
-The patriotic songs are disappointing. There are few to stir the
-heart like the war-notes of Scotland. The reason is obvious. The
-triumphs were few and fleeting, and the song of the vanquished
-was only of hope or despair. They must sing in secret and be
-silent in the presence of the victors. In most of the political
-songs allegory is largely used. Ireland is typified under the
-form of a lonely female in distress, or a venerable old lady, or
-some other figure is used to disguise the meaning. Of course the
-street ballad-singers dare not sing anything seditious, and even
-the whistling of the "Wearing of the Green" will call down the
-rebuke of the "peeler." The ballads that express the hatred of
-the people to their rulers are sung in stealth and are often
-unprinted. They are not usually the production of the hackneyed
-professional ballad-singers, and are consequently of a much
-higher order. The following is a good specimen, It is entitled
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34">{34}</a></span>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-     The Irishman's Farewell To His Country.
-
-  Oh! farewell, Ireland: I am going across the stormy main,
-  Where cruel strife will end my life, to see you never again.
-
-  'Twill break my heart from you to part; <i>acushla astore machree</i>.
-  But I must go, full of grief and woe, to the shores of America.
-
-  "On Irish soil my fathers dwelt since the days of Brian Borue.
-  They paid their rent and lived content convenient to Carricmore.
-  But the landlord sent on the move my poor father and me.
-  We must leave our home far away to roam in the fields of America.
-
-  "No more at the churchyard, <i>astore machree</i>,
-      at my mother's grave I'll kneel.
-  The tyrants know but little of the woe the poor man has to feel.
-  When I look on the spot of ground that is so dear to me,
-  I could curse the laws that have given me cause to depart to America.
-
-  "Oh! where are the neighbors, kind and true, that
-      were once my country's pride?
-  No more will they be seen on the face of the green,
-      nor dance on the green hillside.
-  It is the stranger's cow that is grazing now,
-      where the people we used to see.
-  With notice they were served to be turned out or starved,
-      or banished to America.
-
-  "O! Erin machree, must our children be exiled all over the earth?
-   Will they evermore think of you, <i>astore</i>,
-      as the land that gave them birth?
-   Must the Irish yield to the beasts of the field?
-      Oh! no&mdash;<i>acushla astore machree</i>.
-   They are crossing back in ships, with vengeance on their lips,
-      from the shores of America."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The songs which were in vogue among the young and enthusiastic
-Fenians were, as might be supposed, of an entirely different
-nature. They were not peasants, but half-educated artisans. The
-proscribed <i>National Cork Songster</i> contains probably more
-rant and fustian than any similar number of printed pages in
-existence. The verses, of course, bear a family resemblance to
-those that appeared in the <i>Nation</i> for a couple of years
-previous to the events of '48, and in many instances are
-reproductions. Those of a modern date are still more extravagant,
-if possible, than that deluge of enthusiastic pathos; for among
-the <i>Nation</i> poets were Thomas Davis and James Clarence
-Mangan, while among those of the Fenians of 1866 there is but one
-that deserves the slightest shred of laurel. Charles J. Kickham,
-now under sentence of fourteen years' penal servitude in her
-Britannic Majesty's prisons, has written two or three pieces of
-genuine ballad-poetry of great merit, which the people have at
-once adopted as household songs. "Rory of the Hill" is of
-remarkable spirit. It begins:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "That rake up near the rafters,
-     Why leave it there so long?
-   The handle of the best of ash
-     Is smooth and straight and strong.
-   And mother, will you tell me
-     Why did my father frown,
-   When to make hay in summer-time
-     I climbed to take it down?
-   She looked up to her husband's eyes,
-     While her own with light did fill,
-  'You'll shortly know the reason why,'
-     Said Rory of the Hill."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The love-songs, that are sung by the <i>colleens</i> at the soft
-dewy dawn, as they sit beside the sleek cows just arisen from
-beneath the hedge, the nimble finger streaming the white milk
-into the foaming pail, while the lark's song melts down from that
-speck beneath the cloud, and the blackbird and thrush warble with
-ecstasy in the hedge, the morning light shining across the dewy
-green fields; or at
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "Eve's pensive air,"
-</p>
-<p>
-when the shadows are growing long, although the tops of the
-swelling uplands are bright, and the crows are winging home, and
-the swallows darting in the still air; or, in the winter
-evenings, when the candles are lighted in the kitchen, and busy
-fingers draw the woof, while the foot beats time to the whirring
-wheel, are very numerous, and generally of a higher order of
-merit than the patriotic songs. The pulses of the heart are freer
-and its utterance dearer in human love than in love of country.
-The beauties in which the Irish girls excel all others&mdash;the
-blooming cheeks, and brilliant eyes, and wealth of flowing hair,
-are the main objects of compliment, and are often transformed
-into personifications of endearment.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35">{35}</a></span>
-<i>Colleen</i>, the universal term for young maidens, seems but a
-corruption of <i>coolleen</i>, which means a head of curls or
-abundant tresses. Grey and blue eyes are especially objects of
-endearment, and even in the ancient Irish poems,
-<i>green</i>-eyed is not unfrequently used, which is not so
-unnatural as the English reader may suppose, the Irish word
-expressing the indefinable tint of some lighter blue eyes, being
-untranslatable into English. [Footnote 18]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 18: "Sweet emerald eyes."&mdash;Massinger. "How is that
-    young and green-eyed Gaditana?" Longfellow's <i>Spanish
-    Student</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Although the modern love-songs are inferior to those in the Irish
-language, for the reason that has been mentioned, that English is
-not yet the language of the Irish heart, they often possess a
-simple power, and, though seldom sustained throughout, a touch of
-nature's genius, which the highest poet cannot reach with all his
-art. How exquisite is the following:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "As Katty and I were discoursing,
-     She smiled upon me now and then,
-   Her apron string she kept foulding,
-     And twisting all round her ring."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Bits of poetry can be picked out of almost every love-ballad, as
-witness the following:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "My love is fairer than the lilies that do grow,
-   She has a voice that's clearer than any winds that blow."
-
-
-  "With mild eyes like the dawn."
-
-
-  "One pleasant evening, when pinks and daisies
-   Closed in their bosoms one drop of dew."
-
-
-  "His hair shines gold revived by the sun,
-   And he takes his denomination from the <i>drien don</i>."
-
-
-  "I wish I were a linnet, how I would sing and fly.
-   I wish I were a corn-crake, I'd sing till morning clear&mdash;
-   I'd sit and sing to Molly, for once I held her dear."
-
-
-  "'Twas on a bright morning in summer,
-     That I first heard his voice speaking low,
-   As he said to the colleen beside me,
-     Who's that pretty girl milking her cow?"
-
-
-  "The hands of my love are more sunny and soft
-     Than the snowy sea foam."
-
-
-  "My love will not come nigh me,
-     Nor hear the moan I make;
-   Neither would she pity me,
-     Though my poor heart should break."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-There is not one, however, that would bear quoting entire, and
-none that comes anywhere near the flowers of the ancient Irish
-love-songs which are some of the finest in the world. The
-principal theme and delight of the ballad-singers are romantic
-episodes, where a rich young nobleman courts a farmer's daughter
-in disguise, and, after marriage, reveals himself, his lineage,
-and his possessions to his bride; or where a noble lady falls in
-love with a tight young serving-boy. Such a ballad will be as
-great a favorite among the <i>colleens</i> as the novels of
-romantic love are said to be among milliners' apprentices. One
-thing is especially noticeable among the love-ballads, and that
-is the total absence not only of licentiousness, but even of
-coarseness. The Irish peasant-girls at home are the most virtuous
-of their class in the world, owing to the influence of the
-confessional, the strong feeling of family pride, and the custom
-of universal and early marriage. Not but there are unfortunates
-who have made a "slip;" and when the ballad relates of such a
-tragedy, it shows of how deep effect is the scorn of the parish,
-and how wretched the fate of the unfortunate and her base-born
-offspring. The "lamentations" or confessions of condemned
-criminals are highly popular. Premeditated murder is rare among
-the Irish peasantry, in comparison with the records of ruffianism
-among the English laboring classes, and the interest excited by
-the event is deeper, and extends to a larger space of local
-influence. These lamentations are the rhymed confessions of the
-criminals, giving an account of the circumstances of the tragedy,
-sometimes in the third person, and sometimes in the first, always
-concluding with a regret at the disgrace which the criminal has
-brought on his relations, and imploring mercy for his soul.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36">{36}</a></span>
-They are of unequal merit, and, as a whole, not equal to the
-love-songs. Once in a while, there is a touch of untaught pathos;
-but being without exception the production of the hackneyed
-writers, they are as little worth preservation as the "lives" of
-eminent murderers which supply their places among us.
-</p>
-<p>
-The narrative ballads tell of every event of interest to Irish
-ears, from Aspromonte to the glorious steeplechase at Namore; the
-burning of an emigrant ship, to a ploughing-match at Pilltown,
-the same language being used for the one as the other. During the
-late war in this country, every great battle was duly sung by the
-Irish minstrels. The sympathies of the peasantry were usually
-with the majority of their kindred in the North, but not
-universally so. Thus does a bard give an account of the battle of
-New Orleans, which would astonish General Butler:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "To see the streets that evening,
-     the heart would rend with pain.
-   The human blood in rivers ran,
-     like any flood or stream.
-   Men's heads blown off their bodies,
-     most dismal for to see;
-   And wounded men did loudly cry
-     in pain and agony.
-   The Federals they did advance,
-     and broke in through the town.
-   They trampled dead and wounded
-     that lay upon the ground.
-   The wounded called for mercy,
-     but none they did receive&mdash;"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The eulogies of person or place, some patron or his residence,
-are innumerable, and ineffably absurd. Some years ago, an idle
-young lawyer at Cork happened to be visiting Blarney Castle, when
-one of these wandering minstrels came to the gate, and asked to
-dedicate a verse to "Lady Jeffers that owns this station." The
-request was granted, and the laughter of the guests, as the bard
-recited his "composition," may be imagined. The occurrence and
-the style of verse were common enough, but an idle banter incited
-the gay youth into a burlesque imitation. The result was the
-famous "Groves of Blarney," that has been sung and whistled all
-over the world. Those who have not seen the originals might
-imagine the "Groves of Blarney" to be an outrageous caricature.
-But it is not so. It hardly equals and cannot surpass some of the
-native flowers of blunder. The original is still sold in the
-streets of Cork, and some extracts, in conclusion, will show how
-much Dick Milliken was indebted to his unwitting model:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "There are fine walks in those pleasant gardens,
-     And spots most charming in shady bowers.
-   The gladiator, who is bold and daring,
-     Each night and morning to watch the flowers.
-
-  "There are fine horses and stall-fed oxen,
-     A den for foxes to play and hide,
-   Fine mares for breeding, with foreign sheep,
-     With snowy fleeces at Castle Hyde.
-
-  "The buck and doe, the fox and eagle,
-     Do skip and play at the river side.
-   The trout and salmon are always sporting
-     In the clear streams of Castle Hyde."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37">{37}</a></span>
-
-           <h2>Daybreak.</h2>
-
-           <h3>Chapter I.</h3>
-
-<p class="center">
-  "O jewel in the lotos: amen!"
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-A wide, slow whitening of the east, a silent stealing away of
-shadows, a growing radiance before which the skies receded into
-ineffable heights of pale blue and gleaming silver, and a March
-day came blowing in with locks of gold, and kindling glances, and
-girdle of gold, and golden sandals over the horizon.
-</p>
-<p>
-Louis Granger, standing in the open window of his chamber,
-laughed as he looked in the face of the morning, and stretched
-out his hands and cried, "Backsheesh, O Howadji!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Not many streets distant, another pair of eyes looked into the
-brightening east, but saw no gladness there. Margaret Hamilton
-remembered that it was her twenty-fifth birthday, and that she
-had cried herself to sleep the night before, thinking of it. But
-she would not remember former birthdays, celebrated by father,
-mother, and sisters, before they had died, one after one, and
-left her alone and aghast before the world. This, and some other
-memories still more recent, she put out of sight; and, since they
-would not stay without force, she held them out of sight. One who
-has to do this is haunted.
-</p>
-<p>
-The woman looked haunted. Her eyes were unnaturally bright and
-alert, and shadows had settled beneath them; her cheeks were worn
-thin; her mouth compressed itself in closing. At twenty-five she
-looked thirty-five.
-</p>
-<p>
-And yet Miss Hamilton was meant for a beauty&mdash;one of the
-brilliant kind, with clear gray eyes, and a creamy pallor
-contrasting with profuse black hair. The beautiful head was well
-set; something vivid and spirited in the whole air of it. Her
-height was only medium, but she had the carriage of a Jane de
-Montford, and there were not wanting those who would have
-described her as tall.
-</p>
-<p>
-While she looked gloomily out, a song she had heard somewhere
-floated up in her mind:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "The years they come, and the years they go,
-   Like winds that blow from sea to sea;
-   From dark to dark they come and go,
-   All in the dew-fall and the rain."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-It was like a dreary bitter wind sobbing about the chimneys when
-the storm is rising. She turned hastily from the window, and
-began counting the hideous phantoms of bouquets on the cheap
-wall-paper, thinking that they might be the lost souls of flowers
-that had been wicked in life; roses that had tempted, and lilies
-that had lied. The room, she found, was sixteen bouquets long,
-and fourteen and a half wide.
-</p>
-<p>
-When her eyes began to ache with this employment, she took up a
-book, and, opening it at random, read:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "A still small voice said unto me,
-  'Thou art so full of misery,
-   Were it not better not to be?'"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Was everything possessed to torment her? She dropped the book,
-and looked about in search of distraction. In the window opposite
-her stood her little easel with a partly finished cabinet
-photograph on it a man's face, with bushy whiskers, round eyes,
-an insignificant nose, the expression full of a weak fierceness
-superficially fell and determined, as though a lamb should try to
-look like a lion.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38">{38}</a></span>
-One eye was sharply finished; and, as Margaret glanced at the
-picture, this stared at her in so grotesque and threatening a
-manner that she burst into a nervous laugh.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I must turn your face to the wall, Cyclops, till I can give you
-another eye," she said, suiting the action to the word.
-</p>
-<p>
-A pile of unfinished photographs lay on a table near. She looked
-them over with an expression of weariness. "O the eyes, and
-noses, and mouths! Why will people so misuse the sunbeams? And
-this insane woman who refuses to be toned down with India ink,
-but will have colors to all the curls, and frizzles, and bows and
-ends, and countless fly-away things she has on her! She looks now
-more like an accident than a woman. When the colors are put in,
-she will be a calamity. Only one face among them pleases me&mdash;this
-pretty dear."
-</p>
-<p>
-Selecting the picture of a lovely child, Margaret looked at it
-with admiring eyes. "So sweet! I wish I had her here this moment
-with her eyes, and her curls, and her mouth."
-</p>
-<p>
-A sigh broke through the faint smile. There seemed to be a thorn
-under everything she touched. Laying the picture down, she busied
-herself in her room, opened drawers and closets and set them in
-order; gathered the few souvenirs yet remaining to her&mdash;letters,
-photographs, locks of hair&mdash;and piled them all into the grate.
-One folded paper she did not open, but held an instant in fingers
-that trembled as they clung; then, moaning faintly, threw it on
-to the pyre. Inside that paper were two locks of hair&mdash;both
-silver-threaded&mdash;twined as the two lives had been; her father's
-and her mother's.
-</p>
-<p>
-The touch of a match, and the smoke of her sacrifice curled up
-into the morning sky.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then again she came to a stand-still, and looked about for
-something to do.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I cannot work," she said. "My hand is not steady enough, and my
-eyes are dim. What was it that Beethoven wrote to his friend? 'At
-times cheerful, then again sorrowful; waiting to see if fate will
-listen to us.' Suppose I should drop everything, since I am so
-nerveless, and wait to see what fate will do."
-</p>
-<p>
-Here again the enemy stood, The picture of waiting that came up
-before her mind was that of Judge Pyncheon in the <i>House of the
-Seven Gables</i>, sitting and staring blankly as the hours went
-by&mdash;a sight to shriek out at when at length he was found. With a
-swift pencil this woman's imagination painted a companion
-picture: the door of her room opening after days of silence; a
-curious, frightened face looking in; somebody sitting there cold
-and patient, with half-open eyes, and not a word of welcome or
-questioning for the intruder.
-</p>
-<p>
-A clock outside struck ten. Margaret rose languidly and dressed
-for a walk, after pausing to rest. Raising her arms to arrange
-her hair and bonnet, she felt so faint that for a moment she was
-obliged to lean forward on her dressing-table.
-</p>
-<p>
-At length she was ready, only one duty left unperformed. Miss
-Hamilton had not said her prayers that morning, and had not even
-thought of saying them, or of reproaching herself for the
-omission&mdash;a scandalous omission, truly, for the granddaughter of
-the Rev. Doctor John Hamilton, and daughter of that excellent but
-somewhat diluted deacon, John Hamilton, his son. But to pray was
-to remember; and beside, God had forgotten her, she thought.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39">{39}</a></span>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton was not a Catholic, To her, Christ died eighteen
-centuries ago, and went to heaven, and stayed there, only looking
-and listening down in some vague and far-away manner that was
-easier to doubt than to believe. The church into which, at every
-dawn of day, the Beloved descends with shining pierced feet and
-hands; with the lips that spoke, and the eyes that saw, and the
-locks through which had sifted the winds of Olivet and the dews
-of Gethsemane; with the heart of infinite love and pity, yes, and
-the soul of infinite power&mdash;this church she knew not. To her it
-was an abomination. The temples where pain hangs crowned with a
-dolorous majesty, and where the path of sorrows is also the path
-of delights, her footsteps had never sought. To her they were
-temples of idolatry. Therefore, when troubles came upon her,
-though she faced them intrepidly, it was only with a human
-courage. What wonder if at last it proved that pain was stronger
-than she?
-</p>
-<p>
-With her hand on the latch of the door she paused, then turned
-back into her chamber again. The society face she had assumed
-dropped off; a sigh went shivering over her lips, and with it a
-half-articulated thought, silly and womanish, "If I had some one
-to come in here, put an arm around me&mdash;I'm so tired!&mdash;and say,
-'Take courage, dear!' I could bear up yet longer. I could endure
-to the end, perhaps."
-</p>
-<p>
-A silly thought, but pitiful, being so vain.
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton was not by nature one of those who, as Sir Thomas
-Browne says, looked asquint upon the face of truth. But she had
-not dared to fully realize her circumstances, lest all courage
-should die out of her heart. Now you could see that she put aside
-the last self-delusion, and boldly looked her life in the face.
-It was Medusa.
-</p>
-<p>
-One of the bravest of soldiers has said that in his first battle
-he would have been a coward if he had dared. Imagine the eyes of
-such a fighter, a foe within and a foe without, and but his own
-right arm and dauntless will between the two!
-</p>
-<p>
-Such eyes had this woman. Of her whole form, only those eyes
-seemed to live. But for them she might have been Margaret
-Hamilton's statue.
-</p>
-<p>
-At length she moved; and going slowly out, held on to the railing
-in descending the stairs. Out doors, and down Washington street,
-then, taking that direction involuntarily. It was near noon when
-she found herself in a crowd on Park street, hastening through
-it, without caring to inquire what the cause of the gathering
-was. Coming out presently in front of the state house, and seeing
-that there was space yet on the steps, she went up them, and took
-her stand near a gentleman whom she had long known by sight and
-repute. Mr. Louis Granger also recognized her, and made room,
-quietly placing himself between her and the crowd. Miss Hamilton
-scarcely noticed the movement. She was used to being attended to.
-</p>
-<p>
-This gentleman was what might be called fine-looking, and was
-thoroughly gentlemanly in appearance. He was cast in a large
-mould, both form and features, had careless hazel eyes that saw
-everything, and rather a lounging way with him. Indeed, he owned
-himself a little lazy, and used laughingly to assert his belief
-that inertia is a property of mind as well as of matter. It took
-a good deal to start him; but once started, it took still more to
-stop him. His age might be anywhere from thirty to forty, the few
-silver threads in his fine dark hair counting for nothing. You
-perceived that they had no business whatever there.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40">{40}</a></span>
-He was not a man who would catch the eye in a crowd; but, once
-your attention was directed toward him, you felt attracted. The
-charm of his face depended chiefly on expression; and those who
-pleased him called Mr. Granger beautiful.
-</p>
-<p>
-He stood now looking attentively at the lady beside him, finding
-himself interested in her. Her eyes, that were fixed on the
-advancing procession, appeared to see no more than if they had
-been jewels, and her mouth was shut as if it would never open
-again. The pale temples were hollow, the delicate nostrils were
-slightly pinched, the teeth seemed to be set hard. He studied her
-keenly, secure in her perfect abstraction, and marked even the
-frail hand that clinched, not clasped, the iron railing. Mr.
-Granger could read as much in a hand as Washington could; and
-this hand, dazzlingly fair, full-veined, pink-palmed,
-transparent, dewy, with heart-shaped finger-tips that looked as
-though some finer perception were reaching out through the flesh,
-was to him an epitome of the woman's character.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was the 17th of March, and the procession in honor of St.
-Patrick an unusually fine one. It flowed past like a river of
-color and music, with many a silken rustling of the flag of their
-adoption, but everywhere and above all the beautiful green and
-gold of that most beautiful banner in the world&mdash;a banner which
-speaks not of dominion, but of song and sunshine and the green
-earth. While other nations, higher-headed, had taken the sun, the
-star, the crescent, the eagle, or the lion for an emblem, or,
-with truer loftiness, had raised the cross as their ensign, this
-people, with a sweetness and humility all the more touching that
-it was unconscious, bent to search in the grasses, and smilingly
-and trustfully held up a shamrock as their symbol. Those had no
-need to inscribe the cross upon their escutcheon who, in the face
-of the world, bore it in their faithful hearts, and upon their
-bowed and lacerated shoulders.
-</p>
-<p>
-A pathetic spectacle&mdash;a countless procession of exiles; yet,
-happily for them, the generous land that gave them a home grew no
-dark willows to rust their harp-strings.
-</p>
-<p>
-The music was, of course, chiefly Irish airs; but one band in
-passing struck up "Sweet Home."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret started at the sound, and looked about for escape. She
-could not listen to that. Happening to glance upward, she saw a
-company of ladies and gentlemen in the balcony over the portico.
-Governor A&mdash;&mdash; was there, leaning on the railing and looking
-over. He caught her glance, and beckoned. Margaret immediately
-obeyed the summons, getting herself in hand all the way, and came
-out on the balcony with another face than that she had worn
-below. She had put on a smile; some good fairy had added a faint
-blush, and Miss Hamilton was presentable. The governor met her
-with a hearty smile and clasp of the hand. "I am glad to see
-you," he said. "Will you stand here, or take that seat Mr.
-Sinclair is offering you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, sir," he exclaimed, as Margaret turned away, continuing his
-conversation with a gentleman beside him, "the English treatment
-of the Irish is a clear case of cussedness."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Our good chief magistrate is slightly idiomatic at times,"
-remarked a lady near by.
-</p>
-<p>
-A poetess stood in the midst of a group of gentlemen, who looked
-at her, while she looked at the procession. "It is Arethusa, that
-bright stream," she said with soft eagerness, "Pursued and
-threatened at home, it has crept through shadowy ways, and leaped
-to light in a new land."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41">{41}</a></span>
-<p>
-Margaret approached Mr. Sinclair, who sat apart, and who made
-room for her beside him.
-</p>
-<p>
-Even now she noticed the splendid beauty of this man in whom
-every physical attraction was perfected. Mr. Maurice Sinclair
-might have posed for a Jupiter; but an artist would scarcely have
-taken him for a model of the prince of the apostles. He was
-superbly made, with a haughty, self-conscious beauty; his full,
-bold eyes were of a light neutral tint impossible to describe, so
-transparent were they, so dazzling their lustre; and his face was
-delicately smooth and nobly-featured. One could scarcely regret
-that the long moustache curling away from his mouth, then
-drooping below his chin, and the thick hair pushed back from his
-forehead, were of silvery whiteness. It did not seem to be decay,
-but perfection. Mr. Sinclair used to say that his head had
-blossomed.
-</p>
-<p>
-He smiled as Miss Hamilton stepped slowly toward him, the smile
-of a man entirely pleased with himself.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Own now," he said, "that you are wishing to be Irish for the
-nonce, that you might feel the full effervescence of the
-occasion."
-</p>
-<p>
-She shook her head listlessly.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Sinclair perceived that she needed to be amused. "See the
-governor wave his handkerchief!" he said. "That man has been born
-twice, once into Massachusetts, and the second time into all
-creation."
-</p>
-<p>
-She glanced at the object of his remarks, noting anew his short,
-rotund figure, his round head with all its crow's-nest of black
-ringlets, his prompt, earnest face that could be so kind. "There
-isn't a drop of mean blood in his veins," she said. "He is one of
-those rare men in whom feeling and principle go hand in hand."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Sinclair gave his shoulders a just perceptible shrug. "Do you
-know all the people here?" he asked, observing that Margaret
-looked searchingly over the company. "Let me play Helen on the
-walls of Troy, and point out the notables whom you do not know.
-That antique-cameo-faced gentleman whom you are looking at now is
-the Rev. Mr. Southard. He is misnamed of course. He should be
-called after something boreal, Does not he make you shiver? He
-lives with my cousin, whom I saw you standing beside down there.
-Louis likes him, or pretends to. Mr. Southard is not so much a
-modern minister, as a theological reminiscence. He belongs among
-the crop-heads; I have somewhere heard that he was a wild lad,
-and is now doing penance. It is likely. One doesn't bar a
-sheep-fold as one does a prison. He appears to be a little off
-guard now, for a breath seems to have forgotten predestination.
-When he looks like that, I am always reminded of something pagan,
-He'd be horrified, of course, if he knew it. Mark that Olympian
-look of painless melancholy, and the blue, motionless eye. What a
-cold, marble face he has! Being too polished to retain heat, he
-remains unmoved in the midst of enthusiasm. That's philosophy,
-isn't it? He is one of those who fancy that ceasing to be human,
-they become superhuman. They mistake the prefix, that's all. But
-Mr. Southard bristles with virtues. I must own that I never knew
-a man so forgiving toward other people's enemies."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know Mr. Southard well by reputation," Margaret interrupted
-rather warmly. "He is human, of course, and so, fallible; but
-every mountain in his soul is a Sinai!"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42">{42}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Oh! he has his good points," Mr. Sinclair admitted tranquilly.
-"I have known him to be surprised into a glorious laugh, for
-which, to be sure, he probably beat himself afterward; and he has
-a temper that peeps out now and then in a delightfully human
-fashion. I have detected in him, too, a carnal weakness for
-French chocolate, and a taste for pictures, even the pictures of
-the Babylonians. Once I saw him stand five minutes before a faded
-old painting of Cimabue's; I believe it was a virgin standing
-between two little boys who leaned to kiss each other, a hand of
-hers on either head, I don't condemn the man <i>in toto</i>. I
-like his faults; but I detest his virtues!
-</p>
-<p>
-"That stout, consequential person, with his chin in his cravat,
-who as Suckling says of Sir Toby Mathews, is always whispering
-nothing into somebody's ear, is Mr. ex-councilman Smith. He was
-thrown to the surface at the time of the Know-Nothing ebullition,
-and when that was over, was skinned off with the rest of 'em. He
-considers himself a statesman, and looks forward with prophetic
-goggle eyes to the time when his party shall be again in the
-ascendant. He comes here to nurse his wrath, and I haven't a
-doubt that he feels as though this procession were marching down
-his throat. He used to be to a joiner, then a house-builder, then
-he got to be a house-owner. Twenty years ago, my aunt Betsey, who
-lives in the country, paid him two dollars to build a trellis for
-her grape-vine, and he did it so well that she gave him his
-dinner after the family had got through. Now he has a mansion
-near hers that dwarfs her cottage to a bird-cage. His place is
-really fine, grounds worth looking at, and a stone house with
-bronze lions at the door. I don't know what he has lions there
-for, unless to indicate that Snug the joiner lives within. I'm
-not afraid of 'em. You've never heard of him here; but out there
-he is tremendous. '<i>Imposteur à la Mecque, et prophète à
-Médine</i>.'
-</p>
-<p>
-"Still there are people even here who blow about him. Psaphon's
-birds, of course, fed on Smith's oats, He hates me because he
-thinks that I laugh at him; but I don't doubt that it soothes his
-soul to know that the roses on his carpets are twice as large as
-those on mine, and that he has ten pictures to my one. The first
-thing you see when the vestibule door opens is a row of
-portraits, ten of 'em, Smith and his wife, and eight children.
-Ames painted 'em, and he must have had the nightmare regularly
-till they were done. They are larger than life, and their eyes
-move. I am positive that they move. I guess there are little
-strings behind the canvas. There they hang and stare at you, till
-you wish they were hanged by the necks. The first time I went
-there, I shook my fist at 'em behind Smith's back, and he caught
-me at it. I couldn't help it. The spectacle is enough to excite
-any man's worst feelings. The parlor walls are covered with
-landscapes painted from a cow's point of view, strong in grass
-and clover, with pleasant drinking-places, and large trees to
-stand under when the sun gets high. I never see such trees and
-water in nature, but I dare say the cows do. My wife and I dined
-there once. The eight children sat in two detachments and ate
-Black Hamburg grapes, skins and all; and the peaches were brought
-in polished like apples. My wife got into such a giggle that she
-nearly strangled. I see, you sharp-eyed Bedouin, you want to
-remind me that I have eaten of this man's salt. True, but he made
-it as bitter as any that Dante ever tasted.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43">{43}</a></span>
-<p>
-"That sober, middle-aged man in a complete suit of pepper and
-salt, hair and all, is Mr. Ames, the member from N&mdash;&mdash;, Polliwog
-Ames they call him, from his great speech. Is it possible you
-have never heard of it? It was the speech of the session. Some
-one had introduced a bill asking an appropriation of ten thousand
-dollars toward building a new museum of natural history. There
-was a little palaver on the subject, then Ames got up. All winter
-nothing had been heard from him but the scriptural yea and nay;
-so, of course, every one was attentive, 'Gentle-men,' he said,
-'while thousands of men, women, and children, in the city, and
-tens of thousands in the commonwealth, are hungry to-day, and
-will be hungry to-morrow, and are and will be too poor to buy
-food; while paupers are crowding our almshouses, and beggars are
-swarming in our streets; while all this poverty is staring us in
-the face, and putting to us the problem, how are we to be fed and
-clothed and sheltered, and kept from crime, and taught to read
-and to pray? it would seem to me, gentlemen, an unnecessary not
-to say reprehensible act, to appropriate ten thousand dollars of
-the public money, in order that some long-nosed professor might
-be enabled to show us how polliwogs wiggle their tails.' Having
-said this, Mr. Ames shut his mouth, and sat down covered with
-glory."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret's only comment was to look earnestly at this man who had
-remembered the poor.
-</p>
-<p>
-They were silent a little while; then Mr. Sinclair spoke again,
-in a lower voice. "I am going to Europe in a few weeks."
-</p>
-<p>
-She had nothing to say to this. His going would make no
-difference with her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You know, and everybody knows," he went on hastily, "that my
-wife and I have not for years lived very happily together. I
-think that few blame me. I would not wish all the blame to be
-thrown on her, either. The fact is, we never were suited to each
-other, and every day we grew more antagonistic. We had a little
-sensible talk last week, and finally agreed to separate. She will
-remain here, and I, as I said, shall go to Europe for an
-indefinite time, perhaps for ever."
-</p>
-<p>
-At any other time Margaret might have felt herself embarassed by
-such a confidence. As it was, she hardly knew what reply to make;
-but, since he waited, managed to say that if people could not
-live peacefully together, she supposed it was best they should
-separate.
-</p>
-<p>
-He spoke again abruptly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Margaret, you cannot, if you would, hide your misery from me.
-You are fitted to appreciate all that is beautiful in nature and
-art, yet are bound and cramped by the necessity of constant labor
-for your daily bread. You suffer, too, what to the refined is the
-worst sting of poverty, the being associated with, often in the
-power of, vulgar and ill-natured people, who despise you because
-you are not rich, and hate you because, being poor, you yet will
-not and cannot be like themselves. I know that there are those
-who take delight in mortifying you, in misinterpreting your every
-act and word, and in prejudicing against you persons who
-otherwise might be your friends. What a wretched, double life you
-live; petted by notable people on one hand, and insulted by
-inferiors on the other! How long is it to last? You must be aware
-that you are slipping out of the notice of your early friends.
-You cannot accept their invitations, because you have not time,
-and moreover, are not suitably dressed. By and by they will cease
-to invite you. Do you look forward to marriage? Every day your
-chances are lessening.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44">{44}</a></span>
-You are growing old before your time. I cannot see that you have
-anything to look forward to but a life of ill-paid toil, a
-gradual dropping out of the place that you were born and educated
-to fill, a loss of courage and self-respect, a lowering of the
-tastes, and at last, a sinking to the level of what you must
-despise. If you should be taken ill now, what would become of
-you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I should probably go to the charity-ward of the public
-hospital," Miss Hamilton replied coldly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What do you hope for?" he asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I hope for nothing," she answered. "I know all that you tell me,
-and far more."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Sinclair's eyes brightened. "What good are your fine friends
-to you? You would never ask them to help you, I know; but if you
-could bring yourself to that, would you not feel a bitter
-difference? It is not mean to shrink from asking favors, when
-they are for ourselves. Walter Savage Landor was neither mean nor
-a fool; yet he makes one of his best characters say that the
-highest price we can pay for a favor is to ask for it, and
-everybody who has tried knows that. You would sink at once from a
-friend to a dependent. Now your friends ask no questions, and you
-tell them no lies. If they give the subject a thought, they fancy
-you in some quiet, retired, and highly genteel apartment, if
-rather near the eaves, then so for a pure northern light,
-leisurely and elegantly painting photographs, for which you
-receive the highest prices, and thanks to boot. They don't see an
-upstartly assistant criticising your work, or a stingy employer
-taking off part of the price for some imaginary flaw. And if they
-did, they would only tell you that such annoyances are trivial,
-that you must rise above them. I've heard that kind of talk. But
-those who go down to battle with the pigmies know how tormenting
-their bites are. The worst of it is, too, that you cannot long
-maintain the dignity and purity of your own character in this
-petty strife, It isn't in the nature of things, I don't care what
-may be said to the contrary by parlor ascetics and philosophers.
-They have no right to dogmatize on the necessary influence of
-circumstances in which they have never been placed. Moreover,
-constant labor is lowering to the mind, and any work is degrading
-to the person who can do a higher kind of work. It may be saving
-to him whose leisure would be employed in frivolity and license;
-but that person is already base. The time you spend in studying
-how to make one dollar do the work of five makes a lower being of
-you. I can see this in you, Margaret. Your manners and
-conversation are not what they were. You have no time to read, or
-think, or look at pictures, or hear lectures, or listen to
-music&mdash;none. You have only time for work, and, the work finished,
-are too weary for anything but sleep; perhaps too weary for that
-even, How long do you expect to keep up with such a life dragging
-at you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton lifted between her finger and thumb a fold of the
-dress she wore. "All the time I could spare from my painting in
-the last three weeks has been devoted to the task of making this
-dress out of an old one," she said. "It was a difficult problem;
-but I solved it. I was always fond of the mathematics. Of course,
-during those three weeks my universe revolved around a black
-bombazine centre. O sir! I know better than you can tell me, how
-degrading such labor is. God in the beginning imposed it as a
-curse; and a curse it is!"
-</p>
-<p>
-There was again a momentary pause, during which Mr. Sinclair's
-merciless eyes searched the cold face
-beside him.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45">{45}</a></span>
-Margaret did not observe that all the company had gone, that the
-procession had disappeared, the crowd melted away. She had sat
-there and listened like one in a dream, too dull and weary to be
-angry, or to wonder that such words should be addressed to her,
-and such bold assertions made, where her most intimate friends
-had never ventured a hint even.
-</p>
-<p>
-When Mr. Sinclair spoke again, his voice was soft and earnest.
-"Have you any friend so dear and trusty, that his frown would
-make your heart ache yet more? In all the world, do you know one
-to whom your actions are of moment, who thinks of you anxiously
-and tenderly, for whose sake you would walk in a straight path,
-though it might be full of thorns? Is there one?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"There is not one," she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come with me, then!" he exclaimed. "Think of Italy, and what
-that name means, of the east, of all the lands that live in song
-and in story. Drop for ever from your hands the necessity for
-toil, and let your heart and mind take holiday. 'Not one,' you
-said; but, Maud, you mistook, I thought of you all the time, and
-got your troubles by heart. Leave this miserable, cramping life
-of yours, and come with me where we shall be as free from
-criticism as if we were disembodied spirits. Forget this paltry
-Boston, with its wriggling streets and narrow breaths. Fancy now
-that the breeze in our faces blows off the blue Mediterranean,
-the little dome above us rises and swells to St. Peter's, that
-last flutter of a banner over the hill is the argent ground with
-golden keys. Or Victor Immanuel has got Rome for his own, and
-there floats the red, white, and green of Italy. How you would
-color and brighten like a rose under such sunshine! Come with me,
-Margaret, come!
-</p>
-<p>
-She looked at him with troubled, uncomprehending eyes, groping
-for the meaning under the flowery speech. His glance dazzled her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is like a fairy-tale," she said. "How can it come true? I am
-poor, yet you bid me travel as only the rich can. How am I to go
-with you? who else is going?"
-</p>
-<p>
-He smiled. "O silly Margaret! since there is no other way, and
-since in all the world there is no one to care for or to question
-you, come with me alone."
-</p>
-<p>
-Then Margaret Hamilton knew that her cup of bitterness had lacked
-one poisoned drop. She got up from the seat, shrinking away,
-feeling as though she lessened physically.
-</p>
-<p>
-But when she reached the door, Mr. Sinclair was there before her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"At least, forgive me!" she heard him say.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Let me go!" she exclaimed, without looking up.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Remember my tenderness and pity for you," he urged.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You have none!" she said. "Let me go."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And you are not indifferent to me," he continued.
-</p>
-<p>
-She lifted her face at that, and looked at him with eyes that
-were bright, gray, and angry as an eagle's.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Maurice Sinclair," she said haughtily, "I thank you for one
-thing. Weary, and miserable, and lonely as I have been, I could
-not have been certain, without this test, that such a temptation
-would not make me hesitate. But now I know that temptation comes
-from within, not from without, and that infamy attracts only the
-infamous. I care for you, you think? My admiration and my
-friendships are free; but I am not a woman to tear my hands on
-other people's hedges. Let me tell you, sir, that I must honor a
-man before I can feel any affection for him.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46">{46}</a></span>
-I must know that, though being human he might stumble, his proper
-stature is upright. If I cared for you, I could not stand here
-and scorn you, as I do; I should pray you to be true to your
-noble self, to give me back my trust in you. I should forgive
-you; but my forgiveness would be coals of fire on your head. If I
-could love a man well enough to sin for him, I should love him
-too well for that. Oh! it was manly, and tender, and generous of
-you, was it not? I had lost all but self-respect, and you would
-have taken that from me. But, sir, I have wings which you can
-never entangle!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You have nowhere to turn," he said.
-</p>
-<p>
-She stood one instant as though his words were indeed true, then
-threw her hands upward, "I turn to God! I turn to God!" she cried
-out.
-</p>
-<p>
-When she looked at him again, Mr. Sinclair stepped aside and let
-her pass.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the strength that passion gives is brief, and when Margaret
-reached the street, she was trembling with weakness. Where to go?
-Not home; oh! not to that gloomy place! She walked across the
-Common, and thence to the Public Gardens, every step a weariness.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I must stay out in the sunshine," she thought, taking a seat
-under the great linden-tree that stands open to the west.
-"Darkness, and chilly, shadowed places are terrible. Oh! what
-next?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Though she had called on God, she yet believed not in him, poor
-Margaret! Hers had been the instinctive outcry of one driven to
-desperation; and when the impulse subsided, then darkness fell
-again.
-</p>
-<p>
-Sitting there, she drew from her pocket a little folded paper,
-opened it in an absent way, and dreamily examined the delicate
-white powder it contained. More than once, when life had pressed
-too heavily, the enchanter hidden under this delusive form had
-came to her aid, had loosened the tense cords that bound her
-forehead, unclasping them with a touch as light and tender as
-love's own, had charmed away the pain from flesh and spirit. She
-recollected now anew its sinuous and subtile ways. First, a deep
-and gradually settling quietude of mind and body, all disturbing
-influences stealing away so noiselessly that their going was
-imperceptible, a prickling in the arms, a languor in the throat
-and at the roots of the tongue, a sweet fainting of the breath,
-an entire and perfect peace. Then a slowly rising perception of
-pleasures already in possession yet unnoticed before.
-</p>
-<p>
-How delightful the mere involuntary act of breathing! How airily
-intoxicating the full, soft rush of blood through the arteries,
-swinging noisily like a dance to a song, never lost, in whatever
-labyrinthine windings it might wander. How the universe opened
-like a folded bud, like myriad buds that bloom in light and color
-and perfume! The air and the sunshine became miracles; common
-things slipped off their disguise, and revealed undreamed-of
-glories. All this in silence. And presently the silence would be
-found rhythmic like a tune.
-</p>
-<p>
-She went no farther. The point at which all these downy
-influences became twined into a cord as potent as the fabulous
-Gleipnir, and tightened about both body and soul with its soft,
-implacable coils&mdash;that her thought glanced away from.
-</p>
-<p>
-She carefully shook the shining powder into a little heap in the
-paper. There was ten times as much as she had ever taken at once;
-but then she had ten times greater need of rest and
-forgetfulness. Her head felt giddy, as if a wheel were going
-within it.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47">{47}</a></span>
-Catching at that thought of a wheel, her confused memory called
-up strange eastern scenes, a temple in a gorge among rocky
-mountains; outside, the dash of a torrent foaming over its rough
-bed between the palms; not far away, the jungle, where the tiger
-springs with a golden flash through the shadows; within, hideous
-carved idols with vestments of cloth of gold, and silver bowls
-set before them, the noiseless entering of a gliding lama, the
-bowed form and hand outstretched to twirl the praying-wheel,
-whereon is wound in million-fold repetition the one desire of his
-soul, "<i>Um mani panee, houm!</i>" O jewel in the lotos! Rest
-and forgetfulness! So her thought kept murmuring with weary
-persistency.
-</p>
-<p>
-As she raised the morphine to her lips, some one touched her arm.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Madam!" said a man's voice just behind her shoulder.
-</p>
-<p>
-She started and half turned. "Well, sir!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"What have you there?" he asked, without removing his hand.
-</p>
-<p>
-She shook herself loose from him. "Will you go on, sir? you are
-insolent!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I cannot go while you have such a face, and while that paper is
-in your hand," Louis Granger said firmly; and reaching, took the
-morphine from her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her glance slid away from his face, and became fixed.
-</p>
-<p>
-"O child! what would you do?" he exclaimed.
-</p>
-<p>
-She did not appear to hear him. She was swaying in her seat, and
-her breath came sobbingly.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger called a carriage that was passing, and led her to
-it. She made no resistance, and did not object, scarcely noticed,
-indeed, when he seated himself opposite her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Walk your horses till I find out where the lady wants to go," he
-said to the driver.
-</p>
-<p>
-When, after a few minutes of sickening half-consciousness,
-Margaret began to realize who and where she was, and looked at
-Mr. Granger, she met his eyes full of tears.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have no claim on your confidence," he said, "but I desire to
-serve you; and if you can trust me, I assure you that you will
-never have reason to regret it."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret dropped her face into her hands, and all the pride died
-out of her heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I was starving," she said. "I have not tasted food for
-twenty-four hours; and for a week I have eaten nothing but dry
-bread."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger leaned quickly and took her hand in a strong grasp,
-as we take the hands of the dying, to give them strength to die.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I worked day and night," she sobbed; "and I only got enough to
-make me decent, and pay for my room. I have done all I could; but
-I was losing the strength to do. I have been starving so for more
-than a year, growing worse every day. I wasn't responsible for
-trying to take the morphine. My head is so light and my heart is
-so heavy, that everything seems strange, and I don't quite know
-what is right and what is wrong."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger's sympathy was painfully excited. He was not only
-shocked and hurt for this woman, but he felt that in some way he
-was to blame when such things could be. He had also that
-uneasiness which we all experience when reminded how deceitful is
-the fair surface of life, and what tragedies may be going on
-about us, under our very eyes, yet unseen and unsuspected by us.
-"What if my own little girl should come to this!" he thought.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What was Mr. Sinclair saying to you up there?" he asked
-abruptly.
-</p>
-<p>
-She told him without hesitation.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48">{48}</a></span>
-<p>
-"The villain!" he muttered.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No," Margaret replied sadly, "I think that according to his
-light, he had some kind meaning. You know he doesn't believe in
-any religion, that he denies revelation; yet you would not call
-him a villain for that. Why then is he a villain for denying a
-moral code that is founded on revelation? He is consistent. If
-God and my own instincts had not forbidden me to accept his
-proposal, nothing else would have had power."
-</p>
-<p>
-She sighed wearily, and leaned against the back of the carriage.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Promise to trust all to me now," Mr. Granger said hastily, "I am
-not a Maurice Sinclair."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Have I not trusted you?" she asked with trembling lips.
-"Besides, it seems that God has sent you to me, and trusting you
-is trusting him. I didn't expect him to answer me; but I called,
-and he has answered."
-</p>
-<br>
-
-         <h3>Chapter  II.
-<br><br>
-         A Louis D'or.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-With the exception of that perfect domestic circle not often
-beheld save in visions, there is perhaps no more delightful
-social existence than may be enjoyed where a few congenial
-persons are gathered under one roof, in all the freedom of
-private life, but without its cares, where no one is obliged to
-entertain or be entertained, but is at liberty to be
-spontaneously charming or disagreeable, according to his mood,
-where comfort is taken thought of, and elegance is not forgotten.
-</p>
-<p>
-Into such an establishment Mr. Granger's home had expanded after
-the death of his wife. It could not be called a boarding-house,
-since he admitted only a few near friends; and he refused to
-consider himself as host, The only visible authorities in the
-place were Mrs. James, the housekeeper, whose weapon was a
-duster, and Miss Dora Granger, whose sceptre was a blossom.
-</p>
-<p>
-The house was a large, old-fashioned one, standing with plentiful
-elbow-room in a highly respectable street that had once been very
-grand, and there were windows on four sides. All these windows
-looked like pleasant eyes with spectacles over them. There was a
-rim of green about the place, a tall horse-chestnut-tree each
-side of the street,
-and an irrepressible grape-vine
-that, having been planted at the rear of the
-house, was now well on its way to the front. This vine was
-unpruned, an embodied mirth, flinging itself in every direction,
-making the slightest thing it could catch at an excuse for the
-most profuse luxuriance, so happy it could never stop growing, so
-full of life it could not grow old.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the days when Mr. Granger's grandfather built this mansion,
-walls were not raised with an eye chiefly to the accommodation of
-Pyramus and Thisbe. They grew slowly and solidly, of honest
-stone, brick, and mortar. They had timbers, not splinters; there
-wasn't an inch of veneering from attic to basement; and instead
-of stucco, they had woodwork with flutings as fine as those of a
-lady's ruffle. When you see mahogany-colored doors in one of
-those dwellings, you may be pretty sure that the doors are
-mahogany; and the white knobs and hinges do not wear red.
-Cannon-balls fired at these houses stick in the outer wall.
-</p>
-<p>
-Such was Mr. Louis Granger's home. Miss Hamilton had looked at
-that house many a time, and sighingly contrasted it with the
-dingy brick declivity in which she had her eyrie, Now she was to
-live here.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How wishes do sometimes come fulfilled, if we only wish long
-enough!" she thought, as the carriage in which she had come drew
-up before the steps.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49">{49}</a></span>
-Mr. Granger stood in the open door, and there was a glimpse of
-the housekeeper behind him, looking out with the utmost respect
-on the equipage of their visitor&mdash;for one of Miss Hamilton's
-wealthy friends had offered her a carriage.
-</p>
-<p>
-But as the step was let down, and the liveried footman stood
-bowing before her, Margaret shrank back with a sudden
-recollection that was unspeakably bitter and humiliating. In
-spite of the mocking show, she was coming to this house as a
-beggar, literally asking for bread. On the impulse of the moment,
-she could have turned back to her attic and starvation rather
-than accept friendship on such terms. In that instant all the
-petty spokes and wheels in the engine of her poverty combined
-themselves for one wrench more.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have been watching for you," said Mr. Granger's voice at the
-carriage-door.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret gave him her hand, and stepped out on to the pavement,
-her face downcast and deeply blushing.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I hope I have not incommoded you," she said coldly.
-</p>
-<p>
-He made no reply, and seemed not to have heard her ungracious
-comment; but when they reached the threshold, he paused there,
-and said earnestly, "I bid you welcome to your new home. May it
-be to you a happy one!"
-</p>
-<p>
-She looked up gratefully, ashamed of her bitterness.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger's manner was joyful and cordial, as if he were
-receiving an old friend, or meeting some great good fortune.
-Bidding the housekeeper wait, he conducted Margaret to a room
-near by, and seated her there to hear one word more before he
-should go to his business and leave her to the tender mercies of
-his servants. As she sat, he stood before her, and leaning on the
-high back of a chair, looked smilingly down into the expectant
-and somewhat anxious face that looked up at him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am so cruel as to rejoice over every circumstance which has
-been influential in adding to my household so welcome and
-valuable a friend," he said. "I have worlds for you to do. First,
-my little Dora is in need of your care. It is time she should
-begin to learn something. I have also consented, subject to your
-approval, to associate with her two little girls of her age, who
-live near, and will come here for their lessons. Besides this, a
-friend of mine, who is preparing a scientific work, and who does
-not understand French, wishes you to make some translations for
-him. Does this suit you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Perfectly!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"But first you must rest," he said. "And now I will leave you to
-get acquainted with the house under Mrs. James's auspices. Do not
-forget that your comfort and happiness are to be considered, that
-you are to ask for whatever you may want, and mention whatever
-may be not to your liking, Have you anything to say to me now?"
-pausing with his hand on the door-knob.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," she replied, smiling, to hide emotion; "as in the Koran
-God said of St. John, so I of you, 'May he be blessed the day
-whereon he was born, the day whereon he shall die, and the day
-whereon he shall be raised to life!'"
-</p>
-<p>
-He took her hand in a friendly clasp, then opened the door, and
-with a gesture that included the whole house, said, "You are at
-home!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret glanced after him as he went out, and thought, "At home!
-The French say it better: I am <i>chez vous!</i>"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50">{50}</a></span>
-<p>
-"You have to go up two flights, Miss Hamilton," the housekeeper
-began apologetically, with the footman still in her eye.
-"But Mr. Granger said that you want a good deal of light. Mr. and
-Mrs. Lewis occupy that front room over the parlor, and the next
-one is the spare-chamber, and that one under yours is Mr.
-Granger's, and that little one is Dora's, and the long one back
-in the L is Mr. Southard's. Up this other flight, Miss Aurelia
-Lewis has the front chamber. She likes it because the
-horse-chestnut tree comes up against the window. In summer you
-can hardly see through. It's like being in the woods. There, this
-is your chamber," flinging open the door of a large, airy room
-that had two deep windows looking over the house-tops straight
-into the eyes of the east. The coloring of this room was
-delightfully fresh and cool, the walls a pale olive-green, the
-wood-work white, and the wide mantel-piece of green marble. There
-were snow-white muslin curtains, Indian matting on the floor, and
-the chairs were all wicker, except one, a crimson-cushioned
-arm-chair. The old-fashioned bureau and wardrobe were of solid
-mahogany adorned with glittering brass knobs and handles, and the
-black and gilt framed looking-glass had brass candle-sockets at
-each side. The open grate was filled with savin-boughs, and a
-bright shell set in the midst. In the centre of the mantle-piece
-was a white vase running over full of glistening smilax sprays,
-and at each end stood a brass candlestick with a green wax candle
-in it. There were three pictures on the three blank walls; one a
-water-color of moss-roses and buds dew sprinkled, the second, a
-chromo of a yellow-gray cat stretched out in an attitude of
-slumbrous repose, her tail coiled about her lithe haunches, her
-head advanced and resting on her paws, her eyes half shut, but
-showing a sly line of watchful golden lustre. The third was a
-very good engraving of the Sistine Madonna. A large closet with
-drawers and shelves, delightful to feminine eyes, led back from
-this quaint and pleasant chamber.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret glanced around her pretty nest, then flung off her
-bonnet and shawl, and, seating herself in the armchair by the
-window, for the first time really looked at the housekeeper. Till
-that moment she had not been conscious of the woman.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. James was hospitably making herself busy doing nothing,
-moving chairs that were already well placed, and wiping off
-imaginary specks of dust. She looked as though she would be an
-excellent housekeeper, and put her whole soul in the business;
-but appeared to be neutral otherwise.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Everything here was as clean as your eye this morning," she
-said, frowning anxiously as she stooped to bring a suspected
-table-top between her vision and the light.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Everything is exquisite," Miss Hamilton replied. "One can't help
-having a speck of dust now and then, The earth is made of it, you
-know."
-</p>
-<p>
-The housekeeper sighed wofully. "Yes, there's a great deal of
-dirt in the world."
-</p>
-<p>
-When she was left alone, Margaret still sat there, letting the
-room get acquainted with her, and settling herself into a new and
-delicious content. Happening after a while to glance toward the
-door, she saw it slowly and noiselessly moving an inch or two,
-stopping, then again opening a little way. She continued to look,
-wondering what singular current of air or eccentricity of hinge
-produced that intermittent motion. Presently she spied, clasped
-around the edge of the door, at about two feet from the carpet,
-four infinitesimal fingertips, rosy-white against the
-yellow-white of the paint. Miss Hamilton checked the breath a
-little on her smiling lips, and awaited further revelations.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51">{51}</a></span>
-<p>
-After a moment, there appeared just above the fingers a
-half-curled, flossy lock of pale gold-colored hair, and softly
-dawning after that aurora, a beautiful child's face.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! come to me!" exclaimed Margaret.
-</p>
-<p>
-Immediately the face disappeared, and there was silence.
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton leaned back in her chair again, and began to
-recollect the tactics for such cases made and provided by the
-great law-giver Nature. She affected not to be aware that the
-silken locks reappeared, and after them a glimpse of a low,
-milk-white forehead, then a blue, bright eye, and finally, the
-whole exquisite little form in a gala-dress of white, with a gay
-sash and shoulder-knots.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dora came in looking intently at the mantel-piece, and
-elaborately unconscious that there was any one present but
-herself. Miss Hamilton's attention was entirely absorbed by the
-outer world.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I never did see such a lovely flower as there is in that
-window," she soliloquized. "It is as pink as ever it can be.
-Indeed, I think it is a little pinker than it can conveniently
-be. It must have to try hard."
-</p>
-<p>
-Dora glanced toward the stranger, and listened attentively.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And I see three tiny clouds scudding down the east. I shouldn't
-be surprised if their mother didn't know they are out. They run
-as if they didn't mean to stop till they get into the middle of
-next week."
-</p>
-<p>
-Dora took a step or two nearer, looked warily at the speaker, and
-peeped out the window in search of the truant cloudlets.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And there is another cloud overhead that has gone sound asleep,"
-Miss Hamilton pursued as tranquilly as if she had been sitting
-there and talking time out of mind. "One side of it is as white
-as it can be, and the other side is so much whiter than it can
-be, that it makes the white side look dark. If anybody wants to
-see it, she had better make haste."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Anybody," was by this time close to the window, looking out with
-all her eyes, her hand timidly, half unconsciously touching the
-lady's dress.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! what a splendid bird!" cried the enchantress. "What a pity
-it should fly away! But it may come back again pretty soon."
-</p>
-<p>
-Silence, and the pressure of a dimpled elbow on Margaret's knee.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I suppose you don't care much about sitting in my lap, so as to
-see better," was the next remark, addressed, apparently, to all
-out-doors.
-</p>
-<p>
-The child began shyly to climb to the lady's knee, and was
-presently assisted there.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Such a bird!" sighed Margaret then, looking at the little one,
-thinking that by this time her glance could be borne. "It had
-yellow specks on its breast," illustrating with profuse and
-animated gestures, "and a long bill, and a glossy head with
-yellow feathers standing up on top, and yellow stripes on its
-wings," pointing toward her own shoulders, her glance following
-her finger. Then a break, and an exclamation of dismay, "What has
-become of my wings?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Dora reached up to look over the lady's shoulder, but saw only
-the back of a well-fitting bombazine gown.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I guess they's flied away," said the child in the voice of a
-anguid bobolink.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then I'll tell you a story," said Margaret. "Once there was a
-lady who lived in a real mean place, and she didn't have a good
-time at all. She was just as lonesome and homesick as she could
-be. One day she brought home the photograph of a dear little
-girl, and that she liked. And she wished that she could see the
-real little girl, and that she could talk to her; but she had
-only the paper picture.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52">{52}</a></span>
-Well, by and by she went to live in a delightful house; and while
-she sat in her chamber, the door opened, and who should come in
-but the same dear child whose picture she had loved! Wasn't the
-lady glad then?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who was the little girl?" asked Dora with a shy, conscious look
-and smile.
-</p>
-<p>
-The answer was a shower of kisses all over her sweet face, and
-two tears that dropped unseen into her sunny hair.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-        To Be Continued
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-     <h2>Comparative Morality Of Catholic<br>
-        And Protestant Countries.</h2>
-
-<p>
-It is truly refreshing to read in <i>Putnam's Magazine</i> for
-January, 1869, the article entitled, "The Literature of the
-Coming Controversy," written, as we now know, by Rev. Leonard W.
-Bacon, a Protestant minister of Brooklyn, In it, he castigates
-most soundly the well known anti-popery society called "The
-American and Foreign Christian Union," "numbering," as he says,
-among its vice-presidents and directors, some of the most eminent
-pastors, bishops, theologians, and civilians of the American
-Protestant churches. Some of its publications he calls "wicked
-impostures" and "shameful scandals," and wonders "how they can
-stand, from year to year, accredited to the public by some of the
-most eminent and excellent men in the country." Our wonder is
-still greater how he can call men who countenance such things
-"excellent." He says: "All the time that this society has been
-running its manufactory of falsehoods and scandals, only the
-resolute good sense of the public, in not buying the rubbish, has
-saved the church of Christ from a burning and ineffaceable
-disgrace." The disgrace to the church, it seems to us, is the
-same, since its chief men are implicated in this proceeding,
-"whether the public buy the rubbish or not." We honor Mr. Bacon
-for his manly, straightforward conduct, and thank him for this
-act of justice. It is the first we have had to rejoice in for a
-long while, but we hope it will not be the last. The time seems
-to be approaching, when calumny and abuse will no longer be
-received with favor by the public, and the Catholic Church be
-allowed to speak in her own defence, and listened to, and judged
-of, according to her own intrinsic merits. All we ask is fair
-play, and we are confident the truth will make itself known.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the Rev. Mr. Bacon, after denouncing the lying and scurrilous
-attacks against the church, goes on to say: "It is a pleasant
-relief to take up another author&mdash;the Rev. M. Hobart Seymour, of
-the Church of England. His two books, entitled <i>Mornings with
-the Jesuits at Rome</i>, and <i>Evenings with the Romanists</i>,
-are models of religious controversy. The latter of the two,
-especially, being the more popular, is peculiarly fitted to be
-effective in general circulation." &hellip;. "This sprightly,
-instructive, and interesting book has gone out of print." &hellip; It
-is out of print in English; but desiring to gladden our eyes with
-a copy of this model of "courtesy, fairness, ability, and
-religious feeling," we procured a translation into Spanish,
-entitled, <i>Noches con los Romanistas</i>, issued by The
-American Tract Society, for the use of benighted Spaniards.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53">{53}</a></span>
-We have read the opening chapter, and found it enough. We are
-tempted to exclaim with bitter disappointment, Is this all the
-fairness and justice we are to expect from one who is described
-as the "model" of a Protestant controversialist? We prefer the
-McGavins, the Brownlees, or the Kirwans whom Mr. Bacon so justly
-holds up to public scorn. This man stabs you in the dark; he is a
-Titus Oates, who swears away your life by false testimony&mdash;by
-telling just enough to convict you, when he knows enough to give
-you an honorable acquittal.
-</p>
-<p>
-This opening chapter has for its theme the relative effects of
-Protestantism and the Catholic religion upon the morality of
-those under their respective influence; and to show that Catholic
-countries, in comparison to Protestant, are sinks of crime and
-impurity. This, if fairly proved, would be a practical argument
-of overwhelming force, sufficient to close the mind against all
-that can be said in favor of the Catholic Church; and be a
-sufficient reason, with most people, for refusing even to
-entertain her claims to be the Church of God. We know that she is
-Christ's Church, and that just in proportion as she exerts her
-influence, virtue and morality must prevail; and that it is
-impossible to prove, unless through fraud and misrepresentation,
-that the practical working of her system produces a morality
-inferior to that of any other.
-</p>
-<p>
-We know all the importance of the question; it is one that
-touches our good name, and we feel indignation against any one
-who shall attempt to rob us of it, by any mean or unfair tricks.
-Let us see how our "model" controversialist deals with this
-matter. "In order not to cause a useless waste of time by going
-over all sorts of crimes," he selects the greatest one, that of
-murder or homicide. Then he selects England, and compares it with
-nearly all the Catholic countries of Europe, and shows it to be
-at least four times better than the very best of them. We do not
-propose to ferret this out; we cannot lay our hands upon the
-statistics of this particular crime, which seem to be everywhere
-very loosely given; but we can show shortly, that his conclusions
-are utterly false. He gives the number of persons
-<i>imprisoned</i> on this charge of homicide in England and
-Wales, during 1852, as 74, and the annual mean for three years as
-72. This will strike every one as simply ridiculous. Luckily, the
-<i>Statistical Journal</i> of 1867 gives the following tables of
-this crime for 1865, as follows:
-</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>Verdicts Of Coroners' Juries.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Wilful murder</td><td>227</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Manslaughter</td><td>282</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Total</td><td>509</td></tr>
-</table>
-<br><br>
-<table>
-<tr><td>Police Returns</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Wilful murder</td>       <td>135</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Manslaughter</td>        <td>279</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Concealment of birth</td><td>232</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Total</td>               <td>646</td></tr>
-</table>
-<br><br>
-<table>
-<tr><td>Criminal Tables</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Wilful murder cases tried</td>        <td>60</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Manslaughter, cases tried</td>        <td>316</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Concealment of birth, cases tried</td><td>143</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Total</td>                            <td>519</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54">{54}</a></span>
-<p>
-If 519 were tried, we may judge of the number <i>imprisoned</i>.
-The author of the article in the <i>Journal</i> says: "The police
-returns do not correspond with the coroners', and the discrepancy
-is so great that I can only account for it on the supposition
-that, according to the police view of it, infanticide is not
-murder." The number of coroners' inquests held in 1865, in
-England and Wales, was
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>Total</td><td>25,011</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Verdict of accidental deaths</td><td>11,397</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-He continues, "Open verdicts, as they are termed, such as, 'found
-dead,' or 'found drowned,' are rendered in many cases when a more
-accurate knowledge would have led to the verdict of 'wilful
-murder.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-It is just as easy to compare the total of first-class criminals
-of all sorts, as to select homicide.
-</p>
-<p>
-Alison [Footnote 19] says, "The proportion of crime to the
-inhabitants was <i>twelve times</i> greater in Prussia
-(Protestant) than in France, (Catholic,) and in Austria,
-(Catholic,) the proportion of convicted crime is not <i>one
-fourth</i> of what is found in Prussia." The <i>Statistical
-Journals</i> for 1864-65 show that France is better than England.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 19: <i>History of Europe</i>, vol. iii. chap,
-    xxvii. 10, 11.]
-</p>
-<p>
-There were no less than 846 deaths of children under one year
-old, in 1857, in England and Wales from violent causes, [Footnote
-20] from which we may form some little idea of the extent of only
-one sort of homicide.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 20: <i>Statistical Journal</i>, 1859.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Only 74 incarcerations for homicide in all England and Wales for
-the year 1852! Why, it is stated in the <i>New York Herald</i> of
-February 4th, that 78 persons were arrested last year for murder
-in New York alone. We can easily imagine what the grand total for
-the United States must be, and how much better is England, with
-its pauperism and crime, than the United States?
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Seymour undoubtedly is "sprightly" enough, but only
-"instructive" by showing us the amount of nonsense which the
-public is expected to swallow without examination, where the
-Catholic Church is concerned, and the amount of fair play to be
-expected from a "model" of a Protestant controversialist.
-</p>
-<p>
-But as a comparison based on "homicide" alone would prove
-nothing, any more than one based on drunkenness or robbery, Mr.
-Seymour institutes another, in respect to unchastity, or
-immorality, and here he sets up as his criterion the amount of
-<i>illegitimacy</i> among Catholics and Protestants respectively.
-In any community, the moral condition is to be estimated by the
-greater or smaller proportion of illegitimacy. We object to this
-as a very unreliable test. In some communities, an illegitimate
-birth is almost unknown, and yet they are the most corrupt and
-licentious on the face of the earth. Infanticide and foeticide
-replace illegitimacy. A young woman falls from virtue; but in
-spite of the finger of scorn which will be pointed at her, her
-sense of religious duty restrains her from adding a horrible
-crime to her sin. What is her moral condition in the sight of
-God, compared with that of the guilty one whom no fear of the
-Almighty has restrained from the commission of this crime? The
-absence of illegitimacy may be the most convincing proof of a
-state of moral corruption, as in Persia and Turkey, where no
-children except in wedlock, are suffered to see the light of the
-world. [Footnote 21]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [Footnote 21: Storer, <i>Criminal Abortion</i>, p. 32.]
-</p>
-<p>
-There are good reasons why more illegitimate children might be
-expected to be born among Catholics than among Protestants, and
-yet the former be much more the moral than the latter. "The
-doctrine of the Catholic Church," says Bishop Fitzpatrick, "her
-canons, her pontifical constitutions, her theologians, without
-exception teach, and constantly have taught, that the destruction
-of the human foetus in the womb of the mother, at any period from
-the first instant of conception, is a heinous crime, equal at
-least in guilt to that of murder." [Footnote 22]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 22: Ibid. p. 72.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55">{55}</a></span>
-<p>
-This is understood by Catholics of all classes, and inspires a
-salutary horror of the crime. Protestantism does not teach
-morality in this definite way, but leaves people to reason out
-for themselves the degree of criminality of particular offences.
-Let us listen to Dr. Storer, an eminent Protestant physician. "It
-is not, of course, intended to imply that Protestantism, as such,
-in any way encourages, or indeed permits, the practice of
-inducing abortion; its tenets are uncompromisingly hostile to all
-crime. So great, however, is the popular ignorance regarding this
-offence, that an abstract morality is here comparatively
-powerless; our American women arrogate to themselves the
-settlement of what they consider, if doubtful, purely an ethical
-question; and there can be no doubt that the Romish ordinance,
-flanked on the one hand by the confessional, and by denouncement
-and excommunications on the other, has saved to to the world
-thousands of infant lives." [Footnote 23] Rev. Dr. Todd, a
-Protestant minister of Pittsfield, Mass., to his honor be it
-said, has had the courage to declare the same thing in similar
-words. [Footnote 24] Dr. Storer proceeds, "During the ten years
-that have passed since the preceding sentence was written, we
-have had ample verification of its truth. Several hundreds of
-Protestant women have personally acknowledged to us their guilt,
-against whom only seven Catholics, and of these we found, upon
-further inquiry, that but two were only nominally so, not going
-to the confession." [Footnote 25]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 23: <i>Criminal Abortion</i>, P. 74.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 24: <i>Serpents in the Dove's Nest</i>.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 25: <i>Criminal Abortion</i>, p. 74.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Two communities exist, in which, say, an equal amount of
-unchastity occurs. In one, religion restrains from the commission
-of further crime, and there is much illegitimacy apparent; in the
-other, criminal abortion destroys all the evidence, and though
-horribly corrupt in comparison, the appearance is all the other
-way. Some such comparison might be made between Paris and Boston;
-with what truth, each one can determine for himself, And there is
-another reason which adds force to what has been said. In
-Catholic countries, foundling hospitals, established for the very
-purpose of saving infant life, exist everywhere, Knowing that the
-temptation to conceal one's shame will, in many cases, be too
-strong to be resisted, and thus one crime be added to another,
-the impulse of Christian charity has caused the founding of these
-hospitals, so that the infant, instead of being killed, may be
-provided for, and the mother have a chance to repent, without
-being for ever marked with the brand of shame. Scarcely any such
-exist among Protestants. To set up, then, illegitimacy as the
-best criterion of the morals of a community, is a palpable
-injustice to Catholics.
-</p>
-<p>
-But let us, nevertheless, follow Mr. Seymour on his own chosen
-ground, He thinks the Catholic country people may, in the absence
-of peculiar temptations, be as good as the Protestant; and that
-the state of great cities will show more the influence of
-religion on the morals of the people, We think the opposite; for
-in great cities there are immense masses of degraded people, who
-abandon the practice of religion, never go to church, and for
-whom the Protestant church, at least, would be apt to disclaim
-all responsibility. The country people are within the knowledge
-and the voice of the preacher or the priest, and religion
-exercises its proper influence upon them.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56">{56}</a></span>
-<p>
-He selects London, on the Protestant side, as the largest city in
-the world, the richest, and where there are "the most numerous,
-the strongest, and the most varied temptations;" and, of course,
-where there should naturally be the most vice and crime. But
-facts contradict theory. The percentage of illegitimate births in
-London is 4.2, while that for all England and Wales is 6.5, and
-in the country districts, where the "numerous, strong, and varied
-temptations" are wanting, it varies from 9 to over 11. [Footnote
-26]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 26: <i>Statistical Journal</i>, 1862.]
-</p>
-<p>
-London is compared with Paris, Brussels, Munich, and Vienna; and
-the rates are given as follows:
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">
-Proportion Of Illegitimate Births.
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr> <td>In Paris</td> <td>Roman Catholic</td> <td>thirty-three per cent</td> </tr>
-<tr> <td>In Brussels</td> <td>Roman Catholic</td> <td>thirty-five per cent</td> </tr>
-<tr> <td>In Munich</td> <td>Roman Catholic</td> <td>forty-eight per cent</td> </tr>
-<tr> <td>In Vienna</td> <td>Roman Catholic</td> <td>fifty-one per cent</td> </tr>
-<tr> <td>In London</td> <td>Protestant</td> <td>four per cent</td> </tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-and then, to show that this fearful disproportion exists not only
-in the capital cities, but also in other smaller ones, we have
-another table:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-
-<table>
-<tr> <td>Protestant England.</td><td> </td><td> </td><td>R. C. Austria</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Bristol and
-    Clifton</td>	    <td>4 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Troppau</td>	<td>26 per ct.</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Bradford</td>	<td>8 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Zara</td>	    <td>30 per ct.</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Birmingham</td><td>6 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Innspruck</td>	<td>22 per ct.</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Brighton</td>	<td>7 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Laybach</td>	<td>38 per ct.</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Cheltenham</td><td>7 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Brunn</td>	    <td>42 per ct.</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Exeter</td>	<td>8 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Linz</td>	    <td>46 per ct.</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Liverpool</td>	<td>6 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Prague</td>	    <td>47 per ct.</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Manchester</td><td>7 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Lemberg</td>	<td>47 per ct.</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Plymouth</td>	<td>5 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Klagenfort</td>	<td>56 per ct.</td></tr>
-<tr> <td>Portsea</td>	<td>5 per ct.</td><td> </td>	<td>Gratz</td>	    <td>65 per ct.</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-The inference from these figures, drawn with many exclamations of
-surprise and horror, is, that the Protestant religion is ten
-times as powerful against crime and vice as the Catholic, and to
-create an overwhelming conviction of the essential corruption of
-the latter. Nothing is further from the truth. London, Liverpool,
-Birmingham, etc., are as corrupt as any cities of the world. The
-cities of France and Austria need not fear the comparison, and
-the more thoroughly it is made the better.
-</p>
-<p>
-J. D. Chambers, Recorder of Salisbury, a Protestant, says:
-[Footnote 27]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 27: <i>Church and World</i>, 1867.]
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "And here a few words on the unhappy reason why London and
-  other large towns of Great Britain and also Holland are
-  comparatively moral in this respect, and that in their cases
-  the average of this species of immorality is far below that of
-  the great cities of the continent; the fact that in this
-  respect the urban population of Great Britain appears to be
-  what it most certainly is not, comparatively pure, the rural
-  the most corrupt; whilst on the continent the reverse is
-  evident. There can be no doubt, as Mr. Lumley, in his able
-  <i>Poor-Law Reports</i>, has often hinted, that this difference
-  is owing to the prevalence of what has been justly called the
-  'social evil;' to the license, it may, in truth, be called
-  encouragement, which, in the populous districts of this
-  country, and notoriously in Holland, is given to public
-  prostitution. Of course there will be no illegitimacy among
-  Mohammedans and Hindoos, in Japan and China, or the African
-  tribes, nor also among those who live much in the same manner."
-  And, we might add, who practise infanticide and foeticide as
-  they do. He goes on, "In London, the fallen women may be taken,
-  at the mean of the estimates, at 40,000. &hellip; In Birmingham, in
-  1864, there were 966 disreputable houses where they resorted;
-  in Manchester, 1111; in Liverpool, 1578; in Leeds, 313; in
-  Sheffield, 433. [Footnote 28] And here we have revealed a
-  plague-spot in English society which runs through every grade,
-  especially the artisan, manufacturing, and lower commercial
-  classes, who, as we have seen, in general never enter a church.
-  &hellip; There is no need, in addition, to dwell on the revelations
-  of the divorce court, which prove that Englishmen are nearly as
-  bad in this respect as the northern Germans. There is no one
-  who is acquainted with the condition of the families of
-  artisans who does not know the sad frequency with which they
-  abandon their wives, and how frequently they live in a state of
-  concubinage."
-</p>
-<p>
-Alison corroborates this: "In London the proportion (of
-illegitimacy) is one to thirty-six, the effect, it is to be
-feared, of the immense mass of concubinage which there prevails,
-under circumstances where a law of nature renders an increase of
-the population from that source impossible." [Footnote 29]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 28: <i>Statistical Journal</i>, 1864.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 29: Vol. ii. chap. xvii. 122.]
-</p>
-
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57">{57}</a></span>
-<p>
-"In London, however, and the English cities, there are more
-illegitimate births than appear on the registers, because
-children of people who live together without being married are
-registered 'legitimate.'" [Footnote 30] So much for London,
-Liverpool, etc.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [Footnote 30: <i>Statistical Journal</i>, 1862.]
-</p>
-<p>
-In Paris, a great proportion of the children reckoned
-illegitimate are born in the lying-in hospitals, or brought to
-the foundling hospitals, and the greater proportion of the
-mothers are from the provinces, as will be seen from the
-following table for 1856:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>Mothers known</td>	    <td>3383</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Department Seine</td>	<td>551</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Other departments</td>	<td>2550</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Foreign countries</td>	<td>282</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-Children born in concubinage are reckoned illegitimate, and about
-one-ninth of such children, on an average, are afterward
-legitimated. The proportion of illegitimacy, then, for Paris
-proper, on the best calculations, is not over 12 per cent; and
-that of London, calculated on the same data, would probably be
-quite as large, if not larger.
-</p>
-<p>
-The same considerations apply to Brussels, Vienna, and Munich.
-Large foundling and lying-in hospitals exist in al these places,
-and are resorted to by all the country round. The figures for
-these cities are in no sense a criterion of their morals.
-</p>
-<p>
-In Munich and Vienna, there is another important thing to be
-taken into account, which we shall explain when we come to speak
-of countries. We see, then, how much value is to be attributed to
-the heavenly purity of Protestant London, Liverpool, etc., in
-comparison to the "astonishing," "horrible" corruption of
-Catholic capitals on the continent. Moreover, in the latter the
-"social evil" is kept within strictest limits, and under the
-complete control of the government, and is not allowed to flaunt
-itself in public, as in London and New York, These considerations
-are strengthened by the case of Protestant Stockholm, where,
-public prostitution being prohibited, the rate of illegitimacy is
-over fifty to the hundred&mdash;quite equal to that of Vienna.
-[Footnote 31] Why did not Mr. Seymour cite Stockholm, which is
-notorious? I will answer: It was not convenient to spoil a good
-story.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 31: <i>Appleton's Cyc.</i>, art. "Foundling
-    Hospital."]
-</p>
-<p>
-Now as to the smaller cities of Austria, which, according to
-Seymour, beat the world for corruption, what is to be said?
-Simply, that they are no worse than their neighbors. What we have
-said of the foundling and lying-in hospitals of Paris explains
-the whole matter. "In Austria, excluding Hungary, there are forty
-foundling and forty lying-in hospitals, and the number of
-foundlings provided for by the government is over 20,000."
-[Footnote 32]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 32: <i>Ibid</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-These hospitals exist, without doubt, in all these cities; and if
-we subtract their inmates who come from the country we should
-find that they do not compare unfavorably with their neighbors.
-They include the chief cities of the German provinces of the
-empire; and allowing only 4273 foundlings from the country to be
-in their hospitals, which is certainly a very moderate
-calculation, their own proper rate of illegitimacy would not
-exceed ten per cent. This would be the case in Innspruck, for
-example, if 53 only were received. Our "model of fairness" from
-such data draws his main conclusions, which prove that he is very
-"sprightly" at the figures, if nothing else. Shall we excuse him
-on the plea of ignorance? No! he was bound to verify his
-statements, and the conclusions from them; and if he had chosen
-to take the pains, the sources of information were open to him.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58">{58}</a></span>
-An infamous calumny against the Catholic Church is invented by
-somebody, and the whole tribe of popery-haters forthwith swear
-roundly that it is "undoubted," "notorious," etc., and, by dint
-of clamor, force the public to give credit to it.
-</p>
-<p>
-But, seemingly aware that comparing London with cities so
-different in climate, position, language, etc., has rather an
-unfair look, he says he will take cities of two adjoining
-countries of the same race, and gives us the following table:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-
-<table>
-<tr><td><i>Austria, Rom. Cath.</i></td><td></td><td></td><td><i>Prussia, Protestant.</i></td>	</tr>
-<tr><td>Vienna</td>    <td>51%</td><td></td><td>Berlin</td>	        <td>18%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Prague</td>    <td>47%</td><td></td><td>Breslau</td>	    <td>26%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Linz</td>      <td>46%</td><td></td><td>Cologne</td>  	    <td>10%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Milan</td>     <td>32%</td><td></td><td>Konigsberg</td>     <td>28%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Klagenfort</td><td>56%</td><td></td><td>Dantzig</td>	    <td>20%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Gratz</td>     <td>65%</td><td></td><td>Magdeburg</td>	    <td>11%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Lembach</td>   <td>47%</td><td></td><td>Aix la Chapelle</td><td>4%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Laybach</td>   <td>38%</td><td></td><td>Stettin</td>	    <td>13%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Zara</td>      <td>30%</td><td></td><td>Posen</td>	        <td>19%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Brunn</td>     <td>22%</td><td></td><td>Potsdam</td>  	    <td>12%</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-The only thing this table proves is, that in Prussia the two
-Catholic cities of Cologne and Aix la Chapelle are better than
-any of the Protestant ones. They show excellently well in the
-Protestant column; but then the reader who is not well-posted or
-observant might suppose that, being in Protestant Prussia, they
-are Protestant cities. We can hardly suppose Mr. Seymour, who is
-a traveller, to be ignorant of so well known a fact. And how
-comes it that Protestant Prussia makes so poor a show alongside
-of the pure and virtuous cities of Birmingham and Liverpool,
-where there are "so many and varied temptations"?
-</p>
-<p>
-"If, then," he says, "the question of the comparative efficacy of
-Romanism and Protestantism to restrain vice and immorality is to
-be decided by the comparison of Austria and Prussia, we have as a
-basis of a certain judgment this notable fact, that in ten cities
-of Austria we find forty-five illegitimate births in the hundred,
-and in ten cities of Prussia, sixteen only." We have seen what
-this is worth. It seems to us that it would be more satisfactory
-to compare Austria and Prussia at once than to pick out cities
-here and there to suit one's purpose. And this seems to strike
-our author; for he says, "They often assure us that some
-Protestant countries, as Norway, Sweden, Saxony, Hanover, and
-Wurtemberg are as demoralized as Roman Catholic countries. I
-shall not deny the allegation; but if a profound demoralization
-exists in some Protestant countries, that in Catholic countries
-is much worse." Then he goes on in this style to make his
-assertion good:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td><i>Protestant</i></td><td></td>   <td></td><td><i>Catholic</i></td><td></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Norway</td>    <td>10%</td><td></td><td>Styria</td><td>24%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Sweden</td>    <td>7%</td> <td></td><td>Up. & L. Austria</td><td>25%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Saxony</td>    <td>14%</td><td></td><td>Carinthia</td><td>35%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Denmark</td>   <td>10%</td><td></td><td>Salzburg</td><td>22%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Hanover</td>   <td>10%</td><td></td><td>Prov. of Trieste</td><td>23%</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Wurtemberg</td><td>12%</td><td></td><td>Bavaria</td><td>24%</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-Here we have Styria, Upper and Lower Austria, Carinthia,
-Salzburg, Trieste, which are not separate countries at all, but
-simply the German provinces of the Austrian empire, and Bavaria,
-compared with countries so different and wide apart as Norway,
-Sweden, Saxony, Hanover, and Wurtemberg. This is tricky in the
-extreme. Moreover, there is no reliance to be placed on the
-figures which express their rate of illegitimacy, for a very good
-reason. Marriage is forbidden to great numbers in German Austria
-and Bavaria. "No person in Austria can marry if he does not know
-how to read, write, and cipher." [Footnote 33] Besides, in both
-countries, a man, before being permitted to marry, had to possess
-a sum of money quite out of reach of a great many. <i>Appleton's
-Cyclopaedia</i> [Footnote 34] says, "In some German states the
-obstacles to legal marriage are so great that numbers of people
-prefer to live together in what would be perfectly legal wedlock
-in Scotland and America, but is only concubinage by the local
-laws of the state."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 33: <i>Alison</i>, vol. iii. chap, xxvii. 9.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 34: Article Europe.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59">{59}</a></span>
-<p>
-They marry, but the state will not recognize the children as
-legitimate, and the official registers are no criterion of the
-real state of the case. Mr. J. D. Chambers says, [Footnote 35]
-"In Bavaria, moreover, where the population is one-third
-Protestant, there exists an atrocious state of law which forbids
-marriage unless the contracting parties satisfy the authorities
-that they are capable of maintaining a family without extraneous
-aid. This, of course, leads to many secret marriages and illicit
-connections, so that this country ought to be excepted from the
-average."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 35: <i>Church and World</i>, 1867.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The Bavarians are as good a people as any in Germany, and it is a
-shame to libel them. If countries are to be compared&mdash;and it is
-the only fair and honest way to proceed&mdash;why not compare them in
-a straightforward, obvious way&mdash;France and England, Prussia and
-Austria&mdash;in fact, all the countries we can get the statistics of,
-and show the result in a tabular form, so that we can understand
-the <i>whole</i> thing at a glance? This would effectually put a
-stop to the cry of the vice of Catholic countries, which the
-<i>Chicago Press</i>, of January 11th, declares to be "notorious
-throughout the country." It is "notorious," because statements
-like Seymour's, cooked up for a purpose, give rise to utterly
-false conclusions, which are easily caught up and trumpeted,
-through the pulpit and the press, all over the country.
-</p>
-<p>
-We shall now, leaving out Bavaria, for the reasons above given,
-give the latest and best statistics, in respect to illegitimate
-births, which it is possible to get. They are taken from the
-journals of the Statistical Society of London of the years 1860,
-1862, 1865, 1867, the principal portions being compiled by Mr.
-Lumley, Honorary Secretary of the society, and contained in that
-of 1862, to be seen in the Astor Library. It will be interesting
-to the general reader, apart from its controversial bearings.
-</p>
-<p>
-In Prussia, we have statistics according to the religious creed
-of the people. We shall, therefore, divide it into Catholic and
-Protestant. We wish the same could be done for Holland and
-Switzerland. Where there is a large minority differing from the
-majority, it would be most interesting; but it cannot be done
-except in Prussia. The number of illegitimate births in the
-hundred is as follows, according to the latest accounts given:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td></td><td><i>Catholic Countries.</i></td><td></td></tr>
-<tr><td>1828-37</td><td>Kingdom of Sardinia</td><td>2.1</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1859</td>   <td>Spain</td>              <td>5.6</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1853</td>   <td>Tuscany</td>            <td>6.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1858</td>   <td>Catholic Prussia</td>   <td>6.1</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1859</td>   <td>Belgium</td>            <td>7.4</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1856</td><td>Sicily</td>                <td>7.4</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1858</td><td>France</td>                <td>7.8</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1851</td><td>Austria</td>               <td>9.</td></tr>
-<tr><td></td><td><i>Protestant Countries.</i></td><td></td></tr>
-<tr><td>1859</td><td>England and Wales</td>    <td>6.5</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1855</td><td>Norway</td>               <td>9.3</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1858</td><td>Protestant Prussia</td>   <td>9.3</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1855</td><td>Sweden</td>               <td>9.5</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1855</td><td>Hanover</td>              <td>9.9</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1866</td><td>Scotland</td>             <td>10.1</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1855</td><td>Denmark</td>              <td>11.5</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1838-47</td><td>Iceland</td>           <td>14.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1858</td><td>Saxony</td>               <td>16.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1857</td><td>Wurtemberg</td>           <td>16.1</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-Mixed countries, where the Catholic population approaches the
-half:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>1859</td><td>Holland</td>    <td>4.1</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1852</td><td>Switzerland</td><td>6.</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-Lest we be deemed to wish to conceal the depravity of Ireland, we
-give what is given by Mr. J. D. Chambers, [Footnote 36] who
-probably has access to the registrar's reports, which, of course,
-we have not:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>1865-66</td><td>Catholic Ireland,</td><td>3</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-and these, we remark, are <i>mostly in the north</i>, which is
-Protestant.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-   [Footnote 36: <i>Church and World</i>, 1867.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60">{60}</a></span>
-<p>
-The particulars of the statistics throw a good deal of light on
-the morality of the different countries, for instance, in France
-and England. The rate of illegitimacy in all
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>England and Wales is</td><td>6.5</td></tr>
-<tr><td>London only</td>         <td>4.2</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Birmingham</td>          <td>4.7</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Liverpool</td>           <td>4.9</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-In spite of the "numerous and varied temptations" of the large
-towns, the rate is much less in them than in the country, which
-runs after this fashion:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>Nottingham</td>     <td>8.9</td></tr>
-<tr><td>York, N. Riding</td><td>8.9</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Salop</td>          <td>9.8</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Westmoreland</td>   <td>9.7</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Norfolk</td>        <td>10.7</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Cumberland</td>     <td>11.4</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-In France, it is just the other way. The rate is,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>In all France</td>             <td>7.8</td></tr>
-<tr><td>In Paris</td>                  <td>27.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Urban districts</td>           <td>12.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Rural districts</td>           <td>4.2</td></tr>
-<tr><td>La Vendée</td>                 <td>2.2</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Brittany, Dep't. Cote D'Or</td><td>1.2</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-Brittany and La Vendee remained Catholic through the storm of the
-French Revolution, and at this moment are thoroughly so. In
-Austria, the rate is: whole empire, only 9; urban districts, from
-25 to 65; therefore, rural districts cannot be more than 5 or 6.
-</p>
-<p>
-Prussia gives us, perhaps, the most conclusive test of the
-effects of religion on morals; for the census has been carefully
-taken according to creed, for many years, with uniform result
-thus. There are over 11,000,000 Protestants, and over 7,000,000
-Catholics, principally in the Rhine provinces, Westphalia, and
-Posen. [Footnote 37] The rate
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>Among Catholics</td><td>6.48</td><td></td><td>Among Protestants</td><td>10.0</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Westphalia</td>     <td>3.7</td><td></td> <td>Prov. of Prussia</td><td>6.7</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Rhineland</td>      <td>3.7</td><td></td> <td>Pomerania</td><td>10.3</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Posen</td>          <td>6.8</td><td></td> <td>Brandenburg</td><td>12.0</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 37: <i>Historische Blätter</i>, 9th Heft, 1867.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Rev. T. W. Woolsey, of Yale College, New Haven, bears testimony
-to this relative state of morals in regard to the kindred subject
-of divorce, in an address before the Western Social Science
-Convention, at Chicago, as follows: "We have made some
-comparisons between the frequency of divorce in this country and
-in other parts of Protestantism. Prussia had the reputation of
-having the lowest system of divorce laws anywhere to be found.
-But the ratio there of annual divorces to annual marriages in
-1855 was, among non-Catholics, one to twenty-nine, or about 3.5
-per cent less than in Vermont or Ohio, and far less than in
-Connecticut, where it is 9.6 per cent. The greatest ratio nearly
-thirty years ago in the judicial districts of Prussia was 57
-divorces to 100,000 inhabitants; the least, 16 to 100,000: nay
-more, in the Prussian Rhenish provinces, where the law is based
-on the Code Napoleon, and where the Catholic inhabitants, being
-numerous, must have some influence on the social habits of
-Protestants, there were but four fair divorces to 100,000
-Protestants, or twenty-four in all among 600,000 of that class of
-inhabitants. I write this in pain, being a Protestant, if, as the
-Apostle Paul says, 'I may provoke to emulation them which are my
-flesh, and might save some of them.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-Scotland might be supposed by our Protestant friends to be high
-up on the list, having always been so completely under the
-influence of the pure gospel of Calvin and Knox; but the rate for
-Scotland is 10.1.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the Lowlands, where Presbyterianism carried all before it, the
-rate is from 10 to 15. In the Highlands, which remained to a
-considerable extent Catholic, the average is 5.6.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61">{61}</a></span>
-<p>
-Supposing the immorality of the large cities, Protestant and
-Catholic, to be the same, though it is pretty sure the Catholic
-are much the best, and confining our comparison to the mass of
-the rural population, which is the fairer test, and the countries
-would stand in the following order, beginning with the most
-favorable:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>Sardinia</td>          <td>Catholic</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Ireland</td>           <td>Catholic</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Holland</td>           <td>Mixed</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Spain</td>             <td>Catholic</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Switzerland</td>       <td>Mixed</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Tuscany</td>           <td>Catholic</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Catholic Prussia</td>  <td>Catholic</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Belgium</td>           <td>Catholic</td></tr>
-<tr><td>France</td>            <td>Catholic</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Sicily</td>            <td>Catholic</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Austria</td>           <td>Catholic</td></tr>
-<tr><td>England</td>           <td>Protestant</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Norway</td>            <td>Protestant</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Protestant Prussia</td><td>Protestant</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Scotland</td>          <td>Protestant</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Denmark</td>           <td>Protestant</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Sweden</td>            <td>Protestant</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Hanover</td>           <td>Protestant</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Iceland</td>           <td>Protestant</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Saxony</td>            <td>Protestant</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Wurtemberg</td>        <td>Protestant</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-Thus, to sum up, the Catholic countries of Europe, perhaps
-without an exception, are above the Protestant, if the number of
-illegitimate births is accepted as a criterion of morality. Could
-we get the statistics of infanticide, and of a still more common
-and destructive crime, foeticide, and add them to the above, then
-we could form a more just idea of the benefit the Catholic
-religion, with her divine ordinance of Confession, has conferred
-on the human race. But of course it is impossible to determine
-with exactness the amount of this crime which hides itself in
-profound darkness; we can only conjecture from sure indications
-that it is one of fearful magnitude.
-</p>
-<p>
-We need not go abroad; the evidence is at our own door. Take the
-State of Rhode Island as a specimen. The number of children
-annually receiving Catholic baptism exceeds the half of all the
-children born in the State, although the Catholic population does
-not exceed the third part; in other words, there are two
-Protestants to every Catholic, and yet there are more Catholic
-children born than Protestant. Illegitimacy is almost unknown
-among Catholics, and the birthrate is at least 1 to 25, which
-demonstrates that criminal abortion cannot exist to any extent
-worth speaking of. The birth-rate among Protestants is i to over
-50. What becomes of the children who ought to be born? Let Dr.
-Storer speak: [Footnote 38] "Hardly a newspaper throughout the
-land that does not contain their open and pointed advertisements.
-&hellip; The profits that must be made from the sale of the drugs
-supposed abortifacient, may be judged from the extent to which
-they are advertised and the prices willingly paid for them." "We
-are compelled to admit that Christianity itself, or, at least,
-Protestantism, has failed to check the increase of criminal
-abortion." [Footnote 39] To the same effect we have a writer in
-Harper's very anti-popery Magazine: "We are shocked at the
-destruction of human life upon the banks of the Ganges, as well
-as on the shores of the South Sea Islands; but here in the heart
-of Christendom, foeticide and infanticide are extensively
-practised under the most aggravating circumstances. &hellip; It should
-be stated that believers in the Roman Catholic faith never resort
-to any such practices; the strictly Americans are almost alone
-guilty of such crimes." And Bishop Coxe, of the Protestant
-Episcopal Church, has published to his people the following: "I
-have hitherto warned my flock against the blood-guiltiness of
-ante-natal infanticide. If any doubts existed heretofore as to
-the propriety of my warnings on the subject, they must now
-disappear before the fact that the world itself is beginning to
-be horrified by the practical results of the sacrifices to Moloch
-which defile our land."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 38: <i>Criminal Abortion</i>, p. 55.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 39: Page 69.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62">{62}</a></span>
-<p>
-How is it with Protestant England? Dr. Lankester, one of the
-coroners of London, declares that there are 12,000 mothers in
-London alone, guilty of infanticide. [Footnote 40] In Prussia,
-Mr. J. Laing says that, "Chastity, the index virtue of the moral
-condition of the people, is lower than in almost any part of
-Europe." [Footnote 41] Let us look at home. Our attention has
-been so diverted to the <i>vice and immorality</i> of our
-Catholic neighbors, that we have begun to imagine ourselves the
-most moral, the most virtuous, the most enlightened people on the
-face of the earth, while, in reality, we are fast getting to be
-the most corrupt and abominable. It would be well to call to mind
-a little oftener the saying of our Lord, "First pull the beam out
-of thine own eye, and then thou shalt see clearly to pull the
-mote out of thy brother's eye."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 40: <i>Church and World</i>, 1866, p. 57.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 41: <i>Spald. Miscell</i>. p. 484.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We have thus exposed the untrustworthiness of Mr Seymour's
-<i>Nights among the Romanists</i>. With the evidence before him,
-he has kept back any honest and fair statement of it, and only
-put forward such portion as would serve to substantiate an
-utterly false conclusion, most injurious to us Catholics, both
-religiously and personally; for we cannot be looked upon in the
-mass as corrupt and vicious, without a great deal of personal
-ill-will and contempt and hatred being engendered.
-</p>
-<p>
-We call the attention of the Rev. Mr. Bacon to this. He has taken
-a noble stand against base and unfair practices in the
-controversy with the Catholic Church, and we hope he will
-persevere in spite of the opposition he has raised against
-himself. We feel inclined to forgive him for some sins of his
-own, in this respect; for example, in speaking of the "Tax-Book
-of Roman Chancery," when Bishop England has so clearly shown it
-to be a base forgery. We hope our exposure of Mr. Seymour will be
-met in a generous and Christian spirit, and that he will promptly
-disavow all connection with him as an <i>amende honorable</i> for
-having recommended him.
-</p>
-<p>
-We see, by <i>The Christian World</i> of September, that the
-American and Foreign Christian Union are going to reissue this
-book, and we hope these "eminent and excellent" men, now that
-their attention is called to it, will clean this out with the
-rest of the filth of their Augean stable. And also the directors
-of the American Tract Society are requested to consider seriously
-whether defamation is exactly the most Christian weapon to fight
-with, or the one most likely in the long run to overcome the
-Catholic Church, and whether they should not withdraw from
-circulation a book so damaging to their reputation as lights of
-the pure Protestant Gospel, shining amongst the darkness and
-moral corruptions of Popery.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63">{63}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-      <h2>Heremore-Brandon; Or,<br>
-    The Fortunes Of A Newsboy.</h2>
-
-<br>
-         <h3>Chapter VIII.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-As might have ben supposed, Dick was at Mr. Brandon's office long
-before that gentleman made his appearance down-town. It was a
-sultry morning, with occasional snatches of rain to make the
-gloomy streets more gloomy, and the depressing atmosphere more
-depressing. Mr. Brandon was sensitive to heat; he had no cool
-summer retreat to go to in the evenings, and return from with a
-rose in his button-hole in the mornings; and as, instead of being
-grateful for the many years in which he had enjoyed this luxury,
-he was disposed to consider himself decidedly ill-used in not
-having it still, so soon as he found Dick waiting for him, he
-began his repinings in the most querulous of all his tones:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Pretty hard on a man who has had his own country-place, and been
-his own lord and master, to come down to this blistering old hole
-every morning, isn't it, Mr. Heremore? Well, well, some people
-have no feeling! There are those old nabobs who were hand and
-glove with me, mighty glad of a dinner with me, and where are
-they now? Do they come around with '<i>How are you, Brandon?</i>'
-and invitations to <i>their</i> dinners? Indeed not!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mr. Brandon, I have come to talk to you about some business,"
-began Dick, who had prepared a dozen introductions, all forgotten
-at the needed moment; then abruptly, "Mr. Brandon, did you ever
-hear my name, the name of <i>Heremore</i> before?"
-</p>
-<p>
-It would be false to say that Mr. Brandon showed any emotion
-beyond that of natural surprise at the abruptness of the
-question; but it is safe to add that the surprise was very great,
-almost exaggerated. He replied, coolly enough, as he hung up his
-hat and sat down, wiping his face with his handkerchief:
-"Heremore? It is not, so to say, a common name; and I may or may
-not have heard it before. One who has been in the world so long
-as I have, Mr. Heremore, can hardly be expected to know what
-names he has or has not heard in the course of his life. I
-suppose you ask for some especial reason."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do," said Dick, a little staggered by the other's
-unembarrassed reply, "Did you not once know a gentleman in
-Wiltshire, called Dr. Heremore?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"This is close questioning from a young man in your position to
-an old gentleman in mine, and I am slightly curious to know your
-object in asking before I reply."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I believe you were married twice, Mr. Brandon, and that your
-first wife's maiden name was Heremore?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well&mdash;and then?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"And that she died while you were away, believing you were dead;
-and and that she had two children," said Dick, who began to feel
-uneasy under the steady, smiling gaze of the other&mdash;"and that
-she had two children, a son and a daughter."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Almost any one can tell you that my family consists of my first
-wife's daughter, and two sons by my second wife. But that's of no
-consequence. Two children, a son and a daughter, you were
-saying."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, two; although you may have been able to trace only one. She
-died in great poverty, did she not?"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64">{64}</a></span>
-<p>
-"I decline answering any questions, I am highly
-flattered&mdash;charmed, indeed&mdash;at the interest you show in my
-family by these remarks; and I can only regret that my fortunes
-are now so low that I know of no way in which to prove my
-grateful appreciation of the manner in which you must have
-labored in order to know so much. In happier times, I might have
-secured you a place in the police department; but unfortunately,
-I am a ruined man, unable to assist any one at present."
-</p>
-<p>
-At this speech, which was delivered in the most languid manner,
-and in a tone that was infinitely more insulting than the words,
-Dick was on the point of thrusting his mother's letter before the
-man's eyes, to show by what means he had obtained his knowledge;
-but the cool words, the indifferent manner, had a great effect
-upon our hero, who found it every moment more difficult to
-believe in the theory that from the first had seemed so likely to
-be the real one, and so he answered respectfully:
-</p>
-<p>
-"I assure you, I mean no rudeness to you, Mr. Brandon; but I am
-engaged in the most serious business in the world, for me. I may
-be mistaken in you, and shall not know how to atone for the
-mistake, should I come to know it; but I hope you will be sure of
-my respectful intention, however I may err."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Brandon bowed, smiled, and played with his pen, as if the
-conversation were drawing to a close. Dick, heated and more
-embarrassed than ever, was obliged to recommence it.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But was not your first wife's name Heremore? I beg you to answer
-me this one question, for all depends upon it."
-</p>
-<p>
-"A very sufficient reason why I should not answer it. But as you
-to have something very interesting to disclose, perhaps we had
-better imagine that her name was Heremore before it was Brandon.
-Permit me to ask if, in that case, I am to own a relation in you?
-I certainly cannot make such a connection as advantageous as I
-could a year or so ago; but though I cannot prove the rich uncle
-of the romances, I shall be glad to know what scion of my wife's
-noble house I have the honor of addressing."
-</p>
-<p>
-It seems easy to have answered "<i>your son</i>" but the words
-would not come. More and more the whole thing seemed a dream.
-What! a man so hardened that he could sit before his own son,
-whom by this time he must have known to be his son, and talk
-after this fashion of his dead wife's house! Impossible! If,
-then, he should tell his tale, and tell it to an unconcerned
-listener, what a sacrilege he would commit!
-</p>
-<p>
-"A very near relative," Dick said at last. "I know that Dr.
-Heremore's daughter married a Charles Brandon about twenty-five
-years ago."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! I see! And you thought there was but one Charles Brandon in
-in the world! You see I shall have to learn a lesson in
-politeness from you; for I could conceive that there should be
-room in this world even two Richard Heremores."
-</p>
-<p>
-Poor Dick was silenced for the moment. He knew he was taking up
-Mr. Brandon's time, and so the time of his employer. He walked up
-and down the little office and thought it all over. Certain
-passages in his mother's letter came to his mind. In this way,
-perhaps, had her appeals been sneered at in the olden times!
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mr. Brandon," he said, standing in front of his tormentor, his
-whole appearance changed from that of the hesitating, embarrassed
-boy to the resolute, high-spirited man&mdash;
-"Mr. Brandon, there has been enough trifling.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65">{65}</a></span>
-I insist upon knowing if you were or were not the husband of Miss
-Heremore. If you were not, it is a very simple thing to say so.
-There are plenty of ways by which I can make myself certain of
-the fact without your assistance; but out of consideration for
-you, I came to you first."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am deeply grateful," with a mock ceremonious bow.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But if you persist in this way of treating me, I shall have to
-go elsewhere."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And then?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Heaven knows I do not ask anything of you, beyond the
-information I came to seek. I wondered yesterday why she should
-have given me her father's name instead of mine; now I can
-understand it. I had doubts while first speaking to you, but now
-they are gone. I believe it is so. If you will not tell me as
-much as you know of Dr. Heremore, I can go to his old home for
-it. It would have saved me time and expense if you had answered
-my questions; but as you please."
-</p>
-<p>
-He was clearly in earnest. Mr. Brandon saw it, and stopped him at
-the door.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My wife's name <i>was</i> Heremore," he said very indifferently,
-"and her father has been dead these twenty years. You have your
-answer. Permit me to ask what you mean to do about it?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Dr. Heremore was my grandfather," said Dick, coming back and
-sitting down.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! indeed!" politely; "he was a very excellent old gentleman in
-his way; it is much to be regretted that he and you should have
-been unable to make each other's acquaintance."
-</p>
-<p>
-"When my mother&mdash;your first wife&mdash;died, you knew she left two
-children."
-</p>
-<p>
-"One&mdash;a daughter. I think you have met her."
-</p>
-<p>
-"There were two. I was the other."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are you quite sure?" asked Mr. Brandon in the same languid
-tones; but, for the first time, it seemed to Dick that they
-faltered.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am quite sure. You would know her writing."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Possibly. It was a great while ago, and my eyes are not as good
-as they were."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You would recognize her portrait?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"If one I had seen before, I might."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I should say this was a portrait of the first Mrs. Brandon," he
-said, taking that which Dick handed him and, looking at it, not
-without some signs of embarrassment, "or of someone very like
-her. And this is not unlike her writing, as I remember it. Oh!
-you wish me to read this?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Dick signed assent, watching him while he read. Whatever Mr.
-Brandon felt while reading that letter, he kept it all in his own
-heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-"This is all?" he asked when he had read and deliberately
-refolded it.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is all at present," answered Dick.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then Mr. Brandon arose, handed the paper back, and said very
-quietly but deliberately:
-</p>
-<p>
-"My first wife is dead and gone; her daughter lives with me, and,
-as long as I had the means, received every luxury she could
-desire. The past is past, and I do not wish it revived.
-Understand me. I do not wish it revived. I want to hear nothing
-more, not a word more, on this subject. If I were rich as I once
-was, I could understand why you should persist in this thing. I
-am not yet so poor that the law cannot protect me from any
-further persecution about the matter. Your mother, you say, named
-you for your grandfather, not for me.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66">{66}</a></span>
-If you wish paternal advice&mdash;all that my poverty would enable me
-to give, however I were disposed&mdash;I advise you to go for it to
-her father, for whom she showed her judgment in naming you. Good
-morning."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You cannot mean this! You must have known me as a child, and
-known my name before, long, long ago, and surely consented to it,
-or she would not have so named me. Of course, it was by some
-mistake the Brandon was dropped at first, not by her, but by
-those who took care of me when she died; she could never have
-meant such a thing; it was undoubtedly an accident. You cannot
-mean to end all here&mdash;that I am not to know, to see, my sister!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I tell you I wish to hear not another word of this matter; do
-you hear me? Have I not troubles enough now without your coming
-to bring up the hateful past? You shall not add to your sister's,
-whatever you may do to mine."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I insist upon seeing her."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You shall not. I positively forbid you to go near her. Now leave
-me! I have borne enough."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But I cannot let the matter rest here; you know I cannot. The
-idea of it is absurd! If you do not wish me for a son, I have no
-desire to force myself upon you. I do not know why you should
-refuse to own me; I am not conscious of any cause I have given
-you to so dislike me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I don't dislike you, nor do I like you particularly; I have no
-ill-feeling against you, but I don't want this old matter dragged
-up. I am not strong enough to bear persecution now."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But I do not want to persecute you. I want&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, what <i>do</i> you want?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I hardly know. I may have had an idea that you would welcome
-your oldest child after so many years of loss, however unworthy
-of you he might be. I may have thought that if you once were not
-all you should have been to one who, likely, was at one time very
-dear to you, it might be a satisfaction to you, even at this late
-day, to retrieve&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You thought wrong, and it is not worth while wasting words on the
-matter. I have got over all that, and don't want it revived. I
-can't put you out, but I beg you to go; or, if you persist in
-forcing your words upon me, pray choose some other subject."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I will go, since you so heartily desire it; but I warn you that
-I will not give up seeing Miss&mdash;my sister."
-</p>
-<p>
-"As you please. You will get as little satisfaction there, I
-fancy; though it may not be quite as annoying to her as to me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I shall try, at all events."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Try. Go to her; say anything to her; make any arrangement with
-her you choose; take her away altogether. I don't care a button
-what you do, so you only leave me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I will leave you willingly, and am indeed sorry to have put you
-to so much pain."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not a word, I pray you," answered Mr. Brandon, now polite and
-smiling. "You have performed a disagreeable duty in the least
-disagreeable way you could, I do not doubt. All I ask is, never
-to hear it mentioned again."
-</p>
-<p>
-Dick stayed for no more ceremony. Glad to be released from such
-an atmosphere of selfishness and cowardice, he hardly waited for
-the answer to his good-morning before turning to the street.
-</p>
-<p>
-In less than an hour he was in the dreary room, with
-<i>boarding-house</i> stamped all over its walls, saying
-good-morning to a stately young lady, very pale and
-weary-looking, who kindly rose to receive him.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67">{67}</a></span>
-The little room was hot and close; there were no shutters to the
-windows; the shades were too narrow at the sides; besides being
-so unevenly put up that the eyes ached every time one turned
-toward them, and the gleaming light was almost worse than the
-heat.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have been trying for the dozenth time to straighten them,"
-said Mary, drawing one down somewhat lower, "but it's of no use."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are they crooked?" asked Dick innocently.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, yes, rather," answered Mary, smiling. "I think I never saw
-anything before that was so near the perfection of crooked."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have seen your father this morning," Dick began, taking a
-chair near the table.
-</p>
-<p>
-"There is nothing the matter, I hope?" she questioned nervously.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Nothing that any one but myself need mind. I made some
-discoveries about myself last evening that I would like to tell
-you. Have you time?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have nothing to do. I shall be very glad if my attentive
-listening can do you any service." She moved her chair, in a
-quiet way, a little farther from his, and looked at him in some
-surprise. She saw he was very earnest, excited, and greatly
-embarrassed. She could not help seeing that his eyes were
-anxiously following her every movement, eagerly trying to read
-her face.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am afraid I shall shock you very much, and you are not well; I
-am sorry I came. I thought only of my own eagerness to see you;
-not, until this moment, of the pain I may cause you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do not think of that. I do not think, Mr. Heremore, you are
-likely to say anything that should pain me. I think you too
-sensible&mdash;I mean, too gentlemanly for that."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I hope you really mean that. I am sure I must seem very rude and
-unpolished in your eyes; but I would have been far more so, had
-it not been for you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"For me?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes." And he told her about the Christmas morning in Fourteenth
-Street.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And you remembered that little thing all this time!" Mary
-exclaimed. "And you were once a newsboy!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes; I was once a great, stupid, ragged newsboy. I do not mean
-to deny, to conceal anything. I am so very sorry, for your sake;
-but I hope you will like me in spite of it all. If just those few
-words and that one smile did so much for me, what is there your
-influence may not do?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mr. Heremore, I do not in the least understand you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I don't know where to begin; this has excited me so that I do
-not know what I am saying, and now I wish almost that you might
-never know it; there is such a difference between us that I
-cannot tell how to begin."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is it necessary that you should begin?" asked Mary. "You told me
-you wished to speak to me, of some discoveries you had made in
-regard to yourself. To anything about yourself I will listen with
-interest; but I do not care to have anything said about myself;
-there can be no connection between the two subjects that I can
-see; so pray do not waste words on so poor a subject as myself;
-but tell me the discovery, if you please."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But it concerns you as much as it does me. Do you know much
-about your own mother? She died, you told me, long ago."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know very little about her. I presume her death was a great
-grief to papa; for he has never permitted a word to be said about
-her, and anything that pains papa in that way is never alluded to.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68">{68}</a></span>
-The little I do know I have learned from my old nurse."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You do not remember her?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not in the least; she died when I was a mere baby."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Did you ever see her portrait, or any of her writing, or hear
-her maiden name?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, to all your questions. Does papa know you are here, this
-morning?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes; I went to him at once. At first he was very determined I
-should not see you; but in the end, he seemed glad to get me
-silenced at any price, and I was so anxious to see you that I did
-not wait for very cordial permission."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You did not talk to papa about my mother?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, that is what I went for."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How did you dare to do it? Was he not very angry? I am sure you
-know something about mamma."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, I do. I have her portrait; this is it."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Her portrait! My mamma's portrait! O what a beautiful face! Is
-this really my mamma? Did papa see it? Did he recognize it?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I showed it to him. He did not deny it was hers."
-</p>
-<p>
-"<i>Deny it was hers!</i> What in the world do you mean, Mr.
-Heremore? Where did you get it?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Then Dick, in the best way he could, told the whole story of the
-box, and gave her the letter to read. When Mary came to the part
-which said, "<i>Will you love your sister always, let what may be
-her fate? Remember, always, she had no mother to guide her</i>,"
-she turned her eyes, full of tears, to Dick, saying no words.
-</p>
-<p>
-"She did not know that it would be the other way," Dick replied
-to her look, his own eyes hardly dry. "She would have begged for
-me if she had known that&mdash;" farther than this he could not get.
-Mary put her hands in his, and said earnestly:
-</p>
-<p>
-"No need for that; her pleading comes just as it should. Will you
-really be my brother&mdash;all wearied, sick, and worn-out as I am?
-Oh! if this had only come two years ago, I could have been
-something to you!"
-</p>
-<p>
-But Dick could not answer a word, He could only keep his eyes
-upon her face; afraid, as it seemed, that it would suddenly prove
-all a dream.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the day wore on and it did not prove less real. The heat and
-the glaring light were forgotten, or not heeded, while the two
-sat together and talked of this strange story, and tried to fill
-up the outlines of their mother's history.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I feel as if our grandpapa were living, or, if not living, there
-must be somebody who knows something about him," she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I think I ought to go and see. Mr. Staffs was very particular in
-urging that."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I think so; even if you learned nothing, it would be a good
-thing for you just to have tried."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know I can get permission to stay away for a few days longer;
-there's nothing doing at this season, Would it take long?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I don't know much about it; not more than two days each way, I
-should think. There is a steamer, too, that goes to Portland, and
-you can find out if Wiltshire is near there. The steamer trip
-would be splendid at this season. Are you a good sailor?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I don't know. You have got a great ignoramus for a brother. I
-have never been half a day's journey from New York in my life."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is that so? Well, you must go to Portland. How you will enjoy
-the strong, bracing sea-breezes; they make one feel a new life!"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69">{69}</a></span>
-<p>
-Then suddenly Dick's face grew very red, but bright, and he said
-eagerly: "Would you trust me&mdash;I mean could your father be
-persuaded&mdash;would you be afraid to go with me?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! I wish I could! I would enjoy it as I never did a journey
-before! Just to see the sea again, and with a brother! I can't
-tell you how I have all my life envied girls with great, grown-up
-brothers. Nobody else is ever like a brother. Fred and Joe are
-younger than I, and have been away so much that they never seemed
-like brothers. A journey with you on such a quest would be
-something never to be forgotten."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It doesn't seem as if such a good thing could come to pass,"
-answered Dick. "I don't know anything about travelling; you would
-have to train me; but if you will bear with me now, I will try
-hard to learn. Do you think your father would listen to the
-idea?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No; he would not listen to ten words about it. He hates to be
-troubled; he would never forgive me if I went into explanations
-about an affair that did not please him; but if I say, 'Papa, I
-am going away for a couple of weeks to New England, unless you
-want me for something,' he will know where I am going, what for,
-and will not mind, so he is not made to talk about it; that is
-his way."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will you really go, then, with me? You know I shall not know how
-to treat you gallantly, like your grand beaux."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! don't put on airs, Mr. Dick; you were not so very humble
-before you knew our relationship. Remember, I have known you
-long."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I wonder what you thought of me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I thought a great deal of good of you; so did papa, so does Mr.
-Ames."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You know Mr. Ames?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! very well indeed; he comes to see us every New Year's day;
-he actually found us out this year, and I got to liking him more
-than ever; he has come quite often since, and we talked of you;
-he says you are a good boy. I am going to be <i>grande dame</i>
-to-day, and have lunch brought up for us two, unless Madame the
-landlady is shocked."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Does that mean I have staid too long?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, indeed. Mrs. Grundy never interferes with people with clear
-consciences, at least in civilized communities; in provincial
-cities, and country towns she will not let you turn around except
-as she pleases; that's the difference. There are no bells in this
-establishment, or, if there are, nobody ever knew one to be
-answered, so I will start on a raid and see what I can discover."
-</p>
-<p>
-In course of time she returned with a servant, who cleared the
-little rickety table, and then disappeared, returning at the end
-of half an hour with a very light lunch for two; but that was not
-her fault, poor thing!
-</p>
-<p>
-Then hour after hour passed and still Dick could not leave her;
-he had gone out and bought a guidebook, which required them to go
-all over the route again, and there was so much of the past life
-of each to be told and wondered at, that it was late in the
-afternoon and Mr. Brandon's hand was on the door before Dick had
-thought of leaving. Of course he must remain to see Mr. Brandon,
-who, however, did not seem any too glad to see him. Nothing was
-said in regard to the matter which had been all day under
-discussion. Mr. Brandon talked of the news of the day, of the
-weather, and the last book he had read, accompanied him to the
-door, and shook hands with him quite cordially, to the surprise
-of the landlady, who was peeping over the banisters in
-expectation of high words between them.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70">{70}</a></span>
-Mr. Brandon even went so far as to speak of him as a very near
-relative, as several of the boarders distinctly heard. Mr.
-Brandon hated to be talked to on disagreeable subjects, but he
-knew the world's ways all the same.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come very early to-morrow morning," Mary said in a low voice as
-they parted, "and I will let you know if I can go."
-</p>
-<p>
-Dick did not forget this parting charge, and early the next
-morning had the happiness of hearing that her father had
-consented to let her go.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Papa isn't as indifferent as he seems," she said. "When it is
-all fixed and settled, he will treat you just as he does the rest
-of us, only he hates a scene and explanations. I suppose he
-<i>was</i> unkind to poor mamma, and now hates to say a word
-about it; but you may be sure he feels it. And now you must take
-everything for granted, come and go just as if you had always
-been at home with us, and he will take it so."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But what will people say?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why, we will tell the truth, only as simply as possible&mdash;as if
-it were an everyday affair&mdash;that papa's first wife died while he
-was away from home, and that when he returned from Paris, where
-he says he was then, the people told him you were dead too. I
-don't know why that old woman should have told such a story."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Nor I, but perhaps, poor, ignorant soul, she thought the boy was
-better under her charge than given over to a 'Protestant,' who
-had acted so like a heathen to the child's mother; but good as
-was her motive, and perhaps her judgment, I hope she did not
-really tell a lie about it, so peace to her soul. Who knows how
-much Dick owes to her pious prayers?"
-</p>
-<p>
-A very proud and happy man was Dick in these days, when he
-journeyed to Maine with his newly-found sister. It is true that
-the change in Mr. Brandon's circumstances did not enable Mary to
-have a new travelling suit for the occasion, and that she was
-obliged to wear a last year's dress; but last year's dress was a
-very elegant one, and almost "as good as new;" for Mary, fine
-lady that she was, had the taste and grace of her station, and
-deft fingers, quick and willing servants of her will, that would
-do honor to any station; so her dress was all <i>à la mode</i>,
-and Dick had reason to be proud of escorting her. She had,
-however, something more than her dress of which to be proud, or
-Dick would not have been so grateful for finding her his sister;
-she had a kind heart, which enabled her always to answer readily
-all who addressed her, to make her constantly cheerful with Dick,
-and to keep everything smooth for the inexperienced traveller,
-who otherwise would have suffered many mortifications; she had,
-too, a womanly dignity, a sense of what was due to and from her,
-not as Miss Brandon, but as a woman, which secured her from any
-incivility and made her always gentle and considerate to every
-one. Dick could never enough delight in the quiet, composed way
-in which she received attentions which she never by a look
-suggested; for the gentle firmness, the self-possession, the
-quiet composure, the perfect courtesy of a refined and cultivated
-woman were new things to him; and to say he loved the very ground
-she walked on would be only a mild way of expressing the feeling
-of his heart toward her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Added to all this, giving to everything else a greater charm,
-Mary's mind was always alive; she had been thoroughly educated,
-and had mingled all her life with intelligent and often
-intellectual people, whose influence had enabled her to seek at
-the proper fountains for entertainment and instruction.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71">{71}</a></span>
-Whatever passed before her eyes, she saw; and whatever she saw,
-she thought about. In her turn, Mary already dearly loved her
-brother; although two years younger than he, she was, as
-generally happens at their age, much more mature, and she could
-see, as if with more experienced eyes, what a true, honest heart,
-what thorough desire to do right, what patience and what spirit,
-too, there was in him, and again and again said to herself, "What
-would he not have been under other circumstances!" But she
-forgot, when saying that, that God knows how to suit the
-circumstances to the character, and that Dick, not having
-neglected his opportunities, had put his talent out to as great
-interest as he could under other influences. There was much that
-had to be broadened in his mind, great worlds of art and
-literature for him to enter; but there was time enough for that
-yet; he had a character formed to truth and earnestness, and had
-proved himself patient and energetic at the proper times. It now
-was time for new and refining influences to be brought to bear;
-it was time for gentleness and courtesy to teach him the value of
-pleasant manners and self-restraint; for the conversation of
-cultivated people to teach him the value of intelligent thoughts
-and suitable words in which to clothe them; for the knowledge of
-other lives and other aims to teach him the value or the mistake
-of his own. These things were unconsciously becoming clearer to
-him every day that he was with his sister, who, I need hardly
-say, never lectured, sermonized, or put essays into quotation
-marks, but whose conversation was simple, refined, and
-intelligent, whatever was its subject. Others greater than Mary
-would come after her when her work was done, we may be sure; but
-at the present time Dick was not in a state to be benefited by
-such.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-      To Be Continued.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72">{72}</a></span>
-
-          <h2>When?</h2>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  Come, gentle April showers,
-  And water my May flowers.
-      The violet&mdash;
-  Blue, white, and yellow streaked with jet&mdash;
-  Thickly in my bed are set;
-      Gay daffodillies,
-  Tulips and St. Joseph's lilies;
-      Bethlehem's star,
-  Gleaming through its leaves afar;
-  Merry crocuses, which quaff
-  Sunshine till they fairly laugh;
-  And that fragrant one so pale,
-  Meekest lily of the vale,
-  All are keeping whist, afraid
-  Of this late snow o'er them laid.
-  Come, then, gentle April showers,
-  And coax out my pretty flowers.
-
-  I am tired of wintry days,
-  Have no longer heart to praise
-  Icicles and banks of snow.
-  When will dandelions blow,
-      And meadow-sweet,
-  And cowslips, dipping their cool feet
-      In little rills
-  Gushing from the mossy hills?
-  I am weary of this weather.
-  Vernal breezes, hasten hither,
-  Bringing in your dappled train,
-  Tearful sunshine, smiling rain,
-  And, to coax out all my flowers,
-  Fall, fall gently, April showers.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73">{73}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-    <h2>Translated From The French Of Le Correspondant.
-<br><br>
-  Influence Of Locality On The Duration Of Human Life.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-In every place there are influences which are favorable or
-unfavorable to the duration of human life. The nature of the
-soil, the atmospheric changes, the variations of the temperature,
-the position of one's abode with respect to the points of the
-compass and its elevation above the level of the sea, act in a
-powerful manner upon the organization.
-</p>
-<p>
-A vast forest is one the grandest, most enchanting and enlivening
-scenes in nature. What an ineffable and touching harmony comes
-from the varieties of foliage, and what a sweet perfume they lend
-to the caressing breeze! What a soothing charm in their cool
-shade, calming the fever of life, purifying the soul from all
-passion, expanding and elevating the mind, and making man realize
-more fully his celestial origin. All men who are endowed with
-superior mental faculties have a natural and powerful inclination
-for solitude&mdash;especially the solitude of a vast forest. The soft
-light of its open spaces, the deep shades, the endless variety of
-tones from the quivering leaves, the pungent sweetness of the
-odors, the air full of vibrations and sparkling light, surround
-and penetrate them. It seems to them a glimpse of a world of
-mystery to which they have drawn near, and which harmonizes
-perfectly with all the thoughts and feelings in which they love
-to indulge.
-</p>
-<p>
-Not only persons capable of reading the divine lessons written on
-space, love to wander in the shades of vast forests, but great
-noble hearts that have been wounded, also find here a balm. The
-soothing melancholy they drink in, the divine presence they feel,
-fill up the void left by some charming illusion that has been
-dispelled. There are special places where the air we breathe, and
-every exterior influence, tend to nourish and develop not only
-physical but intellectual life. A beneficent spirit seems to
-watch over the safety of humanity and to promote its happiness.
-The fluids, the emanations that surround us, penetrate our
-organization and become a part of our being; and in consequence
-of the wonderful sympathy between the body and soul, it is
-evident that they also influence our intellectual faculties.
-</p>
-<p>
-Umbrageous forests are especially favorable to our existence;
-trees are devoted and faithful friends that never reproach us for
-their benefits, and their love is susceptible of no change,
-Plants are for us a real panacea. They are the natural pharmacies
-which Providence has established on earth for the prevention or
-cure of our diseases. From their wood, barks, leaves, flowers,
-and fruits, are exhaled essences which strengthen our organs,
-purify the blood, and neutralize the noxious air around us.
-</p>
-<p>
-The history of all ages shows that those regions which are
-favored with vast forests have always been healthy and propitious
-to man; but where the forests have been cut down, those same
-regions have become marshy and the source of deadly miasmas, The
-marsh fevers which now prevail in certain parts of Asia Minor
-render them uninhabitable.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74">{74}</a></span>
-Nevertheless, ancient authors speak of marshes of small extent,
-but not of marsh fevers, because then the forests still remained.
-</p>
-<p>
-A thousand years ago, La Brenne was covered with woods,
-interspersed with meadows. These meadows were watered by living
-streams. It was then a country famous for the fertility of its
-pastures and the mildness of its climate. Now the forests have
-disappeared. La Brenne is gloomy, marshy, and unhealthy. The same
-could be said of La Dombe, La Bresse, La Sologne, etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-The following is a permanent example exactly to the point. In the
-Pontine marshes, a wood intercepts the current of damp air laden
-with pestilential miasmas, rendering one side of it healthy,
-while the other is filled with its destructive vapors. The places
-where forests have disappeared seem as if inhabited by evil
-genii, who eagerly seek to enter the human frame under the form
-of fevers, cholera, diseases of the lungs and liver, rheumatism,
-etc. For example, it is sufficient to breathe for only a few
-seconds in certain regions of Madagascar, or some of the fatal
-islands near by, for the whole organization to be instantly
-seized with mortal symptoms. The most robust and vigorous young
-man, who goes full of ardor to those shores with the hope of a
-bright future, affected by these miasmas, feels as if dying with
-the venom of the rattlesnake in his veins; and, if he recovers
-from his agony, it is often to drag out in sorrow the small
-remnant of his days. How many unfortunate people of this class
-have I not met during my voyage in the Indian Ocean. What a
-sacrilege to think of destroying these delicious and mysterious
-forests, with their atmosphere full of celestial vibrations, and
-their divine orchestra, where the breeze murmurs in a thousand
-tones the hymn which reveals the Creator to the creature! Every
-sorrow is soothed in the depths of those beneficent shades. There
-the soul, as well as the body, finds a repose which regenerates
-it. The divinity descends; we feel its presence. It moves us to
-the depths of our souls. It caresses us like the breath of the
-mother we adore!
-</p>
-<p>
-Man may live to an advanced age in almost every climate, in the
-torrid as well as the frigid zone; but he cannot everywhere
-attain the utmost limit of human life. The examples of extreme
-longevity are more common in some countries than in others.
-Although, in general, a northern climate may be favorable to long
-life, too great a degree of cold is injurious. In Iceland, in the
-north of Asia&mdash;that is, in Siberia&mdash;man lives, at the longest,
-but sixty or seventy years. The countries where people of the
-most advanced age have been found, of late years, are Sweden,
-Norway, Denmark, and England. Individuals of one hundred and
-thirty, one hundred and forty, and one hundred and fifty years of
-age, have been found there. Ireland shares with England and
-Scotland the reputation of being favorable to the duration of
-life. More than eighty persons above fourscore years of age have
-been found in a single small village of that country, called
-Dumsford. Bacon said that he did not think you could mention a
-single village of that country where there was not to be found at
-least one octogenarian. Examples of longevity are more rare in
-France, in Italy, and especially in Spain. Some cantons of
-Hungary are noted for the advanced age to which their inhabitants
-attain. Germany also has a good many old people, but few who live
-to a remarkable age. Only a small number are to be found in
-Holland. It is seldom that any one reaches the age of one hundred
-in that country.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75">{75}</a></span>
-The climate of Greece, which is as healthy as it is agreeable, is
-considered now, as it formerly was, favorable to longevity. The
-island of Naxos is specially noted in this respect. It was
-generally admitted in Greece that the air of Attica disposed
-those who breathed it to philosophy.
-</p>
-<p>
-Examples of longevity are to be found in Egypt, and in the East
-Indies, principally in the caste of Brahmins and among the
-anchorets and hermits, who, unlike the rest of the inhabitants,
-do not abandon themselves to indolence and excesses of every
-kind.
-</p>
-<p>
-A careful computation of the comparative longevity, in the
-different departments of France, has been made for 1860 and the
-preceding years. The medium annual number of deaths in France, at
-the age of one hundred years and upward, is 148. The following
-fifteen <i>départements</i>, given in decreasing order, are those
-which have the greatest number: Basses-Pyrenees, Dordogne,
-Calvados, Gers, Puy-de-Dôme, Ariége, Aveyron, Gironde, Landes,
-Lot, Ardèche, Cantal, Doubs, Seine, Tarn-et-Garonne. It will be
-seen that a great number of mountainous districts are to be found
-in these departments. It is surprising to see that of <i>la
-Seine</i> on this list. Nevertheless these departments do not
-hold the same rank in respect to the ordinary duration of life;
-which would seem to prove that some examples of extreme longevity
-are not a sufficient index that a country is favorable to long
-life. I give their numbers in order: Basses-Pyrénées, 7;
-Dordogne, 42; Calvados, 2; Gers, 9; Puy-de-Dôme, 30; Ariége, 48;
-Aveyron, 34; Gironde, 18; Landes, 52; Lot, 33; Ardèche, 43;
-Cantal, 23; Doubs, 25; Seine, 53; Tarn-et-Garonne, 13.
-</p>
-<p>
-The fifteen departments in which ordinary life is most prolonged
-are: Orne, Calvados, Eure-et-Loir, Sarthe, Eure, Lot-et-Garonne,
-Deux-Sèvres, Indre-et-Loire, Basses-Pyrenees, Maine-et-Loire,
-Ardennes, Gers, Aube, Hautes-Pyrenees, et Haute-Garonne.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is evident that places need not be very remote from each other
-to produce a different influence on the duration of life.
-</p>
-<p>
-That cold is injurious to the nerves, remarks M. Reveille-Parise,
-is a truth almost as old as the medical art. A low temperature
-produces not only a painful effect upon the skin, but it benumbs
-and paralyzes the nerves of the extremities, and diminishes the
-circulation of the fluids, and this gives rise to all sorts of
-diseases.
-</p>
-<p>
-Men of intellectual pursuits, having an extremely nervous
-susceptibility, are particularly affected by change of
-temperature. It is not surprising, then, to find that the mental
-faculties have attained their utmost degree of perfection in
-certain climates. Choice natures, such as poets and other men of
-genius, only produce the finest fruit under the influence of an
-ardent sun and a pure and brilliant atmosphere. It is only in
-warm and temperate climates that nature and life are most lavish
-of their treasures; there we find genuine creations; elsewhere
-are imitations only, with the exception of the physical sciences,
-which depend on continued observation. It is remarkable that, if
-the men of the North have conquered the South, the opinions of
-the South have always held sway in the North. Besides, fertility
-of the soil and a mild temperature set man free, in southern
-countries, from all present care and all anxiety respecting the
-future, and infuse that blissful serenity of soul so favorable to
-the flights of the imagination. In the misty climate of the
-north, he has to struggle incessantly against the influence of
-the weather, which so greatly diminishes the powers of the mind.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76">{76}</a></span>
-This struggle is almost always a disadvantage to the minds of
-men, who are particularly impressible and often reduced to a
-state of muscular enervation. Cold, dampness, fogs, violent
-winds, sudden changes of temperature, frequent rains, endless
-winters, uncertain summers with their storms and unhealthy
-exhalations, are fearful enemies to an organization which is
-delicate, nervous, irritable, suffering, and exhausted.
-</p>
-<p>
-The state of the atmosphere, then, acts powerfully on the mental
-faculties. There are really days when the mind is not clear. The
-thoughts, sometimes so free and abundant, are suddenly arrested.
-The sources of the imagination are expanded and contracted
-according to the degrees of the barometer and thermometer. The
-different seasons of the year have more influence than may be
-thought, upon the master-pieces of art, upon the affections, the
-events of life and even upon political catastrophes. History
-relates that Chancellor de Cheverny warned President de Thou that
-if the Duke de Guise irritated the mind of Henry III during a
-frost, (which rendered him furious,) the king would have him
-assassinated; and this really happened on the twenty-third of
-December, 1588.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Duchess d'Abrantès says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Napoleon could not endure the least cold without immediate
-  suffering. He had fires made in the month of July, and did not
-  understand why others were not equally affected by the least
-  wind from the northeast. It was Napoleon's nature to love air
-  and exercise. The privation of these two things threw him into
-  a violent condition. The state of the weather could be
-  perceived by the temper he displayed at dinner. If rain or any
-  other cause had prevented him from taking his accustomed walk,
-  he was not only cross but suffering."
-</p>
-<p>
-We read in the Journal of Eugénie de Guerin:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "With the rain, cold winds, wintry skies, the nightingales
-  singing from time to time under the dead leaves, we have a
-  gloomy month of May. I wish my soul were not so much influenced
-  by the state of the atmosphere and variations of the seasons,
-  as to be like a flower that opens or closes with the cold and
-  the sun. It is something I do not understand, but so it is as
-  long as my soul is imprisoned in this frail body."
-</p>
-<p>
-Ask the poets, artists, and men of thought, if a lively feeling
-of energy and of joy, prompting to action and labor; or,
-otherwise, if a certain state languor&mdash;of strange and undefinable
-uneasiness&mdash;does not make them dependent on the state of the
-atmosphere.
-</p>
-<p>
-It may be considered, then, as an established principle, that a
-temperate climate, mild seasons, and pure air constantly, renewed
-constitute not only the highest physical enjoyment but the
-indispensable conditions of health.
-</p>
-<p>
-The physical character of places has a truly astonishing effect
-upon man. A distinguished traveller, M. Trémaux, has endeavored
-to prove, in several <i>mémoires</i> to the Académie des
-Sciences, that man be changed from the Caucasian to the negro
-type simply by this influence. He calls attention to the
-coincidences that exist between the physical types and the
-geological nature of the countries acting especially through
-their products. The least perfect, or rather, the type which is
-farthest removed from our own, belongs to the oldest lands, and,
-in a subsidiary manner, to climates the least favored. The most
-perfect belongs to the countries which, within the smallest
-limits, offer the greatest variety of formations, allowing the
-most recent to predominate, and, in a subsidiary manner, to the
-most favored climates. The type is also influenced by other
-causes of a more secondary nature which are very complex.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77">{77}</a></span>
-<p>
-The geological chart of Europe, says Mr. Trémaux, shows that the
-greatest surface of primitive rock formations is in Lapland,
-which possesses also the most inferior people; going to the south
-of Scandinavia, gneiss and granite occupy also a great part of
-the country, but that region is also connected with others more
-varied. It contains many lakes, and its climate is more favored,
-as well as its inhabitants. As to the Scandinavians of Denmark,
-they have a purely Germanic type and are, in effect, upon the
-same soil.
-</p>
-<p>
-Russia possesses different formations of a medium age, but the
-extended surface of each kind does not permit its people to
-profit by the resources of those adjoining, and, consequently,
-they are but indifferently favored. If we turn to the countries
-which are in the best condition, we distinguish in general all
-the west and south of Europe, and more particularly France,
-Italy, Greece, the eastern part of Spain, and the north-east of
-England. It is here, in truth, that civilization and the
-intellectual faculties have most sway.
-</p>
-<p>
-Race does not change while it remains upon the same soil and
-under the same natural influences; whereas, it is gradually
-modified, according to its new position, when it is removed to
-another place.
-</p>
-<p>
-The physical influences of a region, and of mixture of race, have
-a distinct manner of acting. By cross-breeding, the features are
-at once strongly modified in individuals, but especially
-according to the region in which it takes place. Thus, in Europe,
-the mixed race is more strongly inclined to the type of the white
-man; in Soudan, to that of the negro. A type seems to be more
-readily improved than degenerated. The physical character of a
-place does not act in detail, but in a general manner, beginning
-by modifying the complexion more and more in each generation. It
-acts less quickly upon the hair, and more slowly still upon the
-features. Cross-breeding is considered the principal modifying
-agent only because its effects are at once perceptible, but it
-can explain evident facts only in an imperfect manner.
-</p>
-<p>
-The elevation of a place above the level of the sea has a radical
-influence upon phthisis. With the design of indicating the
-regions and the degrees of elevation within which this malady is
-rare or completely unknown, Dr. Schnepp has made a compilation
-from a series of meteorological observations, made in the
-Pyrenees and at Eaux Bonnes, and from analogous documents
-furnished by travellers who have lived upon the elevated and
-inhabited plateaux of the old and new world.
-</p>
-<p>
-The document on this subject which he sent to the Academy of
-Sciences shows that, in the choice of a healthy locality for
-invalids, people are too exclusively influenced by a warm
-temperature, disregarding the more formal indications of nature
-in distributing the maladies of the human race over the surface
-of the globe. For instance, phthisis exists in the tropical zone.
-In Brazil, it causes one fifth of the cases of mortality; in
-Peru, three tenths, and in the Antilles, from six to seven, in
-every thousand inhabitants. In the East Indies, the greater part
-of the English physicians report, among the causes of death, two
-cases from phthisis to every thousand people. In the temperate
-zones, phthisis is one of the most devastating of diseases. It
-generally attacks from three to four in every thousand
-inhabitants. The three countries in which it was not to be found,
-Algiers, Egypt, and the Russian steppes of Kirghis, have also
-been invaded by it, although in a smaller proportion, In Algeria,
-the deaths from phthisis are, to those from other causes, in the
-proportion of one to every twenty-four or twenty-seven; in Egypt,
-in the proportion of one to eight.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78">{78}</a></span>
-<p>
-This old malady becomes more rare as we approach the higher
-latitudes. It is supposed not to exist at all in Siberia, in
-Iceland, and in the Faroe Islands. Thus, diseases of the lungs
-seem to be more rare in certain cold countries than in warm
-countries. It is also observed that at a certain altitude the
-number of cases greatly diminish, and even completely disappear.
-Brockman testifies that phthisis is rare on the plateaux of the
-Hartz mountains at the height of two thousand feet above the
-level of the sea; and C. Fuchs, stating the same fact concerning
-certain elevations in Thuringia and the Black Forest, was the
-first to advance the theory that phthisis diminishes according to
-certain altitudes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dr. Brüggens, also, has since testified to the infrequency of
-this disease in the Swiss Alps, at the height of 4500 to 6000
-feet in the Engaddine; nor is it found among the monks of the
-Great Saint Bernard at the altitude of 6825 feet. According to M.
-Lombard, it completely disappears among these mountains at the
-height of 4500 feet.
-</p>
-<p>
-The populous cities of the American continent, which are situated
-in the tropical zone at an altitude of six thousand feet above
-the level of the sea, are exempt from lung diseases; although, in
-the same latitude, phthisis is common in lower regions, This
-immunity exists on the other hemisphere in the same zone&mdash;on the
-elevated plateaux of Hindostan and the Himalaya. In examining the
-state of the climate on the heights in which phthisis is seldom
-or never found, we find there, even on the equator, a medium
-temperature sufficiently low throughout the year; between twelve
-and fifteen degrees on the heights below 9000 feet; between three
-and five degrees on those between 9000 and 12,000 feet.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the temperate zone it is still lower. But the warmest months
-upon tropical heights do not vary more than six or eight degrees
-from the medium temperature. It is the same on the plateaux of
-the Alps and in Iceland, and is a general and common
-characteristic of the regions in which phthisis is not found. The
-deviations below the annual medium, appear even to increase this
-immunity. If sufficient observations have not been made to decide
-upon the degree of comparative humidity on the heights above
-12,000 feet, we know that the elevation at which phthisis is
-wanting, is in a hygrometrical condition more nearly approaching
-saturation than the lower regions, and that the rains are also
-more abundant there.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is desirable that the heights of Cévennes, the Pyrenees, the
-Alps, and, above all, the elevated parts of our Algerian
-possessions should be carefully studied, with a view to the
-treatment of lung diseases, which are the great scourge of the
-human race, and which annually cause the death of more than three
-millions of its number.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is useful, not only to study different countries with respect
-to their salubrity, but also to observe the different situations
-in the same locality, and the different quarters of the same
-city. M. Junod presented to the Academy of Sciences, some years
-since, an essay on this subject, which is full of interest. In
-considering the distribution of the population in large cities,
-we are struck by the tendency of the wealthy class to move toward
-the western portions, abandoning the opposite side to the
-industrial pursuits, It seems to have divined, by a kind of
-intuition, the locality which would have the greatest immunity in
-the time of sore public calamities.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79">{79}</a></span>
-For example, let us speak first of Paris. From the foundation of
-the city, the opulent class has constantly directed its course
-toward the west. It is the same in London, and generally, in all
-the cities of England. At Vienna, Berlin, St. Petersburg, and,
-indeed, in all the capitals of Europe, this same fact is
-repeated; there is the same movement of the rich toward the west,
-where are assembled the palaces of the kings, and the dwellings
-for which only pleasant and healthy sites are desired.
-</p>
-<p>
-In visiting the ruins of Pompeii and other ancient cities, I have
-observed, as well as M. Junod, that this custom dates from the
-highest antiquity. In those cities, as is seen at Paris in our
-day, the largest cemeteries are found in the eastern parts, and
-generally none in the western. M. Junod, examining the reason of
-so general a fact, thinks it is connected with <i>atmospheric
-pressure</i>. When the mercury in the barometer rises, the smoke
-and injurious emanations are quickly dispelled in the air. When
-the mercury lowers, we see the smoke and noxious vapors remain in
-the apartments and near the surface of the earth. Now every one
-knows that, of all winds, that from the east causes the mercury
-in the barometer to rise the highest, and that which lowers it
-most is from the west. When the latter blows, it carries with it
-all the deleterious gases it meets in its course from the west.
-The result is, that the inhabitants of the eastern parts of a
-city not only have their own smoke and miasmas, but also those of
-the western parts, brought by the west wind. When, on the
-contrary, the east wind blows, it purifies the air by causing the
-injurious emanations to rise, so that they cannot be thrown back
-upon the west. It is evident, then, that the inhabitants of the
-western parts receive pure air from whatever quarter of the
-horizon it comes. We will add, that the west wind is most
-prevalent, and the west end receives it all fresh from the
-country.
-</p>
-<p>
-From the foregoing facts, M. Junod lays down the following
-directions: First, persons who are free to choose, especially
-those of delicate health, should reside in the western part of a
-city. Secondly, for the same reason, all the establishments that
-send forth vapors or injurious gases should be in the eastern
-part. Thirdly and finally, in erecting a house in the city, and
-even in the country, the kitchen should be on the eastern side,
-as well as all the out-houses from which unhealthy emanations
-might spread into the apartments.
-</p>
-<p>
-M. Elie de Beaumont has since mentioned some facts which tend to
-prove the constancy and generality of the rule laid down by M.
-Junod. He noticed in most of the large cities this tendency of
-the wealthy class to move to the same side&mdash;generally, the
-western&mdash;unless hindered by certain local obstacles. Turin,
-Liége, and Caen are examples of this. M. Moquin-Tandon has
-observed the same thing at Montpellier and at Toulouse. Paris and
-London also present analogous facts, although the rivers which
-traverse those two great centres flow in a diametrically
-different direction. Paris increased in a north-easterly
-direction at the time when the Bastille, the Palais des
-Tournelles, the Hotel St. Paul, etc., were built; but the
-inhabitants were then influenced by fear of the aggressive
-Normans, whose fleets ascended the Seine as far as Paris, and
-were only arrested by the Pont-au-Change. At that time, and as
-long as this fear lasted, they must have felt unwilling to live
-in Auteuil or Grenelle, But since the foundation of the Louvre,
-and especially since the reign of Henri Quatre, the current has
-resumed its normal direction.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80">{80}</a></span>
-M. Elie de Beaumont is inclined to believe that, among the causes
-of this phenomenon, we should reckon the temperature and the
-hygrometrical state of the air, which is generally warmer and
-more moist during the winds from the west and south-west than
-during the east and north-east winds.
-</p>
-<p>
-What most contributes to prolong existence is a certain
-uniformity in heat and cold, and in the density and rarity of the
-atmosphere. This is why the countries in which the barometer and
-thermometer are subject to sudden and considerable changes are
-never favorable to the duration of life. They may be healthy, and
-man may live a long time there; but he will never attain a very
-advanced age, because the variations of the atmosphere produce
-many interior changes which consume, to a surprising degree, both
-the strength and the organs of life.
-</p>
-<p>
-Too much dryness or too much humidity are equally injurious to
-the duration of life; yet the air most favorable to longevity is
-that which contains a certain quantity of water in dissolution.
-Moist air being already partly saturated, absorbs less from the
-body, and does not consume it as soon as a dry atmosphere; it
-keeps the organs a longer time in a state of suppleness and
-vigor; while a dry atmosphere dries up the fibres and hastens the
-approach of old age. It is for this reason, doubtless, that
-islands and peninsulas have always been favorable to old age. Man
-lives longer there than in the same latitude upon continents.
-Islands and peninsulas, especially in warm climates, generally
-offer everything that contributes to a long life: purity of air,
-a moist atmosphere, a temperature often at one's choice,
-wholesome fruit, clear water, and a climate almost unvariable. I
-had an opportunity, long desired, of traversing the ocean as far
-the Tristan Islands, and of returning to the Indian Ocean by
-doubling the Cape of Good Hope with a captain who wished to
-observe the different islands on the way. I was thus able, in
-going as well as returning, to visit these numerous islands, and
-I can speak of them from reasonable observation. But it is
-sufficient to mention, from a hygienic point of view, the Isle of
-Bourbon, (where I lived for many years,) to give an idea of the
-sanitary condition of islands in general. Like most isles, the
-Isle of Bourbon has a form more or less pyramidal. The shore,
-almost on a level with the sea, is the part principally
-inhabited. There are few villages in the interior of the island,
-but many private residences. The temperature on the shore, though
-very high, is less intense than is supposed: the medium
-temperature being between 40° and 50°. The sea and land breezes,
-which succeed each other morning and evening, refresh the
-atmosphere and maintain a healthy moisture. It hardly ever rains
-except during the winter, Besides, it is very easy to choose the
-temperature one prefers. As the mountains are very lofty, they
-afford every season at once. On the summit are seen snow and ice,
-while at the foot the heat is tropical; so that it is sufficient
-to ascend for ten or fifteen minutes to find a marked change of
-temperature, And the colonists of but little wealth are careful
-to profit by this precious favor of nature. They select two or
-three habitations at different heights, in order to enjoy a
-continual spring, During the cool season, they reside on the
-sea-shore. Then they go to their dwelling a little above, where
-the temperature is mild. And in the hot season, they ascend to
-still higher regions.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is impossible to express the pleasure of thus having several
-dwellings at one's choice, in some one of which desirable
-temperature can be enjoyed in any season.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81">{81}</a></span>
-I had three: one at St. Denis, capital of the colony, one at La
-Rivière-des-Pluies, and another at La Ressource. La
-Rivière-des-Pluies, belonging to M. Desbassayns, a venerable old
-man and president of the general council, is the finest situation
-on the island. It was formerly called the Versailles of Bourbon.
-I inhabited a summer-house above which the surrounding trees
-crossed their tufted branches, forming a dome of verdure in which
-the birds came to warble. Regular alleys, extending as far as the
-eye could reach, formed by superb mango-trees, were enclosed by
-parterres, groves, gardens, woods, and all the surroundings of a
-small village. Each large habitation in the colony had every
-resource within itself, and was the faithful copy of the old
-feudal castles.
-</p>
-<p>
-La Ressource, a dwelling for the hottest season, belonging also
-to M. Desbassayns, presented another kind of beauty. There was
-less artistic luxury about it, but nature had lavished on it all
-her splendor. After dinner, admiring the panorama which was
-spread out as far as the horizon, I remarked to M. Desbassayns
-that I did not believe it possible for the entire world of nature
-to furnish a more beautiful perspective. "I have travelled a
-great deal," said he, "and in truth I have never seen anything
-like it, not even from the most magnificent points of view in
-America." The venerable old man then took me by the arm and
-invited me to visit his estate. He made me first look at his
-woods, with their tufted foliage; the cane-fields; the deep
-ravines; the streams, with their windings rising one above the
-other in such a manner that the lower ones were perfectly
-visible, and extending in successive circuits more or less varied
-to the shore of the sea, which gleamed like a mirror as far as
-the eye could reach, and upon the azure surface of which stood
-clearly out, like silver clouds, the white sails from all parts
-of the world which had given each other <i>rendezvous</i> here,
-and were constantly approaching this isle of lava, flowers,
-shadows, and light, which they had taken as the centre of
-<i>réunion</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-He made me afterward notice the verdant fields which had formerly
-belonged to the parents of Virginia, the heroine of the romance
-of Bernardin de St. Pierre. He related to me the true history of
-Virginia, who was his cousin. Her death happened nearly as
-described by the celebrated romancer. He made me notice, upon his
-genealogical tree, the branch that bore upon one of its leaves
-the name of Virginia!
-</p>
-<p>
-M. Desbassayns had promised me some reliable notes respecting
-her, and I was glad to offer them to my illustrious friend, Count
-Alfred de Vigny, who, in giving me a farewell embrace, had
-commissioned me to bear his most tender expressions of love to
-the region which had inspired the touching narrative of St.
-Pierre. But alas! remorseless death warns us to remember the
-uncertainty of life, even when everything disposes us to forget
-it.
-</p>
-<p>
-He took me to one after another of the most interesting trees,
-particularly to the <i>arbre du voyageur</i>, a kind of banana,
-the leaves of which are inserted within one another like those of
-the iris, so as to form, at the height of eight or nine feet, a
-vast fan. Rain-water, and particularly dew, accumulates at the
-bottom of these leaves, as in a natural cup, and is kept very
-fresh; and if the base is pierced with a narrow blade, the liquid
-will flow out in a thread-like stream, which it is easy to
-receive in the mouth. The venerable old man opened one of their
-vegetable veins by way of example, and I soon lanced a great
-number of these providential trees, and refreshed myself with
-their limpid streams.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82">{82}</a></span>
-<p>
-Finally, he conducted me by a narrow path to the edge of a deep
-ravine in which flowed an abundant torrent, forming capricious
-cascades as it wound its way. After passing over a rustic bridge,
-an admirable spectacle was presented to our view. An alley was
-formed through a wilderness of bamboos, so sombre, so narrow, and
-high, that it would be difficult to give an idea of it. It was as
-if pierced through a forest of gigantic pipes; and when they were
-agitated by a storm, they produced a harmony so plaintive, so
-languid, and at the same time so terrible and full of poetry,
-that I often passed the entire night in listening to it. I am not
-astonished by what is related of these tall and sonorous
-<i>culms</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-In those fortunate countries that are shaded by the bamboo, it is
-said that happy lovers and suffering souls make holes in these
-long pipes and combine them in such a way that, when the wind
-blows, they give out a faithful expression of their joy or their
-grief. Nothing is sweeter than the tones that are thus produced
-by the evening breeze which attunes these harmonious reeds,
-rendering them at once aeolian harps and flutes. As soon as I
-found out this magical pathway, I betook myself there every day
-at the dawn, to read, to meditate, and to take notes till the
-hour of dinner. The next day after this visit, I had the
-curiosity to destroy one of the <i>arbre du voyageur</i>. It
-inundated me with its fresh stream, but I came near being
-punished for this profanation of nature, at the moment I expected
-it the least. A most formidable centipede escaped from the
-splinters which I made fly, and only lacked a little of falling
-directly on my face. M. Desbassayns was greatly astonished to see
-it; for it is generally believed, he said, that these venomous
-insects avoid this beneficent tree.
-</p>
-<p>
-The enchanting heavens of that privileged region are always
-serene, and the air is so pure that no gray tint ever appears on
-the horizon; the mountains, hills, meadows, every remote object
-indeed, instead of fading away in a dim atmosphere, beam out
-against a sky of cloudless azure. This is what renders the
-equatorial nights so resplendent. The astonished eye thinks it
-beholds a new heavens and new stars. How charming is the
-moonlight that comes in showers of light through a thousand
-quivering leaves which murmur in the breath of the perfumed
-breeze! and when to that is joined the far-off moan of the sea,
-and the sounds that escape from the ivory keys or resounding
-chords, which accompany the sweet accents of a Creole voice, we
-feel as if in one of those islands of bliss which surpass the
-imagination of the poets.
-</p>
-<p>
-One of the things that travellers have not sufficiently noticed,
-and which gives us a kind of homesickness for that beautiful
-region, is the enchanting harmony which results from the noise of
-the sea and the murmur of the breeze in the different kinds of
-foliage, a harmony which calms the agitation of the soul as well
-as the fever of the body. As there is every variety of
-temperature, so there is a great variety of trees. There is one
-especially remarkable, namely, the <i>pandanus</i>, which
-resembles both the pine and the weeping willow, Its summit is
-lost in the blue sky, and its numerous branches, borne by a
-pliant and elegant stem, support large tassels of leaves, long,
-cylindrical, and fine as hair; and when the breeze makes them
-tremble in its breath, they murmur in plaintive melancholy notes
-that, when once heard, we long to hear again and again.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83">{83}</a></span>
-<p>
-The cocoanut or palm-trees, with their leaves long, hard, and
-shining like steel, give out a sound like the clash of arms. The
-gigantic leaves of the banana are the echo of the voice of an
-overflowing torrent, piercing the air like the vast pipes of an
-organ. The bamboos, with their tall reeds which moan and grind as
-they bend, uttering long groans which, mingling with the tones,
-the wailing, and the murmurs of a thousand other kinds of
-foliage, with the deep roar of the agitated sea afar off, and the
-sound of the waves breaking on the shore, form an immense natural
-orchestra, the varied sounds of which, rising toward heaven, seem
-to bear with them, in accents without number, all the joys and
-all the griefs of the world.
-</p>
-<p>
-These trees with their tall, slender stems, and thick foliage,
-are continually bending in the incessant breeze, In the brilliant
-light of that climate their shadow looks black; and, as it is
-continually moving, you would think everything animate, and that
-sylphs and fairies were issuing forth on all sides.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is a constant succession of flowers with the strongest
-perfume; and when those of the wood are in bloom, you would think
-that every blade of grass, every leaf and every drop of dew gave
-out an essence which the wind, in passing, absorbed in order to
-perfume with it the happy dwellers in this Eden.
-</p>
-<p>
-Those enchanted regions have inhabitants worthy of their abode.
-The hospitality of the Creoles is proverbial. Every family is
-glad to receive the stranger and soon considers him as a friend
-and brother. The Creole women have the elegance of their
-palm-trees. They are as fresh and blooming as the corolla that
-expands at the dawn. Their kind courtesy envelops you like the
-penetrating odors which come from the wonderful vegetation that
-surrounds them. A Frenchman who meets another Frenchman in these
-far-off countries regards him as a part of France which has come
-to smile an him, and the intimacy, which is formed, is
-indissoluble.
-</p>
-<p>
-The traveller can never forget the touching scenes of the
-<i>varangue</i>, the enchanting evenings passed there, and the
-joyous cup of friendship there interchanged; sweet emotions
-contributing to longevity more than is commonly believed.
-</p>
-<p>
-One finds one's self in that fortunate land surrounded by
-hygienical influences which are most favorable to a long life.
-Let us add that the alimentary productions are of the first
-quality. The water in the stony basins is limpid, and the
-succulent fruits are varied enough to almost suffice for the
-nourishment of the inhabitants. How can one be a favorite of
-fortune and a prey to spleen without going to visit these places,
-which exhale a sovereign balm?
-</p>
-<p>
-Nevertheless, under that sky brilliant with pure light, in that
-atmosphere of freshness of perfume and of harmony, it seemed to
-me that a tint of infinite melancholy was everywhere diffused. I
-regarded the glorious sky, I listened to the trembling foliage, I
-breathed the penetrating odors, but something was everywhere
-wanting. When I sought what it was that I missed, I found it was
-the trees of my native land, which do not grow in every zone, and
-where they do grow are not so fine as here. I instinctively
-sought the wide-spreading oak, the lofty walnut, the chestnut
-with its tender verdure, the tall slender poplar, the modest
-willow, and the birch with its light shadow. I recalled the odor
-of their foliage, associated with my dearest remembrances, but in
-vain. I felt then an immense and inexpressible void that nothing
-could fill, and tears naturally sprang from these vague and
-profound impressions.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84">{84}</a></span>
-I hungered, I thirsted for the odor of the trees that had
-overshadowed my infancy&mdash;an insatiable hunger, a thirst nothing
-could satisfy. On returning from that remote voyage, especially
-during the first weeks, I went to the nursery of the Luxembourg,
-(alas! poor nursery!) I sought the fresh shades of the Bois de
-Boulogne, and there, during long rambles, I crushed the leaves in
-my hands and inhaled the perfume they gave out. I felt my lungs
-expand, as if a new life was infused into them with the odor I
-breathed. This invisible aliment which we derive from the
-exhalations of the plants to which we have been accustomed from
-infancy, had become for me an absolute necessity, a condition of
-health.
-</p>
-<p>
-A climate, a country may not at all times be favorable to
-longevity, or at all times unhealthy. The predominance of one
-industrial pursuit over another, the choice of one material
-instead of another for building houses, or a sudden change in the
-general habits, necessarily modifies, in a great degree, the
-conditions of longevity. This is what has happened in the Isle of
-Bourbon. Till within a few years, no epidemic or contagious
-malady was known in that fortunate island; no fever, no cholera,
-no throat complaints, no small-pox, etc. But all these diseases
-have attacked its inhabitants since our manures, our materials
-for building, and our products in general, have been used by them
-in large quantities.
-</p>
-<p>
-The drying up of a marsh, the cutting down of a forest, the
-substitution of one crop for another, may effect atmospheric
-changes through an extended radius, which will strengthen or
-weaken the vitality of the people. Some years since, there was a
-marsh behind the city of Cairo, which was separated from the
-desert by a hill. It was always noticed that the pestilential
-epidemics appeared to spring from that unhealthy spot and finally
-to spread throughout the east. The Pacha of Egypt, without
-thinking of this coincidence, noticed, on the other hand, that
-the hill behind the marsh entirely concealed the fine view which
-he would have from his palace, if it were removed. He gave orders
-to cut the hill down and to fill up the marsh with its
-<i>débris</i>, so that the winds which were formerly checked, had
-free circulation and purified the atmosphere, while the soil,
-thoroughly modified, ceased to emit the pestilential effluvia,
-Since that event the plague has not reappeared. A caprice of the
-Pacha effected more than all the quarantines and all the efforts
-of science, He has freed the world, perhaps for ever, from the
-most terrible of scourges.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is known that the cholera comes from India. It is engendered
-in the immense triangular space formed by two rivers: the Ganges
-and the Brahmapootra. It is the East India Company according to
-M. le Comte de Waren, that should be accused of treason to
-humanity. It is that power which has destroyed the canals and the
-derivations of the two finest rivers in the world. During the
-last twenty-five years of English occupation the number of pools
-in a single district, that of <i>Nort Arcoth</i>, which burst or
-were destroyed, amounted to eleven hundred. In the time of the
-Mogul conquerors, a fine canal, the Doab, extending from Delhi,
-fertilized two hundred leagues in its course. This canal is
-destroyed, and the lands, once so fertile and healthy, are now
-the infectious lair of wild beasts, having been depopulated by
-disease and death.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85">{85}</a></span>
-<p>
-The hygienic condition of different countries, then, may be
-modified in various ways. In 1698, Bigot de Molville, president
-<i>à mortier</i> of the Parliament of Normandy, found, after
-careful research, that, of all the cities of France, Rouen
-possessed the greatest number of octogenarians and centenarians.
-Toward the middle of the last century this superiority was
-claimed by Boulogne-sur-mer, which retained it for nearly fifty
-years, and was then called the <i>patrie des vieillards</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-In a recent communication to the Academy, M. de Garogna remarked
-that, in the printed or manuscript accounts we possess respecting
-the former eruptions of Santorin, many very interesting details
-are found concerning the different maladies occasioned by these
-eruptions, and observed at that epoch in the island, which
-support what we have said of the variable hygienic state of
-different places. According to these reports, the pathological
-result of the different eruptions included especially alarming
-complications, serious cerebral difficulties, suffocation, and
-derangement in the alimentary canal. He proved that morbid
-influences were only manifest when the direction of the wind
-brought the volcanic emanations. The parts of the island out of
-the course of the wind showed no trace of the maladies in
-question. Moreover, the sanitary condition of the places within
-reach of the wind became worse or improved according to the rise
-and fall of the wind. It should also be noticed that the morbid
-influence of the volcanic emanations extended to islands more or
-less remote from Santorin.
-</p>
-<p>
-From this report the following conclusions are to be drawn:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  1. The eruption in the Bay of Santorin, while in action, had a
-  manifest influence on the health of the people in that
-  island.
-<br><br>
-  2. It especially occasioned complicated diseases, throat
-  distempers, bronchitis, and derangement of the digestive
-  organs.
-<br><br>
-  3. The acidiferous ashes were the direct cause of the
-  complications, while the other morbid complaints should be
-  attributed to sulphuric acid.
-<br><br>
-  4. Vegetation was likewise affected by the eruption while
-  active, and particularly plants of the order <i>Siliaceae</i>.
-<br><br>
-  5. The changes in the vegetation were probably produced by
-  hydrochloric acid, at the beginning of the eruption.
-<br><br>
-  6. The hydro-sulphuric emanations appear, on the contrary, to
-  have had a beneficial effect on the diseases of the grape-vine.
-  It perhaps destroyed the <i>oidium</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is evident that the question of local influences upon the
-duration of life is a most comprehensive and fruitful one. Nature
-gives us some formal indications, in dividing the maladies of the
-human race; and the study of places and climates in a hygienic
-point of view, although in its infancy, has already brought to
-our notice many valuable facts. This study is full of interest.
-We shall doubtless arrive at a knowledge of the exact relation
-between such a malady, such an epidemic, and such a place, or
-site, or position with respect to the points of the compass, as
-well as of the beneficial and special influence exercised upon
-our principal organs by the exhalations from different places,
-which might well be called the genii of those regions.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86">{86}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-    <h2>The Bishops of Rome.</h2>
-	<p class="center_close">
-	[Footnote 42]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 42: <i>Harper's New Monthly Magazine. The Bishops
-    of Rome.</i> New York: Harper and Brothers, January, 1869.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-<i>Harper's Magazine</i>, we are told, has a wide circulation,
-and some merit as a magazine of light literature; but it does not
-appear to have much aptitude for the scholarly discussion of
-serious questions, whatever the matter to which they relate, and
-it is guilty of great rashness in attempting to treat a subject
-of such grave and important relations to religion and
-civilization, society and the church, as the history of the
-bishops of Rome. The subject is not within its competence, and
-the historical value of its essay to those who know something of
-the history of the popes and of mediaeval Europe is less than
-null.
-</p>
-<p>
-Of course, <i>Harper's Magazine</i> throws no new light on any
-disputed passage in the history of the bishops of Rome, and
-brings out no fact not well known, or at least often repeated
-before; it does nothing more than compress within a brief
-magazine article the principal inventions, calumnies, and
-slanders vented for centuries against the Roman pontiffs by
-personal or national antipathy, disappointed ambition, political
-and partisan animosity, and heretical and sectarian wrath and
-bitterness, so adroitly arranged and mixed with facts and
-probabilities as to gain easy credence with persons predisposed
-to believe them, and to produce on ignorant and prejudiced
-readers a totally false impression. The magazine, judging from
-this article, has not a single qualification for studying and
-appreciating the history of the popes. It has no key to the
-meaning of the facts it encounters, and is utterly unable or
-indisposed to place itself at the point of view from which the
-truth is discernible. Its <i>animus</i>, at least in this
-article, is decidedly anti-Christian, and proves that it has no
-Christian conscience, no Christian sympathy, no faith in the
-supernatural, no reverence for our Lord and his apostles, and no
-respect even for the authority of the Holy Scriptures.
-</p>
-<p>
-The magazine, under pretence of writing history, simply appeals
-to anti-Catholic prejudice, and repeats what Dr. Newman calls
-"the Protestant tradition." Its aim is not historical truth, or a
-sound historical judgment on the character of the Roman pontiffs,
-but to confirm the unfounded prejudices of its readers against
-them. It proceeds as if the presumption were that every pope is
-antichrist or a horribly wicked man, and therefore every doubtful
-fact must be interpreted against him, till he is proved innocent.
-Everything that has been said against a pope, no matter by whom
-or on what authority, is presumptively true; everything said in
-favor of a Roman pontiff must be presumed to be false or unworthy
-of consideration. It supposes the popes to have had the temper
-and disposition of non-Catholics, and from what it believes,
-perhaps very justly, a Protestant would do&mdash;if, <i>per
-impossibile</i>, he were elevated to the papal chair, and clothed
-with papal authority&mdash;concludes what the popes have actually
-done. It forgets the rule of logic, <i>Argumentum a genere ad
-genus, non valet</i>. The pope and the Protestant are not of the
-same genus. We have never encountered in history a single pope
-that did not sincerely believe in his mission from Christ, and
-take it seriously.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87">{87}</a></span>
-We have encountered weakness; too great complaisance to the civil
-power, even slowness in crushing out, in its very inception, an
-insurgent error; sometimes also too great a regard to the
-temporal, to the real or apparent neglect of the spiritual, and
-two or three instances in which the personal conduct of a pope
-was not much better than that of the average of secular princes;
-but never a pope who did not recognize the important trusts
-confided to his care, and the weighty responsibilities of his
-high office.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have studied the history of the Roman pontiffs with probably
-more care and diligence than the flippant writer in <i>Harper's
-Magazine</i> has done, and studied it, too, both as an
-anti-papist and as a papist, with an earnest desire to find facts
-against the popes, and with an equally earnest desire to
-ascertain the exact historical truth; and we reject as unworthy
-of the most fanatic sectarian the absurd rule of judging them
-which the magazine adopts, if it does not avow and hold that the
-presumption is the other way, and that everything that reflects
-injuriously on the character of a bishop of Rome is presumptively
-false, and to be accepted only on the most indubitable evidence.
-We can judge in this matter more impartially and disinterestedly
-than the anti-catholic. The impeccability of the pontiff, or even
-his infallibility in matters of mere human prudence, is no
-article of Catholic faith. The personal conduct of a pontiff may
-be objectionable; but unless he officially teaches error in
-doctrine, or enjoins an immoral practice on the faithful, it
-cannot disturb us. There are no instances in which a pope has
-done this. No pope has ever taught or enjoined vice for virtue,
-error for truth, or officially sanctioned a false principle or a
-false motive of action. With one exception, we might, then,
-concede all the magazine alleges, and ask, What then? What can
-you conclude? But, in fact, we concede nothing. What it alleges
-against the bishops of Rome is either historically false, or if
-not, is, when rightly understood, nothing against them in their
-official capacity.
-</p>
-<p>
-The exception mentioned is that of St. Liberius. The magazine
-repeats, with some variations, the exploded fable that this Holy
-Pope, won by favors or terrified by threats, consented to a
-condemnation of the <i>doctrine</i> of Athanasius, that is,
-signed an Arian formula of faith. It has not invented the
-slander, but it has, after what historical criticism has
-established on the subject, no right to repeat it as if it were
-not denied. We have no space now to treat the question at length;
-but we assert, after a very full investigation, that St. Liberius
-never signed an Arian formula, never in any shape or manner
-condemned the <i>doctrine</i> defended by St. Athanasius, and
-consequently never recanted, for he had nothing to recant. The
-most, if so much, that can be maintained is, that he approved a
-sentence condemning the special error of the Eunomians, in which
-was not inserted the word "consubstantial," because it was not
-necessary to the condemnation of their special error, and the
-error they held in common with all Arians had already been
-condemned by the council of Nicaea. Not a word can be truly
-alleged against the persistent orthodoxy of this great and holy
-pontiff, who deserves, as he has always received, the veneration
-of the church.
-</p>
-<p>
-The magazine repeats the slander of an anonymous writer, a bitter
-enemy of the popes, against St. Victor, St. Zethyrinus, and St.
-Callistus, three popes whom the Church of Rome has held, and
-still holds, in high esteem and veneration for their virtues and
-saintly character.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88">{88}</a></span>
-It refers to the <i>Philosophoumena</i>, a work published a few
-years ago by M. E. Miller, of Paris, variously attributed to
-Origen, to St. Hippolytus, bishop of Porto, near Rome, to Caius,
-a Roman Presbyter, and to Tertullian. The late Abbé Cruice&mdash;an
-Irishman by birth, we believe, but brought up and naturalized in
-France, where he was, shortly before his death, promoted to the
-episcopate&mdash;a profoundly learned man and an acute critic, has
-unanswerably proved that these are all unsustainable hypotheses,
-and that historical science is in no condition to say who was its
-author. Who wrote it, or where it was written, is absolutely
-unknown, but from internal evidence the writer was a contemporary
-of the three popes named, and was probably some Oriental
-schismatic, of unsound faith, and a bitter enemy of the popes.
-The work is not of the slightest authority against the bishops of
-Rome, but is of very great value as proving, by an enemy, that
-the papacy was fully developed&mdash;if that is the word&mdash;claiming
-and exercising in the universal church the same supreme authority
-that it claims and exercises now, and was as regular in its
-action in the last half of the second century, or within fifty or
-sixty years of the death of the apostle St. John, as it is under
-Pope Pius IX. now gloriously reigning. [Footnote 43]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 43: <i>Vide Histoire de l'Eglise de Rome sous les
-    Pontificats de St. Victor, de St. Zephirin, et St.
-    Calliste</i>. Par L'Abbé M. P. Cruice. Paris: Didot Frères.
-    1856.]
-</p>
-<p>
-When the magazine has nothing else to allege against the popes,
-it accuses them of "a fierce, ungovernable pride."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The fourth century brought important changes in the condition
-  of the bishops of Rome. It is a singular trait of the corrupt
-  Christianity of this period that the chief characteristic of
-  the eminent prelates was a fierce and ungovernable pride.
-  Humility had long ceased to be numbered among the Christian
-  virtues. The four great rulers of the Church, Bishop of Rome,
-  and the Patriarchs of Constantinople, Antioch, and Alexandria,
-  were engaged in a constant struggle for supremacy. Even the
-  inferior bishops assumed a princely state, and surrounded
-  themselves with their sacred courts. The vices of pride and
-  arrogance descended to the lower orders of clergy; the emperor
-  himself was declared to be inferior in dignity to the simple
-  presbyter, and in all public entertainments and ceremonious
-  assemblies the proudest layman was expected to take his place
-  below the haughty churchman, As learning declined and the world
-  sank into a new barbarism, the clergy elevated themselves into
-  a ruling caste, and were looked upon as half divine by the rude
-  Goths and the degraded Romans. It is even said that the pagan
-  nations of the west transferred to the priest and monk the same
-  awestruck reverence which they had been accustomed to pay to
-  their Druid teachers. The Pope took the place of their Chief
-  Druid, and was worshipped with idolatrous devotion; the meanest
-  presbyter, however vicious and degraded, seemed, to the
-  ignorant savages, a true messenger from the skies."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was no patriarch of Constantinople in the fourth century,
-and it was only in 330 that the city of Constantinople absorbed
-Byzantium. The bishop of Byzantium was not a patriarch, or even a
-metropolitan, but was a suffragan of the bishop of Heraclea. It
-was not till long after the fourth century that the bishop of
-Constantinople was recognized as patriarch, not, in fact, till
-the eighth general council. There was no struggle in the fourth
-nor in any subsequent century, for the supremacy, between Rome
-and Antioch, or Rome and Alexandria; neither the patriarch of
-Antioch nor the patriarch of Alexandria ever claimed the primacy;
-but both acknowledged that it belonged to the bishop of Rome, as
-do the schismatic churches of the East even now, though they take
-the liberty of disobeying their lawful superior. In the fifth
-Century, when St. Leo the Great was pope, the bishop of
-Constantinople claimed the <i>second</i> rank, or the first
-<i>after</i> the bishop of Rome, on the ground that
-Constantinople was the new Rome, the second capital of the
-empire.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89">{89}</a></span>
-St. Leo repulsed his claim, not in defence of his own rights, for
-it did not interfere with his supremacy, or primacy, as they said
-then, but in defence of the rights of the churches of Antioch and
-Alexandria. He also did it because the claim was urged on a false
-principle&mdash;that the authority of a bishop is derived from the
-civil importance of the city in which his see is established.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is not strange that the magazine should complain that the
-pontifical dignity was placed above the imperial, and that the
-simple presbyter took the step of the proudest layman; yet
-whoever believes in the spiritual order at all, believes it
-superior to the secular order, and therefore that they who
-represent the spiritual are in dignity above those who represent
-only the secular. When the writer of this was a Protestant
-minister, he took, and was expected to take, precedence of the
-laity. The common sense of mankind gives the precedence to those
-held to be invested with the sacred functions of religion, or
-clothed with spiritual authority.
-</p>
-<p>
-That St. Jerome, from his monastic cell near Jerusalem, inveighs
-against the vices and corruptions of the Roman clergy, as alleged
-in the paragraph following the one we have quoted, is very true;
-but his declamations must be taken with some grains of allowance.
-St. Jerome was not accustomed to measure his words when
-denouncing wrong, and saints generally are not. St. Peter Damian
-reported, after his official visit to Spain, that there was but
-one worthy priest in the whole kingdom, which really meant no
-more than that he found only one who came, in all respects, up to
-his lofty ideal of what a priest should be. Yet there might have
-been, and probably were, large numbers of others who, though not
-faultless, were very worthy men, and upon the whole, faithful
-priests. We must never take the exaggerations of saintly
-reformers, burning with zeal for the faith and the salvation of
-souls, as literal historical facts. St. Jerome, in his ardent
-love of the church and his high ideal of sacerdotal purity,
-vigilance, fidelity, and zeal, no doubt exaggerated.
-</p>
-<p>
-There can be nothing more offensive to every right and honorable
-feeling than the exultation of the magazine over the abuse,
-cruelties, and outrages inflicted on a bishop of Rome by civil
-tyrants. The writer, had he lived under the persecuting pagan
-emperors, would have joined his voice to that of those who
-exclaimed, <i>Christianos ad leones;</i> or had he been present
-when our Lord was arrested and brought as a malefactor before
-Pontius Pilate, none louder than he would have cried out,
-<i>Crucifige eum! crucifige eum!</i> His sympathies are uniformly
-with the oppressor, never, as we can discover, with the
-oppressed; with the tyrant, never with his innocent victim,
-especially if that victim be a bishop of Rome. He feels only
-gratification in recording the wrongs and sufferings of Pope St.
-Silverus. This pope was raised to the papacy by the tyranny of
-the Arian king Theodotus, and ordained by force, without the
-necessary subscription of the clergy. But after his consecration,
-the clergy, by their subscription, healed the irregularity of his
-election, as Anastasius the Librarian tells us, so as to preserve
-the unity of the church and religion. He appears to have been a
-holy man and a worthy pope; but he was not acceptable to
-Vigilius, who expected, by favor of the imperial court, to be
-made pope himself, nor to those two profligate women, the Empress
-Theodora and her friend Antonina, the wife of the patrician
-Belisarius.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90">{90}</a></span>
-Vigilius and these two infamous women compelled Belisarius to
-depose him, strip him of his pontifical robes, clothe him with
-the habit of a monk, and send him into exile; where, as some say,
-he was assassinated, and, as others say, perished of hunger. The
-magazine relates this to show how low and unworthy the bishops of
-Rome had become! Vigilius succeeded St. Silverus, and it
-continues:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Stained with crime, a false witness and a murderer, Vigilius
-  had obtained his holy office through the power of two
-  profligate women who now ruled the Roman world. Theodora, the
-  dissolute wife of Justinian, and Antonina, her devoted servant,
-  assumed to determine the faith and the destinies of the
-  Christian Church. Vigilius failed to satisfy the exacting
-  demands of his casuistical mistresses; he even ventured to
-  differ from them upon some obscure points of doctrine. His
-  punishment soon followed, and the bishop of Rome is said to
-  have been dragged through the streets of Constantinople with a
-  rope around his neck, to have been imprisoned in a common
-  dungeon and fed on bread and water. The papal chair, filled by
-  such unworthy occupants, must have sunk low in the popular
-  esteem, had not Gregory the Great, toward the close of sixth
-  century, revived the dignity of the office."
-</p>
-<p>
-We know of nothing that can be said in defence of the conduct of
-Vigilius prior to his accession to the papal throne. His
-intrigues with Theodora to be made pope, and his promises to her
-to restore, when he should be pope, Anthemus, deposed from the
-see of Constantinople by St. Agapitus for heresy, and to set
-aside the council of Chalcedon, were most scandalous; and his
-treatment of St. Silverus, whether he actually exiled him and had
-a hand in his death or not, admits, as far as we are informed, of
-no palliation; but his conduct thus far was not the conduct of
-the pope; and after he became bishop of Rome, at least after the
-death of his deposed predecessor, his conduct was, upon the
-whole, irreproachable. He conceded much for the sake of peace,
-and was much blamed; but he conceded nothing of the faith; he
-refused to fulfill the improper promises he had made, before
-becoming pope, to the empress, confessed that he had made them,
-said he was wrong in making them, retracted them, and resisted
-with rare firmness and persistence the emperor Justinian in the
-matter of the three chapters, and fully expiated the offences
-committed prior to his elevation, by enduring for seven long
-years the brutal outrages an indignities offered him by the
-half-savage Justinian, the imperial courtiers, and intriguing and
-unscrupulous prelates of the court party&mdash;outrages and sufferings
-of which he died after his liberation on his journey back from
-Constantinople to Rome.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have touched on these details for the purpose of showing that
-the principal offenders in the transactions related were not the
-bishops of Rome, but the civil authorities and their adherents,
-that deprived the Roman clergy and the popes of their proper
-freedom. If the papal chair was filled with unworthy occupants,
-and had sunk low in the public esteem, it was because the emperor
-or empress at Constantinople and the Arian and barbarian kings in
-Italy sought to raise to it creatures of their own. They deprived
-the Roman clergy, the senate, and people of the free exercise of
-their right to elect the pope; and the pope, after his election,
-of his freedom of action, if he refused to conform to their
-wishes, usually criminal, and always base. Yet <i>Harper's
-Magazine</i> lays all the blame to the popes themselves, and
-seems to hold them responsible for the crimes and tyranny, the
-profligacy and lawless will of which they were the victims. If
-the wolf devoured the lamb, was it not
-the lamb's fault?
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91">{91}</a></span>
-<p>
-St. Gregory the Great was of a wealthy and illustrious family,
-and therefore finds some favor with the magazine; yet it calls
-him "a half-maddened enthusiast," and accuses him of "unsparing
-severity," and "excessive cruelty" in the treatment of his monks
-before his elevation to the papal chair. But his complaisance to
-the usurper Phocas, which we find it hard to excuse, and
-especially his disclaiming the title of "Universal Bishop,"
-redeem him in its estimation.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "A faint trace of modesty and humility still characterized the
-  Roman bishops, and they expressly disclaimed any right to the
-  supremacy of the Christian world. The patriarch of
-  Constantinople, who seems to have looked with a polished
-  contempt upon his western brother, the tenant of fallen Rome
-  and the bishop of the barbarians, now declared himself the
-  Universal Bishop and the head of the subject Church. But
-  Gregory repelled his usurpation with vigor. Whoever calls
-  himself Universal Bishop is Antichrist,' he exclaimed; and he
-  compares the patriarch to Satan, who in his pride had aspired
-  to be higher than the angels."
-</p>
-<p>
-John Jejunator, bishop of Constantinople, did not claim the
-primacy, which belonged to the bishop of Rome, nor did Gregory
-disclaim it; but called himself "oecumenical patriarch." The
-title he assumed derogated not from the rights and privileges of
-the apostolic see, but from those of the sees of Antioch and
-Alexandria. It was unauthorized, and showed culpable ambition and
-an encroaching disposition. St. Gregory, therefore, rebuked the
-bishop of Constantinople, and alleged the example of his
-predecessor, St. Leo the Great, who refused the title of
-"oecumenical bishop" when it was offered him by the Fathers of
-Chalcedon. It is a title never assumed or borne by a bishop of
-Rome, who, in his capacity as bishop, is the equal, and only the
-equal, of his brother bishops. All bishops are equal, as St. John
-Chrysostom tells us. The authority which the pope exercises over
-the bishops of the Catholic Church is not the episcopal, but the
-apostolical authority which he inherits from Peter, the prince of
-the apostles. St. Gregory disclaimed and condemned the title of
-"universal bishop," which was appropriate neither to him nor to
-any other bishop; but he did not disclaim the apostolic authority
-held as the successor of Peter. He actually claimed and exercised
-it in the very letter in which he rebukes the bishop of
-Constantinople. The magazine is wholly mistaken in asserting that
-Gregory disclaimed the papal supremacy. He did no such thing; he
-both claimed and exercised it, and few popes have exercised it
-more extensively or more vigorously.
-</p>
-<p>
-The magazine is also mistaken in asserting that St. Leo III.
-crowned Charlemagne "Emperor of the West." Charlemagne was
-already hereditary patrician of Rome, and bound by his office to
-maintain order in the city and territories of Rome, and to defend
-the Holy See, or the Roman Church, against its enemies. All the
-pope did was to raise the patrician to the imperial dignity,
-without any territorial title. Charles never assumed or bore the
-title of Emperor of the West. His official title was "Rex
-Francorum et Longobardorum Imperator." The title of "Emperor of
-the West," or "Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire," which his
-German successors assumed, was never conferred by the pope, but
-only acquiesced in after it had been usurped. The pope conferred
-on Charlemagne no authority out of the papal states.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have no space to discuss the origin of the temporal
-sovereignty of the bishops of Rome, nor the ground of that
-arbitratorship which the popes, during several ages,
-unquestionably exercised with regard to the sovereign princes
-bound by their profession and the constitution of their states to
-profess and protect the Catholic religion.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92">{92}</a></span>
-We have already done the latter in an article on <i>Church and
-State</i> in our magazine for April, 1867. But we can tell
-<i>Harper's Magazine</i> that it entirely misapprehends the
-character of St. Gregory VII., and the nature and motive of the
-struggle between him and Henry III., or Henry IV., as some
-reckon, king of the Germans, for emperor he never was. Gregory
-was no innovator; he introduced, and attempted to introduce, no
-change in the doctrine or discipline of the church, nor in the
-relations of church and state. He only sought to correct abuses,
-to restore the ancient discipline which had, through various
-causes, become relaxed, and to assert and maintain the freedom
-and independence of the church in the government of her own
-spiritual subjects in all matters spiritual.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "His elevation was the signal for the most wonderful change in
-  the character and purposes of the church. The pope aspired to
-  rule mankind. He claimed an absolute power over the conduct of
-  kings, priests, and nations, and he enforced his decrees by the
-  terrible weapons of anathema and excommunication. He denounced
-  the marriages of the clergy as impious, and at once there arose
-  all over Europe a fearful struggle between the ties of natural
-  affection and the iron will of Gregory. Heretofore the secular
-  priests and bishops had married, raised families, and lived
-  blamelessly as husbands or fathers, in the enjoyment of marital
-  and filial love. But suddenly all this was changed. The married
-  priests were declared polluted and degraded, and were branded
-  with ignominy and shame. Wives were torn from their devoted
-  husbands, children were declared bastards, and the ruthless
-  monk, in the face of the fiercest opposition, made celibacy the
-  rule of the church. The most painful consequences followed. The
-  wretched women, thus degraded and accursed, were often driven
-  to suicide in their despair. Some threw themselves into the
-  flames; others were found dead in there beds, the victims of
-  grief or of their own resolution not to survive their shame,
-  while the monkish chroniclers exult over their misfortunes, and
-  triumphantly consign them to eternal woe.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Thus the clergy under Gregory's guidance became a monastic
-  order, wholly separated from all temporal interests; and bound
-  in a perfect obedience to the church. He next forebade all lay
-  investitures or appointments to bishoprics or other clerical
-  offices, and declared himself the supreme ruler of the
-  ecclesiastical affairs of nations. No temporal sovereign could
-  fill the great European sees, or claim any dominion over the
-  extensive territories held by eminent churchmen in right of
-  their spiritual power. It was against this claim that the
-  Emperor of Germany, Henry IV., rebelled. The great bishoprics
-  of his empire, Cologne, Bremen, Treves, and many others, were
-  his most important feudatories, and should he suffer the
-  imperious pope to govern them at will, his own dominion would
-  be reduced to a shadow. And now began the famous contest
-  between Hildebrand and Henry, between the carpenter's son and
-  the successor of Charlemagne, between the Emperor of Germany
-  and the Head of the Church."
-</p>
-<p>
-This heart-rending picture is, to a great extent, a fancy piece.
-The celibacy of the clergy was the law of the church and of the
-German empire; and every priest knew it before taking orders.
-These pretended marriages were, in both the ecclesiastical courts
-and the civil courts, no marriages at all; and these dispairing
-wives of priests were simply concubines. What did Gregory do, but
-his best to enforce the law which the emperors had suffered to
-fall into desuetude? The right of investiture was always in the
-pope, and it was only by his authority that the emperors had ever
-exercised it.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93">{93}</a></span>
-The pope had authorized them to give investiture of bishops at a
-time of disorder, and when it was for the good of the church that
-they should be so authorized. But when they abused the trust, and
-used it only to fill the sees with creatures of their own, or
-sold the investiture for money to the unworthy and the
-profligate, and intruded them into sees, in violation of the
-canons, and sheltered them from the discipline of the
-church&mdash;causing, thus, gross corruption of morals and manners,
-the neglect of religious instruction, and dangers to souls&mdash;it
-was the right and the duty of the pontiff to revoke the
-authorization given, to dismiss his unworthy agents, and to
-forbid the emperors henceforth to give investiture.
-</p>
-<p>
-The magazine says that if the emperor should suffer the imperious
-pope to be allowed to govern at will the great bishoprics of
-Cologne, Bremen, Treves, and many others, which were the most
-important feudatories of his empire, his own dominion would be
-reduced to a shadow. But if the emperor could fill them with
-creatures of his own, make bishops at his will, and depose them
-and sequester their revenues if they resisted his tyranny, or
-sell them, as he did, to the highest bidder&mdash;thrusting out the
-lawful occupants, and intruding men who could have been only
-usurpers, and who really were criminals in the eye of the law,
-and usually dissolute and scandalous in morals&mdash;where would have
-been the rightful freedom and independence of the church? How
-could the pope have maintained order and discipline in the
-church, and protected the interests of religion? At worst, the
-imperious will of the pontiff was as legitimate and as
-trustworthy as the imperious will of such a brutal tyrant and
-moral monster as was Henry. The pope did but claim his rights and
-the rights of the faithful people. It was no less important that
-the spiritual authority should govern in spirituals than it was
-that the secular authority should govern in temporals. The pope
-did not interfere, nor propose to interfere, with the emperor in
-the exercise of his authority in temporals; but he claimed the
-right, which the emperor could not deny, to govern in spirituals;
-and resisted the attempt of Henry to exercise any authority in
-the church, which, whatever infidels and secularists may pretend,
-is of more importance than the state, for it maintains the state.
-He never pretended to any authority in the fiefs of the empire,
-or to subject to his will matters not confessedly within his
-jurisdiction.
-</p>
-<p>
-Does the writer in the magazine maintain that the Methodist
-General Conference would be wrong to claim the right of choosing
-and appointing its own bishops, and assigning the pastors,
-elders, and preachers to their respective circuits; and that it
-could justly be accused of seeking to dominate over the state if
-it resisted, with all its power, the attempt of the state to take
-that matter into its own hands, and appoint for all the Methodist
-local conferences, districts, and circuits, bishops and pastors,
-itinerant and local preachers, and should appoint men of
-profligate lives, who scorned the <i>Book of Discipline</i>,
-Unitarians, Universalists, rationalists, and infidels, or the
-bitter enemies of Methodism; those who would neglect every
-spiritual duty, and seek only to plunder the funds and churches
-to provide for their own lawless pleasures, or to pay the bribes
-by which they obtained their appointment? We think not. And yet
-this is only a mild statement of what Henry did, and of what
-Gregory resisted. The pope claimed and sought to obtain no more
-for the church in Germany than is the acknowledged right of every
-professedly Christian sect in this country, and which every sect
-fully enjoys, without any let or hindrance from the state. Why,
-then, this outcry against Gregory VII.? Do these men who are so
-bitter against him, and gnash their teeth at him, know what they do?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94">{94}</a></span>
-Have they ever for a moment reflected how much the modern world
-owes for its freedom and civilization to just such great popes as
-Hildebrand, who asserted energetically the rights of God, the
-freedom of religion, and made the royal and imperial despots and
-brutal tyrants who would trample on all laws, human and divine,
-feel that, if they would wear their crowns, they must study to
-restrain their power within its proper limits, and to rule justly
-for the common good, according to the law of God?
-</p>
-<p>
-What Germany thought of the conduct of Henry is evinced by the
-fact that when Gregory struck him with the sword of Peter and
-Paul, everybody abandoned him but his deeply injured wife and one
-faithful attendant. The whole nation felt a sense of relief and
-breathed freely. An incubus which oppressed its breast was thrown
-off. The picture of the sufferings of Henry traversing the Alps
-in the winter and standing shivering with cold in his thin garb,
-as a penitent before the door of the pontiff, is greatly
-exaggerated, and the attempt to excite sympathy for him and
-indignation against the pontiff can have no success with those
-who have studied with some care the history of the times. Henry
-was a bad man; a capricious, unprincipled, tyrannical, and brutal
-ruler, and his cause was bad. The pope was in the right; he was
-on the side of truth and justice, of God and humanity, pure
-morals and just liberty. Leo the historian, a Protestant, and
-Voigt, a Protestant minister, both Germans, have each completely
-vindicated Gregory's conduct toward Henry of Germany, though
-Harper's historian is probably ignorant of that fact, as he is of
-some others.
-</p>
-<p>
-As to the pope's subjecting Henry to the discipline of the
-church, and depriving him of his crown, all we need say is, that
-all men are equal before God and the church, and kings and
-kaisers are as much amenable to the discipline of the church,
-acknowledged by them to be Christ's kingdom, as the meanest of
-their subjects. The pope assumed no more than the kirk session
-assumed when it sent their King Charles II. to the "cuttie
-stool." The revolutionists of Spain have just deprived Isabella
-Segunda of her crown and throne, with the general applause of the
-non-Catholic world, and no pope ever deprived a prince who denied
-his jurisdiction, or his legal right to sit in judgment on his
-case, nor, till after a fair trial had been had, and a judicial
-sentence was rendered according to the existing laws of his
-principality. We see not why, then, the popes should be decried
-for doing legally, and after trial, what revolutionists are
-applauded for doing without trial and against all law, human and
-divine&mdash;unless it be because the pope deprived only base and
-profligate monsters, stained with the worst of crimes; and the
-revolutionists deprive the guiltless, who violate no law of the
-state or of the church, The pope deprived for crime; the
-revolutionists usually for virtue or innocence, only under
-pretence of ameliorating the state, which they subvert.
-</p>
-<p>
-But our space is nearly exhausted, and we must hurry on. Innocent
-III. is another of those great bishops of Rome that excite the
-wrath of <i>Harper's Magazine</i>&mdash;probably because he was really
-a great pope, energetic in asserting the faith, in removing
-scandals, in enforcing discipline on kings and princes as well as
-on their subjects; in repressing sects, like the Albigenses, that
-struck at the very foundations of religion and society, or of the
-moral order; in defending the purity of morals and the sanctity
-of marriage, and in espousing the cause of the weak against the
-strong, of oppressed innocence against oppressive guilt.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95">{95}</a></span>
-This is too much for the endurance of the magazine. It indeed
-does not say that Innocent did not espouse the cause of justice
-in the case of Philip Augustus and his injured queen, Ingeburga;
-but it contends that he did it from unworthy motives, for the
-sake of extending and consolidating the papal authority over
-kings and princes. Though he admits John Lackland was a moral
-monster, and opened negotiations with a Mohammedan prince to the
-scandal of Christendom, offered to make himself a Mussulman, and
-would have embraced Islamism if the infidel prince had not
-repelled him with indignation and contempt; it yet finds that
-Innocent was altogether wrong in taking effective measures to
-restrain his tyranny, cruelty, licentiousness, and plunder of the
-churches and robbery of his subjects. His motive was simply to
-monopolize power and profit for the papal see. He also, for like
-reasons, was wrong in resisting Frederic II. of Germany, who, he
-says, preferred Islamism to Christianity, as itself probably
-prefers it to Catholicity.
-</p>
-<p>
-The article closes with a tirade against Alexander VI., and his
-children, Caesar and Lucretia Borgia, Roscoe, a Protestant or
-rationalist, has vindicated the character of Lucretia, that
-accomplished, capable, and most grossly calumniated woman, who,
-in her real history, appears to have been not less eminent for
-her virtues than for her beauty and abilities. Caesar Borgia we
-have no disposition to defend, though we have ample grounds for
-believing that he was by no means so black as Italian hatred and
-malice have painted him. Alexander was originally in the army of
-Spain, and his manners and morals were such as we oftener
-associate with military men than with ecclesiastics, He lived
-with a woman who was another man's wife, and had two or three
-children by her. But this was while he was a soldier, and before
-he was an ecclesiastic or thought of taking orders. He was called
-to Rome for his eminent administrative ability, by his uncle,
-Pope Callixtus III.; took, in honor of his uncle, the name of
-Borgia; became an ecclesiastic; was, after some time, made
-cardinal, and finally raised to the papal throne under the name
-of Alexander VI. After he was made cardinal, if, indeed, after he
-became an ecclesiastic, nothing discreditable to his morals has
-been proved against him; and his moral character, during his
-entire pontificate, was, according to the best authorities,
-irreproachable. The Borgias had, however, the damning sin of
-being Spaniards, not Italians; and of seeking to reduce the
-Italian robber barons to submission and obedience to law, and to
-govern Italy in the interests of public order. They had,
-therefore, many bitter and powerful enemies; hence, the
-aspersions of their character, and the numerous fables against
-them, and which but too many historians have taken for
-authenticated facts. The alleged poisonings of Alexander and his
-daughter Lucretia are none of them proved, and are inventions of
-Italian hatred and malice. Yet, though Alexander's conduct as
-pope was irreproachable, and his administration able and
-vigorous, his antecedents were such that his election to the
-papal throne was a questionable policy, and Savonarola held it to
-be irregular and null.
-</p>
-<p>
-The magazine indulges in the old cant about the contrast between
-the poverty and humility of Peter and the wealth and grandeur of
-his successors; the simplicity of the primitive worship, and the
-pomp and splendor of the Roman service.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96">{96}</a></span>
-There is no need of answering this. When the Messrs. Harper
-Brothers started the printing business in this city, we presume
-their establishment was in striking contrast to their present
-magnificent establishment in Cliff street. When the world was
-converted to the church, and the supreme pontiff had to sustain
-relations with sovereign princes, to receive their ambassadors,
-and send his legates to every court in Christendom to look after
-the interests of religion&mdash;the chief interest of both society
-and individuals&mdash;larger accommodations than were afforded by that
-"upper room" in Jerusalem were needed, and a more imposing
-establishment than St. Peter may have had was a necessity of the
-altered state of things. Even our Methodist friends, we notice,
-find it inconvenient to observe the plainness and simplicity in
-dress and manners prescribed by John Wesley their founder. He
-forbids, we believe, splendid churches, with steeples and bells;
-and the earliest houses for Methodist meetings, even we remember,
-were very different from the elegant structures they are now
-erecting. We heard a waggish minister say of one of them, "Call
-you this the Lord's house? you should rather call it the Lord's
-barn."
-</p>
-<p>
-The Catholic Church continues and fulfils the synagogue, and her
-service is, to a great extent, modelled after the Jewish, which
-was prescribed by God himself. The dress of the pontiff, when he
-celebrates the Holy Sacrifice, is less gorgeous than that of the
-Jewish high-priest. St. Peter's is larger than was Solomon's
-temple, but it is not more gorgeous; and the Catholic service,
-except in the infinite superiority of the victim immolated upon
-the altar, is not more splendid, grand, or imposing than was the
-divinely prescribed temple service of the Hebrews. The magazine
-appears to think with Judas Iscariot, that the costly ointment
-with which a woman that had been a sinner anointed the feet of
-Jesus, after she had washed them with her tears and wiped them
-with her hair, was a great waste, and might have been put to a
-better use. But our Lord did not think so, and Judas Iscariot did
-not become the prince of the apostles. We owe all we have to God,
-and it is but fitting that we should employ the best we have in
-his service.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here we must close. We have not replied to all the misstatements,
-misrepresentations, perversions, and insinuations of the article
-in <i>Harper's Magazine</i>. We could not do it in a brief
-article like the present. It would require volumes to do it. We
-have touched only on a few salient points that struck us in
-glancing over it; but we have said enough to show its
-<i>animus</i> and to expose its untrustworthiness. Refuted it we
-have not, for there really is nothing in it to refute, It lays
-down no principles, states no premises, draws no conclusions. It
-leaves all that to be supplied by the ignorance and prejudices of
-its readers. It is a mere series of statements that require no
-answer but a flat denial. It is not strange that the magazine
-should calumniate the popes, and seek to pervert their history.
-Our Lord built his church on Peter, being himself the chief
-cornerstone; and nothing is more natural than that they who hate
-the church should strike their heads against the papacy. The
-popes have always been the chief object of attack, and have had
-to bear the brunt of the battle. Yet they have labored, suffered,
-been persecuted, imprisoned, exiled, and martyred for the
-salvation of mankind. What depth of meaning in the dying words of
-the exiled Gregory VII., "I have loved justice, and hated
-iniquity; therefore I die in exile." Alas! the world knows not
-its benefactors, and crucifies its redeemers!
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97">{97}</a></span>
-<br>
-       <h2>March Omens.</h2>
-	   <p class="center_close">
-	   [Footnote 44]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 44: From <i>Irish Odes and other Poems</i>, by
-    Aubrey De Vere, just Issued by the Catholic Publication
-    Society.]
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  ON ivied stems and leafless sprays
-    The sunshine lies in dream:
-  Scarcely yon mirrored willow sways
-    Within the watery gleam.
-
-  In woods far off the dove is heard,
-    And streams that feed the lake:
-  All else is hushed save one small bird,
-    That twitters in the brake.
-
-  Yet something works through earth and air,
-    A sound less heard than felt,
-  Whispering of Nature's procreant care,
-    While the last snow-flakes melt.
-
-  The year anon her rose will don;
-    But to-day this trance is best&mdash;
-  This weaving of fibre and knitting of bone
-    In Earth's maternal breast.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98">{98}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-    <h2>Translated From The German<br>
-    By Richard Storrs Willis.
-<br><br>
-         Emily Linder.
-<br><br>
-         A Life-portrait.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-The circle of those who were witness to the blossom-period of the
-city of Munich, that glorious epoch of twenty or thirty years
-which dawned upon the Bavarian capital when Louis I. ascended the
-throne, is gradually narrowing, and every year contracts it still
-further. The name of her to whom this sketch is dedicated
-belonged to this circle, and is closely associated with the best
-of those who aided in inaugurating this brilliant epoch, and
-rendering Munich a hearthstone of culture which attracted the
-gaze of the educated world. Sunny period of old Munich! They of
-that time speak of it with the same enthusiasm as of their own
-youth. Yet to a future generation will their testimony sound like
-some beautiful tradition.
-</p>
-<p>
-To not a few, the name of Miss Emily Linder appeared for the
-first time, as the intelligence of her death passed through the
-public journals of February, 1857. Yet was her life no ordinary
-one; and though it never tended to publicity, she accomplished
-more in her great seclusion than many a noisy and feted
-celebrity. Hers was a quiet and unassuming nature; she belonged
-to those who speak little and accomplish much. It is therefore
-befitting, now that she has gone to her home, here to speak of
-her. Not so much to praise her, for she shrank from all earthly
-praise; but to keep her memory fresh among her friends and to
-present to a selfish, distracted age, poor in faith, the
-animating example of a pure, faith-inspired, and symmetrical
-character a life full of fidelity, unselfishness, and enthusiasm.
-</p>
-<p>
-Swiss by birth and unchangeably devoted to her circumscribed
-home, Emily Linder little dreamed, probably, when in early life
-she wandered to Munich, that she would yet close a long life
-there. But over this life, swiftly as it glided along, there
-watched a special, directing Providence; and no one could more
-cheerfully have recognized this Providence than did she. What
-originally attracted her to Munich was Art: she probably
-contemplated, at first, only brief and transient visit there; but
-the metropolis of German art became a second home to her&mdash;even
-more than this.
-</p>
-<p>
-Emily Linder belonged to a wealthy mercantile family of Basle,
-and was born at that place on the 11th of October, 1797. She
-received a careful religious education, (in the reformed faith of
-her parents,) and that varied instruction which rendered her
-unusually wakeful mind susceptible to topics of deeper import.
-She seemed to have inherited from her grandfather, who was a
-lover and collector of artistic objects, a fondness for fine art.
-Following this predilection, the gifted girl decided to seize the
-pallet and devote herself to painting as an occupation. Such was
-her entirely independent position as to fortune, that nothing but
-inward enthusiasm could have led her to this step, or have
-confined her from thenceforth to the easel.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99">{99}</a></span>
-<p>
-The home of Holbein's genius offered her at first, doubtless,
-inspiration enough. But a new star had arisen in German art, and
-the youthful Swiss was drawn powerfully by its leading away from
-home&mdash;to Munich. The modest city on the verdant Iser began at
-that period to prove the goal of pilgrimage to every ambitious
-disciple of art. Miss Linder also heard of it, and, instead of
-going to Dresden, as she had intended, she turned for her further
-improvement to Munich. On her arrival in this city she had
-attained to an age of twenty-seven years; but her devotion to her
-chosen profession was so earnest, that she entered as a simple
-pupil the Academy of Fine Arts. In the catalogue of the academy,
-Emily Linder is inscribed as historical painter, on the 4th of
-November, 1824. But she frequented the studios only a few weeks.
-At that time it was customary to accept ladies as pupils; but she
-soon perceived that the position was hardly a becoming one,
-surrounded by so many young people of various characters, and all
-beginners like herself. She therefore had recourse to Professor
-Schlotthauer for private instruction. Under the guidance of this
-excellent master, "a veritable house-father in the painter's
-academy," as Brentano characteristically termed him, she pursued
-her studies in good earnest, and, according to the representation
-of her teacher, made rapid progress in the severer style of
-drawing, in which she had hitherto been less practised than in
-painting. She soon perfected herself to such an extent that she
-was enabled to complete her own compositions, and thus derived
-double satisfaction from her profession.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was indeed a pleasure in those days, competing with so many
-enthusiastic young artists and with the newly-appearing works in
-constant view, to labor and strive onward with the rest. This was
-the time, too, when Cornelius assumed the directorship of the
-Munich Academy and inaugurated, in grand style, the new era of
-German art. A wondrous life dawned upon Munich art at that
-period. Cornelius himself, in his old age, recalled with emotion
-and enthusiasm this youthful period of new German art. At Rome,
-thirty years later, on the occasion of the Louis festival of
-German artists, 20th May 1855, while he was delivering an address
-so celebrated for its many piquant flashes, he thus painted the
-joyous industry of those days:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "But when King Louis ascended the throne of his fathers, then
-  began the sport. Zounds! what moulding, building, drawing, and
-  painting! With what eagerness, with what hilarity each went to
-  his work! But it was an earnest hilarity: &hellip; nor was Munich at
-  that time a mere hot-house of art. The warmth was a healthy and
-  vital one, born of the flaming fire of inspiration, the
-  evidence of which every work, whatever its defects, bore upon
-  its very face. Those men who worked together in brotherly unity
-  knew that there confronted them the art tribunal of posterity
-  and of the German nation. It concerned them, now, that German
-  genius should open a new pathway in art, as it had already so
-  gloriously done in poetry, in music, in science."
-</p>
-<p>
-In this glorious time of youthful aspiration, bold conception,
-and joyful industry, Miss Linder began her artistic career in
-Munich. Is it a wonder then that the city pleased her daily
-better, and imperceptibly gained a home-like power over her? Nor
-had she, by any means, a lack of intellectual incitement. Her
-independent position and rare culture secured to her the most
-agreeable social position. In the family of Herr von Ringseis, to
-which she had brought an introduction from Basle, and where
-gathered the nobility of the entire fatherland, she came into
-contact with the most eminent artists and scholars.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100">{100}</a></span>
-Chief among these was Cornelius, who welcomed her to his family
-circle. The old master of German art remained a life-long friend
-of hers and warmly attached to her. Among her more intimate
-companions, she numbered also the two Eberhards, Heinrich Hess,
-Franz von Baader. Somewhat later, by the transfer of the
-university to Munich, were added to these Schubert, Görres,
-Schelling, Lasaulx. Also the two Boiseree, who in the autumn of
-1827 came to Munich with their art collection, which had been
-purchased by King Louis, were soon numbered among her nearer
-acquaintances.
-</p>
-<p>
-Amid so choice a circle there unfolded itself for the young
-artist a spiritual and intense life, to which she abandoned
-herself with all the joyous simplicity and freshness of an
-artistic nature; a nature which was susceptible also to the
-beautiful and the grand in other things&mdash;in poetry, in music, and
-in science. The quiet, friendly lady-artist became everywhere a
-favorite.
-</p>
-<p>
-But, amid all these manifold occupations, there was ever a
-certain earnestness, a striving out of the temporal into the
-eternal. Even art was not to her a mere amusement. Genuine art
-possesses an ennobling power, and she experienced what Michael
-Angelo once said to his friend Vittoria Colonna, "True painting
-is naturally religious and noble; for even the struggle toward
-perfection elevates the soul to devotion, draws it near to God
-and unites it with him." Attracted by the pure and lofty in art,
-Miss Linder gave preference to religious painting, a taste which
-was encouraged by her sterling master: and it caused her, though
-a Protestant, special gratification, while ever seeking the best
-studies, to paint or copy, whenever she could, devotional church
-pictures.
-</p>
-<p>
-In order to become acquainted, through actual observation, with
-the principal works of Christian art, she determined on a journey
-to Italy. Her first visit she decided to confine to the cities of
-upper Italy, and in company with Professor Schlotthauer and his
-wife, this plan was carried out during the summer and autumn of
-1825. Milan, Verona, Padua, Venice, Bologna, were visited, and,
-led by the hand of her intelligent master, they all passed under
-her examination. The goal of her travel was to be Florence. But
-the long-continued, fine autumn weather attracted the travellers
-further and further, and at length they came to Perugia, the
-middle point of the Umbrian school, and thence to the
-neighboring, picturesque-lying Assisi. At this place a little
-circumstance occurred which became of deep significance in the
-after life of the artist.
-</p>
-<p>
-The vetturino, familiar with the land and the people, called the
-attention of the travellers to the fact that in Assisi there was
-a monastery of German Franciscan nuns. A colony of poor German
-women in the middle of Italian lands! That was enough to decide
-the party to visit the monastery and greet their pious
-countrywomen in the language of home. But they found the
-sisterhood in evident distress. As they stood before the lattice,
-the history of the monastery was briefly related to them by the
-superior. It owed its origin to the patrician family Nocker of
-Munich, and according to the terms of its establishment was
-intended only for Germans, and more particularly for Bavarian
-maidens. Under Napoleon I. it was suspended, and the nuns were
-cared for in private dwellings, where, hoping for better times,
-they still continued, as well as they could, the practice of
-their vocation. These better times came. After the fall of the
-Napoleonic dynasty, the purchasers of the monastery consented to
-relinquish it, and the poor Franciscans could at least reoccupy
-the building.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101">{101}</a></span>
-But it went so hard with them, that they were sometimes obliged
-to ring the distress-bell, and the number of inmates diminished.
-At the time of the arrival of our three travellers, they numbered
-but twelve. An increase of numbers under such circumstances was
-hardly to be hoped for, and the existence of the monastery seemed
-again endangered. Municipal abolishment was threatened, with the
-unavoidable prospect to the nuns of being distributed among the
-various Italian monasteries. Now to maintain themselves as a
-German order was everything to these Franciscans; and thus the
-superior represented it to her travelling country-people, with
-all simple-heartedness, closing her narration with the entreaty
-that, on their return to Munich, they would not forget the little
-German monastery in Assisi, but care for it as they might be
-able, and cause younger sisters to come to them from Bavaria, in
-order to save the establishment from utter extinction.
-</p>
-<p>
-The three travellers took their leave filled with sympathy, and
-promising to bear in mind the petition of the superior. They
-commenced their homeward travel from Assisi, passed through Genoa
-and reached Munich again in November. Miss Linder vigorously
-recommenced her artistic occupations, filled with animation at
-her new experiences. But during the winter evenings the Italian
-trip often formed the topic of conversation in the Schlotthauer
-family, and generally closed with the question, How shall we
-manage to increase the number of candidates in the monastery at
-Assisi? But at that period this was not so easy. The secular
-spirit had spread itself broadly in German lands: the current of
-fresh, Catholic life flowed mostly in hidden courses. But with
-surprise they soon learned of its continued activity. Through one
-of those invisible channels which Providence avails itself of, in
-its own good time&mdash;in every-day life termed accident&mdash;the cry for
-help of the superior at Assisi penetrated to to a village where
-pious hearts were prepared for it. One day there came a letter
-for Professor Schlotthauer from Landshut, addressed to him by an
-unknown maiden of the humbler class named Therese Frish, stating
-that she had heard of the monastery at Assisi, and the request of
-the superior: in Landshut was a goodly number of young girls who
-had long cherished the desire in their hearts for convent life,
-and only waited for an opportunity to realize their wishes:
-several of them, some possessed of means, were ready at any
-moment to leave for Assisi. This was welcome intelligence, and
-the friends of the superior in Munich were not backward in
-performing their part. Thus in the spring they had the happiness
-of seeing a little band of candidates departing for Assisi. The
-monastery was rescued, and commenced from that time, through the
-ever-increasing sympathy in Germany, a new and beneficent career.
-From year to year, assisted by the people of Munich, there
-wandered true-hearted though indigent maidens to this quiet
-asylum of piety, to reach which, as Brentano wrote twelve years
-later, (1838,) was the dearest wish of these pious children.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her art trip had thus recompensed the maiden of Basle in a manner
-little dreamed of or counted on. The impression which this
-peculiar experience made upon her susceptible nature could not
-well be a transient one. The little monastery at Assisi&mdash;what
-could be more natural?&mdash;from thenceforth lay very closely to her
-heart, and its memories became most dear to her. The personality
-of the superior herself, her simple worth and naturalness,
-gratefully appealed to her; and several years later, on making
-her second Italian trip, she gladly revisited Assisi.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102">{102}</a></span>
-A friendly relation resulted, which, fostered by a regular
-correspondence, became more intimate every year. She now began to
-understand the true meaning of a voluntary Christian poverty: the
-contemplation of which must naturally make a profound impression
-upon a nature like hers. She had frequent occasion, by active
-assistance, to prove herself a warm friend of the monastery.
-Particularly at the time of the great earthquake, (1831,) when
-this monastery of women was in great want and distress, she stood
-by the nuns most generously. Ever after, indeed, she remained a
-constant benefactress of the German daughters of the holy St.
-Francis; and there, in the birth-place of the saint, was she most
-assiduously prayed for. In Assisi lay the earliest germ of her
-quietly-ripening, late-maturing conversion.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the year 1828, Miss Linder returned to her native city, Basle,
-in order to prepare for a more lengthened visit to Rome. Like
-every genuine artist-heart, a powerful influence attracted her to
-the ancient capital of art, to the eternal city. On her journey
-thither, she touched at Assisi, having the happiness to escort to
-the monastery of the Franciscans a new candidate from Munich and
-to find the nuns there in happiest tranquillity. Cornelius and
-Schlotthauer reported the same of them, when they passed through,
-a year and a half later. They received permission from the bishop
-to hold an interview with the German sisters in the claustral.
-The innocent joyousness and deep peace of the German nuns was
-very touching to them. The bishop gave the two artists the best
-testimony of them in his assurance that he constantly presented
-these pious Germans to their Italian sisters as an example for
-imitation.
-</p>
-<p>
-Accompanied with the nuns' blessing Miss Linder hastened toward
-the eternal city, where a new world opened itself to her. Bright,
-blissful days did she pass in Rome, and so well did it please
-her, that she remained there nearly three years. Here again her
-associates were the brightest spirits of the German art circle,
-and their similarity of aim induced a friendly geniality which in
-many ways enhanced the pleasure of her stay. Scholars and artists
-of the German colony sought her society with equal delight. Here
-she met Overbeck&mdash;that St. John among the artists&mdash;whose
-friendship to her and to her subsequent life was of such
-significance. Neher and Eberle received from her commissions.
-With the painter Ahlborn she read Dante. The venerable Koch was
-charmed with the society of the genial Swiss, and passed many a
-winter's evening with her. Also Thorwaldsen, Bunsen, and Platen
-were among her intimate acquaintance in Italy.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Rome Miss Linder made a trip to Naples and Sorrento. With a
-party of Germans, among whom was Platen, she passed there the
-summer of 1830. The wondrous poetry of the landscape and skies of
-Sorrento impressed with their fullest power the sensitive soul of
-the artist. All three arts, poetry, music, and painting, were
-brought into requisition to give adequate expression to her
-enchantment and delight. She became herself a poetess under the
-influence of all these glories, and described to her friends, who
-remained behind at Rome, with veritable southern warmth of
-coloring, her "captivating paradise." As in Rome she listened
-with the veneration of an intelligent musician to the ancient
-classic music of the Sistine chapel, so at the Bay of Naples she
-bestowed her attention upon the popular Italian ballads. Theirs
-was a genial company, and they sang much together; of their songs
-and melodies she made a collection, and took home with her.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103">{103}</a></span>
-Platen, in his subsequent letters, reminded her of those days,
-and, writing from Venice, requested of her the music of "triads
-and octaves," which they had sung together in Sorrento.
-</p>
-<p>
-On her return to Rome, late in the autumn of the same year, she
-found Cornelius and his family there, and the friendly relations
-which subsisted in Munich were warmly renewed. The presence of
-the honored master created, in the Roman art world, an animated
-and exhilarating activity, and the rest of her stay was thus
-enlivened in the most agreeable manner. The following year, in
-company with Cornelius, she started for home. It was hard
-parting, as finally, in July, 1831, with a wealth of beautiful
-and deep impressions, she bade farewell to the Hesperian land
-which had become so dear to her, to return to Basle; and we must
-not censure the artist that she found it difficult, as her
-letters indicate, to forget the blue skies of Italy and accustom
-herself again to the gray hues of the German heaven. The
-sharpness of the contrast gradually softened, however, and the
-old home feeling asserted itself. But the life in Rome remained a
-bright spot in her memory, and even in later years, when the
-conversation turned upon it, the habitually quiet lady became
-warm and animated.
-</p>
-<p>
-In Rome, on the other hand, the artists were equally loth to part
-with the aesthetic Swiss. The venerable Koch sent her word,
-through the the painter Eberle, how much he regretted that he
-could no longer pass his winter evenings with her. Overbeck and
-others held with her an animated correspondence. But she remained
-in hallowed remembrance with the German art-colony, from the
-assistance she rendered to youthful talent, and her encouragement
-by actual commissions. The historical painter Adam Eberle,
-particularly, a pupil of Cornelius, friend and countryman of
-Lasaulx&mdash;a highly gifted and lofty mind, but struggling in the
-deepest poverty&mdash;to him she proved a generous benefactress; and
-we can truly say, that through her goodness his last days&mdash;he
-died at Rome, 1832&mdash;were illumined with a final gleam of
-sunshine. The letters which she received from the youthful
-departed, partly during her stay in Rome, partly after her
-departure, give ample testimony of this, and indicate the manner,
-generally, of her benevolence in such cases. Immediately on their
-first meeting in Rome, and learning of his condition, she gave
-him a commission for an oil painting; with deep emotion he
-thanked the friendly lady "for the confidence she had thus
-reposed in a nameless painter." Subsequently she purchased also
-several drawings of Eberle, each, like the oil painting, of a
-religious nature; among others, one that she particularly prized,
-and afterward caused to be engraved, "Peter and Paul journeying
-to the Occident."
-</p>
-<p>
-On forwarding this drawing to Basle, together with another, the
-subject of which was taken from the Old Testament, "as the
-product of his muse since her departure," Eberle thus writes:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "What chiefly attracts me to these Bible subjects is the
-  healthy and unaffected language, which I endeavor to translate
-  into my art. Regard this work of mine as a study which is
-  necessary for my taste. That which is lacking in it, I know
-  full well, without the power of supplying it. Accept it,
-  therefore, as it is. Altogether bad it is not. At a very sad
-  period was it undertaken, and many a tear has fallen upon it,
-  which, like a vein of noble metal, seven times purified in its
-  earthen crucible, glistens through it. I have, indeed, some
-  assurance that I have not fruitlessly worked, in Overbeck's
-  judgment upon it, whom you saw at Bunsen's: and this not a
-  little cheers me."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104">{104}</a></span>
-<p>
-Her generous watchfulness wearied not in rescuing him, at the
-times of his greatest need, and Eberle, with overflowing
-gratitude, testified to these constant proofs of her goodness,
-and, even more, to the great delicacy and the kindly words which
-accompanied every act.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her personal intercourse at Rome seemed also to have exerted a
-favorable influence upon his religious sentiments. The taste for
-mystical writings which, encouraged by Baader, she was
-cultivating at that period, grew also upon him; and when, shortly
-after her departure, Lasaulx came to Rome, Eberle was very happy
-that he could continue with him this favorite and elevating
-study. He writes to her at Basle on the 25th of September, 1831:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "An old friend of my youth and countryman of mine, C. Lasaulx,
-  is now my almost exclusive companion: he will probably remain
-  the winter here and share my dwelling with me. He is, as you
-  know, a zealous disciple of Schelling, is deeply versed in the
-  new philosophy, and, what to me is of still more value, in the
-  mysticism of the middle ages. I rejoice to have gained in him
-  some compensation for the loss of your society; yet I cannot
-  share the expectations which he bases upon the new philosophy.
-  Although my acquaintance with him has divested me of many a
-  former prejudice, I find myself, nevertheless, attracted only
-  the more to the 'one thing needful,' assured that only at the
-  fountain of living waters, Jesus Christ, can our thirst be
-  quenched."
-</p>
-<p>
-He adds, however, concerning his friend:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Lasaulx has nevertheless a very substantial Christian basis,
-  and if ever his <i>Knowing</i> goes hand in hand with his
-  <i>Willing</i>, and his <i>Willing</i> with his <i>Knowing</i>,
-  we may certainly expect something very sterling from him."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was Lasaulx himself who communicated the news to their mutual
-friend, in Germany, of the sudden death of Eberle. Eberle's plan
-had been to pass yet a year in Rome, then return to Germany, and,
-seeking again the sheltering wing of his master, Cornelius, in
-Munich, there to close his art-wanderings. Thus he himself wrote
-in a letter of the 7th of March, 1832. But a month later he was
-no more. He succumbed to a disease of the stomach. Shortly before
-his death, Miss Linder had cheered the invalid by a remittance.
-On the 24th of April, 1832, Lasaulx thus wrote from Rome:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Our friend Adam Eberle, at five o'clock in the afternoon of
-  the 15th of April, after a hard death-struggle, recovered from
-  the malady of this life. Good-Friday morning we bore him home.
-  Three days before his death he had the great joy of receiving
-  your last letter, and that which your love enclosed with it. He
-  was one of the few whose souls are washed in the blood of the
-  Lamb, offered from the beginning of the world. The Lamentations
-  and the Miserere of the divine old masters Palestrini and
-  Allrgri which you begged our friend to listen to for you, I
-  have listened to for both of you."
-</p>
-<p>
-Munich had now so grown upon the affections of the artiste that
-she again removed thither from Basle in 1832. After her life in
-Rome, a residence in the German art-metropolis could not but be a
-necessity to her, and the Bavarian capital was thenceforth her
-home. Her house became more and more the peaceful abode of the
-fine arts. Her fortune enabled her, by a succession of
-commissions, gradually to collect a wealth of pictures and
-drawings in which the Corypheans of Christian art were
-represented. Among these Overbeck took the foremost place with a
-series of subjects from the Evangelists, the choicest of
-drawings, which during a period of thirty years gradually came
-into her possession. A beautiful oil painting by Overbeck, which
-she esteemed most highly, "The death of St. Joseph," was also
-produced at this time, an elevated delineation of the death of
-the just. From Cornelius she secured three cartoons of the wall
-pictures in the Louis-church, ("The Creation,") in which this
-mighty intellect was worthily represented.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105">{105}</a></span>
-In like manner an altar-piece by Conrad Eberhard, one of the most
-thoughtful compositions of this admirable master, and intended
-originally for one of the new church edifices of King Louis, took
-its place among the gems of this house&mdash;just as the venerable
-master himself, in all his purity of soul and pious simplicity,
-took his place high in the friendship of the hostess.
-</p>
-<p>
-Next to painting, the two sister arts, poetry and music, were
-specially cultivated in the home of the artist. She had a clear
-perception of the true and elevated in poetry, and kept pace,
-even to old age, with the literary productions of the new era.
-Her own poetic effusions were confined to the eye of her more
-intimate friends; but there were some poems upon which Brentano
-himself placed high value. Her library was a choice one, and her
-knowledge of languages kept her acquainted with the best
-productions of the modern cultivated nations. Her aesthetic and
-scientific acquirements became her well, inasmuch as the
-cultivation of the mind and of the heart with her kept even pace.
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Linder applied herself to music in full earnest. She not
-only practised several instruments&mdash;the aeolodicon and harp were
-always seen in her drawing-room&mdash;but she had herself instructed
-by Ett in thorough-bass and the history of music. She followed
-his instructions in harmony with practical exercises. In musical
-history it was the religious department again which most appealed
-to her: her researches went back to the earliest times, the
-development of the true church style, and for the unfolding of
-this subject she had found in Ett the right man. Moreover, she
-stood in friendly exchange of views with Proske of Regensburg, a
-profound student of ancient church music. Sometimes musical
-gatherings were held, to which Ett brought singing-boys from the
-choir of St. Michael's Church: ancient religious cantatas, the
-compositions of Orlando di Lasso, Handel, Abbé Vogler's hymns,
-and the like, were performed. Conrad Eberhard, an enthusiastic
-admirer of music and of the master Ett, who with Schlotthauer
-regularly attended the historical lectures on music, in his
-ninetieth year spoke with loving recollection of these ennobling
-evenings at Miss Linder's.
-</p>
-<p>
-By this varied and earnest devotion to art, as well as artistic
-and scientific enterprises, to which she constantly brought
-willing and generous offerings, her life began to assume more and
-more an ideal significance, and to gain that expansiveness of
-horizon and completeness which secured for her a position in
-society as peculiar as it was agreeable. If we would ask what it
-was that identified this quiet spirit with so distinguished a
-circle and made her house a rendezvous for scholars and artists,
-in which the most brilliant and the most profound so gladly met,
-the explanation would be just this&mdash;it was the awakened
-intelligence which she brought to all intellectual topics, the
-simple-hearted abandonment to the views of great minds, the
-readiness with which she recognized and admired the true and the
-beautiful in all things. It was equally the unselfish,
-uncalculating enthusiasm, and the perfect purity of soul, which
-compelled the respect of all. An unvarying geniality blended with
-a quiet earnestness; a clear intelligence with a golden goodness;
-a profound view of life in all its phases, from the very heights
-of a sunny existence&mdash;herein resided the gentle attractiveness
-with which she drew to herself the sympathies of the noblest
-souls and held them fast.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106">{106}</a></span>
-<p>
-A character of such a type is best reflected in its friends. Her
-life for the most part flowed on so quietly and evenly that it
-rose clearly to the view of only those who were nearest to her.
-It seems, therefore, befitting that from among her many friends
-we should select a few who, like her, are now at rest, and
-mention some of their salient characteristics.
-</p>
-<p>
-The foremost place is due to the painter-prince of the new
-art-epoch himself, Cornelius&mdash;who was a friend from her very
-youth, and only a few months after her, even in these latter
-days, closed his earthly pilgrimage. The fame of the man and the
-sense of his loss, still so freshly felt, will justify us in
-dwelling somewhat more at length on him and his letters. It was,
-indeed, the opinion of Emily Linder, toward the close of her
-life, that the letters which she had received from Cornelius
-might some day be of use in his biography.
-</p>
-<p>
-At the time Miss Linder started from Munich upon her journey to
-Switzerland and Italy, her relations with the family of the
-celebrated painter had already become so intimate, that it was
-continued in correspondence. Ordinarily it was an Italian-German
-or double letter, from Carolina and Peter Cornelius, which
-greeted her; they both recall, with friendly warmth, her
-residence in Munich, and the message, "We miss you!" was
-repeatedly wafted after her as she remained longer away. Frau
-Carolina Cornelius evinced for her a very tender attachment. The
-genial master himself honored her with confidences from time to
-time, as to his artistic plans and undertakings. Particularly was
-this the case when he was commissioned to prepare designs for the
-Louis-church in Munich, whereby he saw the early realization of a
-long-cherished and favorite idea of his; when the history of
-mankind in grand outline, the creation, the redemption, the
-sending of the Holy Ghost to the church, the last judgment,
-presented itself to his mind. Then he felt impelled to open his
-heart to his absent friend, and the postscript, which he appended
-to a letter of his wife, rises into a veritable dithyrambic. He
-writes on the 20th of January, 1829:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I cannot better close this letter than by communicating a
-  thing which transports me and in which you, my dear friend,
-  will sympathize. Fancy my good fortune! After completing the
-  <i>Glyptothek</i>, I am to paint a church. It is now sixteen
-  years that I have been going about with the idea of a Christian
-  epic in painting&mdash;a painted <i>comoedia divina</i>&mdash;and I have
-  had hours, and longer periods, when it seemed I had a special
-  mission for this. And now my heavenly love comes like a bride
-  in all her beauty to me&mdash;what mortal after this can I envy? The
-  universe opens itself before my eyes: I see heaven, earth, and
-  hell; I see the past, the present, and the future; I stand on
-  Sinai and gaze upon the new Jerusalem; I am inebriated and yet
-  composed. All my friends must pray for me, and you, my dear
-  Emily. With brotherly love greets you CORNELIUS."
-</p>
-<p>
-The artistic heroism of this soul&mdash;this man whose ideas grasped
-the world&mdash;breathes in these lines with certainly wonderful
-freshness. In other letters of this happy period his natural
-humor gains the ascendant, and he indulges in sallies of mirth,
-afterward begging her indulgence and a friendly remembrance of
-"the crazy painter Peter Cornelius." Her replies were in a
-simpler and graver tone, but full of that refreshing
-independence, which appeared to a nature like his more than aught
-else. She allowed his geniality full play without compromising
-her sincerity, or her dignity. He is thus both "charmed and
-edified" by her letters, and once made the remark of them, "All
-that your personality led me to fancy of the beautiful and the
-good finds more artless, more forcible and vivid expression in
-your letters.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107">{107}</a></span>
-It becomes you uncommonly well, whenever you fairly assert
-yourself."
-</p>
-<p>
-In the year 1831 the cholera threatened, for a time, to visit
-Munich. The preparations of the sanitary authorities to meet this
-uncomfortable guest were already completed. Miss Linder was in
-Basle, and sent thence a friendly invitation to Cornelius and his
-family to take refuge at her domestic hearth. The knightly
-response of the master, dated Munich, 15th of November 1831, is
-as follows:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Your friendly suggestion from the shelter of your hospitable
-  hearth to laugh at the cholera, and by the same opportunity,
-  perhaps, to reproduce a <i>Decameron</i>, corresponding
-  thereto, has an indescribable attraction for me, and I should
-  have acted upon it had I not been afraid to be afraid. From
-  sheer cowardice at the possible death of my honor, I must stand
-  the cartridges of the cholera. From the spot where my king and
-  so many admirable and honorable men stand their ground, must
-  Cornelius never run away. You will take in good part the
-  informality of this letter from your fanciful friend, yet he
-  craves of you an <i>indulgenza plenaria</i> while he ends with
-  the bold declaration that he indescribably loves and honors you.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                                        P. V. CORNELIUS."
-</p>
-<p>
-At this period an idea seized Cornelius, which long occupied his
-attention, namely, to record the noteworthy incidents of his own
-eventful artist-life; a plan which certainly would have enriched
-literature by at least one original work and have proved of
-inestimable value to the history of modern art. Unfortunately,
-the plan was never carried out; but it affords a proof of his
-high esteem for his friend that Cornelius intended the memoirs to
-be written in the form of letters addressed to her, as will
-appear from the two following letters. They are written under the
-influence of the same exuberant spirits in which the grand
-conception of his "Christian epic" had placed him:
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-       "Munich, February 12, 1832.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Very Dear Friend: This is not meant as an answer to the
-  welcome and beautiful letter which you sent me through H.
-  Hauser; it is only a slight expression of my gratitude and my
-  great delight at the kindliness and the loyal friendship which
-  your dear letter breathes for me, unworthy. I have lately been
-  asking myself why this letter-writing, which, as you and all
-  the world knows, is a horror to me, since my correspondence
-  with you has set me back into that happy period when one can
-  write an entire library and yet not be satisfied. Had I more
-  leisure, I would carry out an old project to write the history
-  of my life in letter-form, after the manner of many French
-  memoirs, and addressed to you. Although for the present this is
-  not to be thought of, I by no means abandon the plan.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Heroes and artists&mdash;in the most liberal way of viewing
-  it&mdash;have their truest and clearest appreciation in the pure
-  souls of women. Only Hebe might serve the nectar to Alcides;
-  only Beatrice conducts the singer into Paradise; Tasso's
-  delirium is a vague searching in a labyrinth where Ariadne's
-  thread is broken; Michael Angelo would have been as great a
-  painter as was Dante a poet had Beatrice opened heaven to him;
-  Raphael's thousand-feathered Psyche bore a material maiden into
-  the realm of the stars; her human blood enkindled his and slew
-  him. When I write my memoirs, you will see how it has gone with
-  me in this respect. In the mean time I allow you a peep through
-  the keyhole of my private drawer&mdash;it is a poor poem of my
-  youth, which as penance you must read, because you mockingly
-  called me a poet. [Footnote 45]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 45: It is truly a very youthful poem,
-    addressed "To the Muse," commencing:<br>
-      "Confided have I alone<br>
-       in thee, O Muse," etc. ED.]
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I know not why I send these poor stanzas to you; it appears to
-  me as though you exercised some charm over the spirits of my
-  life, who must perforce appear before you. Perhaps one of these
-  days this letter might serve for a dedication to the book in
-  question, because, like an overture, it contains in itself the
-  leading motive. Now farewell, and take no offence at this gay
-  carnival-arabesque, The ladies of my family heartily greet you:
-  we have good news from Rome. Heaven bless you, vouchsafe you
-  cheerfulness and bliss, and bring you soon to us.  Meantime,
-  however, write soon, and often send tidings
-  to your most devoted friend,
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                           "P. Cornelius."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108">{108}</a></span>
-<p>
-Four months later, he reverts to the same subject, on the
-occasion of sending to her, while at Basle, a sketch of his
-latest composition for the walls of the Louis-church, ("The
-Epiphany,") accompanying which he writes:
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                                        Munich, June 21, 1832.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Herewith you find a little sketch of a drawing just completed
-  for a large cartoon (the corresponding piece to the
-  Crucifixion,) and instead of interpreting it to you, I beg your
-  own interpretation of it; it would have such a charm for me to
-  read in your mind my own conceptions ennobled and beautified.
-  What coquetry! I hear you laughingly say; and yet I hope to be
-  pardoned. If it be true that artists have many feelings in
-  common with women, those which prompt us to try to please those
-  we love should meet with some indulgence.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I occupy myself often, on my lonely walks, with the plan of my
-  intended memoirs; the material begins to assume shape; but
-  unless you apply to it the finishing touch, it will not be
-  presentable. I never could bring myself to entrust it to other
-  hands. In the retrospect of my life I find the material more
-  abundant than I had supposed. Very difficult will be the
-  shaping of much of it. How easily does many a tie and relation
-  in this life lose its true coloring and significance by
-  omissions; and yet must these very often occur, if the work is
-  to appear during my lifetime. Before beginning to write, I
-  shall communicate to you, orally, dearest friend, some portions
-  of the memoirs, and we can then discuss them at leisure&mdash;a
-  welcome plan to me, for thus will the undertaking fairly ripen.
-  With inmost respect and love, your devoted
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                                      "Peter Von Cornelius."
-</p>
-<p>
-Finally, it may be allowable to make mention of a letter which he
-addresses to her from Rome, on the 12th of October, 1833, while
-he was working on his drawing of the Last Judgment. In this
-letter we recognize his playful, working humor&mdash;and does he not
-term these periods of creative activity his wedding time? In
-several remarks, however, we discern both sides of his nature.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "My Noble Friend: It is really too bad! has he not yet written?
-  not even answered that charming letter from Salzburg? Well, I
-  must say, I am curious to see how he will justify himself.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Thus I hear Schlotthauer exclaim; even Schubert ominously
-  shakes his head; but you are silent and thoughtful. I should be
-  in despair for an excuse for myself, having already shot off my
-  best arrows at you on similar occasions, exhausted my adroitest
-  terms&mdash;my best rhetoric. I say I should be in despair, if that
-  stupendous, that tremendous thing, 'The Last Judgment,' did not
-  take me under its protecting wing. Never has a man, probably,
-  with more sublimity asked pardon of a lady! And now, laying the
-  universe at your feet, I await composedly my sentence. From
-  this moment is my tongue loosed; and I can say to you that I am
-  celebrating my blissfullest time&mdash;my wedding time&mdash;the harvest
-  season of my holiest aspirations. How few mortals attain to
-  such happiness! and how ill-calculated is this world to afford
-  it!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-   "Gladly would I show you the work I am at present engaged
-   upon. Yet for a nature so quiet as yours, you appear to me far
-   too forcible and positive. Overbeck must love you a thousand
-   fold more than I: with me you suffer indulgence to take the
-   place of impartial justice. How I once fretted about such
-   things!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "What a treasure is a deep, positively incurable pain! Better
-  than the most unalloyed bliss which this poor world has to
-  offer, it brings us near to the Holy One. It is more faithful,
-  far less variable. It draws us into solitude, into ourselves.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "You surmise, doubtless, what I mean. Daily do I thank Heaven
-  that through you such knowledge was to come to me. This is
-  bitter medicine; administered, to a child, upon sweet fruit.
-  But why do I entertain you with such trivialities? In all books
-  of all nations we read the same thing; and yet when the poor
-  human heart is pressed with its heavy burthen, it feels just as
-  profoundly and acutely as in the very days of Troy itself; and
-  the utterances of joy and of love, like those of pain, are ever
-  new and their method inexhaustible; ever does one cast himself
-  upon the breast of a loving, sympathetic soul.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109">{109}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Accept for the moment this confused scribble and remain
-  friendly and well-disposed toward me. Continue to peep through
-  my fingers, and leave me just five of them. I claim to myself,
-  however, the privilege of an unlimited love and veneration for
-  you. My entire household and all your friends send heartfelt
-  greeting; foremost of all, however, your
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                                           P. V. CORNELIUS."
-
-</p>
-<p>
-The correspondence was interrupted when Cornelius removed to
-Berlin; but not the friendship, which endured to the end. Nor did
-the exchange of letters cease entirely; so that the ink-shy
-master once asserted in Berlin, that he had written to no lady so
-often as to her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among the earliest acquaintances of Emily Linder, was Father
-Franz von Baader; as the nine letters indicate, which were
-addressed to her, and published in the complete works of Baader.
-The first of these was dated as early as the 25th of May, 1825,
-therefore at the commencement of her residence in Munich; and the
-contents indicate the immediate cause of their mutual attraction.
-This letter has somewhat the nature of a memorial, in which the
-philosopher draws a parallel between the art of painting and the
-God-like art of benevolence; closing with the following words:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Herewith commends himself to Miss Emily Linder&mdash;she who
-  rendered her memory so dear, so imperishable to him by an act
-  kindness performed at his request to a poor family&mdash;
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                                                  Franz Baader."
-</p>
-<p>
-The tie between them therefore lay in the admirable activity of
-that quality by which Emily Linder quietly accomplished so
-much&mdash;a high-hearted love for her neighbor.
-</p>
-<p>
-From that time forward Baader regularly sent her his pamphlets
-and works, and we can appreciate to what extent he tasked her
-intellect when he forwarded her a copy of his <i>Speculative
-Dogma or, Social-Philosophic Treatise</i>. He regarded it as a
-pleasant duty to acquaint her from time to time with his literary
-labors: and she spared herself to no trouble to follow even such
-grave and abstruse topics. He succeeded in specially interesting
-her in Jacob Böhme. Her intelligent remarks on Baader's article
-upon the doctrine of justification led him to remark that her
-letter afforded him a more satisfactory proof than many a
-criticism that he had succeeded in reaching both the head and the
-heart. In the year 1831, Baader dedicated to her a philosophic
-paper entitled <i>Forty Propositions from a Religious
-Exotic</i>," (Munich: Franz, 1831.) In the brief dedication of
-this "little work on great subjects" we read, "While you in
-ancient Rome are dedicating heart, soul, eye, and hand to art, it
-may not be unwelcome to you to hear over the stormy Alps a
-friendly voice, reminding you of that holy alliance of the three
-graces of a better and eternal life, Religion, Speculation, and
-Poetry, adding to these also, Painting." In the letter which
-accompanies this pamphlet he places before her the leading
-thoughts of the little work in a lucid manner:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "When the teachers of religion say that the whole Christian
-  faith rests upon the knowledge and conviction that God is love;
-  and that in this religion the love of God, of man, of nature,
-  is made a duty; so that, in fact, a oneness of love and duty is
-  announced, it would seem seasonable this unloving and
-  duty-forgetful age so to present the identity of these two,
-  love and duty, that mankind can discern the laws of religion in
-  those of love, and those of love in religion; which, I trust,
-  has been done in this pamphlet in a new, albeit rather a
-  homoeopathic manner."
-</p>
-<p>
-Next to Baader is to be named his intellectual son-in-law, Ernst
-von Lasaulx. He started, in the same year that Emily Linder left
-Rome, upon his long journey through Italy and Greece, to the
-Orient. They met in Florence, the 27th of July, 1831, and he
-promised the artist a description of his travels.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110">{110}</a></span>
-In conformity with this promise ensued a series of letters
-recording his experiences and impressions in Greece and the
-promised land, fresh and warm to a degree seldom found, and full
-of classic beauty. By whom could antiquity be better realized to
-this art-enthusiast than by Lasaulx, the zealous student of
-Grecian art-history, and equally a master of artistic prose!
-Poetic sensibility and literary clearness go refreshingly hand in
-hand in these letters; now in a description of his rides to that
-"eloquent rock-architecture" of Cyclopean edifices, the Titanic
-walls of the Acropolis of Tiryns and Mikene; or his solitary
-wanderings among the prostrate, ruined glories strewn from
-Corinth to Magara and Athens. At the first view of distant
-Athens, the Acropolis and the Parthenon, the temple of Theseus
-and the city behind the dark olive-woods he exclaims:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Here is Greece, all of a departed glory worthy of the name,
-  which the noiseless waste of time and the insane fury of man
-  has left to the after-world. Never in my experience, and in no
-  other city, have I known such emotions. It is as though my
-  heart were turned into an AEolian harp, and the night winds
-  were sighing through its broken strings."
-</p>
-<p>
-Despite all his predilections, however, for the classic land, he
-did not suffer himself to be deceived as to a new Greece by the
-occasion of the 12th of April, 1833, when he was present at the
-formal surrender of the Acropolis to the Bavarian troops, when
-Osman Effendi withdrew the Turkish forces, and the Bavarian
-commander, Baligand, planted the Greek flag upon the northern
-rampart. He remarks, in this description:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It was a remarkable spectacle; the noisy, confused crowd of
-  Turks, Greeks, Bavarians and whatever other inquisitive Franks
-  had collected in the dusky colonnades of the Parthenon. As I
-  could not bring myself to any faith in the regeneration of
-  Greece, the rampant irony of this insane funeral wake only
-  added to my deep depression."
-</p>
-<p>
-Written in the year 1833, and, hardly ten years later, what
-confirmation!
-</p>
-<p>
-Glorious passages does the traveller indite to his distant friend
-over his pilgrimage through Palestine; profound melancholy at the
-present condition of the holy land; devout emotions amid holy
-places. On entering Jerusalem, Sunday, September 15. 1833, he
-says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Burning tears and a cold shudder of the heart were the first,
-  God grant not the only, tributes which I offered for his love
-  and that of his Son."
-</p>
-<p>
-His delineations inspired his friend with a holy longing, and she
-entertained for some time afterward the idea of a journey to the
-holy land. She had, indeed, made preparations (1836) for a
-pilgrimage thither in company with Schubert, and only
-considerations of health compelled her at last to abandon the
-plan.
-</p>
-<p>
-Subsequently, at the close of his life, Lasaulx crowned his
-friendship for Miss Linder with a special literary tribute. He
-dedicated to her his last great work, <i>The Philosophy of the
-Fine Arts, Architecture, Sculpture, Painting, Music, Poetry,
-Prose</i>, (Munich, 1860.) As though from a presentiment of his
-death, he felt impelled to bring his esthetic studies to a close,
-sensible as he was that here and there were still omissions to
-supply. But the book is the thoughtful labor of many years, and a
-masterwork of style. In the dedication, which serves as preface,
-and which was written in the Bavarian inn, at Castle Lebenberg,
-in the Tyrol, on the 25th of September, 1859, after speaking of
-the origin of the work, he refers, in the following words, to his
-friend:
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111">{111}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "That I dedicate this work particularly to you will be found
-  natural enough on a moment's self-examination. I met you, for
-  the first time, thirty years ago, at Munich, in a delightful
-  circle of friendly men and women, so many of whom are
-  constantly departing from us, that those who are still left
-  have to move nearer and nearer to each other at your hospitable
-  table. A few years later, I saw you in Florence again, as you
-  came from Rome and I went thither. The death of our
-  early-maturing friend, Adam Eberle, resulted in an association
-  with you as a correspondent, and since then you have proved to
-  me, my wife and daughter, both in bright and gloomy days, so
-  dear and true a friend, that it is now a necessity with me to
-  express my gratitude to you, even with this very work, whose
-  subjects are so akin to your own studies, and in writing which,
-  at this fortress of Lebenberg, I have so often thought of you
-  and our mutual friends, dead and living, chiefest among whom
-  should to yourself this book be a tribute."
-</p>
-<p>
-A year and a half later, the noble and true soul of Lasaulx had
-passed, and his grateful friend founded for him a memorial after
-her own peculiar taste, the pious memorial of a stated mass for
-his soul.
-</p>
-<p>
-An early friend, also, and one true till death, was Gotthilf
-Heinrich von Schubert, who met Miss Linder shortly after he was
-called to the University of Munich. The amiable personality of
-this <i>savant</i> of child-like nature particularly appealed to
-her. His fundamental views of religion accorded with her own; and
-therefore, the elements of a spiritual harmony were already at
-hand. Miss Linder was associated with his family during the
-period of an entire human life, in the closest and purest
-friendship, which particularly one test safely withstood&mdash;that of
-her conversion. In his autobiography, Schubert alludes, in a few
-words, to this friend of his household; and the comparison he
-draws between her and the Princess Gallitzin shows how high a
-position he accorded her. Speaking of the circle of friends in
-which he chiefly moved, he mentions the names of Roth, Puchta,
-Schnorr, Cornelius, Ringseis, Schlotthauer, Boisseree,
-Schwanthaler, and then remarks:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The gathering-point of many of these friends was the house of
-  the noble Swiss, Emily. At all times and in all places, in
-  larger as in smaller social circles, will each with pleasure
-  thus recall that grand life-picture, which was similarly
-  presented to a former generation at Münster, in the fair friend
-  of Hamann, of Stolberg, of Claudius."
-</p>
-<p>
-Emily Linder was certainly the first, in her deep humility, to
-deprecate such a comparison; but it is for both equally
-creditable that the venerable sage felt constrained to bear such
-testimony, even after her union with the Catholic Church.
-</p>
-<p>
-Next to the testimony of scholars and artists, we will finally
-quote an opinion from a female writer, a literary lady of the
-higher walks of life. In the summer of 1841, came Emma von
-Niendorf to Munich. She was in friendly relation with Schubert
-and Brentano, and, several years later, recorded her
-reminiscences of those sunny days at Munich in a lively and
-imaginative little work. At Schubert's she formed the
-acquaintance of Emily Linder, and was attracted closely to her.
-She refers to her in glowing and expressive terms, depicting this
-art-loving woman in the repose of her home:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "A noble Swiss, and for this reason remarkable, that, fortified
-  by exterior means and the most positive convictions, she
-  presented to me an ideal existence in a ripe and unwedded old
-  age, having achieved happiness. She lived only for science, for
-  art, for all that is beautiful and good. But everything was
-  illumined with the glory of a genuine Christian spirit. And how
-  this spirit reflected itself in all her surroundings!
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112">{112}</a></span>
-   I shall never forget it; the sitting-room, with work-basket,
-   books, flowers, harp, drawings by Overbeck; a drawing-room
-   separating these from a little house-chapel, which a painting
-   of Overbeck also embellished. And, where the organ awaited the
-   skilful fingers, a Madonna of the school of Leonardo da Vinci
-   smiled from the wall, while the little side-altar encased a
-   drawing of Albrecht Dürer. I found, also, in the house of this
-   lady a portrait of Maria Mori, in the Tyrol, admirably drawn
-   by her friend, the well-known lady artist, Ellenrieder,
-   somewhat idealized; a profile, with folded hands; long, brown,
-   down-flowing hair; the large, dark eye full of devotion, full
-   of sensibility, the <i>stigmata</i> in the hands not to be
-   forgotten. &hellip; This lady is a Protestant. The deepest coloring
-   of her soul is, perhaps, shading toward Catholicism; yet she
-   doubtless finds satisfying harmonies in the Gospel. By one of
-   those wonderful providences which life is so full of, this
-   earnest soul was planted between two strongly pronounced
-   natures&mdash;two opposite polarities of friendship, both deep and
-   sincere&mdash;Clemens Brentano and Schubert, who were on equal
-   terms of intimacy with her."
-</p>
-<p>
-At the very time Emma von Niendorf put her work to press, she
-knew not that the lady to whom these lines referred had already
-attained that toward which "the deepest coloring of her soul
-seemed to be shading." Emily Linder had sought and found
-"satisfying harmonies" in the faith of the one, universal,
-apostolic church.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-          Conclusion In The Next Number.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-     <h2>Xavier De Ravignan.</h2>
-
-<p class="center_close">
-	 [Footnote 46]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 46: <i>The Life of Father de Ravignan, of the
-    Society of Jesus</i>. By Father de Ponlevoy, of the same
-    Society. Translated at St. Beuno's College, North Wales.
-    12mo, pp. 693. New York: The Catholic Publication Society.
-    1869.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Father De Ponlevoy's life of his friend and colleague, the
-celebrated orator of Notre Dame, violates many of the canons of
-biographical composition, and is nevertheless an admirable book.
-As a narrative, it lacks clearness and symmetry; but as a picture
-of the interior of a great and beautiful soul, it is wonderfully
-vivid. It could only have been written by one who sympathized
-completely with the subject, and understood the interior
-illuminations and trials, and the complete detachment from the
-world, which distinguished the illustrious preacher whose fame at
-one time filled all Catholic Europe. Father de Ponlevoy has given
-us therefore a valuable work. He has looked at De Ravignan's life
-from the right point of view&mdash;the only point in fact from which
-it offers any important material to the biographer. In a worldly
-sense, the life was not an eventful one. He came of a noble yet
-hardly a distinguished family, who preserved their faith in the
-midst of the storm of revolution, and brought up their children
-to love the church. Gustave Xavier was born at Bayonne on the 1st
-of December, 1795. As a child he was remarkable for a gravity and
-intelligence far beyond his years, a warm affection for his
-parents, and a very pious disposition. After completing his
-school and college education in Paris, he resolved to devote
-himself to the law, and at the age of eighteen entered the office
-of M. Goujon, a jurist of some distinction at the capital. He had
-scarcely begun his studies, however, when France was thrown into
-confusion by the return of Napoleon from Elba.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113">{113}</a></span>
-The young man threw down his books, enlisted in a company of
-royalist volunteers, and after preparing himself for the campaign
-by receiving holy communion, marched with his command toward the
-Spanish frontier. His company belonged to that unlucky detachment
-under General Barbarin, which was surprised and cut to pieces at
-Hélette, in the Lower Pyrénées. General Barbarin fell, severely
-wounded, and would have fallen into the enemy's hands, when De
-Ravignan rushed forward through the fire and attempted to carry
-him off the field. It was a generous but desperate act, which
-would have led to the sacrifice of both. Barbarin saw the danger
-of the young hero, and, freeing one of his arms, shot himself
-through the head. Covered with the blood of his unfortunate
-commander, Gustave sought safety in flight, wandered afoot and
-alone through the Basque country, in the disguise of a peasant,
-and, after many hardships and escapes, rejoined the army on
-Spanish soil. He now received a commission as lieutenant of
-cavalry, and was attached to the staff of the Count de Damas, who
-sent him on a confidential mission to Bordeaux. Before he had any
-further opportunity of winning distinction, the war was over, and
-although tempting offers were made him to continue in the army,
-he determined to adhere to the law, and was soon hard at work
-again. The indomitable resolution, amounting even to sternness,
-which distinguished him in after life, was already one of his
-most remarkable characteristics. Whatever he did, was done with
-all his might. He studied with the most intense application, and,
-not satisfied with the reading necessary for his profession,
-applied himself closely to the German and English languages, and
-such lighter accomplishments as drawing and music. In due time he
-was appointed a <i>conseiller auditeur</i> in the royal court of
-Paris, then under the presidency of Séguier. The influence of the
-Duke d'Angoulême got him the appointment&mdash;not, however, without
-some difficulty&mdash;and his colleagues received him coldly. He
-awaited his time in patience, beginning each day by hearing Mass,
-and studying thoroughly, systematically, and indefatigably. At
-last, one day when the advocates happened to be out of court, a
-civil cause of a very tedious nature was unexpectedly called. The
-president turned, rather maliciously, to De Ravignan, and handed
-him the papers, saying, "Let us see for once what can be done by
-this young gentleman, whose acquaintance we have yet to make." On
-the appointed day the "young gentleman" presented a clear and
-logical report, and delivered it with a perfection of utterance
-which caused the whole court to listen with astonishment. His
-success at the bar was assured from that moment, and soon
-afterward he was appointed deputy <i>procureur général</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-His life at this time presents a curious and instructive study.
-He devoted a part of each day regularly to religious exercises;
-he was a zealous member of a Sodality of the Blessed Virgin; he
-had already in fact formed the idea of entering the priesthood,
-if not of joining the Society of Jesus. But while he remained in
-the world, he never neglected his professional pursuits, he
-mingled freely in society, and showed himself, in the true sense
-of the term, an accomplished gentleman. He was a great favorite
-in company. "In him," says Father de Ponlevoy, "interior and
-exterior were in perfect harmony. It would be impossible to
-imagine a more perfect type of a young man: the expression of his
-countenance was excellent, his forehead high and full of dignity,
-his features fine and characteristic, his eyes deep and blue, by
-turns animated and affectionate, his figure slight and graceful.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114">{114}</a></span>
-To this picture must be added scrupulous attention to person and
-dress, perfect politeness, and a nameless something, the
-reflection of a lofty mind, a great intellect, and a pure and
-affectionate heart." Many years afterward, when he visited
-London, to preach at the time of the World's Fair, one of the
-principal Protestant noblemen of England said of him, "He is the
-most finished gentleman I ever saw." His modesty, like many of
-his other virtues, leaned toward severity. At a great
-dinner-party one day, before he had embraced the religious life,
-he was placed next a young lady whose dress was rather too
-scanty. He sat stiff and silent until the unlucky girl ventured
-to ask, "M. de Ravignan, have you no appetite?" He replied in a
-half-whisper, "And you, Mdlle., have you no shame?"
-</p>
-<p>
-He was twenty-six years of age when, after a retreat of eight
-days, he entered the Seminary of Saint Sulpice. The resolution
-had been gradually formed, yet it took everybody except his
-mother and his spiritual director by surprise. His professional
-friends and associates did all they could to draw him back to the
-world. They sought out his retreat, and went after him in crowds.
-"Ah!" he exclaimed, when he saw them, "I have made my escape from
-you."
-</p>
-<p>
-De Ravignan remained only six months in the seminary, and then
-removed to the novitiate of the Society of Jesus, for which he
-had made no secret of his preference. The life of a novice offers
-little matter for the biographer. We are only told that his
-course here was distinguished by a devotion which approached
-heroism, a zeal that tended toward excess, and a strictness that
-was often too hard and stern. Throughout his life, severity
-toward himself, far more than toward others, was his principal
-defect; but as years went on, this rigidity of character, always
-more apparent than real, disappeared little by little in the
-sunshine of divine love. He never spared himself in anything. He
-surpassed all in his ambition for humiliation and suffering; the
-only trouble was, that he sometimes went too far in attempting to
-lead weaker brethren by the hard path he himself had trodden. A
-novice once asked somebody for advice, and was recommended to
-apply to Brother de Ravignan. "In that case," he rejoined, "I
-know beforehand what I must do: I have only to choose the most
-difficult course." In the scholasticate, he was known by the
-<i>sobriquet</i> of "Iron Bar." When the time came for his
-admission to holy orders, after nearly four years passed in the
-scholasticate at Paris and at Dôle, he was sent with five other
-candidates to the Diocesan Seminary at Orgelet, where the
-sacrament of ordination was to be administered. Before the party
-set out, Brother de Ravignan was appointed superior for the
-journey. His companions were seized with fear when they heard who
-had been placed in charge over them; but their alarm was
-groundless. "Nothing," said one of the company, "could exceed the
-kindness, the affability, the attentiveness to small wants, the
-simple joy of the young superior. He availed himself of his
-character only to claim the right of choosing the last place, and
-of making himself the servant of all." He was ordained priest on
-the 25th of July, 1828.
-</p>
-<p>
-The war against the Jesuits in France was approaching its crisis,
-and the ordinance which deprived them of the liberty of teaching
-and shut up all their colleges was promulgated just about the
-time of Father de Ravignan's ordination.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115">{115}</a></span>
-Cut off from the privilege of secular instruction, the society
-resolved to devote itself more zealously than ever to the
-theological training of its own members. Father de Ravignan was
-assigned a chair of theology at Saint Acheul, near Amiens; for he
-was not only a thorough scholar, but he possessed a rare talent
-for teaching, and according to the testimony of his pupil, Father
-Rubillon, fully realized "the idea of a professor of theology
-such as is depicted by St. Ignatius." The poor fathers, however,
-were not to be left here in peace. In 1829, they received notice
-to suspend their classes; but Father de Ravignan hastened to
-Paris, saw the Minister of Public Instruction, and caused the
-order to be set aside. The next year came the revolution of July.
-Late in the evening of the 29th, a mob, led by an expelled pupil,
-attacked the college, burst in gates, and with cries for "The
-King and the Charter!" "The Emperor!" "Liberty!" and "Down with
-the priests!" and "Death to the Jesuits!" proceeded to sack the
-building. While some of the fathers took refuge in the chapel,
-and others, expecting death, were busy hearing one another's
-confessions, Father de Ravignan went upon a balcony, and tried to
-make himself heard by the rioters. He persisted until a stone
-struck him on the temple, and he was led away bleeding. To what
-lengths the fury of the mob would have gone it is impossible to
-say; but fortunately, in the course of their devastation they
-stumbled into the wine-cellar, and all got drunk. The arrival of
-a troop of cavalry dispersed the reeling crowd in the twinkling
-of an eye, and the Jesuits were left to mourn over the ruins. The
-next day it seemed certain that the attack would be renewed. The
-college was deserted, and its inmates scattered in different
-directions, Father de Ravignan being sent to Brigue in
-Switzerland to resume his courses of theological instruction.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was not until the close of 1834 that he came back to France.
-Then we find him once more at Saint Acheul, where, since classes
-were prohibited, a house had been opened for fathers in their
-third year of probation. Three years later, he was appointed
-superior of a new house at Bordeaux. There he remained until
-1842.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the mean time he had entered, imperceptibly, so to speak, upon
-the great work of his life. He had preached many retreats at
-different times to his own brethren, and to other religious
-communities, but had rarely been heard in a public pulpit until,
-during the Lent of 1835, while he was living at Saint Acheul, he
-was selected to preach a series of conferences in the cathedral
-of Amiens. He was forty years of age when he began this
-apostleship, and he had been withdrawn from the world ever since
-he was twenty-seven; yet he had not been forgotten. There was a
-lively curiosity among his old friends to hear him; the members
-of the bar in particular were constant in their attendance; and
-the impression produced in Amiens was not only deep, but rich in
-spiritual fruit. In Advent, he was appointed to preach a similar
-course at the same place; and in Lent of the next year, we find
-him preaching in the church of St. Thomas Aquinas, in Paris.
-Nothing exactly like these conferences and courses of sermons, so
-common in France, has ever been known to our country, and some of
-our readers may find it difficult to appreciate the magnitude and
-importance of the labor in which Father de Ravignan was now
-engaged.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116">{116}</a></span>
-The audiences whom he had to address were not only poor,
-unlettered sinners, whose consciences needed arousing; to these
-of course he must speak, but with them came hundreds of the most
-cultivated and critical listeners, who studied the speaker's
-language and manner as they would a literary essay or an exercise
-in elocution. The court, the army, the learned professions, and
-the leaders of fashionable society crowded around the Lent and
-Advent pulpits. The appearance of a new preacher was the
-sensation of the metropolis. The newspapers criticised the
-performance as they would criticise a play at the theatre. To
-satisfy the exactions of such an audience as this, and yet to
-preserve that unction without which preaching is a waste of
-breath&mdash;to please the critical ear, and yet to move the callous
-heart, required qualifications which few men combined. The most
-famous of all the series of conferences had been those in the
-great cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris. Father Lacordaire had
-there roused an extraordinary enthusiasm, and at the height of
-his fame had abandoned the pulpit and gone to Rome for the
-purpose of restoring the Dominican order to France. He earnestly
-desired that Father de Ravignan should be his successor at Notre
-Dame, and it is interesting to know that it was partly through
-Lacordaire's agency, that the Jesuit was obliged in 1837 to begin
-that grand series of discourses, extending over ten years, by
-which he will be chiefly remembered. "No one could claim to be
-the apostle of such an assembly as met in Notre Dame," says
-Father de Ponlevoy,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "unless he were first of all a philosopher. The subject chosen
-  for the first year was accordingly a kind of Catholic
-  philosophy of history, depicting the broad outlines of the
-  struggle between truth and error. This idea is analogous to
-  that which inspired the <i>City of God</i> of St. Augustine; it
-  was carried on in the station of 1838 by an explanation of
-  fundamental doctrines, beginning with the personality and
-  action of God, in opposition to the abstractions of the
-  pantheists, the ill-defined forms of deism and fatalism;
-  proceeding on to liberty, the immortality of the soul and the
-  end of man, against materialism. For all this, it was necessary
-  to go to first principles, to recall slumbering belief to life,
-  and again to establish doctrines which had been corrupted by
-  numberless errors. Some portion of the hearers were from this
-  time forward led to embrace the last practical conclusions, and
-  already F. de Ravignan had some consoling returns to the faith
-  to report. At the end of the station of 1838, he wrote:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "'The attendance has been large and remarkable for the great
-  number of distinguished persons, members of the present and
-  former ministries, peers, deputies, academicians, well known
-  Protestants, foreigners of rank, and a troop of young men.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "'There have been symptoms of approval, sometimes too freely
-  manifested; conversions, a few, but not many. Moreover, no
-  expressions of hostility, either in the newspapers or among the
-  audience. God be praised!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "'I have been forced to have some intercourse with a great many
-  people, and some of them persons of note. M. de Chateaubriand
-  paid me a visit; two interviews were arranged for me with M. de
-  Lamartine; several physicians and men of science have sought to
-  see me; some have been to confession. How many great men there
-  are ignorant of the faith, and sick in mind and heart.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "'God has supported me. I have felt his grace, his help to our
-  society, and the benefit of the prayers offered for my work. I
-  took care that none of the journals should employ short-hand
-  writers, that my words might not be published in a distorted
-  form.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-From the very outset, Father de Ravignan had contemplated the
-establishment of an annual retreat by way of a complement to his
-conferences; but wishing to give his influence time to work
-before he carried out this plan, he waited until 1841, and then
-resolved to begin in the small church of the Abbaye-aux-Bois,
-which with great crowding holds no more than 1000 or 1200 people.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117">{117}</a></span>
-Should the attendance be too large for this church, it was
-arranged that he should remove to St. Eustache. He describes the
-result of his experiment as follows:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I gave notice of a retreat for men during Holy Week, only on
-  Palm-Sunday at Notre Dame before the conference; an instruction
-  every evening at eight o'clock till Holy Saturday inclusively.
-  On the Monday evening I went to the Abbaye-aux-Bois about
-  half-past seven. I found an extraordinary crowd, and difficulty
-  in getting places; and there was not a single woman. I had kept
-  them all out. For nearly two hours the whole church had been
-  full, and already a hundred people had gone away unable to get
-  in. I wanted to cross the bottom of the church, but I could not
-  get along. I was recognized, and with great earnestness, but
-  without uproar, I was asked to adjourn elsewhere. I promised to
-  do so. From the pulpit I was struck by this throng of men,
-  almost all young, who filled the doorways, the altars and no
-  disturbance. After having warmly congratulated them, I
-  appointed Saint-Eustache for the next day. Then I bade them all
-  rise for prayer. They all rose like one man. We recited the
-  <i>Veni Creator</i>, and the instruction followed on these
-  words: <i>Venite seorsum et requiescite pusillum&mdash;Come aside,
-  and rest a little</i>. I advised them all to remain for
-  benediction. All remained.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Next day Saint-Eustache was filled five hours before the
-  service, and the following days they came even earlier.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "My heart is full of gratitude to God. His help has been plain.
-  I do not know that such a churchful of men was ever seen. The
-  iron gates at the doors, the bases of the pillars, the rails,
-  everything, was covered with people hanging on; the nave and
-  aisles filled and crowded beyond conception, and the deepest,
-  most religious silence&mdash;not one disturbance, no police&mdash;3000 or
-  4000 men's voices singing the <i>Miserere</i>, the <i>Stabat
-  Mater</i>. The sight affected me deeply.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I at once adopted perfect apostolic freedom of language, and,
-  without preface, began to speak of sin, of hell, of confession,
-  etc. I delivered my address, and appointed six hours every day
-  which I would devote to men who might wish to see me. They have
-  come in shoals. I have been hearing confessions all the week,
-  six or seven hours a day, of men of all ages and positions in
-  life&mdash;all very much behindhand. God has given me consolation.
-  The prayers offered on all sides for this work have had a
-  visible effect. There has been a marked movement in Paris. More
-  Easter Communions everywhere. Our fathers have received many
-  more confessions of men. I have not declined a single one, and
-  I am still busy in finishing them.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "A good many came to tell me of their difficulties, and I said
-  to them, 'Well, believe me, there is but one way; take your
-  place there;' and all, with a single exception, made their
-  confessions.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "On Good-Friday the Passion sermon exhausted my strength; the
-  following day I had no voice left. I was unable to give the
-  closing instruction of the retreat on Holy Saturday. I wrote a
-  scrap of a note to inform the Curé of Saint-Eustache, and he
-  bethought him of reading it from the pulpit. All went off
-  quietly; the people waited for benediction and went home."
-</p>
-<p>
-Lacordaire was a far more brilliant and poetical preacher than De
-Ravignan, but the styles of the two men were so entirely
-different that there can be no comparison between them. The
-conferences of the Jesuit orator, studied in the cold light of
-print, lack color and imagination; but they can only be judged
-fairly by those who heard them delivered. The principal
-characteristic of his delivery we should judge must have been
-force&mdash;a force which amounted to majesty. He spoke with a
-commanding air of authority, as one whose convictions were as
-fixed as the everlasting hills. His power of assertion was
-tremendous; with all this he was animated and impassioned,
-although he generally commenced with a slow and measured cadence.
-His style was a little rough, but nervous and striking. He did
-not captivate, but he conquered. His gestures were dignified and
-impressive; his attitude was modest but commanding; his personal
-presence was noble. When he entered the pulpit, he remained a
-long time motionless, with eyes cast down, waiting until the
-assemblage became perfectly still. Then he made the sign of the
-cross with a pomp and stateliness which became famous.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118">{118}</a></span>
-A Protestant minister who witnessed this solemn exordium
-exclaimed, "He has preached without speaking a word!" It used to
-be said, "When Father de Ravignan shows himself in the pulpit, no
-one can tell whether he has just ascended from earth or come down
-from heaven." One day he had been describing the wilful misery of
-the unbeliever&mdash;his doubts, fears, melancholy, repinings, and
-despair; the picture was drawn with a terrible force; the
-audience sat as if paralyzed. Suddenly, want of breath compelled
-the orator to pause. He folded his arms, and with inimitable
-emphasis brought the climax to an end with these words: "And we&mdash;
-we are believers!" The effect was overpowering. The people forgot
-themselves, and a signal of applause ran through the church. The
-priest was indignant. With glowing countenance and arm raised in
-air, he cried, "Silence!" in a voice of awful reproof, and the
-assembly was instantly hushed.
-</p>
-<p>
-Still more effective, though less celebrated than the
-conferences, were Father de Ravignan's retreats. In these he was
-unapproached. He followed strictly the exercises of St. Ignatius,
-to which he gave such unremitting study that he might well be
-called a man of one book. His conferences were prepared with
-great elaboration, but the retreats were improvisations. As years
-went on, he devoted himself more and more closely to these latter
-exercises, until they became at last his proper work in the
-ministry; and when sickness, and the loss of his voice had
-compelled him to abandon formal preaching, he continued to
-conduct the retreats at Notre Dame, while Lacordaire resumed his
-place in the pulpit.
-</p>
-<p>
-It must not be supposed that the success of the Jesuit's oratory
-was any indication of a growing favor for the society in France.
-The opposition to its existence was still active, and the
-government refused to acknowledge that as a society it had any
-existence in the kingdom at all. The wildest stories about it
-were published and believed. One day, in the midst of a
-distinguished party assembled at the Tuileries to celebrate the
-king's birthday, a person of influence disclosed a horrible plot:
-the Jesuits had arms stored in the cellars of Saint Sulpice, and
-only the day before, Father de Ravignan had been there concerting
-measures with his accomplices. "Oh! yes," interrupted a lady of
-the court, "I was at that meeting. We were drawing a raffle for
-the poor. There were two or three hundred families so lucky as to
-be set up with a coffee-pot or a sauce-pan." As a general thing,
-however, whatever might be said of the society, Father de
-Ravignan was treated with respect. Guizot made no secret of his
-esteem for him, and Royer-Collard used to say, "Father de
-Ravignan is artless enough to imagine himself a Jesuit." In the
-little book which De Ravignan accordingly wrote about this
-time&mdash;<i>On the Existence and the Institute of the
-Jesuits</i>&mdash;there was a double purpose to be gained. He wished
-to identify himself as thoroughly and as publicly as he could
-with the society to which he had given his heart, and he wished
-to share in the gallant battle which Lacordaire was fighting for
-the right of the religious orders to exist in France under the
-protection of the laws. The opposition in the legislative
-chambers had been insisting that they ought not to exist; the
-ministry replied that they did not exist; and right in the midst
-of the dispute appears Father de Ravignan, like the poor prisoner
-who called a lawyer to get him out of jail.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119">{119}</a></span>
-"But this is preposterous," said the counsel; "you can't be
-arrested on such a charge as that!" "I don't know," said the
-prisoner, "but I <i>am</i> arrested." "Why, I tell you, you
-<i>can't</i> be: it is not legal; they have no right to put you
-in jail." "Well, I only know that I <i>am</i> in jail, and I want
-you get me out." Father de Ravignan showed clearly enough that
-they did exist, and had a right to legal protection. If they were
-to be driven out of the kingdom, the government must face the
-responsibility, and do it openly. A few days after the appearance
-of the book, Lacordaire, being present at a meeting of the
-Catholic Club under the presidency of the Archbishop of Paris,
-exclaimed, "If we were in England, I should propose three cheers
-for Father de Ravignan." The cheers were given with a will.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have no space to follow Father de Ravignan in the varied
-occupations of the next ten years. His health, always precarious,
-broke down completely in 1847, and for the rest of his life he
-was condemned to alternations of intense suffering, and of forced
-inaction which was worse to him than pain. He was tormented with
-chronic neuralgia, with dropsy on the chest, and a severe
-affection of the larynx, that for long periods deprived him
-entirely of the power of preaching. During these ten years of
-suffering, he wrote his history of "Clement XIII. and Clement
-XIV," a book which under the guise of an apology for the course
-of the latter pontiff in the suppression of the Jesuits was in
-reality an apology for the society, and a reply to the recently
-published work of Father Theiner on the same subject. He founded
-the sodality known as the Children of Mary, assisted in the
-establishment of the Congregation of the Oratory, and was
-zealously and constantly employed in the direction of souls and
-the guidance of converts&mdash;gathering up, as Father de Ponlevoy
-well expresses it, the fruit of his ten years' preaching. There
-is hardly a distinguished name in the history of France at that
-day which does not appear in connection with his. Madame
-Swetchine was one of his co-laborers. Madame de la Ferronnays,
-whose charming life has recently been told under the title of
-<i>A Sister's Story</i>, was his devoted friend. Chateaubriand,
-Count Molé, Walckenaër, Camper the celebrated navigator, Marshal
-St. Arnaud, General Cavaignac, Prince Demidoff, Montalembert, De
-Falloux, and Bishop Dupanloup&mdash;these are some of the illustrious
-names which occur most frequently in his correspondence. A
-celebrity of a very different sort with whom he had some
-intercourse is thus alluded to in Father de Ponlevoy's Life:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "We cannot conclude this chapter without making some mention of
-  that well-known American <i>Medium</i>, who possessed the
-  unfortunate talent of turning other things besides tables, and
-  of calling up the dead for the amusement of the living. Much
-  has been said, even in the newspapers, about his close and
-  pious intimacy with F. de Ravignan; and it seems that an
-  attempt has been made to use an honored name as a passport to
-  introduce into France, and establish there, these wonderful
-  discoveries of the new world.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The facts, in all their simplicity, are as follows: It is
-  quite true that, after the young foreigner had been converted
-  in Italy, he was furnished at Rome with an introduction to F.
-  de Ravignan; but by this time he had given up his magic at the
-  same time that he gave up his Protestantism, and he was
-  received with the interest which is due from a priest to every
-  soul ransomed with the blood of Jesus Christ, and especially,
-  perhaps, to a soul which is converted and brought back to the
-  bosom of the church. On his arrival in Paris, he was again
-  absolutely forbidden to return in any way to his old practices.
-  F. de Ravignan, agreeably to the principles of the faith which
-  proscribe all superstition, prohibited, under the severest
-  penalties he could inflict, all participation in or presence at
-  these dangerous and sometimes guilty proceedings.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120">{120}</a></span>
-   Once the unhappy <i>Medium</i>, beset by I know not what man
-   or devil, was unfaithful to his promise; he was received with
-   a severity which prostrated him; I chanced at the time to come
-   into the room, and I saw him rolling on the ground, and
-   writhing like a worm at the feet of the priest, so righteously
-   indignant. The father was touched by a repentance which led to
-   such bodily agony, raised him up, and pardoned him; but,
-   before dismissing him, exacted a written promise confirmed by
-   an oath. But a notorious relapse soon took place, and the
-   servant of God, breaking off all connection with this slave of
-   the spirits, sent him word never again to appear in his
-   presence."
-</p>
-<p>
-We shall not undertake, in the brief space that remains, to
-describe the beauty of Father de Ravignan's character&mdash;his
-touching humility, his rare sweetness of soul, his complete
-detachment from earth, his patience, his charity, and his
-unflagging zeal. He was once asked how he had attained such
-mastery over himself. "There were two of us," he replied; "I
-threw one out of the window, so that only I remained where I
-was." Father de Ponlevoy applies to him the description which St.
-Francis Xavier gave of St. Ignatius: "His character is made up of
-three elements; a humility of mind which we can scarcely
-understand, a force of soul superior to all opposition, and an
-incomparable kindness of heart."
-</p>
-<p>
-In the spring of 1857, a severe attack of sickness obliged him to
-remove to Saint Acheul. He came back to Paris in the autumn,
-apparently restored to as good health as he had experienced of
-recent years, but he was already far gone in consumption. On the
-3d of December, he passed a long time at the Convent of the
-Sacred Heart, conversing with a poor person who wanted to enter
-the church. Then he went into the confessional, and remained
-there until physically exhausted. One of his penitents on that
-occasion remarked that he spoke more than ever like a man who no
-longer belonged to this world. He got home with great difficulty.
-This was the last of his ministry. On the Feast of the Immaculate
-Conception, he celebrated mass for the last time; but it was not
-until the 26th of February that he passed to that blessed rest
-for which he had yearned so long with an eagerness that he used
-to call "homesickness." The account of his last days is too
-beautiful to be abridged. With the awe inspired by the sublime
-narrative, we prefer to drop our pen at the opening of this final
-chapter, wherein the gates of heaven seem to stand ajar, and our
-eyes are dazzled by the awful light which streams from the divine
-presence.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121">{121}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-         <h2>The Educational Question.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-The articles upon popular education which have heretofore
-appeared in this journal seem to have produced the effects which
-were anticipated by the writer. The public interest has been
-unusually excited by the discussion; and two classes of
-antagonists have ventured to make an issue with the advocates of
-a just distribution of the school fund. The first in order, but
-much the least important in all other respects, is that confessed
-fossil, the "no-popery" party, which ever and anon intrudes
-itself upon the unwilling attention of our republican society,
-braying itself hoarse with rage because it can neither command
-the confidence of enlightened and liberal Protestants nor escape
-the galling ridicule of six millions of its Catholic
-fellow-citizens. This class is well represented in an elaborate
-tract lately issued from the office of the American and Foreign
-Christian Union, 27 Bible House, New York City, and purporting to
-be a review of the article in the January number of <i>The
-Educational Monthly</i>, presenting <i>The Roman Catholic View of
-Education in the United States</i>. It requires no great amount
-of logical acumen to enable the least intelligent of men to see
-that this tract affords the most apt illustration of one of the
-principal arguments we have advanced in support of the Catholic
-claim. We have remained silent for the last three months, resting
-satisfied that it would be impossible for "the stereotyped class
-of saints and philosophers" to rush to the rescue of a cherished
-injustice, without forthwith exposing its odious features in
-their struggle to carry it victoriously through the battle-field
-of a public controversy. The veil of Mokanna has fallen even
-before the false prophet had time to secure a victim! or, to
-speak more in accordance with scriptural analogies, the cloven
-foot has discovered itself under the clerical robe and the
-wickedness of the heart has burst out from the tongue. <i>Quare
-fremuerunt gentes!</i> Why, indeed, shall they rage and devise
-vain things? Have they not fulfilled this prophecy of the royal
-David for three hundred years; and have they not suffered the
-derision threatened in the fourth verse of the second Psalm?
-Where shall we find a more convincing proof than this very tract
-of what the enemies of the Catholic faith and people design to
-accomplish by a school system which they insincerely profess to
-advocate on account of its intrinsic merits, in the face of the
-historical fact that, wherever and whenever they have had the
-power to control the state&mdash;as the early days of all New England
-and of several of the other American States&mdash;they never failed to
-use the school-room as an ante-chamber to the conventicle! After
-they had been stripped of this power by such men as Jefferson,
-Madison, Hamilton, and the liberal founders of American
-institutions, they still struggled for many years to accomplish
-by indirect means the injustice and iniquity which could not be
-openly maintained under the constitutions and the laws of the
-federal government and the several States. We all well remember
-how the poor Catholic boys and girls of the free schools were
-harassed by colporteurs and proselytizers, who carried baskets
-filled, not with bread for the hungry children of poverty, but
-with oleaginous tracts, cunningly devised to destroy in those
-little pupils of the state the faith of their fathers and the
-religious practices of their devout mothers.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122">{122}</a></span>
-Teachers were selected with especial regard to their bitter
-hatred of the Catholic Church and their zeal for "Evangelical"
-propagandism. When this failed to make any very perceptible
-impression upon the numerical strength of the Catholic people,
-then commenced the wholesale child-stealing, under the pious
-pretext of cleaning out the moral sewers of society; and tens of
-thousands of little children, stolen or forcibly wrested from the
-arms of Catholic parents&mdash;too poor and friendless to protect the
-natural and legal rights of themselves and their offspring&mdash;were
-hurried off to the far West, their names changed, and their
-temporal and eternal hopes committed to the zealous charge of
-pious and vigorous haters of the popish anti-Christ! In spite of
-all this, the Catholic population of the United States continued
-steadily to rise like a flood tide, not only through foreign
-immigration, but by reason of virtuous wedlock and the watchful
-and severe faith and discipline of a church which forbids and
-effectually prevents child-murder! The reader will find this
-matter discussed in an article elsewhere in this number,
-entitled, "Comparative Morality of Catholic and Protestant
-Countries."
-</p>
-<p>
-The writer of the tract issued from 27 Bible House is annoyed by
-the comparison which the author of the article in <i>The
-Educational Monthly</i> instituted between the violent crimes of
-our ancestors and the stupendous sins which have supplanted them
-in modern times. The comparison was close-fitting as the shirt of
-Nessus, and quite as uncomfortable. The Bible House replies to
-this with a contrast between the intellectual, material, moral,
-and religious advancement of the masses in England, the United
-States, and every other Protestant country, in the nineteenth
-century, and the debasement of the people of Spain, Italy,
-Mexico, and South America. In the first place, we reply that our
-present controversy concerns popular education in the United
-States now and for a hopeful future, and not the past nor the
-present of European or South American nations. In the next place,
-we say that this is but another evidence of the malignant spirit
-to which we are required to intrust the training of our Catholic
-youth. They are to be taught that the church of their fathers is
-the nursery of ignorance and vice; and that all the knowledge,
-civilization, and virtue which the world enjoys are the offspring
-of the so-called Reformation. They are to learn nothing of the
-true history of Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, Belgium,
-Switzerland, Austria, Bavaria, and the Catholic principalities of
-Continental Europe. They are never to hear of the vast libraries
-of Catholic learning; the rich endowments of Catholic education
-all over the world for ages; the innumerable universities,
-colleges, academies, and free schools established by their
-church, or by governments under her auspices, throughout
-Christendom. They are not to be told how Oxford and Cambridge
-were founded by their Catholic forefathers and plundered from
-their lawful possession. The Bible House tractarian would not
-willingly read to them from the <i>Notes of a Traveller</i> by
-that eminent Scotch Presbyterian, Samuel Laing, such passages as
-these:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The comparative education of the Scotch clergy of the present
-  generation, that is to say, their education compared to that of
-  the Scotch people, is unquestionably lower than that of the
-  Popish clergy compared to the education of their people. This
-  is usually ascribed to the Popish clergy seeking to maintain
-  their influence and superiority by keeping the people in gross
-  ignorance.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123">{123}</a></span>
-   But this opinion of our churchmen seems more orthodox than
-   charitable or correct. The Popish clergy have in reality less
-   to lose by the progress of education than our own Scotch
-   clergy; because their pastoral influence and their church
-   services being founded on ceremonial ordinances, come into no
-   competition or comparison whatsoever in the public mind with
-   anything similar that literature or education produces; and
-   are not connected with the imperfect mode of conveying
-   instruction which, as education advances, becomes obsolete and
-   falls into disuse, and almost into contempt, although
-   essential in our Scotch church. In Catholic Germany, in
-   France, Italy, and even Spain the education of the common
-   people in reading, writing, arithmetic, music, manners, and
-   morals is at least as generally diffused, and as faithfully
-   promoted by the clerical body, as in Scotland. It is by their
-   own advance and not by keeping back the advance of the people,
-   that the Popish priesthood of the present day seek to keep
-   ahead of the intellectual progress of the community in
-   Catholic lands; and they might, perhaps, retort on our
-   Presbyterian clergy, and ask if they, too, are in their
-   countries at the head of the intellectual movement of the age?
-   Education is in reality not only not repressed but is
-   encouraged by the Popish Church, and is a mighty instrument in
-   its hands and ably used. In every street in Rome, for
-   instance, there are at short distances public primary schools
-   for the education of the children of the lower and middle
-   classes in the neighborhood Rome, with a population of 158,678
-   souls, has 372 public primary schools with 482 teachers; and
-   14,099 children attending them. Has Edinburgh so many public
-   schools for the instruction of those classes? I doubt it.
-   Berlin, with a population about double that of Rome, has only
-   264 schools. Rome has also her university with an average
-   attendance of 660 students; and the Papal States with a
-   population of 2,500,000 (in 1846) contain seven universities.
-   Prussia with a population of 14,000,000 has but seven."
-</p>
-<p>
-Neither would our Bible House tractarian teach his Catholic
-pupils to discriminate between times, circumstances,
-opportunities, characteristics of race, influences of climate,
-ancient traditional habits, and the complicated causes which
-affect the life and development of each nation; so as to contrast
-Protestant England with Protestant Denmark, and Catholic France
-with Catholic Portugal; or, again, to compare each of these with
-itself at different epochs of its own history. They are not to be
-told that Spain was never as powerful, covering the seas with her
-commerce and the earth with her conquests, and lighting up Europe
-by her genius, as at the time when she was the most thoroughly
-Catholic and the least tainted with that revolutionary infidelity
-which was born of Calvin and has grown to be a giant destroyer
-under Mazzini and Garibaldi. They are to be told, however, that
-the glory of a Christian nation is to be measured by its national
-debt, its fleets and armies, its opium trade, its Coolie traffic,
-its bankrupt laws, its work-houses, its prodigious fortunes
-mocking squalid poverty, its twenty millions of people who own no
-foot of land and its vicious nobles and gentry who firmly grasp
-it all, its telegraphic wires and cables, its huge ships and
-thundering factories, its luxurious merchants who toil not, and
-its starving able-bodied paupers who can find no work to do, its
-grotesque mixture of the beautiful and the vile, of the grand and
-the infamous, of the light of the skies and the darkness of the
-obscene coal-pits, of the pride of science and the ignorance of
-barbarism, of the perfume of fashionable churches and the stench
-of gin-shops, of the industrial slavery of great towns and the
-rotting idleness of vast lazar-houses, which make up the boasted
-civilization of haughty England, and extort from the Bible House
-the prayerful cry, "<i>Thank God, we are not like unto these
-Romish Publicans!</i>" Happy Pharisees! we certainly do not
-desire to disturb their self-complacency; but we wish to teach
-our Catholic children that the simple habits, the earnest piety,
-the manly truth and courage of the little Catholic Republic of
-San Marino, which has preserved its liberties and independence
-for over eight hundred years without losing its religion, are for
-the citizens of this great democratic empire a more profitable
-study than the doctrines of Malthus or the history of
-cotton-gins.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124">{124}</a></span>
-As we have said in our former articles, we already have here
-quite enough of the material, and a superabundance of animal
-spirits and vigor; and that what we stand in need of is a
-well-defined faith, moral duties clearly understood, and habits
-of practical virtue firmly fixed in the daily life of all the
-people, Without that, even temporal prosperity must be
-evanescent; as it was with all heathen nations that have
-successively ruled the world and perished. Without that, temporal
-prosperity is a curse, and not a blessing; for what will it
-profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?
-Men make nations; and nationalities are of no value before God,
-except only in so far as they conduce to the end of each
-individual man's creation. The Indian who goes to heaven from his
-wigwam in the forest attains his end. The philosopher who goes to
-hell from his palace in London or Paris has wofully miscalculated
-the worth of all human philosophy, statesmanship, and national
-grandeur, as the idols of his worship. The pagans measured human
-life and society by the standard of the Bible House, No. 27, if
-we are to judge it by this tract!
-</p>
-<p>
-So also, according to this tract, our Catholic children should be
-taught in the schools that Voltaire became an infidel
-<i>because</i> he had been a Catholic and was trained at a Jesuit
-college. It will nowhere appear in the lesson that he became an
-infidel because he rebelled against the teachings of his church,
-and renounced the maxims of his Jesuit tutors. When he so
-zealously defended his thesis in vindication of Julian the
-Apostate, his own apostasy was foretold by his master. His death
-was the answer to his life. In his agony he called for a priest;
-but three-score years of blasphemy had won to him the avenging
-disciples who then encircled his bed like a wall of fire; and no
-priest could reach the dying enemy of Christ!
-</p>
-<p>
-This tract would also teach our children in the schools that it
-was the teachings of the "Romish Church" which drove
-revolutionary France from the altars of God. It would not be
-explained to them how that revolutionary rage was but the
-outburst of a volcano of passion which had smouldered during ages
-of long suffering under the rule of kings and nobles; and that
-the instincts of the people remained so true, that in the very
-same generation they returned, like the people of Israel, to the
-worship of God; and rushed to the altars of their fathers with
-tears of repentance and joy. <i>They did not become
-Protestants!</i> How has it been with the descendants of the
-godly men of Plymouth Rock? Quietly and with exquisite decorum
-they have settled down into deists, pantheists, freethinkers,
-free-lovers, spiritualists, and philosophers! Will they go back
-to Puritanism?
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "Facilis descensus Averni!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The tract tells our children that Gibbon left the Protestant
-Church for the Catholic, and finally landed in infidelity. Why
-did he not go back to Protestantism?
-</p>
-<p>
-The tract also tells our children that this is a Protestant
-country; which means that all its glories are Protestant, and
-that the Catholic, with Italy and Spain before his eyes, should
-be thankful that he is tolerated here. Are our children to learn
-this lesson at the schools?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125">{125}</a></span>
-Now, in the first place, if Bishop Coxe and other Protestant
-witnesses are reliable,[Footnote 47] our Bible House friends may
-as well begin to prepare their nerves to see our great country
-become Catholic, at least as much of it as will remain Christian
-at all. Perhaps they will then value the wisdom and liberality of
-that admonitory sentence in the article of <i>The Educational
-Monthly</i> which reads thus:
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 47: See page 61 of this number.]
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "We are quite sure that if the Catholics were the majority in
-  the United States, and were to attempt such an injustice," (as
-  that involved in this school question.) "our Protestant
-  brethren would cry out against it, and appeal to the wise and
-  liberal examples of Prussia and England, France and Austria!
-  Now, is it not always as unwise as it is unjust to make a
-  minority taste the bitterness of oppression? Men governed by
-  the law of divine charity will bear it meekly and seek to
-  return good for evil; but all men are not docile; and
-  majorities change rapidly and often, in this fleeting world! Is
-  it not wiser and more politic, even in mere regard to social
-  interests, that all institutions intended for the welfare of
-  the people should be firmly based upon exact and equal justice?
-  This would place them under the protection of fixed habit,
-  which in a nation is as strong as nature; and it would save
-  them from the mutations of society. The strong of one
-  generation may be the weak of the next; and we see this
-  occurring with political parties within the brief spaces of
-  presidential terms. Hence we wisely inculcate moderation and of
-  retribution."
-</p>
-<p>
-In the next place, although the present majority of the American
-people are non-Catholic, we deny that they are Protestants, as a
-nation, in a political sense. The institutions of the country are
-neither Catholic nor Protestant. They recognize no one faith more
-than another. Christian morality is accepted as the basis of
-public and private duties by common consent; that is all.
-Religious liberty was not born of the theocracy of New England.
-Hancock and Adams, under the lead of Jefferson, departed very far
-from the instincts of Calvinism and the traditions of Plymouth
-Rock when they laid the foundations of this government; and this
-is one of the things which we certainly intend to have our
-children taught. We do not intend that they shall be "poor boys
-at the feast," humbly thankful for such crumbs as our Bible House
-friends may magnanimously bestow upon the "Romish aliens;" but
-they shall be told to hold up their heads, with the full
-consciousness that they are American citizens, the peers of all
-others, and in no way disqualified, by the doctrines or morals of
-their church, to perform every duty as faithfully and as ably as
-any other men of any other creed. They shall not be terrified
-with the "<i>raw head and bloody bones</i>" of "degraded Italy,"
-"besotted Spain," and the other terrible examples of the
-destroying influence of their old mother church. We shall teach
-them not to trust any morality which does not rest upon a clear
-faith; and we shall show them how that faith commands obedience
-to lawful authority, purity of motive in all public acts, and
-universal charity for all men.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some of our readers may be surprised that we have devoted so much
-space to this tract. Our motive should be apparent. We said, in
-the beginning of this article, that this tract sounds like the
-voice of one of the two classes of opponents who are arrayed
-against us on this question; and that in itself it affords a
-perfect illustration of our main argument, which is this, clearly
-stated in the following paragraph from the article in <i>The
-Educational Monthly</i>:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-   "And more than this, Catholics know by painful experience that
-   history cannot be compiled, travels written, poetry, oratory,
-   or romance inflicted upon a credulous public, without the
-   stereotyped assaults upon the doctrines, discipline, and
-   historical life of their church.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126">{126}</a></span>
-   From Walter Scott to Peter Parley, and from Hume, Gibbon, and
-   Macaulay to the mechanical compilers of cheap school
-   literature, it is the same story told a thousand times oftener
-   than it is refuted; so that the English language, for the last
-   two centuries, may be said without exaggeration to have waged
-   war against the Catholic Church. Indeed, so far as European
-   history is considered, the difficulty must always be
-   insurmountable; since it would always be impossible for the
-   Catholic and Protestant to accept the same history of the
-   Reformation or of the Papal See, or the political, social, and
-   moral events resulting from or in any degree connected with
-   those two great centres and controlling causes. Who could
-   write a political history of Christendom for the last three
-   hundred years and omit all mention of Luther and the pope? And
-   how is any school compendium of such history to be devised for
-   the use of the Catholic and Protestant child alike?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, it is very well understood that, with all their doctrinal
-differences and sectarian antipathies, all the Protestant sects
-can nevertheless, as a general rule, accept any Protestant
-history of the so-called Reformation, and of the wars,
-diplomacies, public events, and moral results springing from or
-connected with that episode in the religious annals of our race;
-but can Catholics accept such? Will you compel Catholic parents
-to accept for their children histories written in the spirit of
-this Bible House tract, which tells us (p. 3.) that the Catholic
-faith "<i>taught the people that a Romish priest is to them in
-the place of God; that a Romish priest can create his
-Creator!</i>"
-</p>
-<p>
-The very encyclopedia, quoted by our tractarian is another
-Roundhead trooper armed against the papal anti-Christ! And so,
-the bright Catholic boy will be amused with the antics of the
-feasting and fighting monk in <i>Ivanhoe</i>; whilst graver
-calumnies will convince him that the church of his fathers, and
-of the great-grandfathers of her modern revilers, is truly a den
-of thieves and a house of abominations.
-</p>
-<p>
-It may as well be distinctly understood, once and for all, that
-we cannot consent that our children shall receive secular
-education without religious training; and that we understand very
-well that such religious knowledge as we desire them to possess
-cannot be imparted by those who are hostile to us. We intend also
-to teach them to respect and uphold all the rights, social,
-political, and religious, of their fellow-citizens, upon the
-plain injunction of the Scriptures that they shall do unto others
-precisely as they would have others do unto themselves. At the
-same time we will teach them to love and revere their ancient
-mother church, as the custodian for fifteen hundred years of that
-Bible which she is falsely accused by this tract of
-"<i>fearing;</i>" as the munificent patroness of every art and
-the mistress of every science; as the friend and supporter of
-liberty when united to order and justice; as the enemy of pride,
-license, and disobedience to lawful authority; as the guardian of
-the sanctity of marriage against the pagan concupiscence of the
-divorce courts; as the sword of vengeance uplifted over the heads
-of the child-murdering destroyers of populations; in fine, as the
-hope and future salvation of this republic and all its precious
-endowments of personal manhood, honor, virtue, and faith, and all
-its national institutions of self-governing popular sovereignty,
-equal rights, and faithful citizenship, based, not upon infidel
-revolutionary "<i>fraternity</i>," but upon a noble Christian
-brotherhood. Certainly, even if we were mistaken in our estimate
-of the fruitfulness and power of the Catholic faith, it would be
-no less an evidence of our sincere patriotism, that we are
-anxious to impress upon the children of the church the conviction
-that in faithfully serving their country they are only obeying
-the commands of their religion.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127">{127}</a></span>
-<p>
-As we do not intend that our children shall be either untaught or
-mistaught in regard to this sublime knowledge and duty, we shall
-insist on educating them ourselves, with or without receiving our
-just share of the public taxes, to which we do contribute very
-largely, the declaration of the Bible House tract to the contrary
-notwithstanding.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have devoted more space to this first, class of objectors than
-they could claim from our courtesy, because we believe that they
-nominally represent many honest men who will cheerfully admit the
-truth when they see it.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is another and a far different class of persons who take
-issue with us upon this question, and for whom we entertain a
-perfect respect&mdash;first, because they treat the subject with
-evident fairness and commendable civility; and secondly, because
-from their stand-point, there would appear to be much good reason
-in their objections to our claim. It gives us very great pleasure
-to use all our honest endeavors to remove their difficulties.
-This class is represented by the editorial articles which
-appeared in <i>The Chicago Advance, The Troy Daily Press</i>, and
-several other papers, criticising the article of <i>The
-Educational Monthly</i>. The objections may be summed up as
-follows:
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>First</i>, (and the most important.) That denominational
-education would prevent the complete amalgamation or
-"unification" of American citizenship, and tend to increase
-sectarian bitterness, to the prejudice of republican
-institutions.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Secondly</i>. That it would destroy the harmony and efficiency
-of the general school system.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Thirdly.</i> That the Catholic people are richer in the jewels
-of the Roman matron, <i>their children</i>, than they are in the
-<i>images of Caesar</i>, the coin of the country! and that
-therefore they would draw from the common fund an amount much in
-excess of the taxes paid by them; which would not be just.
-</p>
-<p>
-We shall candidly consider these objections in the order in which
-we have stated them.
-</p>
-<p>
-As to the first: It would be fortunate, in a temporal point of
-view, if all the people were of one mind in religion, especially
-if they happen to have the true faith; inasmuch as nothing so
-conduces to the general harmony and good will as the total
-absence of all religious strife. But we see that such a state of
-things cannot be hoped for here. Not only is the community
-divided into Protestants, Catholics, and a large body of citizens
-professing no faith at all, but the Protestant community itself
-is subdivided into innumerable conflicting sects. In defiance of
-any system of public education, these various religious
-organizations will always be widely separated from each other,
-and from the Catholic Church, on questions of doctrinal belief.
-The issue then remains nakedly before us, Shall public education
-be entirely divorced from revealed religion, and shall we commit
-the morals of our children to the saving influences of a little
-"<i>reading, writing, and arithmetic;</i>" or, shall we have them
-educated in some form or another of practical Christianity? The
-arguments on this point have been so fully elaborated in our
-articles heretofore published, that it would be superfluous to
-repeat them now. We may, however, recall to mind the conclusive
-evidence afforded us of the correctness of our theory by the
-actual experience of such governments as those of England,
-France, Prussia, and Austria; under which, as we have shown in
-those articles, the denominational system is carried out to the
-fullest extent, producing harmony, instead of discord, in
-populations composed, as here, of numerous religious bodies. It
-is an old adage that one fact is worth a dozen arguments.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128">{128}</a></span>
-<p>
-We find that, after long years of earnest study of this difficult
-question, and after exhausting every half-way expedient, the
-statesmen of the countries we have named adopted with singular
-unanimity the views which we are presenting for the serious and
-candid consideration of the American public. We shall quote
-briefly from a few of those statesmen who are well-known leaders
-of opinion in the European Protestant world.
-</p>
-<p>
-Lord Derby: "Public education should be considered as inseparable
-from religion;" the contrary system is declared by him to be "the
-realization of a foolish and dangerous idea."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Gladstone: "Every system which places religious education in
-the background is pernicious."
-</p>
-<p>
-Lord John Russell insisted that in the normal schools, which he
-proposed to have established, "religion should regulate the
-entire system of discipline."
-</p>
-<p>
-M. de Raumer: "They have acquired in Prussia a conviction, which
-becomes daily more settled, that the fitness of the primary
-school depends on its intimate union with the church." In 1854,
-he writes that "education should repose upon the basis of
-Christianity, the true support of the family, of the commune, and
-of the state."
-</p>
-<p>
-M. Guizot, the former very eminent Protestant prime minister of
-France, deserves to be specially quoted, although we are but
-repeating the extracts which we gave in another article. His
-words should be written in letters of gold. Let the enemies of
-religious education, if they can, present a satisfactory answer
-to this superb declaration:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "In order to make popular education truly good and socially
-  useful, it must be fundamentally religious. I do not simply
-  mean by this, that religious instruction should hold its place
-  in popular education, and that the practices of religion should
-  enter into it; for a nation is not religiously educated by such
-  petty and mechanical devices. It is necessary that national
-  education should be given and received in the midst of a
-  religious atmosphere, and that religious impressions and
-  religious observances should penetrate into all its parts.
-  Religion is not a study or an exercise to be restricted to a
-  certain place, and a certain hour; it is a faith and a law,
-  which ought to be felt everywhere, and which after this manner
-  alone can exercise all its beneficial influence upon our minds
-  and our lives."
-</p>
-<p>
-The first Napoleon, the restorer of order and religion in France,
-influenced, at the time, merely by human considerations, and
-speaking only as a wise lawgiver, and not as a practical
-Christian, insisted upon the necessity of making the precepts of
-religion the basis of education in the university, whose halls
-had echoed the blasphemous unbelief of the disciples of Voltaire.
-</p>
-<p>
-At our very door, we have likewise the judgment and example of
-our Canadian neighbors, demonstrating the feasibility of
-connecting secular education with the most thorough instruction
-in the doctrines and practices of the different churches. Such
-opinions and facts should have some weight with our friends here
-who are fearful of the proposed experiment.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129">{129}</a></span>
-<p>
-We know, by our own personal experience, that young men educated
-at the exclusively Catholic College of Mt. St. Mary's, in
-Maryland, and other young men, graduates of Yale and Princeton,
-where Catholics are rarely if ever seen, meet afterward in the
-world of business or politics, and immediately learn to value
-each other according to intrinsic personal worth, and to exchange
-all the mutual courtesies and discharge all the reciprocal duties
-of social life. It is the same with Catholics and Protestants
-educated together at the many Catholic colleges in the United
-States, where the Catholic pupils are nevertheless invariably
-instructed, with the utmost exactness, in all the doctrines and
-practices of their church. There are thousands of such living
-witnesses throughout the country, ready to attest the correctness
-of our statement. It proves this, (what <i>we</i> know to be true
-without the proof,) that the education received by Catholics at
-their own schools, whilst rigidly doctrinal, uniformly inculcates
-charity, urbanity, and every duty of good citizenship. There is
-not, therefore, and never can be any difficulty, on the part of
-Catholics, to meet their Protestant fellow-citizens in all the
-relations of life, private and public, with the utmost frankness,
-fraternity, and confidence, provided that they are not repelled
-by harshness or chilled by distrust. Their religion teaches them
-that such is their duty. Certainly, if such happy results are
-realized even in England, Prussia, and Austria, where all
-barriers, whether social or religious, are traditionally more
-difficult to surmount, how can it be that we must expect
-animosities to be engendered under the free action and the
-liberal intercourse of our republican society?
-</p>
-<p>
-We must, therefore, consider the fear expressed by this first
-objection as wholly groundless. But even were it otherwise, what
-then? Should we, therefore, sacrifice to such an apprehension the
-far more momentous considerations that our republican,
-self-governing community can never safely trust itself in the
-great work of perpetuating the liberties of a Christian nation
-without planting itself upon the morality of the Gospel; that the
-revealed doctrines of Christ are the foundation of his moral
-code, and that to practise the one faithfully the people must be
-taught to believe the other firmly; and that religion so taught,
-as M. Guizot admirably expresses it, "is not a study or an
-exercise, to be restricted to a certain place and a certain hour;
-it is a faith and a law which ought to be felt everywhere;" and
-that "national education should be given and received in the
-midst of a religious atmosphere!"
-</p>
-<p>
-What would the advantage of a more perfect amalgamation or
-unification of citizenship avail us, if, to obtain it, we were to
-strike from under our institutions the only solid basis upon
-which they can rest with any hope whatever of being able to
-withstand the rude shocks of time, to which all mortal works are
-subject, and which destroyed the grandest structures of pagan
-power, solely because they rested upon human wisdom and human
-virtue, unaided by revealed religion and supernatural grace? We
-cannot, therefore, admit any force in the first objection.
-</p>
-<p>
-As to the second: How can the harmony or efficiency of the school
-system be disturbed by permitting a school to be organized for
-Catholic children in any district or locality where the requisite
-number may be found to render it practicable, in accordance with
-the general policy of the law? It is presumed that the law
-contemplates the education of all these children, and we cannot
-see that the harmony of the system consists in putting them into
-any one school-room rather than another. It is not proposed to
-withdraw them from the general supervision of the state, or to
-deny to the state the authority to regulate the standard of
-education, and to see that its requirements are complied with.
-This is done in every one of the countries of which we have
-spoken.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130">{130}</a></span>
-No one is so unreasonable as to expect that separate schools
-shall be organized where the number of pupils may be below a
-reasonable uniform standard; as it is not proposed to increase
-the expense of the system. On the contrary, as far as concerns
-the education of our Catholic children in the city of New York,
-we propose to reduce the cost considerably, as we shall explain
-before we close this article. It is said that the several
-Protestant denominations may demand the same privilege. Suppose
-that they do. If they have a sufficient number of children in any
-particular locality for the proper organization of a separate
-school under the law, and are willing to fulfil its requirements,
-how can the general system be impaired by allowing them to do so?
-This is the condition annexed to the privilege in all those
-countries which have adopted this liberal policy. The proposition
-seems too plain for argument. When a college contains five
-hundred boys, two hundred may be classed in the higher division,
-three hundred in the lower, and each may have separate
-playgrounds and recitation halls. So, if a district contains two
-hundred of one faith, and three hundred of another, or of several
-other creeds, surely the two hundred may be organized into one
-school and the three hundred into another, or into several
-others, according to the standard of numbers, as may be required
-by the law. The whole question, therefore, is purely one of
-distribution, not at all above the capacity of a drill-sergeant!
-The same number of children would be educated, probably in the
-same number of schools, and at the same cost, as now. The course
-of secular education prescribed by the state could be rigidly
-enforced in all such schools without assailing the conscience of
-any one, because we suppose that the state would not object that
-Catholics should learn English history from Lingard, whilst
-others might prefer Hume and Macaulay. We presume that there
-would be no disagreement in regard to reading, writing,
-arithmetic, mathematics, natural philosophy, and those things
-which constitute the general studies of primary and high schools.
-It is only with such that the state has any right to intermeddle,
-and it is only such that the state professes to secure to its
-pupils. The state may say, "The public welfare requires that the
-citizens of a self-governing nation shall receive sufficient
-intellectual culture to enable them to discharge their duties
-understandingly;" but the state has no right to say that its
-pupils shall take their knowledge and form their opinions of the
-great moral events of history from D'Aubigné or from Cardinal
-Bellarmin. It was this that troubled the great Catholic and
-Protestant governments of Europe, until experience discovered to
-them the simple solution of the difficulty which we are so
-earnestly endeavoring to commend to the acceptance of the
-American people. Have we not at least a right to expect that our
-motives will not be misrepresented; and that we shall be believed
-when we say that we are not hostile to the public schools, but,
-on the contrary, most earnestly anxious to secure for them the
-widest usefulness and the greatest efficiency. We know that that
-cannot be if religion be excluded; and that it must be excluded
-where so many conflicting creeds confront each other.
-</p>
-<p>
-As to the third: If it were true that the Catholic people
-contributed almost nothing to the school fund, as is no doubt
-sincerely believed by some who are not disposed to do us
-injustice, a very serious question would, nevertheless, be
-suggested by such a statement as this, which we copy from the
-article in <i>The Chicago Advance</i> already referred to:
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131">{131}</a></span>
-"Our American population is principally Protestant, partly
-Romish, slightly Jewish, <i>and increasingly rationalistic or
-infidel</i>." Now, it is unquestionably true that the infidels in
-this country can count but very few amongst their number who ever
-knelt at a Catholic altar. Still, it is the theory of our
-opponents that ignorance is, in itself, the source of all evil,
-and the parent of impiety. It would certainly, therefore, be a
-terrible calamity for the country if the children of six millions
-of Catholics were deprived of education because their fathers
-paid no taxes! To educate them would be unanimously regarded as a
-public necessity; just as our police authorities remove contagion
-at the public expense. If this view of public economy be true,
-(and we need not dispute it in this argument,) then it follows
-that the question of educating the Catholics is altogether
-independent of what they do or do not contribute to the treasury.
-Educated they must be; but suppose that they steadily refuse to
-receive the knowledge offered, except upon the condition that
-their consciences shall not be violated, and their parental
-responsibilities disregarded, by subjecting their children to a
-training inconsistent with the spirit of their religion; how
-then? Will you consign the six millions to what you call the
-moral death of ignorance, and suffer their carcasses to putrefy
-upon the highway of your republican progress, poisoning the
-fountains of your national life? Or will you prefer, in the
-spirit of your institutions, to respect their conscientious
-opinions, and to enable them, in the manner we have already
-indicated, to coöperate with you in the full development of your
-great and noble policy of universal popular education?
-</p>
-<p>
-But, is it true that the Catholic people have no substantial
-claim as tax-payers? Such might have been the case twenty-five
-years ago; but every well-informed man knows that it is not so
-now. Wealth, amongst the Catholic population, may perhaps be less
-perceptible, because it is more diffused than it is amongst some
-other bodies of our citizens; but no man who is familiar with the
-cities of New York, Brooklyn, Baltimore, St. Louis, Chicago,
-Milwaukee, and all others, from the sources of the Mississippi to
-the Gulf, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific, or with the
-Catholic farm-settlements of the Western States, can shut his
-eyes to the fact that our Catholic people are thrifty and
-well-to-do in the world; and that very many of them possess large
-wealth. A member of the British Parliament, in a recent work upon
-the Irish in America, has demonstrated this by undeniable
-statistics. The same is true of Catholics here of all other
-nationalities. We have not the time nor space, neither is it
-necessary, to go into the details of this question. We suppose
-our readers to be intelligent and well-informed, and that they
-can readily recall to their minds the facts which substantiate
-the truth of our assertion.
-</p>
-<p>
-Are there those, sharp at a bargain, who will say, "Well! the
-Catholics have the resources to educate themselves, and are doing
-so now; let them continue the good work without calling upon the
-state for any portion of the public funds, to which they
-contribute by their taxes"? The dishonesty of such a proposition
-is shown in the simple statement of it. It is true, as we have
-said over and over again, that the Catholic people, after paying
-their taxes to the state, have, with a generous self-sacrifice
-amounting to heroism, established all over this country more
-universities, colleges, academies, free schools, and orphan
-asylums than have ever been founded by all the rest of the nation
-through private contributions.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132">{132}</a></span>
-A people capable of such great deeds in the cause of civilization
-and religion are not to be despised, <i>can never be
-repressed</i>, and certainly should not be denied justice, when
-they ask no more!
-</p>
-<p>
-We hope that we have satisfactorily answered the objections of
-those honest adversaries, with whom we will always be happy to
-interchange opinions in a spirit of candor and sincere respect.
-</p>
-<p>
-In order that our readers may obtain some idea of what the
-Catholic people, unaided by the state, have done and are doing
-for popular education in this country, we shall now present a
-brief summary or synopsis from Sadlier's <i>Catholic
-Directory</i> for 1868-9.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the archdiocese of Baltimore, there are ten literary
-institutions for young men, twelve female academies, and nine
-orphan asylums. We shall include the latter, in all instances,
-because they invariably have schools attached for the instruction
-of the orphans. There are in the same archdiocese about fifty
-parish and free schools, the average attendance at which, male
-and female, exceeds ten thousand.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the archdiocese of Cincinnati, comprising a part of the State
-of Ohio, there are three colleges, nine literary institutes for
-females, two orphan asylums, and seventy-six parochial schools,
-at which the average attendance is about twenty thousand.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the archdiocese of New Orleans, there are twenty academies and
-parochial schools for females, and ten academies and free schools
-for males; attended by seven thousand five hundred scholars; and
-one thousand four hundred orphans in the asylums.
-</p>
-<p>
-The archdiocese of New York comprises the city and county of New
-York, and the counties of Westchester, Putnam, Dutchess, Ulster,
-Sullivan, Orange, Rockland, and Richmond. We have lately examined
-a carefully prepared list of schools, more complete than that
-given in the directory, by which it appears that there are
-forty-nine, with a daily attendance of upward of twenty-three
-thousand children. Of these schools, twenty-six are in the city
-and county of New York, and have a daily attendance of over
-nineteen thousand pupils. We shall have occasion to speak more
-particularly of New York City at the close of this article.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the archdiocese of San Francisco, there are three colleges,
-three academies, thirty-two select and parochial schools, and two
-orphan asylums, providing for nearly seven thousand children, of
-whom about four hundred are orphans in the asylums, and upward of
-three thousand are free scholars.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the archdiocese of St. Louis, there are three literary
-institutions for males, nine for females, and twenty parochial or
-free schools, with seven thousand five hundred pupils in daily
-attendance, besides nine hundred orphans in four asylums.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the diocese of Albany, comprising that part of the State of
-New York north of the forty-second degree and east of the eastern
-line of Cayuga, Tompkins, and Tioga counties, there are six
-academies for males, and six for females, seven orphan asylums,
-ten select schools, and fifty-eight parochial schools, with an
-average attendance of between ten and eleven thousand.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133">{133}</a></span>
-<p>
-The diocese of Alton, comprising a portion of the state of
-Illinois, has two colleges for males and six academies for
-females, one orphan asylum, and fifty-six parochial schools, with
-an attendance of about seven thousand five hundred scholars.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Boston comprises the State of Massachusetts, and
-has two colleges, three female academies, thirteen parochial or
-free schools, five thousand eight hundred scholars, and five
-hundred and fifty orphans in the asylums.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Brooklyn comprises Long Island, and has one
-college in course of erection, eight female academies, nineteen
-parish schools, attended by over ten thousand scholars, and three
-asylums, and one industrial school, containing seven hundred
-orphans.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Buffalo comprises twelve counties of the State of
-New York, and has five literary institutions for males, sixteen
-for females, three orphan asylums, and twenty-four parochial
-schools, the attendance on which is specifically set down at
-something over eight thousand; but it is stated (page 137) that
-between eighteen and twenty thousand children attend the Catholic
-schools of that diocese.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Chicago comprises a portion of the State of
-Illinois, and has eight academies for females, seven colleges and
-academies for males, two orphan asylums, and forty-four parochial
-schools, attended by over twelve thousand children.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Cleveland, comprising a part of Ohio, contains one
-academy for males and six for females, four asylums sheltering
-four hundred orphans, and twenty free schools educating six
-thousand scholars.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Columbus, comprising a part of Ohio, has one
-female academy, twenty-three parochial schools, with over three
-thousand pupils; the exact number is not given.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Dubuque comprises the State of Iowa, and
-contains twelve academies and select schools, and parochial
-schools at nearly all the churches of the diocese, educating ten
-thousand children.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Fort Wayne comprises a part of Indiana, and has
-one college, one orphan asylum, eleven literary institutions, and
-thirty-eight parish schools.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Hartford comprises Rhode Island and Connecticut,
-and contains three literary institutions for males and six for
-females, twenty-one male and twenty-three female free schools,
-the former attended by forty-two hundred, and the latter by
-fifty-one hundred scholars, besides four hundred orphans in four
-asylums.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Milwaukee has two male and four female academies,
-and thirty-five free schools, attended by between six and seven
-thousand children, and four orphan asylums, containing over two
-hundred orphans.
-</p>
-<p>
-The diocese of Philadelphia contains eight academies and
-parochial schools, under the charge of the Christian Brothers,
-with twenty-five hundred scholars; forty-two other parochial
-schools, attended by ten thousand pupils; twenty-four academies
-and select schools for females; three colleges for males; and
-five asylums, now containing seven hundred and seventy-three male
-and female orphans.
-</p>
-<p>
-The above statement embraces but nineteen of the fifty-two
-dioceses and archdioceses in the United States, as it would
-extend this article to an unreasonable length were we to
-undertake to give the statistics of each; which, in regard to
-many of them, are not sufficiently full in the <i>Directory</i>
-to enable us to present satisfactory results.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134">{134}</a></span>
-Although in many of them the Catholic population is small and
-sparse, our readers would nevertheless be surprised, no doubt, to
-see how each one has struggled to supply itself with schools and
-charitable institutions; and how amazingly they have succeeded,
-when we consider the comparative scantiness of their resources.
-We have, however, given enough to afford some idea to our
-Protestant brethren of the vast interest which their Catholic
-fellow-citizens have in this question of the public-school fund,
-and of the great claim to the sympathy and good-will of the
-country which they have established by their unparalleled efforts
-in the cause of popular education.
-</p>
-<p>
-As we have shown above, the Catholics of the archdiocese of New
-York are educating twenty-three thousand of their children,
-nineteen thousand within the city limits. The value of their
-school property is placed at eleven hundred and fifty thousand
-dollars. For the education of these twenty-three thousand, it is
-estimated that their annual expense does not exceed one hundred
-and thirty thousand dollars. The actual cost of the Catholic free
-schools in New York City is put down at $104,430 for nineteen
-thousand four hundred and twenty-eight scholars; which is about
-five dollars and a half for each. We have before us the <i>Report
-of the Board of Education for 1867</i>, from which it appears
-that "the cost per head for educating the children in the public
-schools under the control of the Board of Education for the year
-ending 1867, based upon the cost for teachers' salaries, fuel and
-gas, was $19.75 on the average attendance, or $8.50 on the whole
-number taught." Adding the cost of books and stationery, each
-pupil cost $21.76 on the average attendance, or $9.40 on the
-whole number taught. The basis of the above calculation is:
-<i>Teachers' salaries</i>, $1,497,180.88; <i>fuel</i>, (estimated
-in a gross amount of expenses,) $163,315.12, and <i>gas</i>,
-$13,998.96, making a total of $1,674,496.96. But in fact the
-<i>actual expenditures</i> for 1867 were $2,973,877.41; which
-cover items that enter equally into the estimate we have given of
-the Catholic expenditures for school purposes. In that year New
-York City paid to the state as its proportion of school tax
-$455,088.27; out of which it received back by apportionment
-$242,280.04, a little more than one half, the rest being its
-contribution to the counties; at the same time the city raised
-for its own schools nearly $2,500,000; being the ten-dollar tax
-for each scholar taught, and the one twentieth of one per cent of
-the valuation of the real and personal property of the city. From
-this our readers will gather some idea of what popular education
-can cost, even with the best management.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is well known that the Catholic people, through their church
-organizations, and by the unpaid assistance of their religious
-orders, such as the Christian Brothers, possess peculiar
-advantages, which enable them to conduct the largest and
-best-arranged schools at the smallest possible cost. Why will not
-the state permit us to do it? Or, rather, why will not the state
-do us the justice to reimburse the actual expenses which we make
-in doing it? For it is a thing which we have already accomplished
-to a great extent. Suppose that the city of New York was now
-educating the nineteen thousand children who attend our schools;
-at $19.75 each, it would cost $375,250; or at $8.50 each it would
-cost $161,500, this last sum being sixty thousand dollars more
-than we pay for the same!
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135">{135}</a></span>
-We have shown, however, that this calculation cannot be made to
-rest upon the basis given by the board, when you come to
-institute a comparison between the expenditures for the public
-schools and for ours. We are willing, nevertheless, to rest our
-claim even upon such a contrast as those figures show; and we ask
-the tax-payers of New York whether they are willing to follow the
-lead of our adversaries and add a few hundred thousand dollars
-extra to the annual taxes, for the satisfaction of doing us
-injustice?
-</p>
-<p>
-It is universally conceded that the school-rooms of New York are
-dangerously over-crowded; and the Board of Education finds it
-almost impossible to meet the growing necessities of the city.
-There are still thousands of Catholics and Protestants unprovided
-for. Give us the means, and we will speedily see that there is no
-Catholic child in New York left without the opportunity of
-education. We will do this upon the strictest terms of
-accountability to the state. We will conduct our schools up to
-the highest standard that our legislators may think proper to
-adopt for the regulation of the public school system. We shall
-never shrink from the most rigid official scrutiny and
-inspection. We shall only ask that, whilst we literally follow
-the requirements of the state as to the course of secular
-education, we shall not be required to place in the hands of our
-children books that are hostile to their faith, or to omit giving
-to their young souls that spiritual food which we deem to be
-essential for eternal life.
-</p>
-<p>
-In all sincerity and truth we must say, that we have not yet
-heard an argument which could shake our faith in the justice of
-our cause; and that it will ultimately prevail, by the blessing
-of Providence, we cannot possibly doubt; for, we have an abiding
-confidence in the integrity and generosity of the American
-people.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-  <h2>The Omnibus Two Hundred Years Ago.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-"I allays thought till to-day," remarked elegant John Thomas to
-Jeames, as they were clinging to the back of their mistress's
-carriage during a shopping drive in Bond street, London, "that
-them 'air nuisances the 'busses was inwented in this 'ear
-nineteen centry."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I allays thinked so," responded Jeames sententiously.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not a bit," resumed John Thomas, "them air celebrated people the
-Romans, the same as talked Lat'n, you know, 'ad plenty of 'em.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Ow d'you know that?" inquired Jaemes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I seed it this blessed morning in one o' master's Lat'n books. I
-was a tryin' what I could make out of Lat'n, and I seed that word
-'<i>omnibus</i>' ever so many times; and that's the correc' name
-for 'bus&mdash;' <i>bus</i> is the wulgar happerlation."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know that," growled Jeames.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Ow true it is, as King David singed to 'is 'arp, there's
-nothing new under the sun!" exclaimed John Thomas
-enthusiastically.
-</p>
-<p>
-The carriage stopped at this moment and the interesting
-conversation was interrupted.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136">{136}</a></span>
-<p>
-But although people who understand more Latin than John Thomas
-have not yet discovered that the Romans were acquainted with that
-cheap and convenient mode of conveyance, they may have believed,
-like him, that omnibuses were a modern invention, and may be
-surprised to learn that, more than two hundred years ago, in the
-reign of Louis the Fourteenth, Paris possessed for a time a
-regular line of these now indispensable vehicles.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nicolas Sauvage, at the sign of St. Fiacre, in the Rue St.
-Martin, had been accustomed for many years to let out carriages
-by the hour or day; but his prices were too high for any but the
-rich; and so in the year 1657, a certain De Givry obtained
-permission to "establish in the crossways and public places of
-the city and suburbs of Paris such a number of two-horse coaches
-and caleches as he should consider necessary; to be exposed there
-from seven in the morning until seven in the evening, at the hire
-of all who needed them, whether by the hour, the half-hour, day,
-or otherwise, at the pleasure of those who wished to make use of
-them to be carried from one place to another, wherever their
-affairs called them, either in the city and suburbs of Paris, or
-as far as four or five leagues in the environs," etc., etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-This was a decided step in advance; but the prices of these
-hackney coaches were still too high for the public generally, and
-they consequently did not meet with the success anticipated. At
-length, in 1662, appeared the really cheap and popular
-conveyance&mdash;the omnibus&mdash;under the patronage of the Duke of
-Roanès the Marquis of Sourches, and the Marquis of Crenan. These
-noblemen solicited and obtained letters patent for a great
-speculation&mdash;carriages to contain eight persons, at five sous the
-seat, and running at fixed hours on specified routes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"On the 18th of March, 1662," says Sauval, in his <i>Antiquities
-of Paris</i>, "seven coaches were driven for the first time
-through the streets that lead from the Porte St. Martin to the
-palace of the Luxembourg; they <i>were assailed with stones and
-hisses by the populace</i>."
-</p>
-<p>
-This last assertion is much to be doubted; more especially as
-Madame Perier, the sister of the great Pascal, has described in
-an interesting letter to Arnauld de Pomponne, the general joy and
-satisfaction that the appearance of these cheap conveyances gave
-rise to in the people; a state of feeling which seems far more
-probable than that which <i>stones and hisses</i> would manifest.
-</p>
-<p>
-Madame Perier writes as follows:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "PARIS, March 21, 1662.<br>
-  "As every one has been appointed to some special office in this
-  affair of the coaches, I have solicited with eagerness and have
-  been so fortunate as to obtain that of announcing its success;
-  therefore, sir, each time that you see my writing, be assured
-  of receiving good news.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The establishment commenced last Saturday morning, at seven
-  o'clock, with wonderful pomp and splendor. The seven carriages
-  provided for this route were first distributed. Three were sent
-  to the Porte St. Martin, and four were placed before the
-  Luxembourg, where at the same time were stationed two
-  commissaries of the Chatelet in their robes, four guards of the
-  high provost, ten or twelve of the city archers, and as many
-  men on horseback. When everything was ready, the commissaries
-  proclaimed the establishment, explained its usefulness,
-  exhorted the citizens to uphold it, and declared to the lower
-  classes that the slightest insult would be punished with the
-  utmost severity; and all this was delivered in the king's name.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137">{137}</a></span>
-  Afterward they gave the coachmen their coats, which are
-  blue&mdash;the king's color as well as the city's color&mdash;with the
-  arms of the king and of the city embroidered on the bosom; and
-  then they gave the order to start.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "One of the coaches immediately went off, carrying inside one
-  of the high provost's guards. Half a quarter of an hour after,
-  another coach set off, and then the two others at the same
-  intervals of time, each carrying a guard who was to remain
-  therein all day. At the same time the city archers and the men
-  on horseback dispersed themselves on the route.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "At the Porte Saint Martin the same ceremonies were observed,
-  at the same hour, with the three coaches that had been sent
-  there, and there were the same arrangements respecting the
-  guards, the archers and the men on horseback. In short, the
-  affair was so well conducted that not the slightest confusion
-  took place, and those coaches were started as peaceably as the
-  others.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The thing indeed has succeeded perfectly; the very first
-  morning the coaches were filled, and several women even were
-  among the passengers; but in the afternoon the crowd was so
-  great that one could not get near them; and every day since it
-  has been the same, so that we find by experience that the
-  greatest inconvenience is the one you apprehended; people wait
-  in the street for the arrival of one of these coaches, in order
-  to get in. When it comes, it is full; this is vexatious; but
-  there is a consolation; for it is known that another will
-  arrive in half a quarter of an hour; this other arrives, and it
-  also is full; and after this has been repeated several times,
-  the aspirant is at length obliged to continue his way on foot.
-  That you may not think that I exaggerate I will tell you what
-  happened to myself. I was waiting at the door of St. Mary's
-  Church, in the Rue de la Verrerie, feeling a great desire to
-  return home in a coach; for it is pretty far from my brother's
-  house. But I had the vexation of seeing five coaches pass
-  without being able to get a seat; all were full: and during the
-  whole time that I was waiting, I heard blessings bestowed on
-  the originators of an establishment so advantageous to the
-  public. As every one spoke his thoughts, some said the affair
-  was very well invented, but that it was a great fault to have
-  put only seven coaches on the route; that they were not
-  sufficient for half the people who had need of them, and that
-  there ought to have been at least twenty. I listened to all
-  this, and I was in such a bad temper from having missed five
-  coaches that at the moment I was quite of their opinion. In
-  short, the applause is universal, and it may be said that
-  nothing was ever better begun.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The first and second days, there was a crowd on the Pont-Neuf
-  and in all the streets to watch the coaches pass; and it was
-  very amusing to see the workmen cease their labor to look at
-  them, so that no more work was done all Saturday throughout the
-  whole route than if it had been a holiday. Smiling faces were
-  seen everywhere, not smiles of ridicule, but of content and
-  joy; and this convenience is found so great that every one
-  desires it for his own quarter.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The shopkeepers of the Rue St. Denis demanded a route with so
-  much importunity that they even spoke of presenting a petition.
-  Preparations were being made to give them one next week; but
-  yesterday morning M. de Roanès, M. de Crenan, and M. the High
-  Provost (M. de Sourches) being all three at the Louvre, the
-  king talked very pleasantly about the novelty, and addressing
-  those gentlemen, said,' And <i>our</i> route, will you not soon
-  establish it?'
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138">{138}</a></span>
-  These words oblige them to think of the Rue St. Honoré, and to
-  defer for some days the Rue St. Denis. Besides this, the king,
-  speaking on the same subject, said that he desired that all
-  those who were guilty of the slightest insolence should be
-  severely punished, and that he would not permit this
-  establishment to be molested.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "This is the present position of the undertaking. I am sure you
-  will not be less surprised than we are at its great success; it
-  has far surpassed all our hopes. I shall not fail to send you
-  exact word of every pleasant thing that happens, according to
-  the office conferred on me, and to supply the place of my
-  brother, who would be happy to undertake the duty if he could
-  write.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I wish with all my heart that I may have matter to write to
-  you every week, both for your satisfaction and for other
-  reasons that you can well guess. I am your obedient servant,
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                                             G. PASCAL."
-</p>
-<p>
-Postscript in the handwriting of Pascal, and very probably the
-last lines he ever traced: he died in August of the same year:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I will add to the above, that the day before yesterday, at the
-  king's <i>petit coucher</i>, a dangerous assault was made
-  against us by two courtiers distinguished by their rank and
-  wit, which would have ruined us by turning us into ridicule,
-  and would have given rise to all sorts of attacks, had not the
-  king answered so obligingly and so dryly with respect to the
-  excellence of the undertaking, so that they speedily put up
-  their weapons. I have no more paper. Adieu&mdash;entirely yours."
-</p>
-<p>
-Sauval affirms that Pascal was the inventor of this cheap coach,
-and Madame de Sévigné seems to allude to the enterprise in a
-passage of one of her letters which commences "<i>apropos</i> of
-Pascal." It is certain that he and his sister were pecuniarily
-interested in the speculation, and it is more than probable that
-it was he who induced his rich friend the Duke of Roanès, to take
-so prominent a part in the undertaking. But we must not consider
-Pascal in the light of a vulgar speculator&mdash;earthly interests
-affected him but little personally&mdash;deeds of charity, the many
-ills and pains of premature old age, and the sad task of watching
-over a life always on the brink of extinction, almost wholly
-engrossed his thoughts during his last years. He saw in this
-affair an advantage to the public in general, and if any
-pecuniary profits resulted, his share was intended for the
-benefit of the poor, as is very evident by the following extract
-from the little work Madame Perier dedicated to the memory of her
-brother.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "As soon as the affair of the coaches was settled, he told me
-  he wished to ask the farmers for an advance of a thousand
-  francs to send to the poor at Blois. When I told him that the
-  success of the enterprise was not sufficiently assured for him
-  to make this request, he replied that he saw no inconvenience
-  in it, because, if the affair did not prosper, he would repay
-  the money from his estate, and he did not like to wait until
-  the end of the year, because the necessities of the poor were
-  too urgent to defer charity. As no arrangement could be made
-  with the farmers, he could not gratify his desire. On this
-  occasion we perceived the truth of what he had so often told
-  me, that he wished for riches only that he might be able to
-  help the poor; for the moment God gave him the hope of
-  possessing wealth, even before he was assured of it, he began
-  to distribute it."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139">{139}</a></span>
-<p>
-In the ninth volume of the <i>Ordonnances de Louis XIV.</i>, we
-find, concerning the establishment of coaches in the city of
-Paris, that these cheap conveyances are permitted "for the
-convenience of a great number of persons ill-accommodated, such
-as pleaders, infirm people, and others, who, not having the means
-of hiring chairs or carriages because they cost a pistole or two
-crowns at least the day, can thus be carried for a moderate price
-by means of this establishment of coaches, which are always to
-make the same journeys in Paris from one quarter to another, the
-longest at five sous the seat, and the others less; the suburbs
-in proportion; and which are always to start at fixed hours,
-however small the number of persons then assembled, and even
-empty, if no person should present himself, without obliging
-those who make use of this convenience to pay more for their
-places," etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-These regulations are similar to those of our modern omnibus; but
-the quality of the passengers was more arbitrary; for in the
-tenth volume of this same <i>Register</i>, we find it enacted
-that "Soldiers, Pages, Lacqueys and other gentry in Livery, also
-Mechanics and Workmen shall not be able to enter the said
-coaches," etc., etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first route was opened on the 18th of March; the second on
-the 11th of April, running from the Rue Saint Antoine to the Rue
-Saint Honoré, as high as St. Roch's church. On this second
-opening, a placard announced to the citizens that the directors
-"had received advice of some inconveniences that might annoy
-persons desirous of making use of their conveyances, such, for
-instance, when the coachman refuses to stop to take them up on
-the route, even though there are empty places, and other similar
-occurrences; this is to give notice that all the coaches have
-been numbered, and that the number is placed at the top of the
-moutons, on each side of the coachman's box, together with the
-fleur de lis&mdash;one, two, three, etc., according to the number of
-coaches on each route. And so those who have any reason to
-complain of the coachman, are prayed to remember the number of
-the coach, and to give advice of it to the clerk of one of the
-offices, so that order may be established."
-</p>
-<p>
-The third route, which ran from the Rue Montmartre and the Rue
-Neuve Saint Eustache to the Luxembourg Palace, was opened on the
-22d of May of the same year. The placard which conveys the
-announcement to the public, gives notice also, "that to prevent
-the delay of money-changing, which always consumes much time, no
-gold will be received."
-</p>
-<p>
-Every arrangement having thus been made to render these cheap
-coaches useful and agreeable, they very soon became the fashion;
-a three act comedy in verse, entitled, "The intrigue of the
-coaches at five sous," written by an actor named Chevalier, was
-even represented in 1662 at the Theatre of the Marais. An extract
-from this play is given in the history of the French Theatre, by
-the Brothers Parfaict.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the ingenious and useful innovation on the old hackney-coach
-system, though so well conducted and so well administered, so
-highly protected, and so warmly welcomed, was not destined to
-live long. After a very few years, the undertaking failed, and
-the omnibus was forgotten for nearly two centuries! Sauval tells
-us that Pascal's death was the cause of this misfortune; but the
-coaches continued to prosper for three or four years after that
-event.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140">{140}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Every one," says Sauval, in a curious page of his
-<i>Antiquities</i>, "during two years found these coaches so
-convenient that auditors and masters of <i>comptes</i>,
-counsellors of the Chatelet and of the court, made no scruple to
-use them to go to the Chatelet or to the palace, and this caused
-the price to be raised one sou; even the Duke of Enghien
-[Footnote 48] has travelled in them. But what do I say? The king,
-when passing the summer at Saint-Germain, whither he had
-consented that these coaches should come, went in one of them,
-for his amusement, from the old castle, where he was staying, to
-the new one to visit the queen-mother. Notwithstanding this great
-fashion, these coaches were so despised three or four years after
-their establishment that no one would make use of them, and their
-ill success was attributed to the death of Pascal, the celebrated
-mathematician; it is said that he was the inventor of them, as
-well as the leader of the enterprise; it is moreover assured that
-he had made their horoscope and given them to the publicunder a
-certain constellation whose bad influences he knew how to turn
-aside."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 48: Henri-Jules de Bourbon-Condé, son of the great
-    Condé.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We can give no description of this ancient omnibus; no drawing or
-engraving of it is believed to exist; but it is probable that it
-resembled the coaches represented in the paintings of Van der
-Meulan and Martin.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is impossible to attribute to any other cause than that of the
-arbitrary choice of passengers, the failure of an undertaking
-which appeared to possess every element of success. The people
-who <i>needed</i> the cheap coach were debarred from the use of
-it; the tired artisan returning from his hard day's work; the
-jaded soldier hurrying to his barrack before the beat of the
-tattoo that recalled him had ceased; the pale seamstress with her
-bundle; each was refused the five sous lift, and had to foot the
-weary way; while the aristocracy and rich middle class enjoyed
-the ride, not as a social want, but as a fashionable diversion,
-and tired of it after a time, as fashionable people even now tire
-of everything fashionable. It was reserved for the marvellous
-nineteenth century, so fruitful in good works, to endow us with
-the true omnibus, that is, a carriage for the use of every one
-indiscriminately, in which the gentleman and the laborer, the
-rich man and the poor man can ride side by side. This really
-<i>popular</i> conveyance has now become in all highly civilized
-communities so veritable a <i>necessity</i> and habit that it can
-never again fall and be forgotten like its faulty forerunner, or
-the omnibus of two hundred years ago.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-      <h2>New Publications.</h2>
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Travels In The East-indian Archipelago.<br>
-  By Albert S. Brickmose, M.A.<br>
-  With Illustrations. 1 vol. 8vo, pp. 553.<br>
-  New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This elegantly got up volume of travel the author tells us, in
-his preface, is taken from his journal, "kept day by day," while
-on a visit to the islands described, the object of which visit
-was to re-collect the shells figured in Rumphen's <i>Pariteit
-Kamer</i>. The author travelled from Batavia, in Java, along the
-north coast of that island to Samarang and Surabaya; thence to
-Macassar, the capital of Celebes; thence south through Sapi
-Strait, between Sumbawa and Floris, and eastward to the southern
-end of Timur, (near the northwestern extremity of Australia;)
-thence along the west coast of Timur to Dilli, and north to the
-Banda Islands and Amboina.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141">{141}</a></span>
-Having passed several months in the Moluccas, or Spice Islands,
-he revisited the Bandas, and ascended their active volcano.
-Returning to Amboina, he travelled in Ceram and Buru, and
-continued northward to Gilolo. Thence he crossed the Molucca
-Passage to the Minahassa, or northern end of the Island of
-Celebes, probably the most beautiful spot on the surface of our
-globe.
-</p>
-<p>
-Returning to Batavia, he proceeded to Padang, and thence made a
-long journey through the interior of the island to the land of
-the cannibals. Having succeeded in making his way for a hundred
-miles through that dangerous people, he came down to the coast
-and returned to Padang. Again he went up into the interior, and
-examined all the coffee-lands. From Padang he came down to
-Bencoolen, and succeeded in making his way over the mountains and
-down the rivers to the Island of Banca, and was thence carried to
-Singapore. This work opens a new field, hitherto but little
-known, to the reader of books of travel and adventure. His
-descriptions, if not always very vivid, are told in a clear,
-unaffected manner, without that egotism so often found in books
-of travel.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Instruments Of The Passion Of Our Lord Jesus Christ.<br>
-  By the Rev. Dr. J. E. Veith,<br>
-  Preacher at the Cathedral of Vienna.<br>
-  Translated by Rev. Theodore Noethen,<br>
-  Pastor of the Church of the Holy Cross. Albany, N. Y.<br>
-  Boston: Patrick Donahoe.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dr. Veith, a convert from Judaism, is one of the most
-distinguished writers and preachers of Vienna. The present work
-is rich in thought and original in style. It is one of a series
-which the translator proposes to bring out in an English dress,
-if he receives encouragement, as we hope he may. F. Noethen,
-although a German, writes English remarkably well, and deserves
-great credit for his zeal and assiduity in translating so many
-excellent and practical works of piety. In point of excellence in
-typography and mechanical execution, this book deserves to be
-classed with the best which have been issued by the Catholic
-press.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Life And Works Of St. AEngussius Hagiographus,
-  or Saint AEngus the Culdee, Bishop and Abbot at
-  Clonenagh and Dysartenos, Queens County.<br>
-  By the Rev. John O'Hanlon.<br>
-  Dublin: John F. Fowler,<br>
-  3 Crow street. 1868.<br>
-  For sale by the Catholic Publication Society, New York.
-</p>
-<p>
-This tract is a treatise on the life and writings of an humble
-and laborious monk of the early ages in Ireland, who published,
-if we may use the expression, his <i>Felire,</i> Fessology, or
-Calendar of Irish saints, as long ago as 804. From the
-biographical and historical value of this poetical work, St.
-AEngus ranks among the very earliest of the historical writers of
-modern Europe. In this view, no less than to draw attention to
-one whose holy life induced the Irish church to ascribe his name
-on the dyptics, it is well that the present generation should be
-asked to pause and look upon this life, so humble, laborious, and
-holy, and which so strongly commended him to the veneration of
-succeeding ages. The Rev. Mr. O'Hanlon treats his subject
-systematically, displaying great research and sound criticism,
-and it is to be hoped that his treatise will induce some of the
-publishing societies in Ireland to issue an edition of the works
-of this venerated father of the Irish church.
-</p>
-<p>
-The <i>Felire</i> of St. AEngus consists of three distinct parts:
-the first, the Invocation, containing five stanzas, implores the
-grace of Christ on the work; the second, comprising 220 stanzas,
-is a preface and conclusion to the main poem; the third part
-contains 365 stanzas, one for each day of the year. They comprise
-not only the saints peculiar to Ireland, but others drawn from
-early martyrologies. This poem was regarded in the early Irish
-church with great veneration, and the copies that have descended
-to us have a running gloss or commentary on each verse, making it
-a short biography of the saint briefly mentioned in the poem.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142">{142}</a></span>
-In this form its value has long been known to scholars, whose
-frequent use of it shows the light it frequently helps to throw
-on Irish history and topography. We trust that the work of the
-Rev. Mr. O'Hanlon will not be fruitless.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Essays And Lectures on,<br>
-  1. The Early History of Maryland;<br>
-  2. Mexico and Mexican Affairs;<br>
-  3. A Mexican Campaign;<br>
-  4. Homoeopathy;<br>
-  5. Elements of Hygiene;<br>
-  6. Health and Happiness.<br>
-  By Richard McSherry, M.D., Professor of Principles and Practice
-  of Medicine, University of Maryland.<br>
-  Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. 1869. Pp. 125.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  The Early History Of Maryland.
-</p>
-<p>
-The sketch of colonial Maryland is drawn with a masterly hand,
-showing, in the first place, the author's thorough knowledge of
-its history; and, secondly, the poetic language in which his
-ideas are couched tell plainly how completely his heart is imbued
-with love for his native Terra Mariae.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dr. McSherry is right when he calls his State "the brightest gem
-in the American cluster." To the Catholics of this broad land it
-is surely so; and the names of Sir George Calvert and his noble
-sons, the founders of this "Land of the Sanctuary," should be
-enshrined with love and reverence in the hearts of all who
-profess the old faith and appreciate our religious liberty.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  Mexico And Mexican Affairs.
-</p>
-<p>
-The article on "Mexico and Mexican Affairs" was written at the
-suggestion of the editor of <i>The Southern Review</i>, and is a
-synopsis of the political history of Mexico from the time of the
-conquest to the tragical end of the ill-fated Prince Maximilian.
-</p>
-<p>
-As a colonial possession of Spain, Mexico enjoyed a more quiet
-existence and a more stable government than either before or
-since that period of its history. "Churches, schools, and
-hospitals were distributed over the land; good roads were made,
-and, without going into detail, industrial pursuits were
-generally in honor, and were rewarded with success."
-</p>
-<p>
-Political revolution again agitated the country in the
-commencement of this century, followed by the establishment of an
-empire under Iturbide; this in turn gave place to a republican
-form of government in 1824.
-</p>
-<p>
-No stronger proof of the belief of our order-loving and
-law-abiding neighbors in the republican doctrine of rotation in
-office can be given than the fact that during the forty years of
-the Republican government "<i>the record shows forty-six changes
-in the presidential chair.</i>" The accounts of revolution and
-counter-revolution among the dominant spirits of that time beggar
-description, and leave us to conclude that a frightful condition
-of strife, desolation, and misery reigned throughout the entire
-period. "The rulers of Mexico kept no faith with their own
-people; none with foreigners or foreign nations. They gave
-abundant cause for the declaration of war made against them by
-England, France, and Spain, and for the provocation of the war by
-France, when the other powers withdrew." The author describes the
-inducements held out by the assembly of notables to Maximilian,
-after the French occupation, to accept the throne; and how at
-last he unfortunately acceded to the request, and sailed for Vera
-Cruz in May, 1864. The subsequent career of this nobleman, who
-had thus linked his fate with that of Mexico is feelingly
-depicted. It was but a short period of three years from his
-"splendid reception at Guadalupe, when about entering his
-capital, to his fall by Mexican treachery, and subsequent murder
-on the 19th of June, 1867." The author blames ex-Secretary Seward
-for not preventing this tragical end of the amiable and highly
-cultivated prince, and thinks that as the Indian Juarez had been
-enabled to prosecute his illegal claim to the presidency by the
-support and comfort derived from the United States, he would not
-have dared refuse a claim for this boon, made in a proper spirit,
-by Mr. Seward.
-</p>
-<p>
-The names of Maximilian and his devoted, beautiful Carlotta will
-always bring moisture to the eyes of those who can sympathize
-with the afflictions and sufferings of their fellow-beings.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mexico has commenced a new chapter of her history. True, the
-preface so far is not encouraging; but let us hope her experience
-in the past may cause a better record for the future.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143">{143}</a></span>
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-       A Mexican Campaign Sketch.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is an interesting account of the author's travels, as
-surgeon, with the army which, in 1847, under General Scott,
-fought its way through the historical battles of Contreras,
-Churubusco, Molino del Rey, to Chapultepec: and the final
-entrance, on the 14th of September, to the Mexican capital. The
-description of the appearance of the valley of Mexico, as the
-army descended the mountain side, is very beautiful. The author
-says, "The valley or basin of Mexico lay spread out like a
-panorama of fairy land; opening, closing, and shifting, according
-to the changing positions of the observers. At times nothing
-would be visible but dark recesses in the mountain, or the grim
-forest that shaded the road; when in a moment a sudden turn would
-unfold, as if by magic, a scene that looked too lovely to be
-real. It was an enchantment in nature; for, knowing as we did
-that we beheld <i>bona fide</i> lakes and mountains, plains and
-villages, chapels and hamlets, all so bright, so clear, and so
-beautiful, it still seemed an illusion of the senses, a dream, or
-a perfection of art&mdash;nay, in the mountain circle we could see the
-very picture-frame."
-</p>
-<p>
-How long the mixed races of this beautiful country are to
-continue their tragical and at times ludicrous efforts at
-self-government is a problem to be solved in the future.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-         An Epistle On Homoeopathy.
-</p>
-<p>
-The doctor's logical arguments in this article we would recommend
-to the perusal of our friends who prefer the more palatable
-medicine of that school,
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-         Lecture On Hygiene.<br>
-         A Lecture On Health And Happiness.
-</p>
-<p>
-These lectures contain many sound practical hints for the general
-reader whereby he may avoid many causes of disease, and prolong
-his life to a natural limit. We give the doctor's testimony on
-two interesting points. He says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Excesses at table are disastrous enough, and in this they are
-  worse than over devotion to Bacchus; namely, that they
-  undermine more slowly and more insidiously; but otherwise,
-  strong drinks are vastly worse. There are persons who think
-  wines and liquors essential to health; but as the rule, they
-  are useless at best; and at worst, destructive to soul, and
-  body, and mind. Strict total abstinence is generally, I might
-  say universally safe; while even temperate indulgence is rarely
-  safe or salutary." (P. 119.)
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Tobacco deserves the next place. It is most marvellous how
-  this nauseous weed has taken hold upon the affections of man.
-  It surely is of no benefit to health, but I dare not say it
-  conduces nothing to happiness. When I see an old friend take
-  his pipe, or cigar, after the labors of the day, and the
-  evening meal; when his good honest face beams beneath the
-  fragrant smoke which rises like incense, making a wreath around
-  his gray hairs; when his heart expands, and he becomes genially
-  social and confidential, I can hardly ask Hygeia to rob him of
-  his simple pleasure. A good cigar is almost akin to the 'cup
-  that cheers, yet not inebriates.' But honestly, tobacco is
-  pernicious in all its forms; not like whiskey, indeed, but
-  still pernicious." (P. 121.)
-</p>
-<p>
-As an entirety, the doctor's book presents a charming diversity
-of subjects, each in itself of sufficient interest to chain the
-earnest attention of the reader, and well repay him for its
-perusal.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<p class="cite">
-  John M. Costello; Or, The Beauty Of
-  Virtue Exemplified In An American Youth.<br>
-  Baltimore: John Murphy & Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This neat little volume contains a well-written memoir of a young
-aspirant to the priesthood who died a few years ago at the
-preparatory seminary of St. Charles.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is a peculiar charm about the life of a pious Catholic boy
-whose heart has always yearned after the realization of the
-highest type of Christian virtue. Such a life presents a picture
-of simple beauty, in which the smallest details present points of
-more than common interest. One sees here how truly the
-supernatural life of grace illumines and adorns the commonest
-actions of the Christian, and clothes them with a merit that
-purely human virtue would never gather from them. There is
-nothing in the life of a St. Aloysius or a St. Stanislaus,
-however insignificant or commonplace in the eyes of the world,
-that can be deemed trivial or unworthy of record.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144">{144}</a></span>
-Whatever they do is a saintly act. Their words are the words of a
-saint. This is the secret of the wonderful influence which the
-history of these pure souls has exerted on the minds and hearts
-of the thousands and tens of thousands to whom it has become
-known. This thought was constantly before us while perusing the
-present beautiful tribute to the memory of young Costello. It is
-impossible to read the description of the most ordinary events of
-the life of this holy child of God without emotion. What in
-others of his age and general character might justly be unworthy
-of note in him becomes worthy to be written in letters of gold.
-We would say to all Catholic parents, among the hundreds of
-volumes standing on the bookseller's shelves inviting purchase by
-their gay bindings and prettily illustrated pages, and almost
-forcing themselves into your hands as birthday or holiday
-presents to your darling children, choose this one, and teach
-them, by the winning example of such virtue as they will here see
-presented to them, to emulate, not the daring exploits of some
-lion-killer or wild adventurer, or, it may be, the imaginary
-success of some fortunate youth in the pursuit of riches, but
-rather the heroism, the piety, the humility, the chastity, the
-self-renunciation of the Christian saint. All who love God and
-have the spiritual interests of our Catholic youth at heart will
-feel deeply grateful to the reverend author for having given to
-the world his knowledge of a life so well calculated to edify and
-inspire its readers with admiration of what is, after all, the
-highest and best within the sphere of human aim, to lead a holy
-life, and die, though it be in the flower of youth, the death of
-a saint. Let us have more books like this one, that, with God's
-blessing on the lessons they impart, we may have more such lives.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-P. F. Cunningham, Philadelphia, is about to publish <i>The
-Montarges Legacy</i>, and <i>The Life of St. Stanislaus.</i>
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="center">
-       Books Received.
-</p>
-<p>
-From John Murphy & Co., Baltimore:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  New editions of the following books:
-<br><br>
-  Practical Piety set forth by St. Francis de Sales,<br>
-  Bishop and Prince of Geneva.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo, pp. 360, $1.
-<br><br>
-  A Spiritual Retreat of Eight Days.<br>
-  By the Right Rev. John M. David, D.D.,<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo. $1.
-<br><br>
-  Kyriale; or, Ordinary of Mass: a Complete Liturgical Manual,
-  with Gregorian Chants, etc.; in round or square notes, each
-  $1.25.
-<br><br>
-  The Holy Week: containing the Offices of Holy Week, from the
-  Roman Breviary and Missal, with the chants in modern notation.
-  $1.25.
-<br><br>
-  Roman Vesperal: containing the complete Vespers for the whole
-  year, with Gregorian Chants in modern notation. $1.50.
-</p>
-<p>
-From W. B. Kelly, Dublin:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Catholic Church in America. A Lecture delivered before the
-  Historical and AEsthetical Society in the Catholic University
-  of Ireland.<br>
-  By Thaddeus J. Butler, D.D., Chicago.
-  For sale by the Catholic Publication Society,
-  126 Nassau street. 25 cents.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Kelly, Piet & Co., Baltimore:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Wreath of Eglantine, and other Poems:<br>
-  Edited and in part composed by Daniel Bedinger Lucas.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo, $1.50.
-<br><br>
-  Eudoxia; a Picture of the Fifth Century.
-  Translated from the German of Ida, Countess Hahn Hahn.
-  1 vol. 12mo, $1.50.
-</p>
-<p>
-From D. & J. Sadlier & Co.:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  St. Dominic's Manual; or, Tertiary's Guide.<br>
-  By two Fathers of the Order.<br>
-  1 vol. 18mo, pp. 533.
-</p>
-<p>
-From C. Darveau, Quebec, C. E.:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  St. Patrick's Manual, for the use of Young People, prepared by
-  the Christian Brothers.<br>
-  1 vol. 24mo, pp. 648.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Leypoldt & Holt, New York:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Fisher Maiden: a Norwegian Tale.<br>
-  By Bjornstjerne Bjornson.<br>
-  From the author's German edition, by M. E. Niles.<br>
-  12mo, pp. 217, $1.25.
-<br><br>
-  The Gain of a Loss: a Novel.<br>
-  By the author of The Last of the Cavaliers.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo, pp. 439, $1.75.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Clark & Maynard, New York:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  A Manual of General History: being an Outline History of the
-  World from the Creation to the Present Time. Fully illustrated
-  with maps. For the use of academies, high-schools, and
-  families.<br>
-  By John J. Anderson, A.M.<br>
-  Pp. 400.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Ivison, Phinney, Blakeman & Co., New York: A
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Dictionary of the English Language, Explanatory, Pronouncing,
-  Etymological, and Synonymous.
-  Counting-House Edition.<br>
-  With an appendix containing various useful tables. Mainly
-  abridged from the latest edition of the Qutarto Dictionary of
-  Noah Webster, LL. D.<br>
-  By William G. Webster and William A. Wheeler.<br>
-  Illustrated with more than three hundred engravings on wood.<br>
-  Pp. 630.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Longmans, Green, Reader & Dyer, London:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Formation of Christendom. Part II.<br>
-  By T. W. Allies.<br>
-  1 vol. 8vo, pp. 495.<br>
-  The Catholic Publication Society having made arrangements with
-  Mr. Allies to supply his book in America, will soon have this
-  volume for sale. Price, $6.
-</p>
-<p>
-From James Duffy, Dublin:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Life and Writings of the Rev. Arthur O'Leary.<br>
-  By the Rev. M. B. Buckley.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo, pp. 410.
-</p>
-<p>
-From W. W. Swayne, New York and Brooklyn:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott.<br>
-  Vol. 1, paper, 25 cents.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Harper & Brothers:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Poetical Works of Charles G. Halpine.<br>
-  With a Biographical Sketch and Explanatory Notes.<br>
-  Edited by Robert B. Roosevelt.<br>
-  1 vol. pp. 352.
-</p>
-<hr>
-
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145">{145}</a></span>
-<br>
-          <h1>The Catholic World.</h1>
-
-     <h3>Vol. IX., No. 50.&mdash;May, 1869.</h3>
-
-<hr>
-
-   <h2>The Woman Question.</h2>
-   <p class="center_close">
-     [Footnote 49]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 49:
-    1. <i>The Revolution</i>: New York. Weekly. Vol. III.<br>
-    2. <i>Equal Rights for Women</i>. A Speech by George William
-    Curtis, in the Constitutional Convention at Albany, July 19,
-    1868.<br>
-    3. <i>Ought Women to learn the Alphabet?</i> By Thomas
-    Wentworth Higginson.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The Woman Question, though not yet an all-engrossing question in
-our own or in any other country, is exciting so much attention,
-and is so vigorously agitated, that no periodical can very well
-refuse to consider it. As yet, though entering into politics, it
-has not become a party question, and we think we may discuss it
-without overstepping the line we have marked out for
-ourselves&mdash;that of studiously avoiding all party politics; not
-because we have not the courage to discuss them, but because we
-have aims and purposes which appeal to all parties alike, and
-which can best be effected by letting party politics alone.
-</p>
-<p>
-In what follows we shall take up the question seriously, and
-treat it candidly, without indulging in any sneers, jeers, or
-ridicule. A certain number of women have become, in some way or
-other, very thoroughly convinced that women are deeply wronged,
-deprived of their just rights by men, and especially in not being
-allowed political suffrage and eligibility. They claim to be in
-all things man's equal, and in many things his superior, and
-contend that society should make no distinction of sex in any of
-its civil and political arrangements. It will not, indeed, be
-easy for us to forget this distinction so long as we honor our
-mothers, and love our wives and daughters; but we will endeavor
-in this discussion to forget it&mdash;so far, at least, as to treat
-the question on its merits, and make no allowance for any real or
-supposed difference of intellect between men and women. We shall
-neither roughen nor soften our tones because our opponents are
-women, or men who encourage them. The women in question claim for
-women all the prerogatives of men; we shall, therefore, take the
-liberty to disregard their privileges as women. They may expect
-from us civility, not gallantry.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146">{146}</a></span>
-<p>
-We say frankly in the outset that we are decidedly opposed to
-female suffrage and eligibility. The woman's rights women demand
-them both as a right, and complain that men, in refusing to
-concede them, withhold a natural right, and violate the equal
-rights on which the American republic professes to be based. We
-deny that women have a natural right to suffrage and eligibility;
-for neither is a natural right at all, for either men or women.
-Either is a trust from civil society, not a natural and
-indefeasible right; and civil society confers either on whom it
-judges trustworthy, and on such conditions as it deems it
-expedient to annex. As the trust has never been conferred by
-civil society with us on women, they are deprived of no right by
-not being enfranchised.
-</p>
-<p>
-We know that the theory has been broached latterly, and defended
-by several political journals, and even by representatives and
-senators in Congress, as well as by <i>The Revolution,</i> the
-organ of the woman's rights movement, that suffrage and
-eligibility are not trusts conferred by civil society on whom it
-will, but natural and indefeasible rights, held directly from God
-or nature, and which civil society is bound by its very
-constitution to recognize, protect, and defend for all men and
-women, and which they can be deprived of only by crimes which
-forfeit one's natural life or liberty. It is on this ground that
-many have defended the extension of the elective franchise and
-eligibility to negroes and the colored races in the United
-States, and hold that Congress, under that clause of the
-Constitution authorizing it to guarantee to the several States a
-republican form of government, is bound to enfranchise them. It
-may or may not be wise and expedient to extend suffrage and
-eligibility to negroes and the colored races hitherto, in most of
-the States, excluded from the sovereign people of the country; on
-that question we express no opinion, one way or the other; but we
-deny that the negroes and colored men can claim admission on the
-ground either of natural right or of American republicanism; for
-white men themselves cannot claim it on that ground.
-</p>
-<p>
-Indeed, the assumption that either suffrage or eligibility is a
-natural right is anti-republican. The fundamental principle, the
-very essence of republicanism is, that power is a trust to be
-exercised for the public good or common weal, and is forfeited
-when not so exercised, or when exercised for private and personal
-ends. Suffrage and eligibility confer power to govern, which, if
-a natural right, would imply that power is the natural and
-indefeasible right of the governors&mdash;the essential principle of
-all absolutism, whether autocratic, aristocratic, monarchical, or
-democratic. It would imply that the American government is a
-pure, centralized, absolute, unmitigated democracy, which may be
-regarded either as tantamount to no government, or as the
-absolute despotism of the majority for the time, or its right to
-govern as it pleases in all things whatsoever, spiritual as well
-as secular, regardless of vested rights or constitutional
-limitations. This certainly is not American republicanism, which
-has always aimed to restrain the absolute power of majorities,
-and to protect minorities by constitutional provisions. It has
-never recognized suffrage as a personal right which a man carries
-with him whithersoever he goes, but has always made it a
-territorial right, which a man can exercise only in his own
-State, his own county, his own town or city, and his own ward or
-precinct. If American republicanism recognized suffrage as a
-right, not as simply a trust, why does it place restrictions on
-its exercise, or treat bribery as a crime? If suffrage is my
-natural right, my vote is my property, and I may do what I please
-with it; dispose of it in the market for the highest price I can
-get for it, as I may of any other species of property.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147">{147}</a></span>
-<p>
-Suffrage and eligibility are not natural, indefeasible rights,
-but franchises or trusts conferred by civil society; and it is
-for civil society to determine in its wisdom whom it will or will
-not enfranchise; on whom it will or will not confer the trust.
-Both are social or political rights, derived from political
-society, and subject to its will, which may extend or abridge
-them as it judges best for the common good. Ask you who
-constitute political society? They, be they more or fewer, who,
-by the actual constitution of the state, are the sovereign
-people. These, and these alone, have the right to determine who
-may or may not vote or be voted for. In the United States, the
-sovereign people has hitherto been, save in a few localities,
-adult males of the white race, and these have the right to say
-whether they will or will not extend suffrage to the black and
-colored races, and to women and children.
-</p>
-<p>
-Women, then, have not, for men have not, any natural right to
-admission into the ranks of the sovereign people. This disposes
-of the question of right, and shows that no injustice or wrong is
-done to women by their exclusion, and that no violence is done to
-the equal rights on which the American republic is founded. It
-may or it may not be wise and expedient to admit women into
-political, as they are now admitted into civil, society; but they
-cannot claim admission as a right. They can claim it only on the
-ground of expediency, or that it is necessary for the common
-good. For our part, we have all our life listened to the
-arguments and declamations of the woman's rights party on the
-subject; have read Mary Wollstonecraft, heard Fanny Wright, and
-looked into <i>The Revolution</i>, conducted by some of our old
-friends and acquaintances, and of whom we think better than many
-of their countrymen do; but we remain decidedly of the opinion
-that harm instead of good, to both men and women, would result
-from the admission. We say not this because we think lightly of
-the intellectual or moral capacity of women. We ask not if women
-are equal, inferior, or superior to men; for the two sexes are
-different, and between things different in kind there is no
-relation of equality or of inequality. Of course, we hold that
-the woman was made for the man, not the man for the woman, and
-that the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the
-head of the church, not the wife of the husband; but it suffices
-here to say that we do not object to the political
-enfranchisement of women on the ground of their feebleness,
-either of intellect or of body, or of any real incompetency to
-vote or to hold office. We are Catholics, and the church has
-always held in high honor chaste, modest, and worthy women as
-matrons, widows, or virgins. Her calendar has a full proportion
-of female saints, whose names she proposes to the honor and
-veneration of all the faithful. She bids the wife obey her
-husband in the Lord; but asserts her moral independence of him,
-leaves her conscience free, and holds her accountable for her own
-deeds.
-</p>
-<p>
-Women have shown great executive or administrative ability. Few
-men have shown more ability on a throne than Isabella, the
-Catholic, of Spain; or, in the affairs of government, though
-otherwise faulty enough, than Elizabeth of England, and Catharine
-II. of Russia. The present queen of the British Isles has had a
-most successful reign; but she owes it less to her own abilities
-than to the wise counsels of her husbands Prince Albert, and her
-domestic virtues as a wife and a mother, by which she has won the
-affections of the English people.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148">{148}</a></span>
-Others have shown rare administrative capacity in governing
-religious houses, often no less difficult than to govern a
-kingdom or an empire. Women have a keener insight into the
-characters of men than have men themselves, and the success of
-female sovereigns has, in great measure, been due to their
-ability to discover and call around them the best men in the
-state, and to put them in the places they are best fitted for.
-</p>
-<p>
-What women would be as legislators remains to be seen; they have
-had little experience in that line; but it would go hard, but
-they would prove themselves not much inferior to the average of
-the men we send to our State legislatures or to our national
-Congress.
-</p>
-<p>
-Women have also distinguished themselves in the arts as painters
-and sculptors, though none of them have ever risen to the front
-rank. St. Catharine of Egypt cultivated philosophy with success.
-Several holy women have shown great proficiency in mystic
-theology, and have written works of great value. In lighter
-literature, especially in the present age, women have taken a
-leading part. They almost monopolize the modern novel or romance,
-and give to contemporary popular literature its tone and
-character; yet it must be conceded that no woman has written a
-first-class romance. The influence of her writings, speaking
-generally, has not tended to purify or exalt the age, but rather
-to enfeeble and abase it. The tendency is to substitute sentiment
-for thought, morbid passion for strength, and to produce a weak
-and unhealthy moral tone. For ourselves, we own, though there are
-some women whose works we read, and even re-read with pleasure,
-we do not, in general, admire the popular female literature of
-the day; and we do not think that literature is that in which
-woman is best fitted to excel, or through which she exerts her
-most purifying and elevating influences. Her writings do not do
-much to awaken in man's heart the long dormant chivalric love so
-rife in the romantic ages, or to render the age healthy, natural,
-and manly. We say <i>awaken</i>; for chivalry, in its true and
-disinterested sense, is not dead in the coldest man's heart; it
-only sleepeth. It is woman's own fault, more than man's, that it
-sleeps, and wakes not to life and energy.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nor do we object to the political enfranchisement of women in the
-special interest of the male sex. Men and women have no separate
-interests. What elevates the one elevates the other; what
-degrades the one degrades the other. Men cannot depress women,
-place them in a false position, make them toys or drudges,
-without doing an equal injury to themselves; and one ground of
-our dislike to the so-called woman's rights movement is, that it
-proceeds on the supposition that there is no inter-dependence
-between men and women, and seeks to render them mutually
-independent of each other, with entirely distinct and separate
-interests. There is a truth in the old Greek fable, related by
-Plato in the <i>Banquet</i>, that Jupiter united originally both
-sexes in one and the same person, and afterward separated them,
-and that now they are but two halves of one whole. "God made man
-after his own image and likeness; male and female made he
-<i>them</i>." Each, in this world, is the complement of the
-other, and the more closely identified are their interests, the
-better is it for both. We, in opposing the political
-enfranchisement of women, seek the interest of men no more than
-we do the interest of women themselves.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149">{149}</a></span>
-<p>
-Women, no doubt, undergo many wrongs, and are obliged to suffer
-many hardships, but seldom they alone. It is a world of trial, a
-world in which there are wrongs of all sorts, and sufferings of
-all kinds. We have lost paradise, and cannot regain it in this
-world. We must go through the valley of the shadow of death
-before re-entering it. You cannot make earth heaven, and there is
-no use in trying; and least of all can you do it by political
-means. It is hard for the poor wife to have to maintain a lazy,
-idle, drunken vagabond of a husband, and three or four children
-into the bargain; it is hard for the wife delicately reared,
-accomplished, fitted to adorn the most intellectual, graceful,
-and polished society, accustomed to every luxury that wealth can
-procure, to find herself a widow reduced to poverty, and a family
-of young children to support, and unable to obtain any employment
-for which she is fitted as the means of supporting them. But men
-suffer too. It is no less hard for the poor, industrious,
-hardworking man to find what he earns wasted by an idle,
-extravagant, incompetent, and heedless wife, who prefers gadding
-and gossiping to taking care of her household. And how much
-easier is it for the man who is reduced from affluence to
-poverty, a widower with three or four motherless children to
-provide for? The reduction from affluence to poverty is sometimes
-the fault of the wife as well as of the husband. It is usually
-their joint fault. Women have wrongs, so have men; but a woman
-has as much power to make a man miserable as a man has to make a
-woman miserable; and she tyrannizes over him as often as he does
-over her. If he has more power of attack, nature has given her
-more power of defence. Her tongue is as formidable a weapon as
-his fists, and she knows well how, by her seeming meekness,
-gentleness, and apparent martyrdom, to work on his feelings, to
-enlist the sympathy of the neighborhood on her side and against
-him. Women are neither so wronged nor so helpless as <i>The
-Revolution</i> pretends. Men can be brutal, and women can tease
-and provoke.
-</p>
-<p>
-But let the evils be as great as they may, and women as greatly
-wronged as is pretended, what can female suffrage and eligibility
-do by way of relieving them? All modern methods of reform are
-very much like dram-drinking. The dram needs to be constantly
-increased in frequency and quantity, while the prostration grows
-greater and greater, till the drinker gets the <i>delirium
-tremens</i>, becomes comatose, and dies. The extension of
-suffrage in modern times has cured or lessened no social or moral
-evil; and under it, as under any other political system, the rich
-grow richer and the poor poorer. Double the dram, enfranchise the
-women, give them the political right to vote and be voted for;
-what single moral or social evil will it prevent or cure? Will it
-make the drunken husband temperate, the lazy and idle industrious
-and diligent? Will it prevent the ups and downs of life, the fall
-from affluence to poverty, keep death out of the house, and
-prevent widowhood and orphanage? These things are beyond the
-reach of politics. You cannot legislate men or women into virtue,
-into sobriety, industry, providence. The doubled dram would only
-introduce a double poison into the system, a new element of
-discord into the family, and through the family into society, and
-hasten the moment of dissolution. When a false principle of
-reform is adopted, the evil sought to be cured is only
-aggravated. The reformers started wrong.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150">{150}</a></span>
-They would reform the church by placing her under human control.
-Their successors have in each generation found they did not go
-far enough, and have, each in its turn, struggled to push it
-farther and farther, till they find themselves without any church
-life, without faith, without religion, and beginning to doubt if
-there be even a God. So, in politics, we have pushed the false
-principle that all individual, domestic, and social evils are due
-to bad government, and are to be cured by political reforms and
-changes, till we have nearly reformed away all government, at
-least, in theory; have well-nigh abolished the family, which is
-the social unit; and find that the evils we sought to cure, and
-the wrongs we sought to redress, continue undiminished. We cry
-out in our delirium for another and a larger dram. When you
-proceed on a true principle, the more logically and completely
-you carry it out the better; but when you start with a false
-principle, the more logical you are, and the farther you push it,
-the worse. Your consistency increases instead of diminishing the
-evils you would cure.
-</p>
-<p>
-The conclusive objection to the political enfranchisement of
-women is, that it would weaken and finally break up and destroy
-the Christian family. The social unit is the family, not the
-individual; and the greatest danger to American society is, that
-we are rapidly becoming a nation of isolated individuals, without
-family ties or affections. The family has already been much
-weakened, and is fast disappearing. We have broken away from the
-old homestead, have lost the restraining and purifying
-associations that gathered round it, and live away from home in
-hotels and boarding-houses. We are daily losing the faith, the
-virtues, the habits, and the manners without which the family
-cannot be sustained; and when the family goes, the nation goes
-too, or ceases to be worth preserving. God made the family the
-type and basis of society; "male and female made he them." A
-large and influential class of women not only neglect but disdain
-the retired and simple domestic virtues, and scorn to be tied
-down to the modest but essential duties&mdash;the drudgery, they call
-it&mdash;of wives and mothers. This, coupled with the separate
-pecuniary interests of husband and wife secured, and the facility
-of divorce <i>a vinculo matrirmonii</i> allowed by the laws of
-most of the States of the Union, make the family, to a fearful
-extent, the mere shadow of what it was and of what it should be.
-</p>
-<p>
-Extend now to women suffrage and eligibility; give them the
-political right to vote and to be voted for; render it feasible
-for them to enter the arena of political strife, to become
-canvassers in elections and candidates for office, and what
-remains of family union will soon be dissolved. The wife may
-espouse one political party, and the husband another, and it may
-well happen that the husband and wife may be rival candidates for
-the same office, and one or the other doomed to the mortification
-of defeat. Will the husband like to see his wife enter the lists
-against him, and triumph over him? Will the wife, fired with
-political ambition for place or power, be pleased to see her own
-husband enter the lists against her, and succeed at her expense?
-Will political rivalry and the passions it never fails to
-engender increase the mutual affection of husband and wife for
-each other, and promote domestic union and peace, or will it not
-carry into the bosom of the family all the strife, discord,
-anger, and division of the political canvass?
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151">{151}</a></span>
-<p>
-Then, when the wife and mother is engrossed in the political
-canvass, or in discharging her duties as a representative or
-senator in Congress, a member of the cabinet, or a major-general
-in the field, what is to become of the children? The mother will
-have little leisure, perhaps less inclination, to attend to them.
-A stranger, or even the father, cannot supply her place. Children
-need a mother's care; her tender nursing, her sleepless
-vigilance, and her mild and loving but unfailing discipline. This
-she cannot devolve on the father, or turn over to strangers.
-Nobody can supply the place of a mother. Children, then, must be
-neglected; nay, they will be in the way, and be looked upon as an
-encumbrance. Mothers will repress their maternal instincts; and
-the horrible crime of infanticide before birth, now becoming so
-fearfully prevalent, and actually causing a decrease in the
-native population of several of the States of the Union as well
-as in more than one European country, will become more prevalent
-still, and the human race be threatened with extinction. Women in
-easy circumstances, and placing pleasure before duty, grow weary
-of the cares of maternity, and they would only become more weary
-still if the political arena were opened to their ambition.
-</p>
-<p>
-Woman was created to be a wife and a mother; that is her destiny.
-To that destiny all her instincts point, and for it nature has
-specially qualified her. Her proper sphere is home, and her
-proper function is the care of the household, to manage a family,
-to take care of children, and attend to their early training. For
-this she is endowed with patience, endurance, passive courage,
-quick sensibilities, a sympathetic nature, and great executive
-and administrative ability. She was born to be a queen in her own
-household, and to make home cheerful, bright, and happy. Surely
-those women who are wives and mothers should stay at home and
-discharge its duties; and the woman's rights party, by seeking to
-draw her away from the domestic sphere, where she is really
-great, noble, almost divine, and to throw her into the turmoil of
-political life, would rob her of her true dignity and worth, and
-place her in a position where all her special qualifications and
-peculiar excellences would count for nothing. She cannot be
-spared from home for that.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is pretended that woman's generous sympathies, her nice sense
-of justice, and her indomitable perseverance in what she
-conceives to be right are needed to elevate our politics above
-the low, grovelling and sordid tastes of men; but while we admit
-that women will make almost any sacrifice to obtain their own
-will, and make less than men do of obstacles or consequences, we
-are not aware that they have a nicer or a truer sense of justice,
-or are more disinterested in their aims than men. All history
-proves that the corruptest epochs in a nation's life are
-precisely those in which women have mingled most in political
-affairs, and have had the most influence in their management. If
-they go into the political world, they will, if the distinction
-of sex is lost sight of, have no special advantage over men, nor
-be more influential for good or for evil. If they go as women,
-using all the blandishments, seductions, arts, and intrigues of
-their sex, their influence will tend more to corrupt and debase
-than to purify and elevate. Women usually will stick at nothing
-to carry their points; and when unable to carry them by appeals
-to the strength of the other sex, they will appeal to its
-weakness. When once they have thrown off their native modesty,
-and entered a public arena with men, they will go to lengths that
-men will not.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152">{152}</a></span>
-Lady Macbeth looks with steady nerves and unblanched cheek on a
-crime from which her husband shrinks with horror, and upbraids
-him with his cowardice for letting "I dare not wait upon I
-would." It was not she who saw Banquo's ghost.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have heard it argued that, if women were to take part in our
-elections, they would be quietly and decorously conducted; that
-her presence would do more than a whole army of police officials
-to maintain order, to banish all fighting, drinking, profane
-swearing, venality, and corruption. This would undoubtedly be, to
-some extent, the case, if, under the new <i>régime</i>, men
-should retain the same chivalric respect for women that they now
-have. Men now regard women as placed in some sort under their
-protection, or the safeguard of their honor. But when she insists
-that the distinction of sex shall be disregarded, and tells us
-that she asks no favors, regards all offers of protection to her
-as a woman as an insult, and that she holds herself competent to
-take care of herself, and to compete with men on their own
-ground, and in what has hitherto been held to be their own work,
-she may be sure that she will be taken at her word, that she will
-miss that deference now shown her, and which she has been
-accustomed to claim as her right, and be treated with all the
-indifference men show to one another. She cannot have the
-advantages of both sexes at once. When she forgets that she is a
-woman, and insists on being treated as a man, men will forget
-that she is a woman, and allow her no advantage on account of her
-sex. When she seeks to make herself a man, she will lose her
-influence as a woman, and be treated as a man.
-</p>
-<p>
-Women are not needed as men; they are needed as women, to do, not
-what men can do as well as they, but what men cannot do. There is
-nothing which more grieves the wise and good, or makes them
-tremble for the future of the country, than the growing neglect
-or laxity of family discipline; than the insubordination, the
-lawlessness, and precocious depravity of Young America. There is,
-with the children of this generation, almost a total lack of
-filial reverence and obedience. And whose fault is it? It is
-chiefly the fault of the mothers, who fail to govern their
-households, and to bring up their children in a Christian manner.
-Exceptions there happily are; but the number of children that
-grow up without any proper training or discipline at home is
-fearfully large, and their evil example corrupts not a few of
-those who are well brought up. The country is no better than the
-town. Wives forget what they owe to their husbands, are
-capricious and vain, often light and frivolous, extravagant and
-foolish, bent on having their own way, though ruinous to the
-family, and generally contriving, by coaxings, blandishments, or
-poutings, to get it. They set an ill example to their children,
-who soon lose all respect for the authority of the mother, who,
-as a wife, forgets to honor and obey her husband, and who, seeing
-her have her own way with him, insist on having their own way
-with her, and usually succeed. As a rule, children are no longer
-subjected to a steady and firm, but mild and judicious
-discipline, or trained to habits of filial obedience. Hence, our
-daughters, when they become wives and mothers, have none of the
-habits or character necessary to govern their household and to
-train their children. Those habits and that character are
-acquired only in a school of obedience, made pleasant and
-cheerful by a mother's playful smile and a mother's love.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153">{153}</a></span>
-We know we have not in this the sympathy of the women whose organ
-is <i>The Revolution</i>. They hold obedience in horror, and seek
-only to govern, not their own husbands only, not children, but
-men, but the state, but the nation, and to be relieved of
-household cares, especially of child-bearing, and of the duty of
-bringing up children. We should be sorry to do or say anything
-which these, in their present mood, could sympathize with. It is
-that which is a woman's special duty in the order of providence,
-and which constitutes her peculiar glory, that they regard as
-their great wrong.
-</p>
-<p>
-The duty we insist on is especially necessary in a country like
-ours, where there is so little respect for authority, and
-government is but the echo of public opinion. Wives and mothers,
-by neglecting their domestic duties and the proper family
-discipline, fail to offer the necessary resistance to growing
-lawlessness and crime, aggravated, if not generated, by the false
-notions of freedom and equality so widely entertained. It is only
-by home discipline, and the early habits of reverence and
-obedience to which our children are trained, that the license the
-government tolerates, and the courts hardly dare attempt to
-restrain, can be counteracted, and the community made a
-law-loving and a law-abiding community. The very bases of society
-have been sapped, and the conditions of good government despised,
-or denounced under the name of despotism. Social and political
-life is poisoned in its source, and the blood of the nation
-corrupted, and chiefly because wives and mothers have failed in
-their domestic duties, and the discipline of their families. How,
-then, can the community, the nation itself, subsist, if we call
-them away from home, and render its duties still more irksome to
-them, instead of laboring to fit them for a more faithful
-discharge of their duties?
-</p>
-<p>
-We have said the evils complained of are chiefly due to the
-women, and we have said so because it grows chiefly out of their
-neglect of their families. The care and management of children
-during their early years belong specially to the mother. It is
-her special function to plant and develop in their young and
-impressible minds the seeds of virtue, love, reverence, and
-obedience, and to train her daughters, by precept and example,
-not to be looking out for an eligible <i>parti</i>, nor to catch
-husbands that will give them splendid establishments, but to be,
-in due time, modest and affectionate wives, tender and judicious
-mothers, and prudent and careful housekeepers. This the father
-cannot do; and his interference, except by wise counsel, and to
-honor and sustain the mother, will generally be worse than
-nothing. The task devolves specially on the mother; for it
-demands the sympathy with children which is peculiar to the
-female heart, the strong maternal instinct implanted by nature,
-and directed by a judicious education, that blending of love and
-authority, sentiment and reason, sweetness and power, so
-characteristic of the noble and true-hearted woman, and which so
-admirably fit her to be loved and honored, only less than adored,
-in her own household. When she neglects this duty, and devotes
-her time to pleasure or amusement, wasting her life in luxurious
-ease, in reading sentimental or sensational novels, or in
-following the caprices of fashion, the household goes to ruin,
-the children grow up wild, without discipline, and the honest
-earnings of the husband become speedily insufficient for the
-family expenses, and he is sorely tempted to provide for them by
-rash speculation or by fraud, which, though it may be carried on
-for a while without detection, is sure to end in disgrace and
-ruin at last.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154">{154}</a></span>
-Concede now to women suffrage and eligibility, throw them into
-the whirlpool of politics, set them to scrambling for office, and
-you aggravate the evil a hundred fold. Children, if suffered to
-be born, which is hardly to be expected, will be still more
-neglected; family discipline still more relaxed, or rendered
-still more capricious or inefficient; our daughters will grow up
-more generally still without any adequate training to be wives
-and mothers, and our sons still more destitute of those habits of
-filial reverence and obedience, love of order and discipline,
-without which they can hardly be sober, prudent, and worthy heads
-of families, or honest citizens.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have thus far spoken of women only as wives and mothers; but
-we are told that there are thousands of women who are not and
-cannot be wives and mothers. In the older and more densely
-settled States of the Union there is an excess of females over
-males, and all cannot get husbands if they would. Yet, we repeat,
-woman was created to be a wife and a mother, and the woman that
-is not fails of her special destiny. We hold in high honor
-spinsters and widows, and do not believe their case anywhere need
-be or is utterly hopeless. There is a mystery in Christianity
-which the true and enlightened Christian recognizes and
-venerates&mdash;that of the Virgin-Mother. Those women who cannot be
-wives and mothers in the natural order, may be both in the
-spiritual order, if they will. They can be wedded to the Holy
-Spirit, and be the mothers of minds and hearts. The holy virgins
-and devout widows who consecrate themselves to God in or out of
-religious orders, are both, and fulfil in the spiritual order
-their proper destiny. They are married to a celestial Spouse, and
-become mothers to the motherless, to the poor, the destitute, the
-homeless. They instruct the ignorant, nurse the sick, help the
-helpless, tend the aged, catch the last breath of the dying, pray
-for the unbelieving and the cold hearted, and elevate the moral
-tone of society, and shed a cheering radiance along the pathway
-of life. They are dear to God, dear to the church, and dear to
-Christian society. They are to be envied, not pitied. It is only
-because you have lost faith in Christ, faith in the holy Catholic
-Church, and have become gross in your minds, of "the earth,
-earthy," that you deplore the lot of the women who cannot, in the
-natural order, find husbands. The church provides better for them
-than you can do, even should you secure female suffrage and
-eligibility.
-</p>
-<p>
-We do not, therefore, make an exception from our general remarks
-in favor of those who have and can get no earthly husbands, and
-who have no children born of their flesh to care for. There are
-spiritual relations which they can contract, and purely feminine
-duties, more than they can perform, await them, to the poor and
-ignorant, the aged and infirm, the helpless and the motherless,
-or, worse than motherless, the neglected. Under proper direction,
-they can lavish on these the wealth of their affections, the
-tenderness of their hearts, and the ardor of their charity, and
-find true joy and happiness in so doing, and ample scope for
-woman's noblest ambition. They have no need to be idle or
-useless. In a world of so much sin and sorrow, sickness and
-suffering, there is always work enough for them to do, and there
-are always chances enough to acquire merit in the sight of
-Heaven, and true glory, that will shine brighter and brighter for
-ever.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155">{155}</a></span>
-<p>
-We know men often wrong women and cause them great suffering by
-their selfishness, tyranny, and brutality; whether more than
-women, by their follies and caprices, cause men, we shall not
-undertake to determine. Man, except in fiction, is not always a
-devil, nor woman an angel. Since the woman's rights people claim
-that in intellect woman is man's equal, and in firmness of will
-far his superior, it ill becomes them to charge to him alone what
-is wrong or painful in her condition, and they must recognize her
-as equally responsible with him for whatever is wrong in the
-common lot of men and women. There is much wrong on both sides;
-much suffering, and much needless suffering, in life. Both men
-and women might be, and ought to be, better than they are. But it
-is sheer folly or madness to suppose that either can be made
-better or happier by political suffrage and eligibility; for the
-evil to be cured is one that cannot be reached by any possible
-political or legislative action.
-</p>
-<p>
-That the remedy, to a great extent, must be supplied by woman's
-action and influence we concede, but not by her action and
-influence in politics. It can only be by her action and influence
-as woman, as wife, and mother; in sustaining with her affection
-the resolutions and just aspirations of her husband or her sons,
-and forming her children to early habits of filial love and
-reverence, of obedience to law, and respect for authority. That
-she may do this, she needs not her political enfranchisement or
-her entire independence of the other sex, but a better and more
-thorough system of education for daughters&mdash;an education that
-specially adapts them to the destiny of their sex, and prepares
-them to find their happiness in their homes, and the satisfaction
-of their highest ambition in discharging its manifold duties, so
-much higher, nobler, and more essential to the virtue and
-well-being of the community, the nation, society, and to the life
-and progress of the human race, than any which devolve on king or
-kaiser, magistrate or legislator. We would not have their
-generous instincts repressed, their quick sensibilities blunted?
-or their warm, sympathetic nature chilled, nor even the lighter
-graces and accomplishments neglected; but we would have them all
-directed and harmonized by solid intellectual instruction, and
-moral and religious culture. We would have them, whether rich or
-poor, trained to find the centre of their affections in their
-home; their chief ambition in making it cheerful, bright,
-radiant, and happy. Whether destined to grace a magnificent
-palace, or to adorn the humble cottage of poverty, this should be
-the ideal aimed at in their education. They should be trained to
-love home, and to find their pleasure in sharing its cares and
-performing its duties, however arduous or painful.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are comparatively few mothers qualified to give their
-daughters such an education, especially in our own country; for
-comparatively few have received such an education themselves, or
-are able fully to appreciate its importance. They can find little
-help in the fashionable boarding-schools for finishing young
-ladies; and in general these schools only aggravate the evil to
-be cured. The best and the only respectable schools for daughters
-that we have in the country are the conventual schools taught by
-women consecrated to God, and specially devoted to the work of
-education. These schools, indeed, are not always all that might
-be wished.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156">{156}</a></span>
-The good religious sometimes follow educational traditions
-perhaps better suited to the social arrangements of other
-countries than of our own, and sometimes underrate the value of
-intellectual culture. They do not always give as solid an
-intellectual education as the American woman needs, and devote a
-disproportionate share of their attention to the cultivation of
-the affections and sentiments, and to exterior graces and
-accomplishments. The defects we hint at are not, however, wholly,
-nor chiefly, their fault; they are obliged to consult, in some
-measure, the tastes and wishes of parents and guardians, whose
-views for their daughters and wards are not always very profound,
-very wise, very just, or very Christian. The religious cannot,
-certainly, supply the place of the mother in giving their pupils
-that practical home training so necessary, and which can be given
-only by mothers who have themselves been properly educated; but
-they go as far as is possible in remedying the defects of the
-present generation of mothers, and in counteracting their follies
-and vain ambitions. With all the faults that can be alleged
-against any of them, the conventual schools, even as they are, it
-must be conceded, are infinitely the best schools for daughters
-in the land, and, upon the whole, worthy of the high praise and
-liberal patronage their devotedness and disinterestedness secure
-them. We have seldom found their graduates weak and sickly
-sentimentalists. They develop in their pupils a cheerful and
-healthy tone, and a high sense of duty; give them solid moral and
-religious instruction; cultivate successfully their moral and
-religious affections; refine their manners, purify their tastes,
-and send them out feeling that life is serious, life is earnest,
-and resolved always to act under a deep sense of their personal
-responsibilities, and meet whatever may be their lot with brave
-hearts and without murmuring or repining.
-</p>
-<p>
-We do not disguise the fact that our hopes for the future, in
-great measure, rest on these conventual schools. As they are
-multiplied, and the number of their graduates increase, and enter
-upon the serious duties of life, the ideal of female education
-will be come higher and broader; a nobler class of wives and
-mothers will exert a healthy and purifying influence; religion
-will become a real power in the republic; the moral tone of the
-community and the standard of private and public morality will be
-elevated; and thus may gradually be acquired the virtues that
-will enable us as a people to escape the dangers that now
-threaten us, and to save the republic as well as our own souls.
-Sectarians, indeed, declaim against these schools, and denounce
-them as a subtle device of Satan to make their daughters
-"Romanists;" but Satan probably dislikes "Romanism" even more
-than sectarians do, and is much more in earnest to suppress or
-ruin our conventual schools, in which he is not held in much
-honor, than he is to sustain and encourage them. At any rate, our
-countrymen who have such a horror of the religion it is our glory
-to profess that they cannot call it by its true name, would do
-well, before denouncing these schools, to establish better
-schools for daughters of their own.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, we dare tell these women who are wasting so much time,
-energy, philanthropy, and brilliant eloquence in agitating for
-female suffrage and eligibility, which, if conceded, would only
-make matters worse, that, if they have the real interest of their
-sex or of the community at heart, they should turn their
-attention to the education of daughters for their special
-functions, not as men, but as women who are one day to be wives
-and mothers&mdash;woman's true destiny.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157">{157}</a></span>
-These modest, retiring sisters and nuns, who have no new theories
-or schemes of social reform, and upon whom you look down with
-haughty contempt, as weak, spiritless, and narrow-minded, have
-chosen the better part, and are doing infinitely more to raise
-woman to her true dignity, and for the political and social as
-well as for the moral and religious progress of the country, than
-you with all your grand conventions, brilliant speeches, stirring
-lectures, and spirited journals.
-</p>
-<p>
-For poor working-women and poor working-men, obliged to subsist
-by their labor, and who can find no employment, we feel a deep
-sympathy, and would favor any feasible method of relieving them
-with our best efforts. But why cannot American girls find
-employment as well as Irish and German girls, who are employed
-almost as soon as they touch our shores, and at liberal wages?
-There is always work enough to be done if women are qualified to
-do it, and are not above doing it. But be that as it may, the
-remedy is not political, and must be found, if found at all,
-elsewhere than in suffrage and eligibility.
-</p>
-<hr>
-
-                <h2>Daybreak.</h2>
-
-              <h3>Chapter III.
-<br><br>
-               Chez Lui.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton did not go down to dinner the first day; but when
-she heard Mr. Granger come in, sent a line to him, excusing
-herself till evening, on the plea that she needed rest. The truth
-was, however, that she shrank from first meeting the family at
-table, a place which allows so little escape from embarrassment.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her door had been left ajar; and in a few minutes she heard a
-silken rustling on the stairs, then a faint tap; and at her
-summons there entered a small, lily-faced woman who looked like
-something that might have grown out of the pallid March evening.
-The silver-gray of her trailing dress, the uncertain tints of her
-hair, deepening from flaxen to pale brown, even the cobwebby
-Mechlin laces she wore, so thin as to have no color of their
-own&mdash;all were like light, cool shadows. This lady entered with a
-dainty timidity which by no means excluded the most perfect
-self-possession, but rather indicated an extreme solicitude for
-the person she visited.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do I intrude?" she asked in a soft, hesitating way. "Mr. Granger
-thought I might come up. We feared that you were ill."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret was annoyed to feel herself blushing. There was
-something keen in this lady's beautiful violet eyes, underneath
-their superficial expression of anxious kindness.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am not ill, only tired," she replied. "I meant to go down
-awhile after dinner."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am Mrs. Lewis," the stranger announced, seating herself by the
-bedside. "My husband and I, and my husband's niece, Aurelia
-Lewis, live here. We don't call it boarding, you know. I hope
-that you will like us."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158">{158}</a></span>
-<p>
-This wish was expressed in a manner so <i>naïve</i> and earnest
-that Margaret could but smile in making answer that she was quite
-prepared to be pleased with everything, and that her only fear
-was lest she might disturb the harmony of their circle&mdash;not by
-being disagreeable in herself, but simply in being one more.
-</p>
-<p>
-With a gesture at once graceful and kind, Mrs. Lewis touched
-Margaret's hand with her slight, chilly fingers. "You are the one
-more whom we want," she said; "we have been rejoicing over the
-prospect of having you with us. You do not break, you complete
-the circle."
-</p>
-<p>
-Her quick ear had caught a lingering tone of pain; and she had
-already found something pathetic in that thin face and those
-languid eyes. Miss Hamilton did not appear to be a person likely
-to disturb the empire which this lady prided herself on
-exercising over their household.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know very little about the family," Margaret remarked. "Mr.
-Granger mentioned some names. I am not sure if they were all. And
-men never think of the many trifles we like to be told."
-</p>
-<p>
-Her visitor sighed resignedly. "Certainly not&mdash;the sublime
-creatures! It is the difference between fresco and miniature, you
-know. Let me enlighten you a little. Besides those of us whom you
-have seen, there are only Mr. Southard, my husband, and Aurelia.
-We consider ourselves a very happy family. Of course, being
-human, we have occasional jars; but there is always the
-understanding that our real friendship is unimpaired by them. And
-we defend each other like Trojans from any outside attack. We try
-to manage so as to have but one angry at a time, the others
-acting as peacemakers. The only one who may trouble you is my
-husband. I am anxious concerning him and you."
-</p>
-<p>
-With her head a little on one side, the lady contemplated her
-companion with a look of pretty distress.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Forewarned is forearmed," suggested Miss Hamilton.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why, you see," her visitor said confidentially, "Mr. Lewis is
-one of those provoking beings who take a mischievous delight in
-misrepresenting themselves, not for the better, but the worse. If
-they see a person leaning very much in one way, they are sure to
-lean very much the other way. Mr. Southard calls my husband an
-infidel, whatever that is. There certainly are a great many
-things which he does not believe. But one half of his scepticism
-is a mere pretence to tease the minister. I hope you won't be
-vexed with him. You won't when you come to know him. Sometimes I
-don't altogether blame him. Of course we all admire Mr. Southard
-in the most fatiguing manner; but it cannot be denied that he
-does interpret and perform his duties in the preraphaelite style,
-With a pitiless adherence to chapter and verse. Still, I often
-think that much of his apparent severity may be in those
-chiselled features of his. One is occasionally surprised by some
-sign of indulgence in him, some touch of grace or tenderness. But
-even while you look, the charm, without disappearing, freezes
-before your eyes, like spray in winter. I don't know just what to
-think of him; but I suspect that he has missed his vocation, that
-he was made for a monk or a Jesuit. It would never do to breathe
-such a thought to him, though. He thinks that the Pope is
-Antichrist."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And isn't he?" calmly asked the granddaughter of the Rev. Doctor
-Hamilton.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis put up her hand to refasten a bunch of honey-sweet
-tuberoses that were slipping from the glossy coils of her hair,
-and by the gesture concealed a momentary amused twinkle of her
-eyes.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159">{159}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Oh! I dare say!" she replied lightly. "But such a dear,
-benignant old antichrist as he is! Ages ago, when we were in
-Rome, I was in the crowd before St. Peter's when the pope gave
-the Easter benediction. Involuntarily I knelt with the rest; and
-really, Miss Hamilton, that seemed to me the only benediction I
-ever received. I did not understand my own emotion. It was quite
-unexpected. Perhaps it was something in that intoxicating
-atmosphere which is only half air; the other half is soul."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret was silent. She had no wish to express any displeasure;
-but she was shocked to hear the mystical Babylon spoken of with
-toleration, and that by a descendant of the puritans.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis sat a moment with downcast eyes, aware of, and quietly
-submitting to the scrutiny of the other&mdash;by no means afraid of
-it, quite confident, probably, that the result would be
-agreeable.
-</p>
-<p>
-This lady was about forty years of age, delicate rather than
-beautiful, with a frosty sparkle about her. Her manner was
-gentleness itself; but one soon perceived something fine and
-sharp beneath; a blue arrowy glance that carried home a phrase
-otherwise light as a feather, a slight emphasis that made the
-more obvious meaning of a word glance aside, an unnecessary
-suavity of expression that led to suspicion of some pungent
-hidden meaning. But with all her airy malice there was much of
-genuine honesty and kind feeling. She was like a faceted gem,
-showing her little glittering shield at every turn; but still a
-gem.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Aurelia is quite impatient to welcome you," she resumed softly.
-"You cannot fail to like her, when you happen to think of it. She
-is sweet and beautiful all through.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Now I will leave you to take your rest, and read the note of
-which Mr. Granger made me the bearer. I hope to see you this
-evening."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret looked after the little lady as she glided away,
-glancing back from the door with a friendly smile and nod, then
-disappeared, soundless save for the rustling of her dress. She
-listened to that faint silken whisper on the stairs, then to the
-soft shutting of the parlor door, two pushes before it latched.
-Then she read her note. It was but a line. "Rest as long as you
-wish to. But when you are able to come down, we all want to see
-you."
-</p>
-<p>
-She went down to the parlor after dinner, and found the whole
-family there. There was yet so much of daylight that one
-gentleman, sitting in a western window, was reading the evening
-paper by it; but the stream of gaslight that came in from some
-room at the end of the long <i>suite</i> made a red-golden path
-across the darkened back-parlor, and caught brightly here and
-there on the carving of a picture, a curve of bronze or marble,
-or the gilding of a book-cover, and glimmered unsteadily over a
-winged Mercury that leaned out of the vague dusk and sparkle,
-tiptoe, at point of flight, with lifted face and glinting eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger stood near the door by which Margaret entered,
-evidently on the watch for her; and at sight of him that slight
-nervous embarrassment inseparable from her circumstances, and
-from the unstrung condition of her mind and body, instantly died
-away. To her he was strength, courage, and protection. Shielded
-by his friendship, she feared nothing.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis and Dora met her like old friends; that florid
-gentleman with English side-whiskers she guessed to be Mr. Lewis;
-and she recognized that fine profile clear against the opaline
-west.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160">{160}</a></span>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard came forward at once, scarcely waiting for an
-introduction.
-</p>
-<p>
-"A granddaughter of the Rev. Doctor Hamilton?" he said with
-emphasis. "I am happy to see you."
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton received tranquilly his cordial salutation, and
-mentally consigned it to the manes of her grandfather.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis got up out of his armchair, and bowed lowly. "Madam,"
-he said with great deliberation, "I do not in the least care who
-your grandfather was. I am glad to see <i>you</i>."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank you!" said Margaret.
-</p>
-<p>
-The gentleman settled rather heavily into his chair again. He was
-one of those who would rather sit than stand. Margaret turned to
-meet his niece, who was offering her hand, and murmuring some
-word of welcome. She looked at Aurelia Lewis with delight,
-perceiving then what Mrs. Lewis had meant in saying that her
-husband's niece was sweet and beautiful all through. The girl
-radiated loveliness. She was a blonde, with deep ambers and
-browns in her hair and eyes, looking like some translucent
-creature shone through by rich sunset lights too soft for
-brilliancy. She was large, suave, a trifle sirupy, perhaps, but
-sweet to the core, had no salient points in her disposition, but
-a charmingly liquid way of adapting herself to the angles of
-others. If the looks and manners of Mrs. Lewis were faceted,
-those of her husband's niece were what jewelers' call <i>en
-cabochon</i>. What Aurelia said was nothing. She was not a
-reportable person. What she <i>was</i> was delicious.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I remember Doctor Hamilton very well," Mr. Lewis said when the
-ladies had finished their compliments. "He was one of those men
-who make religion respectable. He held some pretty hard
-doctrines; but he believed every one of 'em, and held 'em with a
-grip. The last time I saw him was seven or eight years ago, just
-before his death. They had up their everlasting petition before
-the legislature here, for the abolition of capital punishment;
-and a committee was appointed to attend to the matter. I went up
-to one of their hearings. There were Phillips, Pierpont, Andrew,
-Spear, and a lot of other smooth-tongued, soft-hearted fellows
-who didn't want the poor, dear murderers to be hanged; and on the
-other side were Doctor Hamilton with his eyes and his cane,
-common sense, Moses and the decalogue. They had rather a rough
-time of it. Andrew called your grandfather an old fogy, over some
-one else's shoulders; and Phillips tilted over Moses, tables and
-all, with that sharp lance of his. But Doctor Hamilton stood
-there as firm as a rock, and beat them all out. He had the glance
-of an eagle, and a way of swinging his arm about, when he was in
-earnest, that looked as if it wouldn't take much provocation to
-make him hit straight out. Phillips said something that he didn't
-like, and the doctor stamped at him. Well, the upshot of the
-matter was, that capital punishment was not abolished that year,
-thanks to one tough, intrepid old man."
-</p>
-<p>
-"My grandfather was very resolute," said Margaret, with a slight,
-proud smile.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," answered Mr. Lewis, "he would have made a prime soldier,
-if he hadn't made the mistake of being a doctor of divinity."
-</p>
-<p>
-"The church needed his authoritative speech," said Mr. Southard,
-with decision. "To the minister of God belongs the voice of
-denunciation as well as the voice of prayer."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161">{161}</a></span>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis gave his moustache an impatient twitch.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger seized the first opportunity to speak aside to
-Margaret. "You like these people? You are contented?" he asked
-hastily.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, and yes," she replied.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You think that you will feel at home when you have become better
-acquainted with them?" he pursued.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It seems to me that I have always lived here," she answered,
-smiling. "There is not the least strangeness. Indeed, surprising
-things, if they are pleasant, never surprise me. I am always
-expecting miracles. It is only painful or trivial events which
-find me incredulous and ill at ease."
-</p>
-<p>
-The chandeliers were lighted, and the windows closed; but,
-according to their pleasant occasional custom, the curtains were
-not drawn for a while yet. If any person in the street took
-pleasure in seeing this family gathering, they were welcome.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis broke a few sprays from a musk-vine over-starred with
-yellow blossoms, and twined them into a wreath as she slowly
-approached the two who were standing near a book-case. "<i>Vive
-le roi!</i>" she said, lifting the wreath to the marble brows of
-a Shakespeare that stood on the lower shelf.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret glanced along a row of blue and brown covers, and
-exclaimed, "My Brownings! all hail! there they are!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You also!" said Mrs. Lewis, with a grimace. "Own, now, that they
-jolt horribly&mdash;that the Browning Pegasus is a racker, and that
-the Browning road up Parnassus is macadamized with&mdash;well,
-diamonds, if you will, but diamonds in the rough. True, the hoofs
-do make dents; they do dash over the ground with a four-footed
-trampling; but&mdash;" a shrug and a shiver completed the sentence.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mrs. Browning needs a lapidary," Mr. Granger said; "but her
-husband's constipated style is a necessity. His books are books
-of quintessences. At first I thought him suggestive; but soon
-perceived that he was stimulating instead. He seems to have
-brushed a subject. Look again, and you will see that he has
-exhausted it."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret read the titles of the books, and in them read, also,
-something of the minds of her new associates. There were a few
-shining names from each of the great nations, and a good
-selection of English and American authors, the patriarchs in
-their places. She had a word for each, but thought, "I wonder why
-I like Lowell, almost in silence, yet like him best."
-</p>
-<p>
-Near this was another case of books, all Oriental, or relating to
-the Orient. There were the Talmud and the Koran; there were
-hideous mythologies full of propitiatory prayers to the devil.
-There were <i>Vathek, The Arabian Nights, Ferdousi</i>, and a
-hundred others. Over this case hung an oval water-color of sea
-and sky with a rising sun blazing at the horizon, lighting with
-flickering gold a path across the blue, liquid expanse, and
-flooding with light the ethereal spaces. On a scroll beneath this
-was inscribed, "Ex Oriente Lux."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Light and hasheesh," said Mr. Southard laughingly. "Don't linger
-there too long."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger called Dora to him. "What has my little girl been
-learning to-day?" he asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-The little one's eyes flashed with a sudden, glorious
-recollection. "O papa! I can spell cup."
-</p>
-<p>
-The father was suitably astonished.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is it possible? Let me hear."
-</p>
-<p>
-The child raised her eyebrows, and played the coquette with her
-erudition. "You spell it," she said tauntingly.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162">{162}</a></span>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger leaned back in his chair, and knitted his brows in
-intense study. "T-a-s-s-e, cup."
-</p>
-<p>
-"No-o, papa," said the fairy at his knee.
-</p>
-<p>
-"T-a-z-z-a, cup!" he essayed again.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dora shook her flossy curls.
-</p>
-<p>
-"T-a-z-a, cup!" he said desperately.
-</p>
-<p>
-The child looked at him with tears in her eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh!" he said, "c-u-p, cup!" at which she screamed with delight.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How blue it sounds," said Margaret. "Like a Canterbury bell with
-a handle to it."
-</p>
-<p>
-A tray was brought in with coffee, which was Dora's signal to go
-to bed. She took an affectionate leave of all, but hid her face
-in Margaret's neck in saying good night.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who was the little girl in the picture?" she whispered.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It was you, dear," was the reply.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I keeped thinking of it this ever so long," said the child.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her father always accompanied her to the foot of the stairs; and
-the two went out together, Dora clinging to his hand, which she
-held against her cheek, and he looking down upon her with a fond
-smile.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret shrank with a momentary spasm of pain and terror, as she
-looked after them. How fearful is that clinging love which human
-beings have for each other! how terrible, since, sooner or later,
-they must part; since, at any instant, the hand of fate may be
-outstretched to snatch them asunder!
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are you ill?" whispered Aurelia, touching her arm.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret started, and recollected herself with an effort; then
-smiled without an effort; for the door opened, and Mr. Granger
-came in again, glancing first at her, then coming to sit near
-her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have found out the origin of coffee," Mrs. Lewis said. "It is,
-or is capable of being, a Mohammedan legend. I will tell you.
-When Mother Eve, to whom be peace! fell, after her sin, from the
-seventh heaven, and was precipitated to earth, as she slipped
-over the verge of Paradise, she instinctively flung out her arm,
-and caught at a shrub with milk-white blossoms that grew there.
-It broke in her hand. She fell into Arabia, near Mocha. The
-branch that fell with her took root and grew, and had blossoms
-with five petals, as white as the beautiful Mother's five
-fingers. And that's the history of coffee. Aura, give me a cup
-without delay. That story was salt."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why should we not have sentiments with so wonderful a draught?"
-Mr. Granger said. "Propose anything. Shall I begin? I have been
-reading the European news. Victor Emmanuel is dawning like a sun
-over Italy. I propose Rome, the dead lion, with honey for
-Samson."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis pushed out his underlip. He always scouted at
-republicans, red or black.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I follow you," he said immediately, with a sly glance at Mr.
-Southard. "Rome, the rock that does not crack, though all the
-bores blast it."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was a momentary pause, during which the eyes of the
-minister scintillated. Then he exclaimed, "Luther, the Moses at
-the stroke of whose rod the rock was rent, and the gospel waters
-loosed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! Luther!" endorsed Mr. Lewis with an affectation of
-enthusiasm. "Greater than Nimrod, he built a Babel which babbles
-to the ends of the earth."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard flashed out, "Yes; and every tongue can spell the
-word Bible, sir!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"And deny its plainest teachings," was the retort; "and vilify
-the hand that preserved it!"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163">{163}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Now, Charles," interposed Mrs. Lewis, touching her husband's
-arm, "why will you say what you do not mean, just for the sake of
-being disagreeable? You know, Mr. Southard, that he cares no more
-for Rome than he does for Pekin, and knows no more about it,
-indeed. The fact is, he has the greatest respect for our
-church&mdash;may I say <i>militant</i>?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Sweet peacemaker!" exclaimed Mr. Lewis, delighted with the neat
-little sting at the end of his wife's speech.
-</p>
-<p>
-Aurelia lifted her cup, and interposed with a laughing quotation:
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Here's a health to all those that we love. Here's a health to
-all them that love us. Here's a health to all those that love
-them that love those that love them that love those that love
-us.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-This was drunk with acclamations, and peace restored.
-</p>
-<p>
-After a while Mr. Lewis managed, or happened, to find Margaret
-apart.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I protest I never had a worse opinion of myself than I have
-tonight," he said. "There I had promised Louis and my wife to let
-religion alone, and not get up a skirmish with the minister for
-at least a week after you came; and I meant to keep my promise.
-But you see what my resolutions are worth. I am sincerely sorry
-if I have vexed you."
-</p>
-<p>
-He looked so sorry, and spoke so frankly, that Margaret could not
-help giving him a pleasant answer, though she had been
-displeased.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The fact is," he went on, lowering his voice, "I have seen so
-much cant, and hypocrisy, and inconsistency in religion that it
-has disgusted me with the whole business. I may go too far. I
-don't doubt that there are honest men and women in the churches;
-but to my mind they are few and far between. I've nothing to say
-against Mr. Southard, and I don't want any one else to speak
-against him. I say uglier things to his face than I would say
-behind his back. He's a good man, according to his light; but you
-must permit me to say that it is a Bengal-light to my eyes. I
-can't stand it. It turns me blue all through."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Perhaps you do not understand him," Margaret suggested. "May be
-you haven't given him a chance to explain."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I tried to be fair," was the reply. "Now Southard," said I,
-"tell me what you want me to believe, and I'll believe if I can."
-Well, the first thing he told me was, that I must give up my
-reason. 'By George, I won't!' said I, and there was an end to the
-catechism. Of course, if I set my reason aside, I might be made
-to believe that chalk is cheese. Perhaps I am stubborn and
-material, as he says; but I am what God made me; and I won't
-pretend to be anything else. I believe that there is somewhere a
-way for us all&mdash;a way that we shall know is right, when once we
-get into it. These fishers of men ought to remember that whales
-are not caught with trout-hooks, and that it isn't the whale's
-fault if there's a good deal of blubber to get through before you
-reach the inside of him. St. Paul let fly some pretty sharp
-harpoons. I can't get 'em out of me for my life. And, for another
-kind of man, I like Beecher. His bait isn't painted flies, but
-fish, a piece of yourself. But the trouble with him is, there's
-no barb on his catch. You slip off as easily as you get on."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret was glad when the others interposed and put an end to
-this talk. To her surprise, she had nothing to reply to Mr.
-Lewis's objections. And not only that, but, while he spoke, she
-perceived in her own mind a faint echo to his dissatisfaction. Of
-course it must be wrong, and she was glad to have the
-conversation put an end to.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164">{164}</a></span>
-<p>
-They had music, Aurelia playing with a good deal of taste some
-perfectly harmless pieces. While she listened, Miss Hamilton's
-glance wandered about the rooms, finding them quite to her taste.
-The first impertinent gloss of everything had worn off, and each
-article had mellowed into its place, like the colors of an old
-picture. There was none of that look we sometimes see, of
-everything having been dipped into the same paint-pot. The
-furniture was rich in material and beautiful in shape; the
-upholstery a heavy silk and wool, the colors deep and harmonious,
-nothing too fine for use. The dull amber of the walls was nearly
-covered with pictures, book-cases, cabinets, and brackets; there
-was every sort of table, from the two large central ones with
-black marble tops, piled with late books and periodicals, to the
-tiny teapoys that could be lifted on a finger, marvels of gold,
-and japanning, and ingenious Chinese perspective. On the black
-marble mantel-piece near her were a pair of silver candelebra,
-heirlooms in the family, and china vases of glowing colors,
-purple, and rose, and gold. There was more bronze than parian;
-there were curtains wherever curtains could be; and withal, there
-was plentiful space to get about, and for the ladies to display
-their trains.
-</p>
-<p>
-All this her first glance took in with a sense of pleasure. Then
-she looked deeper, and perceived friendship, ease, security, all
-that make the soul of home. Deeper yet, then, to the vague
-longing for a love, a security, a rest exceeding the earthly. One
-who has suffered much can never again feel quite secure, but
-shrinks from delight almost as much as from pain.
-</p>
-<p>
-She turned to Mr. Southard, who sat beside her. "I am thinking
-how miserably we are the creatures of circumstance," she said, in
-her earnestness forgetting how abrupt she might seem. "When we
-are troubled, everything is dark; when we are happy, everything
-that approaches casts its shadow behind, and shows a sunny
-front."
-</p>
-<p>
-He regarded her kindly, pleased with her almost confidential
-manner. "There is but one escape from such slavery," he said.
-"When we set the sun of righteousness in the zenith of our lives,
-then shadows are annihilated, not hidden, but annihilated."
-</p>
-<p>
-When Margaret went up-stairs that night, she knelt before her
-open window, and leaned out, feeling, rather than seeing, the
-brooding, starless sky, soft and shadowy, like wings over a nest.
-Her soul uplifted itself blindly, almost painfully, beating
-against its ignorance. There was something out of sight and
-reach, which she wanted to see and to touch. There was one hidden
-whom she longed to thank and adore.
-</p>
-<p>
-"O brooding wings!" she whispered, stretching out her hands. "O
-father and mother-bird over the nest where the little ones lie in
-the sweet, sweet dark!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Words failed. She knew not what to say. "I wish that I could
-pray!" she thought, tears overflowing her eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret did not know that she had prayed.
-</p>
-<br>
-            <h3>Chapter IV.
-<br><br>
-         Just Before Light.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-The days were well arranged in the Granger mansion. Breakfast was
-a movable feast, and silent for the most part. The members of the
-family broke their fast when and as they liked, often with a book
-or paper for company.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165">{165}</a></span>
-<p>
-Most persons feel disinclined to talk in the morning, and are
-social only from necessity. This household recognized and
-respected the instinct. One could always hold one's tongue there.
-If they did not follow the old Persian rule never to speak till
-one had something to say worth hearing, they at least kept
-silence when they felt so inclined.
-</p>
-<p>
-Luncheon was never honored by the presence of the gentlemen,
-except that on rare occasions Mr. Southard came out of his study
-to join the ladies, who by this time had found their tongues.
-They preferred his usual custom of taking a scholarly cup of tea
-in the midst of his books.
-</p>
-<p>
-To the natural woman an occasional gossip is a necessity; and if
-ever these three ladies indulged in that pardonable weakness, it
-was over their luncheon. At six o'clock all met at dinner, and
-passed the evening together. This disposition of time left the
-greater part of the day free, for each one to spend as he chose,
-and brought them together again at the close of the day, more or
-lest tired, always glad to meet, often with something to say.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret found herself fully and pleasantly occupied. Besides
-translating, she had again set up her easel, and spent an hour or
-two daily at her former pretty employment. The value of her
-services increased, she found, in proportion as she grew
-indifferent to rendering them; and she could now select her own
-work, and dictate terms. But her most delightful occupation was
-the teaching her three little pupils.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are two ways of teaching children. One is to seek to impose
-on them our own individuality, to dogmatize, in utter
-unconsciousness that they are the most merciless of critics,
-frequently the keenest of observers, and that they do not so much
-lack ideas, as the power of expression. Such teachers climb on to
-a pedestal, and talk complacently downward at pupils who,
-perhaps, do not in the least consider them classical personages.
-We cannot impose on children unless we can dazzle them, sometimes
-not even then.
-</p>
-<p>
-The other mode is to stand on their own platform, and talk up,
-not logically, according to Kant or Hamilton, but in that
-circuitous and inconsequent manner which is often the most
-effectual logic with children. We all know that the greatest
-precision of aim is attained through a spiral bore; and perhaps
-these young minds oftener reach the mark in that indirect manner,
-than they would by any more formal process.
-</p>
-<p>
-This was Miss Hamilton's mode of teaching and influencing
-children, and it was as fascinating to her as to them. She
-treated them with respect, never laughed at their crude ideas,
-did not require of them a self-control difficult for an adult to
-practice, and never forgot that some ugly duck might turn out to
-be a swan. But where she did assert authority, she was absolute;
-and she was merciless to insolence and disobedience.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I want cake. I don't like bread and butter," says Dora.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. James fired didactic platitudes at the child, Aurelia
-coaxed, and Mrs. Lewis preached hygiene. Miss Hamilton knew
-better than either. She sketched a bright word-picture of waving
-wheat-fields over-buzzed by bees, over-fluttered by birds,
-starred through and through with little intrusive flowers that
-had no business whatever there, but were let stay; of the shaking
-mill where the wheat was ground, and the gay stream that laughed,
-and set its shining shoulder to the great wheel, and pushed, and
-ran away, blind with foam; of the yeasty sponge, a pile of milky
-bubbles.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166">{166}</a></span>
-She told of sweet clover-heads, red and white, and the cow and
-the bees seeing who should get them first. 'I want them for my
-honey,' says the bee. 'And I want them for my cream,' says Mooly.
-And they both made a snatch, and Mooly got the clover, and
-perhaps a purple violet with it, and the cream got the sweetness
-of them, and then it was churned, and there was the butter! She
-described the clean, cool dairy, full of a ceaseless flicker of
-light and shade from the hop-vines that swung outside the window,
-and waved the humming-birds away, of pans and pans of yellow
-cream, smooth and delicious, of fresh butter just out of the
-churn, glowing like gold through its bath of water, of pink and
-white petals of apple-blossoms drifting in on the soft breeze,
-and settling&mdash;"who knows but a pink, crimped-up-at-the-edges
-petal may have settled on this very piece of butter? Try, now, if
-it doesn't taste apple-blossomy."
-</p>
-<p>
-Nonsense, of course, when viewed from a dignified altitude; but
-when looked up at from a point about two feet from the ground, it
-was the most excellent sense imaginable. To these three little
-girls, Dora, Agnes, and Violet, Miss Hamilton was a goddess.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret did not neglect her own mind in those happy days. Mr.
-Southard marked out for her a course of reading in which, it is
-true, poetry and fiction, with a few shining exceptions, were
-tabooed; but metaphysics was permitted; and history enjoined tome
-upon tome, striking octaves up the centuries, and dying away in
-tinkling mythologies. She read conscientiously, sometimes with
-pleasure, sometimes with a half-acknowledged weariness.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard was a severe Mentor. As he did not spare himself, so
-he did not spare others, still less Margaret. She failed to
-perceive, what was plain to the others, that, by virtue of her
-descent, he considered her his especial charge, and was trying to
-form her after his notions. She acquiesced in all his
-requirements, half from indifference, half from a desire to
-please everybody, since she was herself so well pleased; and then
-forgot all about him. It was out of his power to trouble her save
-for a moment.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You yield too much to that man," Mrs. Lewis said to her one day.
-"He is one of those positive persons who cannot help being
-tyrannical."
-</p>
-<p>
-"He has a fine mind," said Margaret absently.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," the lady acknowledged in a pettish tone. "But if he would
-send a few pulses up to irrigate his brain, it would be an
-improvement."
-</p>
-<p>
-Of course Mr. Southard spoke of religion to his pupil, and urged
-on her the duty of being united with the church.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I cannot be religious, as the church requires," she said
-uneasily, dreading lest he might overcome her will without
-convincing her reason. "I think that it is something cabalistic."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your grandfather, and your father and mother did not find it
-so," the minister said reprovingly.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret caught her breath with pain, and lifted her hand in a
-quick, silencing gesture. "I never bury my dead!" she said; and
-after a moment added, "It may be wrong, but this religion seems
-to me like a strait-jacket. I like to read of David dancing
-before the ark, of dervishes whirling, of Shakers clapping their
-hands, of Methodists singing at the tops of their voices 'Glory
-Hallelujah!' or falling into trances. Religion is not fervent
-enough for me. It does not express my feelings. I hardly know
-what I need. Perhaps I am all wrong."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167">{167}</a></span>
-<p>
-She stopped, her eyes filling with tears of vexation.
-</p>
-<p>
-But even as the drops started, they brightened; for, just in
-season to save her from still more pressing exhortation, Mr.
-Granger sauntered across the room, and put some careless question
-to the minister.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard recollected that he had to lecture that evening, and
-left the room to prepare himself.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am so glad you came!" Margaret said, "I was on the point of
-being bound, and gagged, and blindfolded."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger took the chair that the minister had vacated, and
-drew up to him a little stand on which he leaned his arms, "I
-perceived that I was needed," he said. "There was no mistaking
-your besieged expression; and I saw, too, that look in Mr.
-Southard's face which tells that he is about to pile up an
-insurmountable argument. I do not think that you will be any
-better for having religious discussions with him. You will only
-be fretted and uneasy. Mr. Southard is an excellent man, and a
-sincere Christian; but he is in danger of mistaking his own
-temperament for a dogma."
-</p>
-<p>
-"If I thought that, then I shouldn't mind so much," Margaret
-said. "But I have been taking for granted that he is right and I
-wrong, and trying to let him think for me. The result is, that
-instead of being convinced, I have only been irritated. I must
-think for myself, whether I wish to or not. Now he circumscribes
-my reading so. It is miscellaneous, I know; but I am curious
-about everything in the universe. I don't like closed doors. He
-thinks my curiosity trivial and dangerous, and reminds me that a
-rolling stone gathers no moss."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And I would ask, with the canny Scotchman,'what good does the
-moss do the stone?'" Mr. Granger replied. "The fact is, you've
-got to do just as I did with him. He and I fought that battle out
-long ago, and now he lets me alone, and we are good friends. Be
-as curious as you like. I heard him speak with disapproval of
-your going to the Jewish synagogue last week, and I dare say you
-resolved not to go again. Go, if you wish; and don't ask his
-permission. He frowned on the Greek anthology, and you laid it
-aside. Take it up again if you like. Even pagan flowers catch the
-dews of heaven. Your own good taste and delicacy will be a
-sufficient censor in matters of reading."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Now I breathe!" Margaret said joyfully. "Some people can bear to
-be so hemmed in; but I cannot. It does me harm. If I am denied a
-drop of water, which, given, would satisfy me, at once I thirst
-for the ocean. I cannot help it. It is my way."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Don't try to help it," Mr. Granger replied decisively; "or,
-above all, don't allow any one else to try to help it for you. I
-have no patience with such impositions. It is an insult to
-humanity, and an insult to Him who created humanity, for any one
-person to attempt to think for another. Obedience and humility
-are good only when they are voluntary, and are practised at the
-mandate of reason. There are people who never go out of a certain
-round, never want to. They are born, they live, and they die, in
-the mental and moral domicil of their forefathers. They have no
-orbit, but only an axis. Stick a precedent through them, and give
-them a twirl, and they will hum on contentedly to the end of the
-chapter. I've nothing against them, as long as they let others
-alone, and don't insist that to stay in one place and buzz is the
-end of humanity.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168">{168}</a></span>
-Other people there are who grow, they are insatiably curious,
-they dive to the heart of things, they take nothing without a
-question. They are not quite satisfied with truth itself till
-they have compared it with all that claims to be truth. Let them
-look, I say. It's a poor truth that won't bear any test that man
-can put to it. The first are, as Coleridge says, 'very positive,
-but not quite certain' that they are right; to the last a
-conviction once won is perfect and indestructible. Rest with them
-is not vegetation, but rapture.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Fly abroad, my wild bird! don't be afraid. Use your wings. That
-is what they were made for."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret forgot to answer in listening and looking at the
-speaker's animated face. When Mr. Granger was in earnest, he had
-an impetuous way that carried all before it. At the end, his
-shining eyes dropped on her and seemed to cover her with light;
-the impatient ring in his voice softened to an indulgent
-tenderness. Margaret felt as a flower may feel that has its fill
-of sun and dew, and has nothing to do but bloom, and then fade
-away. She had no fear of this man, no sense of humiliation with
-regard to the past. Her gratitude toward him was boundless. To
-him she owed life and all that made life tolerable, and any
-devotion which he could require of her she was ready to render.
-Her friendship was perfect, deep, frank, and full of a silent
-delight. She did not deify him, but was satisfied to find him
-human. He could speak a cross word if his beef was over-done, his
-coffee too weak, or his paper out of the way when he wanted it.
-He could criticise people occasionally, and laugh at their
-weakness, even when his kind heart reproached him for doing it.
-He liked to lounge on a sofa and read, when he had better be
-about his business. He needed rousing, she thought; was too much
-of a Sybarite to live in a world full of over-worked people.
-Perhaps he was rusting. But how kind and thoughtful he was; how
-full of sympathy when sympathy was needed; how generously he
-blamed himself when he was wrong, and how readily forgot the
-faults of others. How impossible it was for him to be mean or
-selfish! His rich, sweet, slow nature reminded her of a rose; but
-she felt intuitively that under that silence was hidden a heroic
-strength.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard's lecture was on the Jesuits; and all the family
-were to go and hear him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Terribly hot weather for such a subject," Mr. Lewis grumbled.
-"But it wouldn't be respectful not to go. Don't forget to take
-your smelling-salts, girls. There will be a strong odor of
-brimstone in the entertainment.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret went to the lecture with a feeling that was almost fear.
-To her the name of Jesuit was a terror. The day of those
-powerful, guileful men was passed, surely; and yet, what if, in
-the strange vicissitudes of life, they should revive again? She
-was glad that the minister was going to raise his warning voice;
-yet still, she dreaded to hear him. The subject was too exciting.
-</p>
-<p>
-The lecture was what might be expected. Beginning with Ignatius
-of Loyola, the speaker traced the progress of that unique and
-powerful society through its wonderful increase, and its
-downfall, to the present time, when as he said, the bruised
-serpent was again raising its head.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169">{169}</a></span>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard did full justice to their learning, their sagacity,
-and their zeal. He told with a sort of shrinking admiration how
-men possessed of tastes and accomplishments which fitted them to
-shine in the most cultivated society, buried themselves in
-distant and heathen lands, far removed from all human sympathy,
-hardened their scholarly hands with toil, encountered danger,
-suffered death&mdash;for what? That their society might prosper! The
-subject seemed to have for the speaker a painful fascination. He
-lingered while describing the unparalleled devotion, the
-pernicious enthusiasm of these men. He acknowledged that they
-proclaimed the name of Christ where it had never been heard
-before; he lamented that ministers of the gospel had not emulated
-their heroism; but there the picture was over-clouded, was vailed
-in blackness. It needed so much brightness in order that the
-darkness which followed might have its full effect.
-</p>
-<p>
-We all know what pigments are used in that Plutonian
-shading&mdash;mental reservation, probableism, and the doctrine that
-the end justifies the means; the latter a fiction, the two former
-scrupulously misrepresented.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here Mr. Southard was at home. Here he could denounce with fiery
-indignation, point with lofty scorn. The close of the lecture
-left the characters of the Jesuits as black as their robes. They
-had been lifter only to be cast down.
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton walked home with Mr. Granger, scarcely uttering a
-word the whole way.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You do not speak of the lecture," he said when they were at the
-house steps. "Has it terrified you so much that you dare not?
-Shall you start up from sleep to-night fancying that a great
-black Jesuit has come to carry you off?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you know, Mr. Granger," she said slowly, "those men seem to
-me very much like the apostles; in their devotion, I mean? I
-would like to read about them. They are interesting."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! they have, doubtless, books which will tell you all you want
-to know," he replied.
-</p>
-<p>
-"<i>They!</i>" repeated Margaret. "But I want to know the truth."
-Mr. Granger laughed. "Then I advise you to read nothing, and hear
-nothing."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How then shall I learn?" demanded Miss Hamilton with a touch of
-impatience.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Descend into the depth of your consciousness, as the German did
-when he wanted to make a correct drawing of an elephant."
-</p>
-<p>
-"No," she replied remembering the story, "I will imitate the
-Frenchman; I will go to the elephant's country, and draw from
-life."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is not difficult," Mr. Granger said, amused at the idea of
-Miss Hamilton studying the Jesuits. "These elephants have jungles
-the world over. In this city you may find one on Endicott street,
-another on Suffolk street, and a third on Harrison avenue."
-</p>
-<p>
-They were just entering the house. Margaret hesitated, and paused
-in the entry.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You do not think this a foolish curiosity?" she asked wistfully.
-"You see no harm in my wishing to know something more about
-them?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger was leaving his hat and gloves on the table. He
-turned immediately, surprised at the serious manner in which the
-question was put.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Surely not!" he said promptly. "I should be very inconsistent if
-I did."
-</p>
-<p>
-She stood an instant longer, her face perfectly grave and pale.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are afraid?" he asked smiling.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170">{170}</a></span>
-<p>
-"No," she replied hesitatingly, "I don't think that is it. But I
-have all my life had such a horror of Catholics, and especially
-of Jesuits, that to resolve even to look at them deliberately,
-seems almost as momentous a step as Caesar crossing the Rubicon."
-</p>
-<br>
-                   <h3>Chapter V.
-<br><br>
-       The Sword Of The Lord And Of Gideon.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-Boston, at the beginning of the war, was not a place to go to
-sleep in. Massachusetts politics, so long eminent in the senate,
-had at last taken the field; and that city, which is the brain of
-the State, effervesced with enthusiasm. Men the least heroic,
-apparently, showed themselves capable of heroism; and dreamers
-over the great deeds of others looked up to find that they might
-themselves be "the hymn the Brahmin sings."
-</p>
-<p>
-Eager crowds surrounded the bulletin, put out by newspaper
-offices, or ran to gaze at mustering or departing regiments.
-Windows filled at the sound of a fife and drum; and it seemed
-that the air was fit to be breathed only when it was full of the
-flutter of flags.
-</p>
-<p>
-Ceremony was set aside. Strangers and foes spoke to each other;
-and the most disdainful lady would smile upon the roughest
-uniform. From the Protestant pulpit came no more the exhortation
-to brotherly love, but the trumpet-call to arms; and under the
-wing of the Old South meeting-house rose a recruiting office, and
-a rostrum, with the motto, "The sword of the Lord and of Gideon."
-</p>
-<p>
-The Lord of that time was he at the touch of whose rod the flesh
-and the loaves were consumed with fire; who sent for a sign a
-drench of dew on the fleece; at the command of whose servant all
-Ephraim shouted and took the waters before the flying Midianites,
-with the heads of Oreb and of Zeb on their spears.
-</p>
-<p>
-Of course there was a good deal of froth; but underneath glowed
-the pure wine. It is true that many went because the savage
-instinct hidden in human nature rose from its unseen lair, and
-fiercely shook itself awake at the scent of blood. But others
-came from an honest sense of duty, and offered their lives
-knowing what they did; and women who loved them said amen. It was
-a stirring time.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is not to be supposed that our friends were indifferent to
-these events. It was a doubtful point with them, indeed, whether
-they could be content to leave the city that summer. Mr. Southard
-was decidedly for remaining in town; and Mr. Granger, though less
-excited, was inclined to second him. But Mr. Lewis had, early in
-the spring, engaged a cottage at the seaside, with the
-understanding that the whole family were to accompany him there,
-and he utterly refused to release them from their promise. As if
-to help his arguments, the weather became intensely hot in June.
-Finally they consented to go.
-</p>
-<p>
-"We owe you thanks for your persistence," Mr. Granger said, as
-they sat together the last evening of their stay in town. "I
-couldn't stand two months of this."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis was past answering. Dressed in a complete suit of
-linen, seated in a wide Fayal chair, with a palm-leaf fan in one
-hand and a handkerchief in the other, he presented what his wife
-called an ill-tempered dissolving view. At that moment, the only
-desire of his heart was that one of Sydney Smith's, that he could
-take off his flesh and sit in his bones.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171">{171}</a></span>
-<p>
-Aurelia and Margaret sat near by, flushed, smiling, and languid,
-trying to look cool in their crisp, white dresses.
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton would scarcely be recognized by one who had seen
-her only three months before. Happiness had done its work, and
-she was beautiful. Her face had recovered its smooth curves and
-bloomy whiteness, and her lips were constantly brightening with
-the smile that was ever ready to come.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger contemplated the two young ladies with a patriarchal
-admiration. He liked to have beautiful objects in his sight; and
-surely, he thought, no other man in the city could boast of
-having in his family two such girls as those who now sat opposite
-him. Besides, what was best, they were friends of his, and
-regarded him with confidence and affection.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis glanced from them to him, and back to them, and pouted
-her lip a little. "He is enough to try the patience of a saint!"
-she was thinking. "Why doesn't he marry one of those girls like a
-sensible man? To be sure, it is their fault. They are too
-friendly and frank with him, the simpletons! There they sit and
-beam on him with affectionate tranquillity, as if he were their
-grandfather. I'd like to give 'em a shaking."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard was walking slowly to and fro from the back-parlor
-to the front, and he, too, glanced frequently at the sofa where
-sat the two unconscious beauties. But no smile softened his pale
-face. It seemed, indeed, sterner than usual. The war was stirring
-the minister to the depths.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis opened a blind near him. A beam of dusty gold came in
-from the west; he snapped the blind in its face.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Seems to me it takes the sun a long time to get down," he said
-crossly. "I hope that none of your mighty Joshuas has commanded
-it to stand still."
-</p>
-<p>
-No one answered. They sat in the sultry gloaming, and listened
-dreamily to the mingled city noises that came from near and far;
-the softened roll of a private carriage, like the touch of a
-gloved hand, after the knuckled grasp of drays and carts; the
-irritating wheeze of an inexorable hand-organ; and, through all,
-the shrill cry of the news-boy, the cicada of the city.
-</p>
-<p>
-The good-breeding of the company was shown by the perfect
-composure of their silence, and the perfect quiescence of their
-minds, by the fact that their thoughts all drifted in the same
-direction, each one after its own mode.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis was thinking: "Those poor horses! I wish they knew
-enough to organize a strike, and all run away into the green,
-shady country."
-</p>
-<p>
-The husband was saying relentingly to himself, "I declare I do
-pity the poor fellows who have to work during this infernal
-weather."
-</p>
-<p>
-The others were still more in harmony with Mr. Granger when he
-spoke lowly, half to himself:
-</p>
-<p>
-"If that beautiful idyl of Ruskin's could be realized; that
-country and government where the king should be the father of his
-people; where all alike should go to him for help and comfort;
-where he should find his glory, not in enlarging his dominion,
-but in making it more happy and peaceful! Will such a kingdom
-ever be, I wonder? Will such a golden age ever come?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret glanced with a swift smile toward Mr. Southard, and saw
-the twin of her thought in his face. He came and stood with his
-hand on the arm of her sofa.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172">{172}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Both you and Mr. Ruskin are unconsciously thinking of the same
-thing," he said, with some new sweetness in his voice, and
-brightness in his face. "What you mean can only be the kingdom of
-God; and it will come! it will come!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Looking up smilingly at him, Margaret caught a smile in return;
-and then, for the first time, she thought that Mr. Southard was
-beautiful. The cold purity of his face was lighted momentarily by
-that glow which it needed in order to be attractive.
-</p>
-<p>
-Aurelia rose, and crossing the room, flung the blinds open. The
-sun had set, and a slight coolness was creeping up.
-</p>
-<p>
-"This butchery going on at the South looks as if the kingdom of
-God were coming with a vengeance," said Mr. Lewis, fanning
-himself.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is coming with a vengeance!" exclaimed Mr. Southard. "God
-does not work in sunshine alone. Job saw him in the whirlwind.
-Massachusetts soldiers have gone out with the Bible as well as
-the bayonet."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis contemplated the speaker with an expression of
-wondering admiration that was a little overdone.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What <i>did</i> God do before Massachusetts was discovered?" he
-exclaimed.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I was surprised to hear, Mr. Granger, that your cousin Sinclair
-had joined a New York regiment," Mrs. Lewis said hastily. "Only
-the day before the steamer sailed in which he had engaged
-passage, some quixotic whim seized him, and he volunteered. I
-cannot conceive what induced him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I think the uniform was becoming," Mr. Granger said dryly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I pity his wife," pursued the lady, sighing. "Poor Caroline!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"She has acted like a fool!" Mr. Lewis broke in angrily. "It was
-her fault that Sinclair went off. She thorned him perpetually
-with her exactions. She forgot that lovers are only common folks
-in a state of evaporation, and that it is in the nature of things
-that they should get condensed after a time. She wanted him to be
-for ever picking up her pocket-handkerchief, and writing
-acrostics on her name. A man can't stand that kind of folderol
-when he's got to be fifty years old. We begin to develop a taste
-for common sense when we reach that age."
-</p>
-<p>
-"He showed no confidence in her," Mrs. Lewis said, with downcast
-eyes, "He often deceived her, and therefore she always suspected
-him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I think that a man should have no concealments from his wife,"
-said Mr. Southard emphatically.
-</p>
-<p>
-"That's just what Samson's wife thought when her husband proposed
-his little conundrum to the Philistines," commented Mr. Lewis.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret got up and followed Aurelia to the window.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am very sorry for Cousin Caroline," said Mr. Granger, in his
-stateliest manner, rising, also, and putting an end to the
-discussion.
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is always sorry for any one who can contrive to appear
-abused," Mr. Lewis said to Margaret. "If you want to interest
-him, you must be as unfortunate as you can."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret looked at her friend with eyes to which the quick tears
-started, and blessed him in her heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-He was passing at the moment, and, catching the remark, feared
-lest she might be hurt or embarrassed.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Don't you want to come out on to the veranda?" he asked,
-glancing back as he stepped from the long window.
-</p>
-<p>
-The words were nothing; but they were so steeped in the kindness
-of the look and tone accompanying them that they seemed to be
-words of tenderness.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173">{173}</a></span>
-<p>
-She followed him out into the twilight; the others came too, and
-they sat looking into the street, saying little, but enjoying the
-refreshing coolness. Other people were at their windows, or on
-their steps; and occasionally an acquaintance passing stopped for
-a word. After a while G&mdash;&mdash;, the liberator, came along, and
-leaned on the fence a moment&mdash;a man with a ridge over the top of
-his bald head, that looked as if his backbone didn't mean to stop
-till it had reached his forehead, as probably it didn't; a
-soft-voiced, gently-speaking lion; but Margaret had heard him
-roar.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mr. G&mdash;&mdash;," said Mr. Granger, "here is a lady with two dactyls
-for a name, Miss Margaret Hamilton. She will add another, and be
-Miriam, when your people come out through the Red Sea we are
-making."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Have your cymbals ready, young prophetess," said the liberator.
-"The waters are lifting on the right hand and on the left."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-The next day they went to the seaside, the ladies going in the
-morning to set things in order; the gentlemen not permitted to
-make their appearance till evening.
-</p>
-<p>
-After a pleasant ride of an hour in the cars, they stepped out at
-a little way-station, where a carriage was awaiting them. About
-half a mile from this station, on a point of land hidden from it
-by a strip of thick woods, was their cottage.
-</p>
-<p>
-The place was quite solitary; not a house in sight landward,
-though summer cottages nestled all about among the hills, hidden
-in wild green nooks. But across the water, towns were visible in
-all directions.
-</p>
-<p>
-They drove with soundless wheels over a moist, brown road that
-wound and coiled through the woods. There had been a shower in
-the night that left everything washed, and the sky cloudless. It
-was yet scarcely ten o'clock; and the air, though warm, was fresh
-and still. The morning sunshine lay across the road, motionless
-between the motionless dense tree-shadows; both light and shade
-so still, so intense, they looked like a pavement of solid gold
-and amber. If, at intervals, a slight motion woke the woods, less
-like a breeze than a deep and gentle respiration of nature, and
-that leaf-and-flower-wrought pavement stirred through each
-glowing abaciscus, it was as though the solid earth were stirred.
-</p>
-<p>
-A faint sultry odor began to rise from the pine-tops, and from
-clumps of sweet-fern that stood in sunny spots; but the rank,
-long-stemmed flowers and trailing vines that grew under the trees
-were yet glistening with the undried shower; the shaded grass at
-the roadside was beaded, every blade, with minute sparkles of
-water; and here and there a pine-bough was thickly hung with
-drops that trembled with fulness at the points of its clustered
-emerald needles, and at a touch came clashing down in a shower
-that was distinctly heard through the silence.
-</p>
-<p>
-The birds were taking their forenoon rest; but, as the carriage
-rolled lightly past, a fanatical bobolink, who did not seem to
-have much common sense, but to be brimming over with the most
-glorious nonsense, swung himself down from some hidden perch,
-alighted in an utterly impossible manner on a spire of grass, and
-poured forth such a long-drawn, liquid, impetuous song, that it
-was a wonder there was anything of him left when it was over.
-</p>
-<p>
-Three pairs of hands were stretched to arrest the driver's arm;
-three smiling, breathless faces listened till the last note, and
-watched the ecstatic little warbler swim away with an undulating
-motion, as if he floated on the bubbling waves of his own song.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174">{174}</a></span>
-<p>
-In a few minutes a turn of the road brought them in sight of the
-blue, salt water spread out boundlessly, sparkling, and
-sail-flecked; and presently they drove up at the cottage door.
-</p>
-<p>
-This was a long, low building, all wings, like a moth; colored,
-like fungi, of mottled browns and yellows; overtrailed by
-woodbines and honeysuckles, through which you sometimes only
-guessed at the windows by the white curtains blowing out.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why, it is something that has grown out of the earth!" exclaimed
-Margaret. "See! the ground is all uneven about the walls as it is
-about the boles of trees."
-</p>
-<p>
-This rural domicil faced the east and the sea; and an unfenced
-lawn sloped down to the beach where the tide was now creeping up
-with bright ripples chasing each other.
-</p>
-<p>
-The house was pleasant enough, large and airy; and, after a few
-hours' work, they had everything in order. Then, tired, happy,
-and hungry, they sat down to luncheon.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Isn't it delightful to get rid of men a little while, when you
-know that they are soon to come again?" drawled Aurelia, sitting
-with both elbows on the table, and her rich hair a little
-tumbled.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret glanced at her with a smile of approval. "That sweet
-creature!" she thought. And said aloud, "You know perfectly well,
-Aura, that all the time they are gone we are thinking of them and
-doing something for them. Whom have we been working for to-day
-but the gentlemen, pray?"
-</p>
-<p>
-To her surprise, Aurelia's brown eyes dropped, and her beautiful
-face turned a sudden pink.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I never could carve a fowl," said Mrs. Lewis plaintively. "But
-there must be a beginning in learning anything. I wish I knew
-where the beginning of this duck is. Aura, will you go look in
-that Audubon, and see how this creature is put together? We are
-likely to be worse off than Mr. Secretary Pepys, when the venison
-pasty turned out to be 'palpable mutton.' We shall have nothing."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret started up. "Infirm of purpose, give me the carver!" she
-cried; and seizing the knife, in a moment of inspiration,
-triumphantly carved the mysterious duck, and betrayed its hidden
-articulations.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis contemplated her with great respect. "My dear," she
-said, "I have done you injustice. I have believed that though you
-could succeed admirably in the ornamental and the extraordinary,
-you had no faculty for common things. I acknowledge my
-error.'Nemesis favors genius,' as Disraeli says of Burke."
-</p>
-<p>
-After luncheon and a siesta, they dressed and went out onto the
-lawn to watch for the gentlemen, who presently appeared.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger presented Margaret with a spike of beautiful pink
-arethusa set in a ring of feathery ferns. "It came from a swamp
-miles away," he said. "I wanted to bring you something bright the
-first day."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You always bring me something bright," she said.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-             To Be Continued.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175">{175}</a></span>
-<br>
-    <h2><i>Problems Of The Age</i>, And Its Critics.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-The article from <i>The Independent</i> of August 20th, which we
-quote in full below, has been sent to us by the writer of it,
-with an accompanying note, requesting us to take notice of its
-observations. Our remarks will, therefore, be chiefly confined to
-this particular criticism on the <i>Problems of the Age</i>,
-although we shall embrace the opportunity to notice also some
-other criticisms which have been made in various periodicals.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The pastor of the Broadway Tabernacle, many years ago, taking
-  a hint from Archbishop Whately,'traced the errors of Romanism
-  to their origin,' <i>not</i> 'in human nature,' but in Old
-  School theology. The ultra-Calvinist doctrine of original sin,
-  he argued, necessitated the dogma of baptismal regeneration;
-  and the doctrine of physical inability brought in the notion of
-  sacramental grace. Mr. Hewit is a living example, and his book
-  is documentary proof, of the justice of this theory. His early
-  training was under the severest of schoolmasters, in the oldest
-  of schools. The problems on which his mind has been exercised
-  from his birth are such as this: How men can be 'born depraved,
-  with an irresistible propensity to sin, and under the doom of
-  eternal misery.' With admirable infelicity, a treatise on
-  questions like this&mdash;the freshest of which are as old as
-  Christian theology, and the others as old, if not older, than
-  the fall of man&mdash;has been entitled <i>Problems of the Age</i>,
-  on the ground (as we are informed in the preface) that they are
-  'subjects of much interest and inquiry in our own time.' From
-  his hereditary embarrassments on these subjects, the writer
-  makes his way out to a new theodicy, which on the subject of
-  the existence of sin is Taylorism, word for word; on the
-  subject of natural depravity is something like Pelagianism; and
-  on the subject of original sin is a curious notion, which he
-  strives mightily to represent as the sentiment of Augustine.
-  The whole series of ideas is labelled 'Catholic Theology,' and
-  represented as the antagonist of Protestant opinion.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The volume deserves no small praise as a specimen of lucid,
-  consecutive argument on difficult questions, conducted in pure
-  English. The only serious blemish upon the author's style is
-  his habit, when he has said a thing once in good English, of
-  saying it over again immediately in bad Latin. But this, we
-  suppose, is less the fault of his taste than of his position.
-  The logic of the book, also, has not more faults than are
-  commonly incident to such discussions; it is strong for pulling
-  down, feeble in building up. It reduces to absurdity the
-  statements of some of his antagonists, with wonderfully
-  complacent unconsciousness that a smart antagonist could get
-  exactly the same hitch about the neck of <i>its</i> statement,
-  and drag it to the same destruction.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The plan of the work is curious. It begins with the primary
-  cognitions of the mind, and goes forward with an <i>à priori
-  </i> argument for the existence of God: that if God exists, he
-  must necessarily exist in Trinity; must create just such a
-  universe; must be incarnate in the Second Person; must redeem a
-  fallen race; must institute the Roman Catholic Church, its
-  sacraments and ritual. The second part is devoted to finding in
-  Augustine the ideas of the former part&mdash;ideas some of which,
-  unless that lucid author has been hitherto read with a veil
-  upon the heart,
-</p>
-<p class="cite2">
-    'Would make <i>Augustine</i> stare and gasp.'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Besides the limits of space, which are imperative, two reasons
-  suffice to excuse us from examining in detail the course of
-  this ingenious and protracted argument:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "<i>First</i>. It is a matter of comparatively little interest
-  to scrutinize severely the <i>processes</i> of a reasoner to
-  whom one half of his <i>conclusions</i> are prescribed
-  beforehand, under peril of excommunication and eternal
-  damnation, while he holds the other half under a vow to
-  repudiate them at a moment's notice from the proper authority.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "<i>Second</i>. It is profoundly unsatisfactory to argue
-  against any such book, whatever its origin or pretensions, as
-  representative of the Roman Catholic theology. From page to
-  page the author challenges our respect and deference for his
-  views as being the teachings of the church.'This is Catholic
-  truth; this is Catholic theology.'
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176">{176}</a></span>
-  But, once let us give chase to one of his propositions, and
-  hunt it down into the corner of an absurdity, and we are sure
-  to hear some of the author's confederates trying to call off
-  the dogs with the assurance,'Oh! that is only a notion of
-  Hewit's;' or, 'only a private opinion of theologians;' or,
-  'only the declaration of an individual pope;' or, 'only a
-  decree of council which never was generally received: the
-  church is not responsible for such things as these.' So
-  slippery a thing is 'Catholic doctrine'! So unrestful is the
-  'repose' offered to inquiring minds by that church, which
-  divides all subjects of religious thought into two classes:
-  one, on which it is forbidden to make impartial inquiry; the
-  other, on which it is forbidden to come to settled
-  conclusions."
-</p>
-<p>
-We confess that it appears to us a very puzzling "problem" to
-find out how to answer the foregoing criticism, or the others
-from non-catholic periodicals which it has been our hap to fall
-in with. Not one of them has seriously controverted the main
-thesis of the book they profess to criticise, or to make any
-well-motived adjudication of the several portions of the argument
-by which the thesis is sustained. Some, like the one before us,
-attempt to set aside the whole question; others content
-themselves with a round assertion that the arguments are
-inconclusive; and the residue confine themselves to generalities;
-or, at most, to the criticism of some minor details. We should
-not think it worth while to trouble ourselves or our readers with
-a formal replication to such superficial critics, were it not for
-the opportunity which is afforded us of bringing into clearer
-light the total lack of all deep philosophy or theology in the
-non-catholic world, and the value of the Catholic philosophy
-which we are striving to bring before the minds of intelligent
-and sincere inquirers after truth.
-</p>
-<p>
-The criticisms begin with the title of the work. The critic of
-<i>The Independent</i> objects to our calling old questions
-<i>problems of the age</i>. <i>The Southern Review</i> coincides
-with him, and suggests that they should rather have been called
-"problems <i>of all ages;</i>" while another critic, in <i>The
-Evening Post</i>, gives his verdict that they are all to be
-classed as "problems of a bygone age." This last criticism is the
-only one founded upon a reason; and is, at the same time, a full
-justification of the appropriateness of the title before all
-those who still profess to believe in the revelation of God. The
-different classes of protesters against the teaching of the
-church have wearied themselves in vain in searching for a
-satisfactory solution of the problems of man's condition and
-destiny; either in some new rendering of divine revelation, or in
-some system of purely rational philosophy. The despair produced
-by their utter failure vents itself in the denial that these
-problems are real ones, capable of any solution at all, and in
-the attempt to relegate them finally into the region of the
-unknowable. This is a vain effort. They have forced themselves
-upon the attention of the human mind ever since the creation, and
-they will continue to do so, in spite of all efforts to exorcise
-them. The relations of man to his Creator, the reason of moral
-and physical evil, the bearing of the present life on the future,
-the significance of Christianity, and such like topics, can be
-regarded as obsolete questions only by a most unpardonable
-levity. The so-called Liberal Christian and the rationalist may
-in deed proffer the opinion that the solutions we have given are
-already antiquated. But, with all the hardihood which persons of
-this class possess in so remarkable a degree in claiming for
-themselves all the light, all the intelligence, all the spiritual
-vitality existing in the world, we must persist in thinking that
-their triumphant tone is some what prematurely assumed.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177">{177}</a></span>
-We insist that the problems of bygone ages are the problems of
-the present ages, and that the solutions of bygone ages are the
-only real ones, as true and as necessary at the present moment as
-they have ever been. The restless mind of the non-Catholic world,
-having broken away from its intellectual centre to wander
-aimlessly in the infinite void, has plunged itself anew into all
-the puzzle and bewilderment from which Christianity with its
-divine philosophy had once delivered it, and, wearied with its
-wanderings, longs and yet delays to return to its proper orbit.
-Hence the great problems of past ages have become emphatically
-the problems of the present, and must be answered anew, by the
-same principles and the same truths which past ages found
-sufficient, yet presented in part in modified language, in a new
-dress, and with special application to new phases of error. The
-title <i>Problems of the Age</i> is therefore fully justified as
-the most felicitous and appropriate which could have been chosen
-for a treatise intended to meet the wants of those who are
-seeking for help in their doubts and difficulties respecting both
-natural and revealed religion. Any believer in the Christian
-revelation who cannot recognize this, and heartily sympathize in
-any well-meant effort to present the Christian mysteries in an
-aspect which may attract honest and candid doubters or
-unbelievers, shows that he has mistaken his side, and has more
-intellectual sympathy with unbelief than he would willingly
-acknowledge, even to himself.
-</p>
-<p>
-Another anonymous critic sets aside with one sentence the entire
-argument of the book; because, forsooth, it begins with the
-assumption that the Catholic doctrine is the only true one, and
-demands a preliminary submission of the reader's mind to the
-authority of the Catholic Church. Nothing could be more
-superficial and incorrect than this statement of the thesis
-proposed by the author. The whole course of the argument supposes
-that an unbeliever or inquirer after the true religion begins
-with the first, self-evident principles of reason; proceeds, by
-way of demonstration, to the truths of natural theology, and by
-the way of evidence and the motives of credibility advances to
-the belief of Christianity and the divine authority of the
-Catholic Church. The thesis proposed or the special topic to be
-discussed by the author is, Supposing the authority of the
-Catholic Church sufficiently established by extrinsic evidence,
-is there any insurmountable obstacle, on the side of reason, to
-accept her dogmas as intrinsically credible? The implicit or even
-explicit affirmation that Catholic philosophy is the true and
-only philosophy, that it alone can satisfy the demands of reason,
-is no begging of the question; for it is not stated as the
-<i>datum</i> or logical premiss from which the logical
-conclusions are drawn. It is stated as being, so far as the mind
-of the sceptical reader is concerned, only an hypothesis to be
-proved, an enunciation of the judgment which is made by the mind
-of a Catholic, the motives of which the non-catholic reader is
-invited to examine and consider by the light of the principles of
-reason, or of those revealed truths of which he is already
-convinced.
-</p>
-<p>
-A most sapient critic in the London <i>Athenaeum</i>, venturing
-entirely out of his depth, makes an observation on the statement
-that absolute beauty is identical with the divine essence, which
-we notice merely for the amusement of our theological readers.
-The statement of the author is, that beauty is to be identified
-with the divine essence, by virtue of its definition as the
-splendor of truth, and because truth, being identical with the
-divine essence, its splendor must be also.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178">{178}</a></span>
-This consummate philosopher argues that beauty must be
-identified, not with the divine essence, but with its splendor,
-because it is the splendor of truth. The splendor of God is,
-then, something distinct from God; and he is not most pure act
-and most simple being! We cannot wish for a more apposite
-illustration of the total loss of the first and most fundamental
-conceptions of philosophy and natural theology out of the English
-mind&mdash;a natural result of that movement which began with Luther,
-when he publicly burned the <i>Summa</i> of St. Thomas.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>The Mercersburg Review</i> denies the demonstrative force of
-the evidences of natural religion and positive revelation;
-referring us to conscience, or the moral sense, as the ground of
-belief in God and in Jesus Christ. This is another proof of the
-truth of our judgment, that the radical intellectual disease
-which Protestantism has produced requires treatment by a thorough
-dosing with sound philosophy. The corruption of theology has
-brought on a corruption of philosophy, and heresy has produced
-scepticism, so that we can hardly find a sound spot to begin with
-as a <i>point d'appui</i> for the reconstruction of rational and
-orthodox belief. We do not despise the argument from conscience
-and the moral sense, or deny its validity. We did not specially
-draw it out, because we were not writing a complete treatise on
-natural theology; but it is contained in the metaphysical
-argument establishing the first and final cause. Apart from that,
-it has no conclusive force. What is conscience? Nothing but a
-practical judgment respecting that which ought to be done or left
-undone. What is the moral sense, but an intimate apprehension of
-the relation of the voluntary acts of an intelligent and free
-agent to a final cause? It is only intellect which can take
-cognizance of a rule or principle directing a certain act to be
-done or omitted, or of the intrinsic necessity of directing all
-acts toward a final cause or ultimate end. The intellect cannot
-do this, or deduce an argument from conscience and the moral
-sense for the existence of God, unless it has certain infallible
-principles given it in its creation; and with these principles,
-the existence of God and all natural theology can be proved by a
-metaphysical demonstration, proceeding from which, as a basis, we
-prove Christianity and the Catholic Church by a moral
-demonstration which is reducible to principles of metaphysical
-certitude. Deny this, and conscience, or the moral sense, is a
-mere feeling, a sensible emotion, a habit induced by education, a
-subjective state, which is just as available in support of
-Buddhism or Mohammedanism as of Christianity. <i>The Mercersburg
-Review</i> is trying to sustain itself midway down the declivity
-of a slippery hill, afraid to descend where the mangled remains
-of Feuerbach lie bleaching in the sun, and unwilling to catch the
-rope which the Catholic Church throws to it, and ascend to the
-height from whence Luther, in his pride and folly, slid. Kant's
-miserable expedient of practical reason may suit those who are
-content with such an insecure position; but it will never satisfy
-those who look for true science, and certain, infallible faith.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>The Round Table</i>, in a notice which is, on the whole, very
-favorable and appreciative, complains that we have accused
-Calvinism of being a dualistic or Manichaean doctrine. We have
-not only affirmed, but proved that it is so. By Calvinism,
-however, we mean the strict, logical Calvinism of the rigid
-adherents of the system.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179">{179}</a></span>
-The moderated, modified system, which approaches more nearly to
-the doctrine of the most rigorous Catholic school, we do not wish
-to censure too severely. Neither do we charge formal dualism, or
-a formal denial of the pure, unmixed goodness of God even upon
-the strictest Calvinists. What we affirm is, that, together with
-their doctrine respecting God, which is orthodox, they hold
-another doctrine respecting the acts of God toward his creatures,
-which is logically incompatible with the former, and logically
-demands the affirmation of an evil and malignant principle
-equally self-existent, necessary, and eternal with the principle
-of good, and thus leads to the doctrine of dualism in being. Many
-orthodox Protestants have spoken against Calvinism much more
-severely than we have done; and, in fact, while we cannot too
-strongly reprobate its logical consequences, we always intend to
-distinguish between them and the true, interior belief which
-exists in the minds of many Calvinists, excellent persons, and
-really nearer to the church, in their doctrine, as practically
-apprehended, than they are aware of.
-</p>
-<p>
-Our <i>Independent</i> critic is displeased with the Latin
-quotations from scholastic theology which we have somewhat freely
-employed, and compliments us, as he apparently supposes, by
-suggesting that this violation of good taste is to be ascribed,
-not to any lack of judgment on our part, but to the fault of our
-position. It is somewhat amusing to notice the patronizing air
-which this well-meaning gentleman assumes, and the evident
-complacency with which, from the height of his little, recently
-constructed eminence, he looks down with a smile of pitying
-forbearance upon our unfortunate "position." We will consent to
-waive, once for all, all claims of a personal nature to any
-consideration which is not derived from our position as a
-Catholic and a humble disciple of the scholastic theology. That
-theology is the glory and the boast of Christendom and of the
-human intellect. We are firmly convinced that there is no true
-wisdom, science, illumination, or progress to be found, except in
-following the broad path which scholastic theology has explored
-and beaten. Although our nice critic&mdash;who seems to have more
-admiration for the effeminate classicism of Bembo and the age of
-Leo X. than the masculine <i>verve</i> of St. Thomas&mdash;may call
-the scientific terminology of the schoolmen "bad Latin," we shall
-venture to retain a totally different opinion. It is unequalled
-and unapproachable for precision, clearness, and vigor. We have
-employed it because our own judgment and taste have dictated to
-us the propriety of doing so. We have not been led by servile
-adhesion to custom, or the affectation of making a display, but
-by the desire of making our meaning more clear and evident to
-theological readers, especially those whose native language is
-not English, and of introducing into our English theological
-literature those definite and precise modes of reasoning which
-belong to these great schoolmen. We can easily understand the
-aversion of our opponents to the schoolmen, in which they are
-only following after their predecessor, Martin Bucer, who said,
-albeit in Latin, <i>Tolle Thomam et delebo Ecclesiam Romanam</i>,
-"Take away Thomas, and I will destroy the Roman Church." To the
-personal remarks of the critic in regard to the author and the
-history of his religious opinions we give a simple
-<i>transeat</i>, and pass to what semblance of argument there is
-in rejoinder to the thesis defended in the <i>Problems of the
-Age</i>.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180">{180}</a></span>
-<p>
-The critic says that the same process of logic which the author
-employs against his opponents would destroy his own statements.
-This is a mere assertion, without a shadow of proof, and we meet
-it with a simple denial. It is, moreover, a piece of triviality
-with which we have no patience. It is the language of the most
-wretched and shallow scepticism, conceived in the very spirit of
-the question of Pontius Pilate to our Lord, "What is truth?" We
-have been engaged for thirty years in the study of philosophy and
-theology, and have carefully examined and weighed the matters we
-have undertaken to discuss. The substance of the doctrine we have
-presented is that in which the greatest minds of all ages have
-been agreed; and it has been proved and defended against every
-assault in a manner so triumphant that its antagonists have
-nothing to say, but to deny the first principles of logic, the
-possibility of science, the certainty of faith. There are,
-undoubtedly, certain minor points which are open to question and
-difference of opinion. But, as to our main thesis, that the
-Catholic dogmas are not contradictory to anything which is known
-or demonstrable by human science, we defy all opponents to refute
-it.
-</p>
-<p>
-By another subterfuge, equally miserable, our critic shakes off
-all responsibility of even noticing the serious, calm, and
-well-motived statements which we have made respecting Catholic
-doctrines. We hold, he says, one half of our doctrines as
-prescribed by authority, under pain of excommunication and
-damnation; and the other half, under an obligation to renounce
-them at a moment's warning, from the same authority; therefore,
-no attention is to be paid to our arguments. This is one of the
-most remarkable and most discreditable statements we remember
-ever to have come across in a writer professing himself an
-orthodox Christian. Does this inconsiderate writer see to what a
-dilemma he has reduced himself? Either he must admit that Jesus
-Christ, the apostles, the Bible, teach him with authority, and
-plainly and unequivocally, certain doctrines which he is bound to
-believe, under penalty of being cast out from the communion of
-true believers, and incurring eternal damnation; or he must deny
-it. In the first case, he must retract his words, or give the
-full benefit of them to the rationalist and the infidel, against
-himself. In the second case, he must lay aside his mask, and step
-forth with the discovered lineaments of an open unbeliever. We
-receive the dogmas of faith proposed by the church because they
-are revealed by Jesus Christ through his Holy Spirit, who is
-indwelling in the body of the church. We cannot revoke these
-dogmas into an examination or discussion of doubt, any more than
-we can doubt our own existence, or the first principle of
-reasoning. Nevertheless, as we can argue against a person who
-doubts these first principles, or give proofs and evidences to an
-ignorant man of facts or truths whose certainty is known to us;
-so we can give proofs of dogmas of faith which we are not
-permitted to doubt for an instant to one who does not believe
-these dogmas, or understand the motives upon which their
-credibility is established. It is unlawful to doubt the being and
-perfections of God, the immortality of the soul, the truth of
-revelation. Yet we may examine thoroughly all these topics to
-find new and confirmatory proof and answers to objections. One
-who is in doubt or ignorance may examine and weigh evidences in
-order to ascertain the truth, and does not sin by keeping his
-judgment in suspense until it obtains the data sufficient to make
-a decision reasonable and obligatory.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181">{181}</a></span>
-In arguing with such a person, it is necessary to descend to his
-level, and reason from the premises which his intellect admits.
-In like manner, when it is a question of the Trinity, the
-Incarnation, the divinity of Jesus Christ, the canonicity and
-inspiration of the Scriptures, and all other Catholic dogmas;
-although a Catholic may not doubt any one of these, and would act
-unreasonably if he did, since he has the same certainty of their
-truth that he has of his own existence or the being of God; yet
-he may examine the evidences which are confirmatory of his faith
-for his own satisfaction, and reason with an unbeliever in order
-to convince him of the truth. The subterfuge by which our critic
-and some other writers, especially one in <i>The Churchman</i>,
-attempt to evade the inevitable deductions of Catholic logic,
-which they cannot meet and refute&mdash;namely, that we cannot, with
-consistency, argue about doctrines defined by infallible
-authority&mdash;is the shallowest of all the artifices of sophistry.
-When the Son of God appeared on the earth in human nature, and in
-form and fashion as a man, claiming infallible authority, and
-demanding unreserved obedience, it was necessary for him to give
-evidence of his divine mission. A Jew, a Mohammedan, or a
-Buddhist cannot, in reason or conscience, believe in Jesus Christ
-until this evidence has been proposed to him. When it is
-sufficiently proposed, he is bound to believe; and, once becoming
-aware that Jesus is the Son of God, he is bound to believe all
-that he has revealed, simply upon his word. But, supposing he has
-been erroneously informed that the teaching of Jesus Christ
-contains certain doctrines or statements of fact which are in
-contradiction to what seems to him to be right reason or certain
-knowledge, it is unquestionably both prudent and charitable to
-correct his mistakes upon this point, and thus remove the
-obstacles to belief from his mind. Precisely so in regard to the
-Catholic Church. The demand which she makes of submission to her
-infallible authority, as the witness and teacher established by
-Jesus Christ, is accompanied by evidence. It is upon this
-evidence we lay the greatest stress; and in virtue of this it is
-that we present the Catholic doctrines as certain truths which
-every one is bound to believe. Undoubtedly, the infallibility of
-the church once established, it is the duty of every one to
-believe the doctrines she proposes, putting aside all
-difficulties and objections which may exist in his own imperfect,
-limited understanding. Yet, if these difficulties and objections
-do not lie in the very mysteriousness, vastness, and elevation of
-the object of faith itself, but in merely subjective
-misapprehensions, it is right to attempt to remove them, and to
-make the exercise of faith easier to the inquirer. Moreover,
-although it is sufficient to prove the infallibility of the
-church, and then, from this infallibility, to deduce, as a
-necessary consequence, the truth of all Catholic teaching; it
-does not follow that each separate portion of this teaching
-cannot be proved by other and independent lines of argument. The
-divine legation of Moses is sufficiently proved by the authority
-of Christ; but it can be proved apart from that authority. So,
-the Trinity, the real presence, baptismal regeneration, or
-purgatory, are sufficiently and infallibly proved from the
-judgment of the church; but they may be also proved from
-Scripture, from tradition, and, in a negative way, from reason.
-In the <i>Problems of the Age</i> our principal intention has
-been to clear away difficulties and misapprehensions from the
-object of faith, in order that candid inquirers might not be
-obliged to assume any greater burden upon their minds than the
-weight of that yoke of faith which the Lord himself imposes.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182">{182}</a></span>
-In doing this, we have endeavored not only to clear the dogmas of
-faith from the perversions of heretical doctrines, but also to
-distinguish them from theological opinions, which rest only on
-human authority, and are open to discussion. We have also thought
-it best, not merely to mark off doctrines of faith, and leave
-them in their naked simplicity, free from that theological
-envelope which is sometimes confounded with their substance; but
-also to give them that dress which, in our opinion, is best
-fitted to set off their native grace and beauty. We have not
-simply expressed the definitions of the church, discriminating
-from them the opinion of this and that school, and thus barely
-indicating what must be, and what need not be believed, in order
-to be a Catholic. We know the wants of the class of minds we are
-dealing with. They feel the need of some general view which shall
-give them a <i>coup a'oeil</i> of the theological landscape, and
-enable them to embrace the details and single objects contained
-in it in one harmonious whole. They have had so much sophistical
-reasoning and false philosophy, as well as bad and repulsive
-theology, dinned into their ears and minds that they cannot be
-satisfied without some better system as a substitute. We were
-obliged, therefore, not only to point out that certain
-opinions&mdash;generally repugnant to those who have been sickened by
-imbibing the Calvinistic and Lutheran poison&mdash;are not obligatory
-on the conscience of any Catholic, but also to present the
-opinions of another school more remote from Protestant orthodoxy,
-and less repugnant to those who are called liberal Christians.
-Our critic seems to imagine that, in doing this, we are merely
-playing an adroit game in which all kinds of theological or
-philosophical opinions are used as counters, without reference to
-truth, and merely with the view of winning as many converts as
-possible, by any show of plausible argument. At any moment, he
-says, we are ready to throw away the whole, if commanded to do so
-by authority. Once caught, those who have been drawn into the
-church by an artifice will have their minds tutored in a far
-different way, and be obliged to keep themselves ready to accept
-the very contrary of that which we assured them was sound,
-orthodox doctrine, at the arbitrary will of the ecclesiastical
-authority. Until that authority defines precisely what the sound
-Catholic doctrine is, we can have no settled, well-grounded
-opinion; but only conjecture and hypothesis. Let the absurdity of
-any of these hypotheses be shown by some Protestant
-controversialist, and the plea is ready that the church is not
-responsible for private opinions. Yet we have been artful and
-audacious enough to put forth a network of such hypotheses as
-Catholic doctrine when they are not Catholic doctrine, and are
-directly controverted by other Catholic writers. In an article
-which appeared lately in <i>Putnam's Monthly</i>, publicly
-ascribed to the same gentleman who is the avowed author of the
-criticism we are noticing, there is a general charge made upon
-"Americo-Roman preachers," of presenting a "plausible
-pseudo-Catholicity" quite different from the genuine Italian and
-Irish article. <i>The Churchman</i>, not long ago, made a similar
-statement which, if not mendacious, is supremely foolish and
-ignorant, respecting F. Hyacinthe, and certain other devoted
-Catholics in France.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183">{183}</a></span>
-<p>
-The whole is a tissue of cobwebs, which a stroke of the pen can
-sweep away. The Holy See is not accustomed to condemn suddenly
-and by the wholesale the probable opinions of grave and learned
-theologians, much less the doctrines of great and
-long-established schools. In the <i>Problems of the Age</i>, we
-have been careful to follow in the wake of theologians of
-established repute, and not to lay down propositions whose
-tenability is doubtful or suspected. It is possible that some
-definitions or decrees may be made hereafter which may require us
-to modify some of our opinions in theology or philosophy, and we
-shall undoubtedly submit at once to any such decisions. But there
-is no probability that we shall ever be called upon to change
-radically and essentially that system of theology which we have
-derived from the best and most esteemed Catholic authors. There
-is certainly no reason to think that the tenets distinguishing
-the Dominican from the Augustinian school will ever be condemned
-in a mass. Those which distinguish the Jesuit school from either
-or both of these have been through a severe ordeal of accusation
-and trial long ago, and have come out unscathed. The same is true
-of the doctrines of Cardinal Sfondrati. Suarez, St. Alphonsus,
-Perrone, and Archbishop Kenrick are certainly respectable
-authority, and a good guarantee of the orthodoxy of opinions
-sustained by their judgment. Perrone, whom we have followed more
-closely than any other author in treating of the most delicate
-and difficult questions, has taught and published his theology at
-Rome. It has passed through thirty seven editions, and is more
-popular as a text-book than any other. He is a consultor of the
-Sacred Congregations of the Council and the Index, Prefect of
-Studies in the Roman College, and, together with Fathers Schrader
-and Franzlin, eminent theologians of the same Jesuit school, a
-member of the Commission of Dogmatic Theology, which is preparing
-the points for decision in the coming Council of the Vatican. The
-doctrines advanced in the <i>Problems of the Age</i> in
-opposition to Calvinism, in accordance with the theological
-exposition of Perrone, cannot, therefore, be qualified as
-peculiar or curious opinions of the author, as pseudo-Catholic or
-Americo-Roman theories, or as liable to any theological censure
-of unsoundness.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nevertheless, we have not, as the critic asserts, set forth these
-or other opinions indiscriminately, and in so far as they vary
-from the opinions of other approved Catholic authors, as being
-exclusively the Catholic doctrine. We have used extreme care and
-conscientiousness in this respect, although our critic is
-incapable of appreciating it, from his lack of all thorough
-knowledge of the controversy he has unadvisedly meddled with. We
-do not qualify as Catholic doctrine, in a strict sense, anything
-which is not <i>de fide obligante</i>, or admitted by the
-generality of theologians, without opposition from any
-respectable authority, as morally certain. We censure no really
-probable opinion as contrary to Catholic doctrine, and are
-disposed to allow the utmost latitude of movement to every
-individual mind competent to reason on theological subjects,
-between the opposite extremes condemned by the church. It does
-not follow from this, however, that our doctrine is mere
-hypothesis, and that we are forbidden or unable to come to any
-positive conclusions beyond the formal definitions of the church.
-The substance and essential constituents of the doctrine are
-certainly Catholic, and common to all schools.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184">{184}</a></span>
-The Council of Trent condemned the heresies of Calvin and Luther,
-and the Holy See, the whole church concurring, has condemned the
-heresies of Jansenius and Baius. We know, also, what was the
-theology of the men who framed and enacted the decrees condemning
-those errors, or affirming the opposite truths, what was the
-spirit animating the church at that time, and continuing in it
-until the present; and we have in the episcopate, but especially
-in the Holy See, the living, authentic teacher and interpreter of
-the doctrine contained in the written decrees. There is,
-therefore, a solid and common basis upon which all Catholics
-stand, and upon which it is possible and allowable to construct
-theological theories or systems. Learning, logic, the intuitive
-power of genius, and the special gifts imparted by the Holy
-Spirit to certain favored men, have their full scope in carrying
-on this work. Through their activity, conclusions, deductions,
-expositions, elucidations, may be attained, which have a value
-varying all the way from plausible conjecture and hypothesis up
-through the different degrees of probability, to moral certainty.
-For ourselves, we have always studied to find in the most
-approved authors those opinions which approach as nearly as
-possible to moral certainty; or, in default of such, those which
-are admitted to be probable, and to our mind appear intrinsically
-more probable than their opposites. We write and speak,
-therefore, not with an economy, or as presenting opinions likely
-to captivate our readers, but with an interior conviction, in
-accordance with that which we believe to be really the revealed
-and rational truth; or else we indicate that we are speaking
-under a reserve of doubt and suspended judgment. As for the
-insinuation that we are concerned in any artful scheme for
-palming off a plausible pseudo-Catholicity in lieu of the
-Catholicity of the Pope, the Roman Church, and of the faithful
-people of Ireland, we repudiate it as false, groundless, and
-injurious. We hold unreservedly to the Pope and all his doctrinal
-decisions; to the genuine, thorough, uncompromising Catholicity
-of Rome and the universal church; to the faith for which the
-martyred people of Ireland have dared and suffered all. Nothing
-could be more opposed to that astuteness for which Catholic
-ecclesiastics generally obtain extensive credit, than to attempt
-such a foolish scheme in this country and age of the world as
-some persons attribute to us for the purpose of nullifying the
-effect of our influence and arguments upon the minds of candid
-inquirers after truth. For what purpose or end could we desire to
-propagate the Catholic religion in this country, unless we are
-convinced that it is the only true religion established by Jesus
-Christ, and necessary to the salvation of the human race? With
-this conviction, it would be the most supreme folly to preach any
-other doctrine but that genuine and sound Catholic doctrine which
-is sanctioned by the supreme authority in the church, and which
-we desire to propagate. Individuals may, no doubt, err, even with
-good intentions, in the attempt to discriminate between the
-permanent and the variable, the essential and the accidental, the
-universal and the local elements in Catholicity; and in the
-effort to adjust the relations between the doctrine and
-institutions of the church and new conditions of human science,
-or political and social order. But it is impossible for any
-individual or clique either to master or resist the general
-Catholic sentiment, and thus to cause the acceptance of any form
-of pseudo or neo-Catholicism as genuine Catholicity.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185">{185}</a></span>
-Moreover, there is the vigilant eye and strong arm of
-ecclesiastical authority ready every moment to detect and
-restrain the aberrations of private judgment, and to condemn all
-opinions or schemes which cannot be tolerated without endangering
-either doctrine or discipline. The voice of the Holy Father is
-heard throughout the world, and the voice of the whole Catholic
-Church will reverberate to the uttermost parts of the earth from
-the approaching Ecumenical Council. All intelligent persons, more
-especially all inquisitive, shrewd, and cool-headed Americans,
-have the means of knowing what genuine Catholic doctrine is.
-Whoever should attempt to set forth a dilution of Catholicity
-with Grecism, Anglicanism, rationalism, or any other kind of
-individualism, as a lure to non-catholics, would, therefore,
-simply gain nothing, unless a little unenviable notoriety should
-seem to his vanity a gain worth purchasing by the betrayal of his
-trust. The people of this country want the genuine Catholicity,
-or nothing. They will not be deluded a second time by a
-counterfeit, and become followers of a man, a party, or a sect.
-Nor do we wish to deceive them. We desire to set before them the
-doctrine and law of the Catholic Church in their purity and
-integrity, that they may have the opportunity of embracing them
-for their temporal and eternal salvation. We have had this end in
-view in writing and publishing the <i>Problems of the Age;</i>
-and, knowing well the delicacy and difficulty of the task, we
-have spared no pains to study the decisions of councils and the
-Holy See, to compare and weigh the statements of the most
-approved theologians, and to make no explanations which we were
-not satisfied are tenable, according to the received criterion of
-orthodoxy. We do not desire, however, or exact that any of our
-statements should be taken upon trust by any one. We have written
-for thinking and educated persons, who have need of light upon
-certain dark points of Christian doctrine; who are in earnest,
-and willing to take the time and trouble necessary for learning
-the truth. Such persons, if they read only English, will find all
-that is requisite, in addition to the citations made in the
-<i>Problems of the Age</i>, in <i>Möhler's Symbolism</i>.
-Scholars and theologians may satisfy themselves more fully by the
-aid of the collection of dogmatic and doctrinal decrees contained
-in Denziger's <i>Enchiridion</i>, and of the theologies of
-Billuart, Perrone, and Kenrick, the first of whom is a strict
-Thomist, the second a Jesuit, and the third of no particular
-school. In the exposition of the more antique and technically
-Augustinian tenets, the works of Berti, Estius, Antoine, Cardinal
-Noris, and Cardinal Gotti can be consulted. There are many other
-books relating to the Jansenist controversy, in Latin, French,
-and English, from which the fullest information can be obtained
-in regard to the history of the desperate struggle which that
-pseudo-Augustinian heresy&mdash;so nearly allied to the more moderate
-Calvinism and to one form of Anglicanism&mdash;made to gain a foothold
-in the church, and its thorough and complete discomfiture by the
-learning and logic of the great Thomist and Jesuit theologians,
-and the authority of the Holy See.
-</p>
-<p>
-There remains but one more point to be noticed, closely connected
-with the topic just now discussed, the charge of Pelagianism made
-by our critic against our own doctrines, and of semi-Pelagianism
-made by <i>The Mercersburg Review</i>, against the same, which
-the latter does not distinguish from the doctrine of the Roman
-Church.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186">{186}</a></span>
-The learned Professor Emerson, of Andover, long since called the
-attention of his co-religionists to the fact that the designation
-of Pelagian is used in this country very much at random, and by
-persons who have no accurate notion of the tenets of Pelagius.
-Calvinism, Jansenism, and Baianism are heresies on one side of
-the line; Pelagianism and semi-Pelagianism on the opposite. The
-Catholic doctrine is the truth which they all deny or pervert,
-exaggerate or diminish, by their false perspective. Therefore,
-each of them accuses the Catholic doctrine of the error opposite
-to its own error. This is no new thing, but was long ago
-complained of by St. Athanasius and St. Hilary. The Arians
-accused the Catholics of being Sabellians, and the Sabellians
-accused them of being Arians or Arianizers. We uphold both nature
-and grace, against Calvinists and Pelagians, therefore we are by
-turns accused of denying both. In the present instance, we are
-accused of denying or diminishing grace. The accusation is
-foolish, and shows a very slight knowledge of theology in those
-who make it. The Pelagian heresy asserts that human nature is
-capable of attaining the beatitude which the holy angels and
-saints possess with Jesus Christ in God, by its own intrinsic
-power, and is in the same state now as that in which Adam was
-originally constituted. The contrary doctrine is so clearly
-stated and so fully developed in the <i>Problems of the Age</i>,
-that it suffices to refer the reader to its pages. The
-semi-Pelagian heresy asserts that human nature is capable of the
-beginning of faith by its own efforts, and also of meriting grace
-by a merit of congruity. This heresy is unequivocally condemned
-by the church, and rejected by every school and every theologian.
-There is not a trace of it in a single line we have written.
-</p>
-<p>
-This leads us to notice a misapprehension into which the editor
-of <i>The Religious Magazine</i> of Boston has fallen. This
-Unitarian periodical is one which we esteem very much, on account
-of its excellent and truly devout spirit; and its contributors
-belong to a class of liberal Christians whose tendencies inspire
-us with much hope. It is with pleasure, therefore, that we
-recognize the candid and amicable tone of the notice which it has
-given of that which we have written especially for those whose
-intellectual direction is in the line which it follows. Our
-Unitarian critic has, however, made the great mistake of
-supposing that we use an orthodox phraseology, without any ideas
-behind it different from those of liberal Christians or
-rationalists. He says, "Setting aside what we cannot help calling
-theological technicalities, his account of man's moral being
-accords almost entirely with that which our liberal Christianity
-would give." "Perhaps the criticism upon our author must be, that
-he only retains in word and form much which he has abandoned in
-fact." The writer of this has been so accustomed to associate
-certain Catholic formulas and words with Calvinistic ideas, that
-they seem to him to mean nothing when dissociated from them. With
-him, the logical alternative of Calvinism is Unitarianism; and
-whoever agrees with him in rejecting the former, must
-substantially agree with him in holding the latter, however his
-language may vary from that which he himself uses. The reason of
-this is, that he fails to apprehend the Catholic idea of the
-supernatural order; that is, of the elevation of the rational
-creature to the immediate intuition of the divine essence in the
-beatific vision. We fear that in the last analysis it will be
-found that Unitarians have lost the distinct conception of the
-personality of God, and retain only a vague, confused notion of
-him as abstract being, and therefore not an object of direct
-vision.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187">{187}</a></span>
-Hence, they conceive of the highest contemplation and beatitude
-of man in the future life as a mere evolution and extension of
-our natural intelligence and spontaneity. Or, if they do conceive
-of heaven as a state in which the soul attains to a direct,
-personal fellowship and converse with God as a friend, a father,
-a supreme, intelligent, living, and loving Spirit, with whom the
-human spirit comes into immediate relations, like those of man
-with man on earth, they still believe that we are capable of
-attaining to this by the mere development of our natural powers,
-and by purely natural acts. There is, therefore, a great chasm
-between the Unitarian and the Catholic doctrine. The latter
-teaches, in the mystery of the Trinity, the only real and
-possible conception of personal subsistence in the divine
-essence, and sets forth the concrete, living, active,
-impersonated God, in whom is infinite, self-sufficing beatitude,
-without any necessity to create for the sake of completing the
-reason, and relations, and end of his being. This infinite
-beatitude consisting in the contemplation and love of his own
-essence which is actuated in the Trinity, presents the idea of a
-beatitude infinitely superior to and distinct from any felicity
-to which we have any natural aptitude or impulse. Its cause and
-object is the divine essence, directly and immediately beheld by
-an intellectual vision, of which our corporeal vision of material
-objects is but a faint shadow. The Catholic doctrine teaches that
-human nature must be elevated by a supernatural gratuitous grace
-in order to attain to this vision of God; that in Christ it is so
-elevated, even to a hypostatic union with the second person of
-the Trinity; that in Adam it was elevated to a lesser or adoptive
-filiation; that the angelic nature is also elevated to a similar
-state; and that men, under the present dispensation; are subjects
-of the same grace. The church teaches, moreover, that this grace
-is granted to men, since the fall, only through the merits of the
-sacrifice of Jesus Christ upon the cross; that without divine
-grace they cannot even begin a supernatural life; that no merely
-natural virtue deserves this grace; and that it is by faith,
-which is the gift of God; by the sacraments, and by good works
-done in the state of grace, in the communion of the Catholic
-Church, that we can alone obtain everlasting life with Christ.
-There is as much difference between this doctrine and any form of
-Unitarianism as there is between the sun and the earth; the
-star-studded sky and a neat, well-kept flower-garden. Catholics
-may differ from each other in regard to certain questions
-concerning the state of human nature when destitute of grace; but
-we are all agreed in regard to the need of grace for attaining
-the end we are bound to strive after, the conditions of obtaining
-this grace, and the obligation of complying with them, as well as
-in regard to the insufficiency of all media for bringing the
-human race even to its acme of temporal progress and felicity,
-except the institutions and teaching of the Catholic Church.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188">{188}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-             <h2>Heremore-Brandon;<br>
-      Or, The Fortunes Of A Newsboy.</h2>
-
-
-              <h3>Chapter IX.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-When they arrived at the Wiltshire depot, Dick and Mary were
-still undecided what step to take next; for neither of them
-favored the idea of asking at once for Dr. Heremore, feeling
-certain that the probabilities of his being alive would vanish
-the moment that such an inquiry was proposed.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a nice enough town, with fine breezes from the sea blowing
-through its streets, and a quaint look about the houses that made
-Dick, at least, feel as if they were in a foreign land. Dick and
-Mary stood on the depot platform together, undecided still.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Let us walk a little way up and see what we can see," Mary
-proposed.
-</p>
-<p>
-All that they found at first were a few lumber-wagons, a
-market-wagon, and now and then a group of boys playing; but
-finally they came upon a store, at the door of which several
-long-limbed countrymen were talking and chewing tobacco. I should
-have said "chewing and talking;" for the chewing was much more
-vigorously prosecuted than the talking. The presence of the
-strangers, one a lady in a plain but very stylish dress,
-attracted some attention; the men surveyed them in a leisurely,
-undazzled way, hardly making room for them to pass; for, having
-seen the sign POST-OFFICE in the window of this store, Dick and
-Mary concluded to enter and make inquiries. The afternoon sun
-streamed in upon the floor; the flies buzzed at the windows; and
-a man, with his hat on and his chair tilted back, was at the back
-of the store. He made no sign of changing his position when he
-first saw the strangers, not because Mr. Wilkes was any less well
-disposed toward "the ladies" than a city merchant would be, but
-because country people fancy it is more dignified to show
-indifference than politeness. In time, however, he tilted down
-his chair, freed his great mouth from its load of tobacco, and
-lounged up to the counter where Mary and Dick were standing.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I want to ask you a question," Dick answered to the
-storekleeper's look; "I suppose you know this town pretty well?"
-Dick was so afraid of the answer that he did not know how to put
-a direct question in regard to Dr. Heremore.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Rather," was the laconic reply, with no change of the speaker's
-countenance.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you know if a Dr. Heremore lived here once, twenty-five years
-or so ago?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I wasn't here in them days," for Mr. Wilkes was a young man who
-did not care to be old.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I did not suppose you did know, of your own knowledge; I thought
-you might have heard."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I suppose you have come to see him?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Or to hear of him," added Dick.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come from Boston or York, I suppose?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"From New York," answered Dick; "can you tell us who is likely to
-give us information?"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189">{189}</a></span>
-<p>
-"About the old doctor?" asked Mr. Wilkes in the same impassive
-manner.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," said Dick, rather impatiently.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I suppose you are relations o' his?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"We came to get information, not to give it," Dick replied in a
-quiet tone but inwardly vexed.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well," answered the storekeeper, not in the least abashed by
-this rebuke, "there's an old fellow lives up yonder, who knows
-pretty much everything's been done here for the last forty years;
-you'd better go to him; if any one knows, he does. Better not be
-too techy with <i>him</i>, I can tell you, if you want to find
-out anything; people as wants to take must give too, you know.
-That there road will take you straight to the house; white house,
-first on the left after you come to the meeting house."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank you; and the name?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, folks usually calls him 'The Governor' round here; you,
-being strangers, can call him what you please."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will he like a stranger's calling?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! tell him I sent you&mdash;Ben Wilkes&mdash;and you are all right."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank you!" Mary and Dick replied and turned away. "Ben Wilkes,"
-who, during this conversation, had seated himself on the counter,
-the better to show his ease in the strangers' society,
-which&mdash;Mary's especially&mdash;secretly impressed him very much,
-looked leisurely after them as they passed out of the store; then
-took out some fresh tobacco, and returned to his chair.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I don't like to go," said Mary, "it may be some joke upon us."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am afraid it is," answered Dick; "but, after all, what can
-happen that we need mind? If it is a gentleman to whom he has
-sent us, no matter how angry he is, he will see that you are a
-lady, and you will know how to explain it; if he has sent us to
-one who is not, I guess I shall be able to reply to him."
-</p>
-<p>
-Their walk was a very long one, but the meeting-house at last
-came in sight, and next it, though there was a goodly space
-between, was a large white house, irregular and rambling, with
-very nicely kept shrubbery around.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dick opened the gate with a hand that was a little nervous; but
-Mary whispered as their feet crunched the neatly bordered gravel
-walk to the low porch, "It is all right, I am sure; there is an
-old gentleman by the window."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will you be spokesman this time?" asked Dick.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mary nodded, and as the path was narrow and they could not well
-walk side by side, she was in front, so that naturally she would
-be the first to meet the old gentleman. A very fine old gentleman
-he was; a large man with a fine head, and, as his first words
-proved, a remarkably full, sweet voice. Seeing a lady coming
-toward him, he rose at once from his arm-chair, closed his book
-and advanced a step or two to greet her. Mary was one of those
-women toward whom courteous men are most courteous from the first
-glance; and this old gentleman, who moved toward her with all the
-grace and ease of a vigorous young man, was one of those men to
-whom gentle women are gentler, from the first, than to others.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Good-evening," he said, as Mary looked up to him with a smile at
-at once pleasant and deferential. "Good-evening," and as she did
-not say more than these words, the gentleman continued, "I will
-not say, 'Come in,' for it is too pleasant out of doors for that;
-but let me give you chairs."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190">{190}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Thank you, sir, we are strangers, but, we hope, not intruders,"
-she replied.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Certainly not," he answered. "It is a great pleasure for me to
-receive my old friends, and a pleasure to me to make new ones;
-and strangers, even if they remain strangers, bring with them
-great interest to the quiet lives of us old people." This he said
-in a tone not in the least formal, or as if "making a speech,"
-and still looking more at Mary than at her brother. They were not
-yet seated, and no expression but that of kindly courtesy crossed
-his face while looking into the sweet, gravely smiling one before
-him; his tones were hardly altered when he added, "I have waited
-for you these many long years, Mary; but I never doubted you
-would come at last. You must not play tricks upon my old heart;
-it has suffered too much to be able to sustain its part as it did
-in old times."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mary drew back a step, at this strange address, but she could not
-withdraw her eyes from his, as in tender, gentle tones he spoke
-the last words. Dick stood closer to her, but said nothing.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Indeed, you mistake," Mary said, with great earnestness; "I have
-told you the truth, I am really a stranger, although you have
-called me by my name, Mary. I am Mary Brandon, and this&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is your husband. Well, Mary, are you not my daughter? If you
-were changed, why come to see me? I heard you were changed. I
-spent four years in Paris and Rome, following up the trace given
-me in New York, and then I came back disappointed but not
-despairing. 'Mary will not die without sending for me or coming
-to me,' I said; and I have taken care always to be ready for you.
-I never thought you could come to me with coldness or
-indifference. I was prepared for almost anything&mdash;to see you poor
-and broken-hearted; no shame, no sin, no sorrow that would part
-us. I did not think to see you come back beautiful, happy, rich,"
-a glance at her dress, "and without a word of greeting."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Dr. Heremore?" said Dick, not because he believed or thought it,
-but because the words came forced by some inward power greater
-than his knowledge.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, Charles," answered the old gentleman, sadly but
-composedly, turning at this name, "can you explain it?"
-</p>
-<p>
-And then Mary understood it all. The years were nothing to him
-who had waited for his child's return, She was in his arms before
-Dick had recovered from his first bewilderment, now, by this act
-of hers, trebly increased.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah my child! if I spoke severely, it was only because I could
-not bear the waiting. I knew your jokes of old, darling; but when
-one has waited so long for the dear face one loves, the last
-moments seem longer than all the years. I will ask no questions.
-I see you two are together, and it is all right. You can tell me
-all at your leisure. Now, Mary, I must kill the fatted calf. Even
-though you and Charles have not returned as prodigals," he added
-as if he would not, even in play, risk hurting them.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not yet, please," said Mary. "Let us have it all to ourselves
-for a few minutes." And they seated themselves on the sunny
-porch, the old gentleman's delight now beginning to show itself
-in the nervous way he moved his hands, and his disjointed
-sentences.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191">{191}</a></span>
-Mary took off her hat at once, and threw it, with rather more of
-gayety than was quite natural to her, upon one of the short
-branches, looking like pegs, which had been left in the pillars
-of the porch.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You haven't forgotten the old ways&mdash;eh, Mary?" Dr. Heremore
-asked, as he saw the movement. "I remember well how proud you
-were the day you first found you could reach that very peg, and
-you are as much a child as you were that day, is she not,
-Charles?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Pretty nearly," answered Dick, who could not fulfil his part
-with Mary's readiness.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How deliciously fresh everything looks!" exclaimed Mary.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You should have seen it in June. I never saw the roses thicker.
-O pet, how I did wish for you, then! The time of roses was always
-your time."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And I love them as much as ever!" exclaimed Mary, telling the
-truth of herself. "Next year, if I am alive, I will be here with
-them; we will have jolly times looking after them. I have learned
-a great deal about flowers lately, but I shall never love roses
-like yours." This indeed, Mary felt to be true.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Flora has had to be replaced," said her grandfather observing
-her eyes resting on a statue in the garden in front. "I will show
-you the alterations I have made, and a few are improvements. But
-you must have something to eat now. I cannot let you go a minute
-longer. You came up by the boat, I presume?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, and had a hearty dinner," Mary answered, having a dread of
-a servant's entering, and getting things all wrong again, "To eat
-now will only spoil our appetite for tea, and I want you to see
-what an appetite I have."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Perhaps you are too tired to go around the garden?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Tired! No, indeed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am afraid it will not interest you much, Charles," the old
-gentleman said to Dick. "You never did care much about the little
-place."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! I assure you, I would be delighted to see it all," Dick
-answered, eagerly; but Mary had noticed the constraint in her
-grandfather's voice whenever he addressed the supposed Charles,
-and said quickly:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! we don't want you, you don't know a rose from a sunflower;
-pick up a book and read till we come back."
-</p>
-<p>
-"This way, dear; have you forgotten?" Dr. Heremore said, looking
-at her in a perplexed manner as naturally enough she turned away
-from the house. "This way, dear, you lose the whole effect if you
-go around. Come through the house. There, dear old Mary," he
-added, smilingly handing her a glass of wine which he poured out
-from a decanter on the sideboard in the dining room. "Drink to
-'The Elms' and no more jokes upon old hearts."
-</p>
-<p>
-"To our happy meeting and no more parting," added Mary, drinking
-her wine with him. He poured out a glass for Dick, or Charles, as
-he thought him, and, rather formally, carried it to him It was
-very clear that "Charles" was no favorite.
-</p>
-<p>
-All through the trim garden, and then through the whole house,
-Mary followed her grandfather, her heart, as it may be believed,
-full of love for the tender father of her lost mother. She stood
-in the room which that mother had occupied, and could not speak a
-word as she gazed reverently around. It was a thorough New
-England bedroom&mdash;a high mahogany bedstead, a long narrow
-looking-glass with a landscape painted on the upper part, in a
-gilt frame, a great chintz-covered arm-chair by the bed, a round
-mahogany table, with a red cover and a Bible, a stiff,
-long-legged washstand in the corner, a prim chest of drawers
-under the looking-glass between the windows, composed the
-furniture of the room; a badly painted picture of a young girl in
-the dress of a shepherdess, and a pair of vases on the mantel,
-were the only ornaments; a crimson carpet and white
-window-curtains were plainly of a later date than the furniture.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192">{192}</a></span>
-<p>
-"I have had to alter some things," said Dr. Heremore, as they
-came out of the room, "but I got them as much like the old ones
-as I could, that you might feel at home here. Your baggage should
-be here by this time, should it not? How did you send it?" "We
-left it at the station," answered Mary. "You know we were not
-sure&mdash;not certain sure that we should find you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I suppose not, I suppose not. These have been long years, Mary,
-but they have not changed us, after all. But I must send for your
-trunks. I suppose Charles has the checks."
-</p>
-<p>
-"We brought but very little with us," Mary said, considerably
-embarrassed, and, seeing the change in his countenance, she
-hastened to add, "But now that it is all right and we have found
-the way, we will stay with you until you turn us out; at least, I
-will."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then you will send for more things, and how about the children?"
-with the same perplexed look at her. Mary knew not what to say.
-Was it not better to tell him the real truth at once? How could
-she go on with this deception, as innocent as any deception can
-be, and yet how break down his joy in its very midst? Silently
-she stood beside him, at a hall window, looking upon the prospect
-he had pointed out to her, considering what answer to make him.
-He, too, was silent; for a long time the two stood there, and
-then it was the doctor who spoke first.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mary, your children must be men and women now. I had forgotten
-how long it was; but I remember you were here last the year the
-meeting-house over there was put up, and I just was thinking that
-was over twenty years ago. Richard was a few months old, then.
-Mary, don't deceive me. Tell me the truth."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mary turned sadly toward him, and laid her hands in his.
-</p>
-<p>
-"<i>Grandpapa</i>, I will," was all she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a great blow to him, but something had been hovering
-confusedly before his mind ever since they came out together, and
-now it was clear. He turned abruptly away from her at the first
-shock, then came to her more kindly than ever. "Forgive me,
-dear," he apologized with mournful courtesy; "I did not mean to
-be rude, but it is a great shock. You are very like her, very
-like her, but I should have known at once that those years could
-not have left her a girl like you. I will not ask more&mdash;your
-mother&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"My <i>father</i> is living," Mary said, with tears streaming
-down her face, as he stopped, "and that is my brother
-down-stairs."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is he your only brother? have you sisters?" he asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-"We are your only grandchildren," she answered; and he understood
-that his child was dead, and another woman had filled her place.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are a noble girl," he said, with lingering tenderness in
-every word. "We will go down now. I will greet Richard, and then,
-dear, you will let me be alone for a little while. I shall have
-to send for your things, you know."
-</p>
-<p>
-"If it is any trouble&mdash;" began Mary.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193">{193}</a></span>
-<p>
-"None, I will see about it at once."
-</p>
-<p>
-They went down, and he greeted Richard, then went away slowly,
-still begging them to excuse him for the inattention to them.
-Soon after, a barefooted boy of twelve or fourteen or so went
-whistling down the road past the house, staring at them as he
-went by; an hour after, the same boy returned with their bags;
-these were taken up-stairs by a thin, severe-looking, very
-neatly-dressed woman, who quickly and with only a word or two
-showed them their rooms, and told them that, as soon as they were
-dressed, tea would be ready.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mary dressed in her mother's room with a sense of that mother's
-spirit around her. She fortunately had brought a dress with her,
-so that she was able to make a slight change. Then slowly and
-with great reverence she went down the stairs, meeting Dick in
-the hall, to whom she whispered, "O Dick! how I love him; but I
-am afraid it will kill him; the purpose for which he has lived
-these twenty years is taken from him. Can we give him another?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It may be that you can," Dick replied, looking tenderly into her
-sweet face, all aglow with the bright soul-life which had been
-kindled so actively in the last hours. "If you can, Mary, try it;
-do not think of anything else; stay with him, do anything you
-think right and good for him; he deserves more from us than&mdash;"
-Dick hesitated, not willing to speak unkindly of Mr. Brandon, who
-certainly had been a father to Mary&mdash;"than any other."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I will try," Mary answered speaking quickly and in a low voice.
-"If it seems best that I should stay a little while, you will
-explain to papa? But perhaps, after all, it will be you who will
-be able to replace her best."
-</p>
-<p>
-"We shall see," Dick said, and then Dr. Heremore was seen coming
-toward them, with less lightness in his step than they had
-noticed before; otherwise there was but little change, except
-that his voice was more mournfully tender than at first.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is a long time since I saw that place filled," he said,
-arranging a chair for Mary before the tea-urn. "And it is very
-sweet to me to see your bright young face before me; a long time
-since I have had so strong an arm to help me," he added, as Dick
-eagerly offered him some little assistance, "and I am very
-grateful for it."
-</p>
-<p>
-There were no explanations that night; he talked to Dick and Mary
-as to very dear and honored guests, of everything likely to
-interest them, and was won by their eager attention to tell them
-many little things about his house and grounds, which were his
-evident pride and pleasure, all in the same subdued, courteous
-way that had attracted them from the first. There seemed, in the
-beginning, a far greater sympathy between Mary and him than he
-had with Dick, which was the reason, undoubtedly, why he devoted
-his attention more especially to his grandson, whose modest
-replies, given with a heightened color and an evident desire to
-please, were very winningly made.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have two noble grandchildren," he said to them as they stood
-up to say good-night. "My daughter, short as her life was, did
-not come into the world for a small purpose; she did not live for
-little good; she has sent me two to love and esteem, and to win
-some love from them, I trust&mdash;yes, I <i>believe</i>."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194">{194}</a></span>
-<p>
-The next day, he set apart a time and then there were full
-explanations from both sides. Dick's story we know already. Dr.
-Heremore's can be told in a few words. His daughter married, when
-very young and on a short acquaintance, a gentleman who was
-spending his summer holidays in the vicinity of Wiltshire, and,
-immediately upon her marriage, had gone to N&mdash;&mdash; to reside; they
-remained there until Richard was a month old, when his daughter
-made him a long&mdash;her last&mdash;visit; from there to New York, whence
-a letter or two was all that came for some little time; then one
-written evidently in great depression of spirits. Dr. Heremore,
-on receipt of this, went at once to New York to see her, only to
-hear that she had gone with her husband to Europe. A little
-further inquiry proved to his satisfaction that Mr. Brandon was
-in the South, and that his wife was not with him; his letters
-were unanswered, and his alarm was every day greater and more
-painful. At last, he followed a lady&mdash;described to be somewhat of
-his daughter's appearance, bearing the same name, who had joined
-a theatrical company, though of this last he was not aware for a
-long time&mdash;to Europe. As he had said before, he came back
-disappointed but not despairing, to hear of Mr. Brandon's
-death&mdash;the same false report, perhaps intentionally circulated,
-which his daughter had heard. Her letters to him, of which she
-spoke in her letter to Dick, were lost while he was away
-searching for her. He had not been rich, then; but coming home,
-he had resumed his practice, and lived patiently awaiting news of
-her, energetically laboring to secure a small fortune for her
-should she ever come to claim it. This little fortune he would
-divide at once, he said, between her two children; for "what," he
-argued with them, "what is the use of hoarding it to give to you
-later when, I trust, you will not need it half as much? A few
-hundreds in early youth are often worth as many thousands in
-after-years."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That will do for Dick," Mary conceded, "because it <i>would</i>
-be a great thing for him to have a little start just now; and
-besides, there's Somebody Else for <i>him</i> to think of; but I
-will take my share in staying here. You will not drive me away?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your father?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Papa would&mdash;it's a shabby thing to say&mdash;be very willing to have
-me away, in his present circumstances. He has been wishing and
-wishing for Fred and Joe constantly ever since they went; but for
-me&mdash;he thinks girls are a sort of nuisance, I know he does; and
-will be very grateful to you if you divide the burden with him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But if&mdash;just as I got used to loving you, there should be
-another Somebody Else besides Dick's? How about this out of
-civilization place, then?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mary grew very red indeed, but answered readily, "Oh! that's a
-long way off; and besides, he may not think this out of
-civilization, you know."
-</p>
-<p>
-So it was settled. One of the clerks who had been from early
-boyhood in Ames and Narden's store had been long intending to
-start out on his own account, and Dick was very sure that they
-could fulfill their olden dream of partnership, now that Dr.
-Heremore was willing to give them a start. Dick went down to New
-York the day after this conversation, and there was a long talk
-between the members of the firm, and the two clerks, which
-culminated in a dinner and the agreement that all was to go on as
-it had been going, until the first of May, when there would be a
-new bookseller's firm in the New York Directory, to wit, BARNES
-AND HEREMORE.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195">{195}</a></span>
-<p>
-After a brief conversation with Mr. Brandon, Dick hurried to
-Carlton, and was not long making his way to the shadowy lane. To
-her honor and glory be it said, Trot was the first to see him;
-and without waiting for a greeting, not even for the expected
-"dear 'ittle Titten," ran with all speed into the house, crying,
-"Thishter! Thishter! Mr. Dit ith toming!" at the top of her
-voice; and Rose, all blushing at being caught "just as she was,"
-had no time to utter a word before "Mr. Dit," was beside her.
-There was great rejoicing over Dick; the children pulled him in
-every direction, to show him some new thing he had not yet seen,
-until he began to tell the story of his adventures, when they
-stood around in perfect silence. Mrs. Alaine and Mrs. Stoffs
-wiped their eyes between their smiles and their exclamations of
-delight; old Carl once held his pipe in one hand and forgot to
-fill it for nearly a minute, so absorbed was he; but Rose alone
-did not say a word of congratulation when Dick's good fortune and
-his brightened future were announced. I even think she had a good
-cry about it, after a little talk with Dick by herself, that
-evening, so hard it is to leave one's home.
-</p>
-<p>
-"There's not a thing to wait for now," Dick had said, with
-beaming eyes; and poor Rose's ideas of "youth," and "time to get
-ready," and all that sort of remark, were put aside without the
-least consideration. "We will have a little house of our own,"
-Dick continued, "we will not go to boarding, as some people do;
-you are too good a housekeeper for <i>that</i>, I am sure; and as
-New York has no houses for young people of moderate means, we
-will have a home of our own near the city. Shall we not, Rose?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Dick was a very busy young man for a couple of months after this.
-One thing Dr. Heremore did that seemed hard, but not so very
-unnatural, and of which no one who has never felt a wrong to some
-one dearly loved should judge. He begged that he might never see
-Mr. Brandon, nor be asked to hold any communication with him. He
-gave Mary a certain sum of money, which he wished her to use for
-her father and step-brothers; but beyond that, he left Mr.
-Brandon to help himself.
-</p>
-<p>
-After attending to all his grandfather's requests and
-suggestions, Dick, as he had been invited to do, returned to
-Wiltshire to give an account of his management, and to take up
-some things for Mary's use. He was on his way to the boat when he
-suddenly started and exclaimed, "Mr. Irving!" for no less a
-person than his "Sir Launcelot" was standing beside him. Mr.
-Irving, not recognizing him, bowed slightly and passed on, and
-Dick began to be relieved that Mary was so far away; perhaps,
-after all, it was a great deal better.
-</p>
-<p>
-But another surprise was in store for Dick, who&mdash;an inexperienced
-traveller even yet, and always in advance of time&mdash;had gone on
-and waited long before the boat prepared to leave; for at the
-last moment a carriage drove rapidly to the pier, and a gentleman
-sprang from it in time to catch the boat. It was "Sir Launcelot."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mr. Heremore, I believe," he said to Dick, when they met
-somewhat later on the boat. "I called on Mr. Brandon to-day, just
-after you met me, to pay my respects to him on my return from
-Europe. I found him in a different business from that in which I
-had left him, and very reserved. I asked after the ladies of his
-family, who, he told me, were at your grandfather's and his
-father-in-law's, in Maine, adding that there was a long story,
-which I had better come to you to hear, if you had not already
-left. I have business in Maine, so followed you up."
-</p>
-<p>
-So they made acquaintance; and the new-found relationship with
-Mary was explained, as also the reverses Mr. Brandon had met
-with.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196">{196}</a></span>
-<p>
-"His wife dead, too, you tell me! How shocked he must have been
-at my questions of her! How like him not to give me a hint!"
-exclaimed Mr. Irving.
-</p>
-<p>
-The new friendship progressed well, as it often will between two
-gentlemen, one of whom is in love with the other's sister,
-although there was a wide difference between their characters.
-Mr. Irving was many years older than Dick, as his finished
-manners and his manly presence attested, without the aid of a few
-gray hairs on his temples, not visible, and half a dozen or so in
-his heavy moustache, very visible and adding much to his good
-looks, in the eyes of most of the ladies who saw him. It seemed
-as natural to Dick that this travelled man, so polished, so
-princely as he was, should be just the one to please his
-high-bred sister, and he captivated by her, as that he himself
-should belong to Rose and she to him. Consequently he did not put
-on any of the airs in which brothers, especially when they are
-very young, delight to appear before their sister's admirers.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dick had even tact enough, when they reached Dr. Heremore's house
-&mdash;for, of course, Mr. Irving's "business in Maine" did not
-interfere with his accompanying Dick to Wiltshire&mdash;to be, very
-busy with the carriage and trunks, while Mr. Irving opened the
-little gate, and announced himself to the young lady on the
-porch. When Dick, a few minutes after, greeted his sister, he had
-no need, though Mary's color did not come as readily as Rose's,
-to say with Sir Lavaine:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "For fear our people call you lily maid,
-   In earnest, let me bring your color back."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-I think that Dr. Heremore, though the very soul of courtesy,
-looked rather sadly upon Mr. Irving; but he was not long left in
-any uncertainty in regard to that gentleman's wishes; for the
-very next day his story was told; how he had known and loved Mary
-from her very earliest girlhood, but that he was afraid of his
-greater age, and, anxious that she should not be influenced by
-their long acquaintance and the advantages his ripened years had
-given him over admirers more suited to her in age, he had gone to
-Europe, but lacked the courage to remain half the time he had
-allotted, and now was back, and&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"And, ah! yes, I understand; I am to lose her," said her
-grandfather sadly. "I knew I could not keep her."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Giving her to me will not be losing her. We talked about it last
-night, and we are both delighted with this place; and as I am
-bound to no especial spot, (Mr. Irving was an author,) and she
-loves none half so much as this, we can well pitch our tent
-here."
-</p>
-<p>
-But when further acquaintance had enabled the man of "riper
-years" to take a place in Dr. Heremore's life which neither Mary
-nor Dick could fill, it was settled that the old house was large
-enough for the three; and as Mr. Irving was wealthy, healthy, and
-wise, the sun of Mary's happiness shone very brightly.
-</p>
-<p>
-There's nothing more for me to say except that Dick went down to
-Carlton still once again, and that in its church there is a
-little altar of the Blessed Virgin, whereon Rose had the
-unspeakable delight&mdash;so precious to every pious heart&mdash;of laying
-a beautiful veil&mdash;Mary's gift to her "sweet little
-sister"&mdash;which Trot looks critically at every Sunday, and may be
-a little oftener, and puzzles her small head wondering if its
-delicate texture&mdash;the veil's&mdash;will stand the wear and tear of the
-years that must pass before she can replace it with hers; which
-always makes uncle Carl laugh. And Rose has persuaded Mary to
-dedicate her own in the same way, and Mary has laughingly
-complied, a little shame-faced, too, at her own secret pleasure
-in doing it, at the same time half wondering "what will come of
-it." Rose does not wonder; she thinks she knows.
-</p>
-<p>
-As for Dick, there is every reason to believe that this coming
-Christmas there will be two or three glad hearts travelling
-around in company with two or three rough, ragged, shaggy boys;
-that he will carve his own Christmas turkey at his own, own
-table; and that there will be a <i>couleur de Rose</i> over all
-his future life.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197">{197}</a></span>
-<br>
-      <h2>Our Lady's Easter.</h2>
-<br>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-                   I.
-
-  She knelt, expectant, through the night:
-    For He had promised. In her face
-    The pure soul beaming, full of grace,
-  But sorrow-tranced&mdash;a frozen light.
-
-  But, ere her eastward lattice caught
-    The glimmer of the breaking day,
-    No more in that sweet garden lay
-  The buried picture of her thought.
-
-  The sealed stone shut a void, and lo!
-    The Mother and the Son had met!
-    For her a day should never set
-  Had burst upon the night of woe.
-
-  In sudden glory stood He there,
-    And gently raised her to his breast:
-    And on his heart, in perfect rest,
-  She poured her own&mdash;a voiceless prayer.
-
-  Enough for her that he has died,
-    And lives, to die again no more:
-    The foe despoiled, the combat o'er,
-  The Victor crowned and glorified.
-
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198">{198}</a></span>
-                   II.
-
-  What song of seraphim shall tell
-    My joy to-day, my blissful queen?
-    Yet truly not in vain, I ween,
-  Our earthly alleluias swell.
-
-  It is but just that we should thus
-    Our Jesus' triumph share with thee.
-    For us he died, to set us free.
-  Thou owest him risen, then, to us.
-
-  But thou, sweet Mother, grant us more
-    Than here to join the festive strain:
-    To hymn, but never know, our gain
-  Were ten times loss for once before.
-
-  Thy faithful children let us be.
-    Entreat thy Son, that he may give
-    The wisdom to our hearts to live
-  In his, the risen life, with thee.
-
-  For so, amid the onward years,
-    This feast shall bring us strength renewed;
-    To pass secure, o'er self subdued,
-  To Easter in the sinless spheres.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199">{199}</a></span>
-<br>
- <h2>Two Months In Spain During The Late Revolution.</h2>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-  September 9, 1868.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day, while they are yet celebrating the Nativity of the
-Blessed Virgin, we enter Spain, that mysterious world behind the
-Pyrenees, so different from all others, and of which we know so
-little! To-day is also the anniversary of my birthday into the
-Catholic Church, and now it is my birthday into Catholic Spain!
-"La tierra de Maria Santisima."
-</p>
-<p>
-Leaving Perpignan (in the Pyrénées Orientales) by diligence, we
-pass through a most tropical looking country, amidst hedges of
-aloe, and oleander, and pomegranates, (reminding one of Texas in
-the character of the soil, the productions, and even the houses;)
-we soon begin the ascent of the mountains; and, before it is
-quite dark, we are across the Pyrenees. By the light of a
-beautiful sunset we have some grand mountain views, and encounter
-a group of Spanish gypsies, dark, ragged, and dirty, but highly
-picturesque. All along these mountains are cork-trees of
-prodigious size, with black, twisted trunks, from which the bark
-has been stripped&mdash;their fantastic shapes taking the form of nuns
-or monks&mdash;great ghosts in the dim light. Perthus, on the other
-side the mountains, is the last French town; high above which
-towers the fortress of Bellegarde, built by Louis XIV. in 1679.
-Just outside this town we pass a granite pyramid, on which is
-written "Gallia." A fellow-passenger tells us we are on Spanish
-soil. All cry, "Viva España!" and we look out upon a
-solemn-looking soldier, who stands by a cantonnier, above which
-floats the red and yellow flag of Spain. La Junguera is the first
-Spanish town; and here is a rival fort to the towering French one
-so lately seen. Here our luggage is visited, and we have our
-first experience of Spanish courtesy. The gentlemen passengers
-all come to ask, "Will the ladies have fruit?" "Will they have
-wine?" And one of our party, wishing to give alms to a blind
-beggar, and asking change for a franc, one of the gentlemen gives
-her the money in coppers, and refuses to take the franc; which,
-it seems, is the Spanish custom.
-</p>
-<p>
-At Figueras we eat our first <i>Spanish supper</i>; no
-inconsiderable meal, if we may judge by this one. First came the
-inevitable soup, (<i>puchero;</i>) then, boiled beef; next in
-course, cabbage and turnips, eaten with oil and vinegar, and the
-yellow sweet-pepper which is the accompaniment to everything, or
-may be eaten alone, as salad. The third course was stewed beef;
-next, fried fish, (fish, in Spain, never comes before the third
-course;) and now, stewed mushrooms; but, as they are stewed in
-oil, (and that none of the sweetest,) we pass them by. After
-this, lobster; then cold chicken and partridge; and now the
-delicious fruits of the country, and the toasted almonds which
-are universal at every meal, and cheese. Coffee and chocolate
-terminate this repast, for which we pay three and a half francs,
-and after which one might reasonably be expected to travel all
-night.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200">{200}</a></span>
-<p>
-Gerona appeared with the early dawn; a curious old town of 14,000
-inhabitants, on the river Oña, and looking not unlike Rome with
-its yellow river, its tall houses, and balconies. Both this town
-and Figueras have made themselves memorable in wars and sieges.
-Indeed, what Spanish town has not its tale of heroism and brave
-defence during the French invasion of 1809-11? These towns were
-both starved into capitulation, after sieges which lasted seven
-or eight months, the women loading and serving the guns during
-the siege, and taking the places of their fallen husbands or
-lovers, like the "Maid of Saragossa." We were glad to leave the
-diligence for the railway which runs by the lovely Mediterranean
-coast, passing many pretty towns with ruins of old Moorish
-fortresses and castles on the hills beyond. In one of these
-towns, Avengo de Mar, the dock-yards are very famous, and a naval
-school was here established by Charles III.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mataro, a place of 16,000 people, seemed very busy and thriving.
-This, too, has its tale of siege and slaughter. The French have
-left behind them in Spain a legacy of hate. Of the ruins of a
-monastery near one of these towns a pretty story is told. Two
-Catalonian students passing by this beautiful site, one
-exclaimed, "What a charming situation this would be for a
-convent! When I am pope, I will build one here." "Then," said the
-other, "I will be a monk, and live in it." Years after, when the
-latter <i>had</i> become a monk, he was sent for to Rome, and
-being presented to the pope, (Nicholas V.,) recognized in him his
-old friend and companion, when in the act of receiving his
-blessing. The pope embraced him; reminded the monk of his
-promise; built the convent, in which, we presume, the latter
-lived and died. The beautiful convent was utterly destroyed in
-the civil wars of 1835, when the monks were all driven from
-Spain.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "The sacred taper-lights are gone,
-   Gray moss hath clad the altar stone,
-   The holy image is o'erthrown,
-     The bell hath ceased to toll.
-
-  "The long-ribbed aisles are burnt and shrunk,
-   The holy shrine to ruin sunk,
-   Departed is the pious monk;
-     God's blessing on his soul!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-  Barcelona, Province Of Catalonia.<br>
-    Hotel De Las Cuatro Naciones.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-September 10.
-</p>
-<p>
-How charming looks this gay, busy city, with its shady streets,
-beautiful gardens and fountains, the sea before it, the mountains
-behind, fortifications on every side, seemingly impregnable. Our
-hotel is on the "Rambla," a wide boulevard, like those of Paris,
-upon which most of the fine buildings are situated, and which is
-the principal promenade. In the evening, we go to one of the
-theatres, and hear a French opera beautifully sung.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Friday, 11.
-</p>
-<p>
-The books tell us that Barcelona was founded by Hamilcar, the
-Carthaginian, B.C. 237. Cesar Augustus raised it to a Roman
-colony. Ataulfo, the first king of the Goths, chose it for his
-court. In 713, it fell into the hands of the Moors, who were
-expelled by Charlemagne in 801. From this time, it belonged to
-the Duchy of Aquitaine, and was governed by counts, until Charles
-the Bold made it an independent kingdom, to reward Count Wilfred
-el Velloso, who had aided him against the Normans. Count Raymond
-Berenguer IV. united Catalonia with Arragon, by marrying the
-heiress of that kingdom, from which time it was the rival of
-Genoa and Venice. It has always been the centre of revolutionary
-movement, restlessly endeavoring to regain its independence. The
-Catalans are industrious, bold, and enterprising.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201">{201}</a></span>
-Indeed, so much do they surpass the people of other parts of
-Spain in activity and enterprise, that they are called the
-Spanish Yankees, and Barcelona is termed the Manchester of Spain.
-Manufactories of cotton and silk; the most famous laces of Spain;
-a most flourishing trade, as well as fine schools and public
-libraries, are to be found here. They boast that the first
-experiment with steam for navigation purposes was made in
-Barcelona, the inventor having displayed his steamboat before
-Charles V. and Philip II., in 1543. Charles, being occupied in
-foreign conquests, took little notice of this, and, through fear
-of explosion, the discovery was abandoned, and the secret died
-with the inventor.
-</p>
-<p>
-Barcelona has a very large French population. In the Calle
-Fernando, we see shops handsome as those of Paris. Already we
-find most tempting Spanish fans for a mere trifle; and at every
-turn the delicious chocolate is being made into cakes by
-machinery. There are many fine churches. The cathedral is a grand
-specimen of the Gothic Catalan of the thirteenth century&mdash;one of
-the most imposing churches we have seen in Europe. "Sober,
-elegant, harmonious, and simple," as some traveller describes it.
-The Moors converted the old cathedral of their Gothic
-predecessors into a mosque. James II., "el conquistador," one of
-the greatest of the Catalan heroes, commenced this in 1293. The
-cloisters are very interesting; have a pretty court, with
-orange-trees and flowers, and a curious old fountain of a knight
-on horseback; the water flowing from the knight's head, his toes,
-and from the tail and mouth of the horse. In the crypt is the
-body of St. Eulalia, the patron saint of Barcelona; removed from
-St. Maria del Mar, where it had been kept since the year 878.
-Before this shrine Francis I. heard mass, when a prisoner in
-Spain, after the battle of Pavia. In the choir, over each finely
-sculptured stall, is painted the shield of each of the knights of
-the Golden Fleece. Here was held a "chapter," or general
-assembly, presided over by Charles V., March 5th, 1519. Charles,
-then only king of Spain, occupied a throne on one side hung with
-damask and gold; opposite was the empty throne of Maximilian,
-first emperor of Germany, (his grandfather,) hung in black.
-Around the king were assembled Christian, King of Denmark;
-Sigismund, King of Poland; the Prince of Orange, the Dukes of
-Alba, Friaz, Cruz, and the flower of the nobility of Spain and
-Flanders.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are some curious old monuments in the church, and a
-crucifix called "Cristo de Lepanto," which was carried on the
-prow of the flagship of Don John, of Austria, in the battle of
-Lepanto. The figure&mdash;of life size&mdash;is all inclined to one side;
-and the faithful of that day assure us that the sacred image
-turned itself aside, to avoid the Moslem bullets which were aimed
-at it. Certain, it was never struck.
-</p>
-<p>
-While in the church, we see a funeral mass, which is peculiar in
-some of its ceremonies, and very solemn in the dim religious
-cathedral light, where every kneeling figure, with its black
-mantilla, seems to be a mourner. After the credo, little tapers
-are distributed, and, at a certain part of the mass, are lighted.
-The priest comes to the foot of the altar. Each person, bearing a
-lighted taper, goes forward in procession, the men on one side,
-the women on the other. Each one kisses the cross upon the stole
-of the priest, as if in submission to the will of God. The
-candles are extinguished, and deposited in a plate.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202">{202}</a></span>
-<p>
-Walking on the Rambla this evening, we hear a drum, and,
-following the crowd, witness the performance of a Spanish
-mountebank, whose sayings must have been very witty, to judge by
-the plaudits of the crowd. He had a learned dog, which so far
-surpassed all the dogs we had ever seen that I am persuaded he
-was cleverer than his master.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Saturday, September 12.
-</p>
-<p>
-A rainy day. But we take a long walk through the crooked, narrow
-streets; going into the Calle de la Plateria (the street of the
-jewellers) to see the curious long filagree earrings worn by the
-peasants. We are as much objects of curiosity to these people, as
-they are to us, (bonnets and parasols being rarely seen in
-Spain.) An old man, touched my blue veil, yesterday, asking,
-"Queste paese?" and when I told him we were "Americanos," he
-rejoined, "Me speak England; me like Americanos." Even the
-poorest people here are courteous and respectful; and their
-language seems to have borrowed so much that is flowery and
-poetic from their Arab progenitors, that it would seem
-exaggerated and insincere, were it not accompanied by a grave and
-earnest manner as well as gesticulation. We ask a beggar the way
-to a certain street. He accompanies us all the way, declines any
-remuneration, and at parting says, "Go, and may God go with you!"
-A policeman, seeing us endeavor to enter the Plaza Real, to look
-at the monument to the king, opens the gate, though the public
-are not admitted. We thank him for making an exception in our
-favor; and upon going out, he bids us "Adios," adding,' "May your
-beauty never be less." At the <i>table d'hote</i>, every Spaniard
-bows as we enter, and all rise when we leave the table. In the
-centre of the table is a pyramid of cigars and matches most
-fantastically arranged; and it is the custom for gentlemen to
-smoke at every meal! We visit St. Maria del Mar, a church
-considered by many to be superior to the cathedral,
-architecturally. It was built in 1329, on the site of a former
-church, erected to contain the body of St. Eulalia. The arched
-roof is of immense height; the main altar of black and yellow
-marble. The church is hung with many pictures by Spanish artists,
-and has the usual amount of stucco and gilding for which Spanish
-churches have been remarkable since the days of Columbus, when
-gold was so plentiful with them.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Sunday, 13th.
-</p>
-<p>
-We hear mass in the little Gothic church of St. Monica, hard by,
-and go afterward to the cathedral, which is even more impressive
-upon a second view. Several baptisms are going on, and the very
-babies are dressed in mantillas&mdash;the white mantillas worn by the
-lower classes, which are very pretty. White silk, trimmed with
-white lace, or of the lace alone; the silk, which is a long
-strip, is pinned to the hair on top of the head, and the lace
-falls over the face, or is folded back. Young ladies wear them of
-black lace, in the street or for visits; silk, for the churches;
-and these with the never-failing accompaniment of the fan, belong
-to all alike; rich and poor, old and young. The fan serves as
-parasol, and strange to say, that, with this alone to shelter
-them from the sun, these women should be so beautifully fair; and
-in Valencia they are famed for their white complexions! Surely
-the sun in Spain is kinder than in America, for freckles and
-sun-burn are never seen.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203">{203}</a></span>
-<p>
-The men wear a red or purple cap, which they call "gorro;" a sort
-of bag which hangs down behind, or at the side, or is more
-generally folded flat across the forehead; a red or purple sash,
-(<i>faja;</i>) a short jacket; sandals (<i>espardinya</i>) of
-hemp or straw, tied with strings. We drive through the streets,
-and find most of the shops closed, (Sunday;) and see through the
-open doors that every house, even the very poorest, looks nice
-and clean.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the evening, we drive upon the Prado del Gracia, which
-terminates in the little town of Gracia, where are pretty villas,
-and stop at a convent for the evening service. It is of this very
-convent that they tell how, in the Moorish invasion of Al
-Mansour, when his soldiers were recruiting for the harems of the
-Balearic Islands, (Minorca and Majorca,) the poor nuns, thinking
-to avoid so horrible a fate, heroically cut off their noses to
-disfigure themselves; but it did not avail to save them; for
-history records that they were carried off, in spite of their
-noses, or, rather, in spite of the want of them.
-</p>
-<p>
-Barceloneta is a suburb where live the fishermen, and where we
-find docks crowded with shipping. From this we have a fine view
-of the Fort Montuich, built upon a high rock. There is also a
-citadel near the sea, and a beautiful promenade upon the walls,
-(Muralea del Mar.) And amongst the public buildings is a
-university, said to be the finest in Spain; many hospitals and
-charitable institutions, and a theatre (the Lycée) which they
-claim to be larger than San Carlo, in Naples, the Scala, in
-Milan, or even the new-opera house in Paris. Barcelona is the
-birthplace of Balmes, the author of that great work,
-<i>Protestantism and Catholicity compared in their Influence upon
-Civilization</i>.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Valencia Del Cid, Sept. 14.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yesterday, at six in the morning, we leave Barcelona for "the
-City of the Cid," arriving at ten o'clock at night; a long,
-fatiguing, but interesting day. The railway runs by the blue
-Mediterranean, with stern, bleak mountains close on the other
-side; or through vineyards, and fig and olive groves, with which
-are mingled peaches, apples, and quinces, showing that all
-varieties of fruits meet together in this favored clime. In
-passing Martorell, the third or fourth station from Barcelona, we
-have a fine view of Montserrat; a picturesque, jagged mountain
-1000 feet high, where is a monastery, one of the most celebrated
-pilgrimages in Spain. On the opposite side is a famous old Roman
-bridge (over the Llobregat river) called "del Diablo," built in
-531 B.C., by Hannibal, in honor of Hamilcar. At one end is a
-triumphal arch. Here the views are particularly fine.
-</p>
-<p>
-Villafranca comes next, the earliest Carthaginian colony in
-Catalonia, founded by Hamilcar. Next we see Terragona, an ancient
-city, on a steep and craggy eminence, founded by the Scipios. It
-was long the seat of the Roman government in Spain; now famous
-for its fine wines.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here the costume of the peasants begins to look more eastern. The
-full, short linen pantaloons, (on each leg a petticoat;) a red
-handkerchief, worn as a turban; sometimes leather leggings, but
-more frequently legs red from the wine-press, where they have
-been treading out the grape-juice. The peasants are simple and
-friendly, and, seeing few strangers, look upon them as guests,
-and seem never disposed to speculate upon our ignorance of the
-prices of things. One of our party offered to pay for a tempting
-bunch of grapes which we saw in a man's basket, who pressed to
-look at us in one of the stations. With difficulty he was
-prevailed upon to take a real, (five cents.) He then offered
-more, which we in turn declined.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204">{204}</a></span>
-Waiting till the train moved off, he sprang forward, and dropped
-into my lap a bunch which must have weighed several pounds, and I
-looked back to see him smiling most triumphantly. At another
-station (a poor place in the mountains) a modest, clean-looking
-woman came forward with glasses of water. No one paid anything
-for drinking it. But when she came to our carriage, one of the
-party gave her two reals, (ten cents in silver.) The poor thing
-shook her head sadly, saying, "No tengo cambia." (But I have no
-change.) When she was made to comprehend that she was to keep it
-<i>all</i>, her face glowed with delighted surprise; and as we
-moved off, we saw her showing the money to all around her. No
-doubt she took my friend for the queen herself!
-</p>
-<p>
-At Tortosa, on the Ebro, we begin to see the palm-trees. And here
-we enter the province of Valencia, the brightest jewel in the
-crown of Spain. The Moors placed here their paradise, and under
-their rule it became the garden of Spain. From them the Cid
-rescued it in 1094, and here he governed like a king, and died
-here in 1099. It was then annexed to Castile and Arragon. It is a
-fortified town, about three miles from the sea; and with its
-narrow streets, tall houses, balconies, with curtains and blinds
-hanging outside into the street, looks perennially southern and
-Spanish. We come up from the station in a "tartana," a vehicle
-peculiar to Valencia, a sort of omnibus on two wheels, made to
-hold six persons; without springs, and with one horse. The driver
-sits on the shaft, with his legs dangling down, or supported by a
-strap. This vehicle jolts horribly, but is very cheap and
-convenient.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Tuesday, September 13.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day we first see the museum, in which are many pictures of
-Spanish artists, both ancient and modern&mdash;two of Spagnoletto, and
-several of Ribalta and Juanes&mdash;two Valencian artists of whom they
-are very proud. The last is especially famed for his beautiful
-pictures of our Lord. We saw here the ancient altar used by James
-the Conqueror, "Don Jaime," as he is called&mdash;the great hero of
-Catalonia, son of Pedro I. He was one of the first sovereigns who
-established standing armies in Europe. Amongst other wise
-institutions, the municipal body of Barcelona was his work. He
-died in Valencia, 1276, on his way to the monastery of Poblet to
-become a monk, confiding his goodly sword, "La Tizona," to his
-son Don Pedro, in whose favor he had abdicated that year.
-</p>
-<p>
-In this museum are many remains of the ancient Saguntum, (now
-called Murviedro,) which is but a few miles from Valencia, and a
-model of its old Roman theatre. In the court of the building are
-some palm-trees three hundred years old.
-</p>
-<p>
-We next visit an ancient church of the Jesuits to see one of
-Murillo's "Immaculate Conceptions," which is very beautiful. Then
-the "Audiencia," an ancient building of the sixteenth century,
-where are the courts of justice and other courts. Here is some
-wonderful old carving, and curious portraits of Inquisitors;
-civil, on one side, ecclesiastical on the other. We were glad to
-see that the former greatly outnumbered the latter. After this,
-we go to one of the finest hospitals in the world; with marble
-floors, and pillars supporting a lofty ceiling; the great windows
-opening into gardens of orange, and myrtle, and jessamine; all
-clean, fresh, and cool; with an altar so placed in the centre,
-under a lofty dome, that every patient could see and hear the
-divine office. The whole building was alike well arranged; the
-kitchen large and convenient, and the dispensary grand.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205">{205}</a></span>
-Certainly, in all our experience&mdash;and we have visited hospitals
-everywhere&mdash;we have seen nothing so <i>inviting</i>, so really
-elegant, as this. Here we meet the two loveliest women we have
-seen in Spain; both sisters of charity; one having charge of the
-dispensary, and the other of the foundling institution connected
-with the hospital. Such white complexions; lovely color; such
-eyes, and eyelashes, and teeth! Specimens of the beauty of
-Valencia. And such charming groups of children as we saw amongst
-these unhappy disowned ones! Unconscious of their fate, they
-played merrily in the cool court, till, seeing strangers, many
-ran to hide their beautiful eyes behind the sister's apron. The
-school-room would have done honor to the most "<i>enlightened
-nation</i>," which might here take a lesson from "<i>benighted
-Spain</i>." Great placards hold the "A B C." Slates hang in order
-by the little benches against the wall; pictures of beasts and
-birds, for natural history; maps, for geography; drawings, for
-mathematics; balls strung on wires, for counting; large books
-filled with colored engravings of Bible history, from the birth
-of Adam to the end of the Apocalypse. And such neatness and
-order! There is one department for the little ones whose mothers
-leave them each morning, when they go out to work, returning for
-them at night. Their tiny baskets hung in a row. Some, who were
-quite babies, were being greatly petted, because it was their
-first day away from the mother.
-</p>
-<p>
-While in the school-room, one of the party began examining a
-large map of Spain with reference to our projected route. The
-sister seeing this, lowered the map by a cord, and calling a
-little fellow of five years, he pointed out the oceans by which
-Spain is surrounded, named the rivers and mountains, the
-provinces of Spain, and the principal towns; never once making a
-blunder, though he often paused to recollect himself.
-</p>
-<p>
-We drive to see the queen's garden, where is every tropical tree
-and flower. This, with other gardens, borders upon the Alameda, a
-broad, shady promenade extending three miles to the sea. There is
-another promenade called the "Glorieta," where the band plays
-every morning from nine to eleven. We see, also, the Plaza de
-Toros, (the arena for the bull-fights,) one of the finest in
-Spain, capable of holding twenty thousand people; built so
-exactly like a Roman amphitheatre that we feel as if we looked
-upon the Colosseum in the days of its glory. It is evident that
-these people inherit the love of this their national pastime from
-their Roman ancestors. Happily, the fashion is dying out. In
-Valencia, the bull-fights occur but once or twice a year. They
-are now making preparations for a three days' "funcion," to begin
-on the 24th. We saw the poor horses doomed to death. Forty a day
-is the average number. The men are rarely killed, but often badly
-hurt.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Wednesday, September 16.
-</p>
-<p>
-This morning we go to the markets to see the wonderful display of
-fruits for which Valencia is so famous. Never were such grapes
-and peaches, melons and figs, oranges and lemons, apples and
-pears, the last as fine as could be seen in all New England; the
-nuts and vegetables equally good. Potatoes, and tomatoes, and
-peppers, of mammoth size, and even the Indian corn and rice as
-good as those of America. But even the Spanish gravity is here
-upset at sight of our round hats, short veils, and parasols.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206">{206}</a></span>
-The women hold their their sides with laughter, and we are driven
-to resolve upon wearing mantillas and fans, which fashion we soon
-after, in self-defence, adopt. We go to the shops to buy fans,
-which are a specialty of Valencia, as are also the beautiful
-striped blankets, (mantas,) which are as indispensable to a
-Valencian as the fan is to the Valencienne; and is at once his
-cloak, his bag, his bed, his coverlet, and his towel. They say of
-a Valencian, that he has two uses for a watermelon&mdash;to eat his
-dinner, and make his toilette. After eating the melon, he washes
-his face with the rind, and wipes upon his manta. They wear it
-slung gracefully over the left shoulder, or over both shoulders,
-the ends falling behind; and over the head-handkerchief is often
-worn the pointed hat of Philip II.'s time, with wide, turned-up
-brim.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day we visit the cathedral and San Juanes. Like most of the
-great churches of Spain, the cathedral occupies the site of a
-Roman temple. This, made into a church by the Goths, was changed
-to a mosque by the Arabs, and now (since 1240) it is again a
-Christian church. Some of the doors, and many of the ornaments,
-are Moorish. The gratings&mdash;of brass&mdash;are very handsome; as are
-the altars and screen, of marble and alabaster. This last is most
-abundant in Spain. A palace opposite to our hotel (that of the
-Marquis de los Aguas) is beautifully adorned on the outside with
-statues, and vases, and flowers of alabaster in relievo.
-</p>
-<p>
-All these Spanish churches are much ornamented with stucco and
-gilding, according to the taste of the time in which they were
-built. The cathedral has some good pictures in the sacristy; and
-within the sanctuary hang the <i>spurs</i> of Don Jaime upon his
-shield. His body is in one of the chapels.
-</p>
-<p>
-In an old chapter-house we were shown some great chains taken
-from the Moors, and a series of portraits of all the archbishops
-of Valencia; and so much is it the habit to gesticulate in this
-country, that even these dignitaries, instead of being painted in
-<i>ecclesiastical attitudes</i>, have their fingers in every
-imaginable position. One must know their expressive language to
-read what each of these worthies may be saying.
-</p>
-<p>
-After some shopping, we go to call upon the present archbishop, a
-graceful and dignified person, who received us most kindly, and
-presented us each a chapelette and scapular. He has a grand old
-palace, very plainly furnished; a pretty chapel; and, in a fine
-old hall, with groined roof, were portraits of his predecessors
-from the sixth century to the present day.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have a visit from the English consul, to whom we brought
-letters. He is very kind and friendly, and full of offers of
-service. The Spanish sun seems to have warmed the English heart,
-which seldom gives out so much, save in its own foggy island. He
-sends us some fine wine, which, with some iced orgeat, secures us
-a merry evening.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Thursday, 17.
-</p>
-<p>
-This morning we hear mass in the Church of the Patriarch, into
-which no woman may enter without being veiled. Then we visit the
-house in which St. Vincent Ferrer, the patron of Valencia, was
-born, and where is a fountain greatly esteemed for its miraculous
-powers.
-</p>
-<p>
-While at breakfast, a young man enters, whom we take for a
-Spaniard, but who proves to be an American, and from Maine! He
-has lived in Cuba, however, and it turns out that his father is a
-friend of the Spanish ladies with whom we are travelling.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207">{207}</a></span>
-He gives a pleasant account of his travels in the north of Spain;
-tells of the wonders of Burgos; of the railway between that and
-Miranda, which shows such extraordinary engineering skill; and of
-the fine scenery through which he has passed. Yesterday, on the
-mountains, he saw three sunsets; or rather, saw the sun set three
-times, in descending from range to range.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is delightful to meet an American who, instead of complaining
-of the discomforts of travelling in Spain, as most of our people
-do, sees only what is pleasant. For ourselves, we have been most
-fortunate; good hotels, most obliging people, and, so far from
-being extortionate, (as we were told to expect,) we find Spanish
-hotels cheaper than those of any other part of Europe. To-day we
-eat the "pollo con arroz," one of the national dishes, (rice with
-chicken and saffron,) and find it very good.
-</p>
-<p>
-Hans Andersen, in his little book on Spain, says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Connected with Valencia, are several of the old Spanish
-  romances about the Cid&mdash;he who in all his battles, and on
-  occasions when he was misjudged, remained true to his God, his
-  people, and himself; he who, in his own time, took rank with
-  the monarchs of Spain, and down to our own time is the pride of
-  the country which he was mainly instrumental in rescuing from
-  the infidels. As a conqueror he entered Valencia, and here
-  lived with his noble and heroic wife, Zimena, and his
-  daughters, Doña Sol and Doña Elvira; and here he died in 1099.
-  Here stood around his bed of death all who were dear to him.
-  Even his very warhorse, Babieca, was ordered to be called
-  thither. In song, it is said that the horse stood like a lamb,
-  and gazed with his large eyes upon his master, who could no
-  more speak than the poor horse himself. &hellip; Through the streets
-  of Valencia passed at night the extraordinary cavalcade to San
-  Peder de Cordoña, which the departed chief had desired should
-  be his burial-place. The victorious colors of the Cid were
-  carried in front. Four hundred knights protected them. Then
-  came the corpse. Upright upon his war-horse sat the dead;
-  arrayed in his armor with his shield and his helmet, his long
-  white beard flowing down to his breast.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Gil Diaz and Bishop Jeronymo escorted the body on either side;
-  then followed Doña Zimena with three hundred noblemen. The gate
-  of Valencia toward Castile was opened, and the procession
-  passed silently and slowly out into the open fields, where the
-  Moorish army was encamped. A dark Moorish woman shot at them a
-  poisoned arrow, but she and a hundred of her sisters paid the
-  forfeit of their lives for that deed. Thirty-six Moorish
-  princes were in the camp; but terror seized upon them when they
-  beheld the dead hero on his white charger.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-    'And to their vessels they took flight,
-     And many   sprang into the waves.
-     Two thousand, certainly, that night
-     Amid the billows found their graves.'
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p class="cite">
-  "And the Cid Campeador thus won, after he was dead, good tents,
-  gold and silver; and the poorest in Valencia became rich. So
-  says the old 'Song of the Cid in Valencia.'
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-  Cordova &mdash; Province Of Andalusia &mdash;
-     Fonda Suiza &mdash; Hotel Suisse.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-September 18.
-</p>
-<p>
-After a long night journey, (by rail,) we reach a hotel rivalling
-the cleanness and comfort of the genuine Swiss hotel, and find
-ourselves in the ancient capital of the Moorish empire, and in
-that lovely, bright Andalusia, so famed throughout the world.
-</p>
-<p>
-From the time we leave Valencia until we reach Jativa, (about
-fifty miles,) we pass over the "Huerta" (the "garden") of
-Valencia, one continuous plain of verdure; pastures which are cut
-from twelve to seventeen times a year. Golden oranges, and other
-fruits hang above these green fields; and dates, and figs, and
-peaches, and pears, and quinces, pomegranates, plums, apples,
-melons, and grapes, and olives, with Indian corn, rice, and every
-vegetable in equal perfection. Well might the Moors term this
-plain (with Andalusia) "the Paradise of the East." For centuries
-after their expulsion, their poets still sang verses expressive
-of their grief for its loss, and it is said they still mention it
-in their evening prayers, and supplicate Heaven to restore it to
-them.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208">{208}</a></span>
-<p>
-And this fertility is all their work. Every stream has been
-turned from its channel into numberless little canals, which
-water this luxurious soil; and these are arranged with such skill
-and care that crop after crop has its share of irrigation, and in
-its just proportion. From Jativa the country becomes more
-mountainous. We pass the ruins of an old chateau on a high hill,
-(Montesa,) seat of an ancient order of chivalry which existed
-after the suppression of the Templars. We next pass Almanzar,
-Chinchilla, Albacete, where they sell the famous "Toledo blades,"
-now hardly so famous. Here we are in La Mancha, and when we stop
-in Alcazar at midnight, we are near the village of Troboso, which
-Cervantes makes the dwelling of Don Quixote's Dulcinea. Alcazar
-is claimed as the birth-place of Cervantes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here we leave our road for the grand route between Madrid and
-Cordova; and here we are crowded into carriages with other
-ladies, a fate from which we have hitherto been defended; each
-conductor treating us as if we had been especially committed to
-his care, and sparing us all annoyance. Fortunately, at
-Manzanares two of these ladies leave us, and we make acquaintance
-with the third, who is very kind and polite; offers us a share of
-her luncheon, and gives us much information of people and things
-in Spain. She is a Portuguese, and tells us how much larger and
-finer are the olive-trees in her country than in Spain; she
-remembers one tree which eight men could not clasp. From her we
-hear much of the queen as from an unprejudiced source, and learn,
-what we gathered afterward from many credible sources, that this
-poor queen is a good woman, a very pious woman, full of talents
-and accomplishments, generous to a fault, with strong feelings
-and affections, which induce her to reward to excess those whom
-she loves or who have served her; and this has given rise to the
-injurious reports which have found their way to every foreign
-newspaper, but which no <i>good</i> people in Spain believe.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Andujar the country is very uninteresting, more of a grazing
-country, where we see immense herds of cattle, sheep, horses, and
-goats, with picturesque shepherds minding them. The men wear
-short trousers, opened several inches at the ankle, showing the
-untanned leathern buskin, (as is seen in the old pictures of
-Philip II.'s time,) a red sash, and the black hat turned up all
-around. Presently we come upon the Guadalquivir, upon which
-Cordova is situated, and which is crossed here by a bridge of
-black marble. We drive up the cool, shady streets, catching
-glimpses, through open doors and curtains, of the little paradise
-within&mdash;the marble courts, with fountain, and orange-trees, and
-flowers, and vines&mdash;a vestige of the old Moorish time. In fact,
-everything here so preserves its Arabic character that one is
-transported six centuries back, into the palmy days of the
-Kalifs, when this city was said to have contained half a million
-of inhabitants, 200,000 houses, 60,000 palaces, 700 mosques, 900
-baths, 50 hospitals, and a public library of 600,000 volumes. Of
-all these glories only the mosque remains to show by its
-magnificence that these accounts cannot be exaggerated.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209">{209}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Saturday, September 19.
-</p>
-<p>
-We hasten to see the mosque, (the cathedral now,) and, entering a
-low door-way in the wall which surrounds it, you find yourself in
-a beautiful oriental court, with fountains, and rows of tall
-palms, and ancient orange trees and cypress. This is called "the
-court of ranges." Open colonnades surround the court on all sides
-save one, from which twenty doors once opened into the mosque;
-only one of these is now open. Enter this, and you find yourself
-in a forest of pillars&mdash;a thousand are yet left&mdash;of every hue and
-shade, no two alike, of jasper, and verde antique, and porphyry,
-and alabaster, and every colored marble, fluted, and spiral; and
-over these, rises arch upon arch overlapping each other. These
-divide the mosque into twenty-nine aisles from north to south,
-and nineteen from west to east; intersecting each other in the
-most harmonious and beautiful manner. The Moors brought these
-pillars from the ancient temples of Rome, and Nismes, and
-Carthage. The mosque was built in the eighth century, by Abd El
-Rahman, who aimed to make it rival those of Damascus and Bagdad.
-It is said he worked upon it an hour every day with his own hand,
-and it is certain that it ranked in sanctity with the "Caaba" of
-Mecca, and the great mosque of Jerusalem. Ten thousand lamps
-illuminated it at the hour of prayer; the roof was made of arbor
-vitae, which is considered imperishable, and was burnished with
-gold. The chapel, where is the holy of holies&mdash;where was kept the
-Koran&mdash;gives one an idea of what the ornaments of the whole must
-have been. Here the carvings are of the most exquisite fineness,
-like patterns of lace; the gold enamel, the beautiful mosaics,
-are as bright as if made yesterday. In the holy of holies&mdash;a
-recess in this chapel&mdash;the roof is of one block of marble, carved
-in the form of a shell, supported by pillars of various-colored
-marble. Around this wall a path is worn in the marble pavement,
-by the knees of the faithful making the mystic "seven rounds;"
-and our guide tells us that, when a few years ago, the brother of
-the king of Morocco came here, he went round this holy of holies
-upon his knees, seven times, crying bitterly all the while. The
-chapel of the Kalifs is also remarkable, from the floor to the
-ceiling, the marble being carved in these beautiful and delicate
-patterns.
-</p>
-<p>
-From the cathedral, we go to visit the old Roman bridge of
-sixteen arches, which spans the Guadalquivir. This looks upon
-some ruins of Moorish mills, and the orange-gardens of the
-Alcazar, (now in ruins,) once the palace of Roderick, the last of
-the Goths. As we pass the modern Alcazar, (used as a prison,) an
-old cavalry officer comes out of the government stables, and
-invites us to look at the horses&mdash;the silky-coated Andalusians of
-which we have heard so much, and the fleet-footed, graceful
-Arabians. Each horse had his name and pedigree on a shield over
-his stall. Returning to our hotel for breakfast, we go out again
-to see the markets and the shops; visit some churches, and the
-lovely promenade by the Guadalquivir. Our costumes excite great
-remark; one woman says to another, "They are masqueraders;"
-another lifts her hands and exclaims "Ave Maria;" and but for the
-intervention of our guide, who reproves their curiosity, we
-should be followed by a troop of children.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Sunday, 20.
-</p>
-<p>
-Coming to breakfast, we are charmed to find our young American
-friend whom we had left in Valencia; and, in spite of a pouring
-rain, we all set out to hear high mass in the cathedral. The
-mosque was consecrated, and made the cathedral, when the city was
-captured by St. Ferdinand in 1236.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210">{210}</a></span>
-Several chapels and altars were then added, and in 1521, the
-transept and choir were begun, to make room for which, eighty
-pillars were sacrificed. Charles V., who gave permission for this
-act of vandalism, was deeply mortified when he saw what had been
-done, and reproved the canons of the church, saying, they had
-destroyed what was unique in the world, to raise that which could
-be found anywhere.
-</p>
-<p>
-While we are at mass, our young American arrives with the guide,
-to tell us that a <i>revolution</i> has broken out, and entreats
-us to return to the hotel. Some of the ladies are much alarmed;
-but my friend and myself, remembering that revolutions are
-chronic in Spanish countries, and are generally bloodless, we
-maintain our ground, too old soldiers to be driven from the field
-before a gun is fired; and the result justifies our faith.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nobody quits the church. We have a solemn procession of the
-Blessed Sacrament after mass, winding through these beautiful
-aisles, accompanied by a band of wind instruments, the whole
-congregation following. We reach home to find our
-fellow-travellers very much frightened and annoyed at the
-prospect of a long detention; but we are assured that the worst
-which can befall us is a delay of a few days, to which we can
-well submit in this comfortable inn. Making acquaintance with our
-fellow-prisoners, we grow jolly over our misfortunes. The
-railways are all cut; General Prim and his colleagues (the exiled
-generals) are besieging Cadiz; and the queen has fled to
-Biarritz, to claim the intervention of the Emperor Napoleon.
-These are some of the rumors which are rife during the day. Hosts
-of red umbrellas parade the town&mdash;the most formidable weapon
-which we encounter; a few voices faintly cry "Libertad!" and
-"Viva!" some damp-looking soldiers pass by, with lances from
-which depend little red flags, looking limp and hopeless in the
-heavy rain. These troops declare for the people. We ask one of
-these what they want; the answer is, "Liberty." (Of course.) "And
-what is that?" "We want a <i>King</i>. We will not be governed by
-a woman." Inflammatory hand-bills are distributed amongst the
-crowd, very vague in their demands, "<i>an empty throne</i>"
-being the first requisite on the list.
-</p>
-<p>
-One man is killed, (a fine young officer of the queen's troops
-mercilessly shot down,) and another man is wounded. In the
-evening, we hear that the revolution is accomplished in Cordova;
-the insurrectionists have the city!
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Monday, 21.
-</p>
-<p>
-All is peaceful in appearance, and we go out to shop, to find
-some of the filagree jewelry for which Cordova is remarkable&mdash;an
-art retained from the time of the Moors. The rain drives us in,
-and we spend the day with music, books, and in conversation with
-our new friends&mdash;a Spanish lady of rank, who has come to Cordova
-about a lawsuit, and who shakes with fright, and goes about with
-a glass of water and a cup of vinegar to quiet her nerves; the
-poor lady neither eats nor sleeps. The others are of different
-calibre; a sturdy Scotch lady, and her companion, a sweet and
-charming German girl. "Who's afeard!"
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Tuesday, 22.
-</p>
-<p>
-We are roused by the sound of military music, and find that 5000
-of the queen's troops are entering the city. Such.
-splendid-looking fellows! Such handsome officers! It is plain the
-city is taken in earnest <i>now!</i> The inconstant populace
-clamor and shout; all is enthusiasm; the report is, that the
-insurrectionists are fled to Seville; the roads are repaired, but
-we are not allowed to leave the city.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211">{211}</a></span>
-Still prisoners of <i>war!</i> Later in the day, we hear that the
-troops we saw this morning are those which had joined the
-insurgents at Seville. The queen's troops, commanded by the
-Marquis de Novaliches, are outside the town, fearing to be too
-few for those within, and waiting the turn of events. It is
-supposed there will be some compromise entered into; a convention
-patched up; and no fighting. The prime minister, Gonzales Bravo,
-has fled from Madrid, where all is anarchy. This man, who has
-been the author of all the oppressive measures, and all the
-banishments which have made the queen's government unpopular,
-now, in her hour of need leaves her to her fate, after cruelly
-deceiving her. When she feared the danger of revolution, he
-assured her she might leave the country without any anxiety; and
-she went to Biarritz in ignorance of the truth; thus giving her
-enemies the very opportunity they desired. Even now, (they say,)
-were she to return, and throw herself upon the generosity of the
-people, she would be received kindly; such is the loyalty of
-Spaniards to their monarchs. The influence of Bravo banished the
-Montpensiers, (the queen's sister and her husband, the son of
-Louis Philippe,) who were naturally her best friends, and to whom
-she had showed every kindness. He sent away many of her most
-popular generals; and now they return, with men and arms, and
-British and Prussian gold; the people sympathize with them, the
-troops join them; we hear from Cadiz, that there was a perfect
-ovation upon their landing.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day, we have a fine walk in a beautiful park, on one side of
-the city, from whence we have a charming view of the mountains;
-on one side, so grand and bold, with olive groves, and white
-country houses sparkling in the sunshine; on the other side, the
-hills are low, and their graceful, wavy outlines have the
-peculiar purple hue belonging to Spain, and form a striking
-contrast to the others. Between the two, lies the city, and the
-fertile plains about it. We lose our way in the tortuous streets,
-and spend the morning peeping into the beautiful patios,
-(courts,) which open to the heavens, or have sometimes a linen
-awning over them; with marble pavements, over which the cool
-fountains play; with orange-trees, and flowers, amongst which
-sofas, and chairs, and pictures are disposed; and around which
-often runs a marble corridor, with pillars and curtains,
-communicating with the other apartments. Here the family sit, and
-here take place the "tirtulias," the meetings for talk and music.
-A picture of one of these patios is thus charmingly translated
-from one of Fernan Caballero's beautiful tales by a late English
-traveller; and which any one who has been in Spain will
-recognize:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The house was spacious, and scrupulously clean: on each side
-  the door was a bench of stone. In the porch hung a little lamp
-  before the image of our Lord in a niche over the entrance,
-  according to the Catholic custom of putting all things under
-  holy protection. In the middle was the 'patio,' a necessity to
-  the Andalusian. And in the centre of this spacious court an
-  enormous orange-tree raised its leafy head from its robust
-  trunk. For an infinity of generations had this beautiful tree
-  been a source of delight to the family. The women made tonic
-  decoctions from its leaves; the daughters adorned themselves
-  with its flowers; the boys cooled their blood with its fruits;
-  the birds made their home in its boughs. The rooms opened out
-  of the 'patio,' and borrowed their light from thence.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212">{212}</a></span>
-  This 'patio' was the centre of all the 'home;' the place of
-  gathering when the day's work was over. The orange-tree loaded
-  the air with its heavy perfume, and the waters of the fountain
-  fell in soft showers on the marble basin, fringed with the
-  delicate maiden-hair fern. And the father, leaning against the
-  tree, smoked his 'cigarro de papel;' and the mother sat at her
-  work, while the little ones played at her feet, the eldest
-  resting his head on a big dog, which lay stretched at full
-  length on the cool marble slabs. All was still, and peaceful,
-  and beautiful."
-</p>
-<p>
-We close the day with a farewell visit to the cathedral. Surely
-it is the most wonderful building in the world. Even St. Peter's
-hardly fills one with greater astonishment. This is altogether
-unique; and its grace, and elegance, and harmony win one to love
-it. We lingered by the chapel of the holy of holies, finding
-beauties which we had not before seen, and bade farewell to it
-with deep regret; then wandered to the bridge over the
-Guadalquivir, and gazed upon the truly eastern prospect it
-reveals.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day, a great robber from the mountains, upon whose head a
-price had been fixed by the late government, comes boldly into
-town. The people cry, "Viva Pacheco!" In half an hour after, we
-hear he has been shot&mdash;the victim of private revenge.
-</p>
-<p>
-Cordova is the birthplace of Lucan, the author of the
-<i>Pharsalia</i>; of the two Senecas; of many eminent Moslem
-poets and authors, and of the famous Gonzales de Cordova, "El
-Gran Capitan."
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-
-                 <h2>Pope Or People.</h2>
-				 <p class="center_close">
-                  [Footnote 50]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 50: The <i>Congregationalist and Boston
-    Recorder</i>, Boston, March 4th, 1869.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We confess to having read with no little surprise an elaborate
-article in the <i>Congregationalist and Boston Recorder</i>
-entitled <i>Pope or People</i>. Had we met the article in a
-professedly Unitarian journal or periodical we should have
-thought little of it; but meeting it in the recognized organ of
-the so-called orthodox Congregationalists of Massachusetts, we
-have read it with no ordinary interest. It shows that the
-Protestant, especially the old Puritan mind of the country, is
-profoundly agitated with the church question under one of its
-most important aspects. He who reads with any attention the
-leading American sectarian journals can hardly fail to perceive
-that there is a growing distrust in the Protestant world of the
-Protestant rule of faith, and a growing conviction that the only
-alternative, as the journal before us expresses it, is either
-pope or people. Of course the journal in question has no clear
-apprehension of either of the alternatives it suggests, but it
-does see and feel the need of certainty in matters of religious
-belief, and is in pursuit of it. It says:
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213">{213}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "One of our great men once declared that the thing most to be
-  desired in this world, by an intelligent mind, is an
-  unfaltering religious belief. In the sense in which he meant
-  it, his remark is unquestionably true; and it explains the
-  philosophy of much of the success of the Romish Church. Men do
-  crave certainty in their conviction; such certainty demands
-  infallibility on which to found itself, and the papal system
-  offers the promise of just that infallibility. And thousands
-  upon thousands of minds rest in that; and being able to receive
-  it, it meets that innate and inextinguishable craving of the
-  soul for stability under its feet, and gives them a
-  great&mdash;though it be a fallacious&mdash;peace.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "But multitudes, and some even among the nominal adherents of
-  the papacy, are not able so to receive that doctrine, and are
-  consequently driven to seek for some other rock on which to
-  found the house of their faith; too often with the result of
-  building it on the sand, with its seductive security for fair
-  weather, and its terrible and irremediable fall when the
-  tempestuous night-time of death shall come. But for those who
-  reject the pope and that certitude of conviction which he
-  offers, what solid ground is there on which to stand secure?"
-</p>
-<p>
-If the writer knew the Catholic religion better, he would know
-that the peace we find in believing is not "fallacious," for "we
-know in whom we believe and are certain;" but he does see that to
-an unfaltering religious belief infallibility of some sort is
-absolutely indispensable, and that the Catholic Church promises
-it; yet, unable or unwilling to accept the pope or the church, he
-looks around to see if he cannot find elsewhere some infallible
-authority in which one may confide, an immovable rock or some
-solid ground on which one may stand and feel that his footing is
-sure. Does he succeed? We think not. He finds an alternative
-indeed, but not an infallible authority, and he has proved very
-conclusively that outside of the church there is and can be no
-such authority for faith. He says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "As we look at it, only two alternatives are possible in this
-  matter of an infallible faith; either the conditions of it
-  exist outside of the soul in some constituted and certified
-  authority, or within the soul in the purest and loftiest
-  exercise of its reason&mdash;and we use this word as
-  <i>including</i> conscience&mdash;under the enlightenment of God's
-  Spirit through his Word. If outside of the soul, in any central
-  and constituted authority, then in the pope; for it may as well
-  be in him as anybody, nobody else claims it, and he does. If
-  inside the soul, then any pope is an impossibility and an
-  insult, and God remits every man to those conditions of secure
-  decision which he has established in his breast, and holds him
-  responsible for a judgment and a life founded upon them. And
-  this latter, precisely, is God's way with men. He never
-  commands them to hang their faith on the pope or the bishop;
-  but rather inquires&mdash;in that tone of asking which is equivalent
-  to the highest form of injunction&mdash;'Why, <i>(aph' heauton,)
-  out of your own selves</i>, do ye not judge what is right?'
-  Even in that precept which many will be swift to quote against
-  us in this connection,'Obey them that have the rule over you,
-  and submit yourselves,' it is first true that these 'rulers,'
-  as the context proves, are mere (<i>hëgoumenön</i>) leaders,
-  and men of example who were already dead, with no flavor of
-  potentiality therefore about them; whose 'faith' is to be
-  imitated rather than whose commands are to be submitted to; and
-  true, in the second place, that the entire appeal of the
-  apostle is to the tribunal of the Hebrews' reason as the court
-  of ultimate decision, inasmuch as he declares that for them to
-  fail thus to follow the good example of the illustrious and
-  holy dead who had walked before them in the heavenly way, would
-  be 'unprofitable' for them; leaving the necessary inference
-  that men are bound to do what is for their highest profit, and
-  therefore bound to decide, in all solemnity, what will be for
-  that profit, and, so deciding, by inevitable necessity, to
-  assume in the last analysis the function of positive masterhood
-  over themselves and their destiny."
-</p>
-<p>
-The alternative here presented is not pope or people, but pope or
-no external authority for faith. But why, supposing the internal
-or subjective authority to be all that is here alleged, is the
-pope an impossibility or an insult? Why may there not be two
-witnesses, the one internal, the other external? Is the
-revelation of God less credible because confirmed by two
-witnesses, each worthy of credit?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214">{214}</a></span>
-The external and the internal do not necessarily exclude, and, if
-both are infallible, cannot exclude each other, or stand opposed
-one to the other. I do not deny or diminish the need or worth of
-reason by asserting the infallibility of the church, nor the
-importance and necessity of the infallible church by asserting
-the full power and freedom of reason. The Catholic asserts both,
-and has all the internal light and authority of reason that our
-Puritan doctor can pretend to, and has the infallible church in
-addition.
-</p>
-<p>
-We may say the same when is added to "the purest and loftiest
-exercise of reason" the enlightenment of God's Spirit through his
-Word. This word, on the hypothesis, must be spoken inside of the
-soul, or else it is an authority outside of the soul, which the
-writer cannot admit. His rule of faith is reason and the interior
-illumination of the Holy Ghost. The Catholic rule by no means
-excludes this; it includes it, and adds to it the external word
-and the infallible authority of the church. Catholics assert the
-interior illumination and inspiration of the Holy Spirit as fully
-and as strenuously as the Puritan does or can. The authority
-inside the soul, be it more or be it less, does not exclude the
-external authority of the church, nor does the external authority
-of the church exclude the internal authority of reason and the
-Spirit. Catholicity asserts both, and interprets each by the
-authority of the other. Catholics have all the reason and all the
-interior "enlightenment of God's Spirit" that Protestants have,
-and lay as much stress on each, to say the least, as Protestants
-do or can.
-</p>
-<p>
-The great mistake of non-catholics is in the supposition that the
-assertion of an external infallible authority necessarily
-excludes, or at least supersedes, reason and the interior
-illumination of the Spirit. This is false in logic, and, as every
-one who understands Catholic theology knows, is equally false in
-fact. There is a maxim accepted and insisted on by all Catholic
-theologians, that settles, in principle, the whole controversy;
-namely, <i>gratia supponit naturam</i>. Grace supposes nature,
-revelation supposes reason, and the external supposes the
-internal; and hence no Catholic holds that faith is or can be
-produced by the external authority of the church alone, though
-infallible, or without the grace of God, that illuminates the
-understanding and inspires the will. Hence our Lord says, "No man
-cometh to me, unless the Father draws him." In our controversies
-with Protestants we necessarily insist on the external authority,
-because that is what they deny; hence is produced an impression
-in many minds that we deny the internal, or make no account of
-it. Nothing can be more untrue or unjust, as any one may know who
-will make himself at all familiar with the writings of Catholic
-ascetics, or with the Catholic direction of souls.
-</p>
-<p>
-But while we assert the internal we do not concede that it is
-alone sufficient. "Dearly beloved, believe not every spirit, but
-try the spirits, whether they be of God," (I John iv. i.) Saints
-may mistake their own imaginations or enthusiasm for the
-inspirations of the Spirit, and even in their case it is
-necessary to try the spirit, and, in the very nature of the case,
-the trial must be by an external test or authority. The test of
-the internal by the internal is simply no test at all.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215">{215}</a></span>
-The beloved apostle in this same chapter of his first epistle
-gives two tests, the one doctrinal and the other apostolical: "By
-this is the Spirit of God known: every spirit that confesseth
-Jesus Christ to have come in the flesh is of God, and every
-spirit that dissolveth Jesus (by denying either his humanity or
-his divinity) is not of God." "We are of God. He that knoweth God
-heareth us; he that is not of God heareth us not; by this we know
-the spirit of truth, and the spirit of error." The internal,
-then, must be brought to the test of apostolic doctrine and of
-the apostolic communion or the apostolic authority, both of which
-are external, or outside of the soul. The assertion of the
-external does not supersede the internal, nor does the assertion
-of the internal supersede the necessity of the external
-infallible authority. The error of our Puritan journalist is in
-supposing that if the one is taken the other must be rejected; he
-should know that no one is obliged to choose between them, and
-that both, each in its proper place and function, may be and must
-be accepted. It is true, neither reason nor the inspiration of
-the Spirit can deceive or mislead, us; but we may be deceived as
-to what reason really dictates, and as to whether the internal
-phenomena really are interior inspirations of the Spirit; and
-therefore to the safety and certainty of our faith, even
-subjectively considered, the external infallible authority of the
-pope or church is indispensable.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is evident enough of itself, and still more so from the
-article before us. The insufficiency of reason and the spiritual
-light, either in the writer or in us, appears in his
-understanding of the text of St. Paul, Hebrews xiii., which, as
-he cites it, reads, "Obey them that have rule over you, and
-submit yourselves;" but as we read it, "Obey your prelates and
-submit to them." Which of us has the true version of the words of
-the apostle? The Puritan interpreter says these prelates, or
-"these rulers," were mere leaders, and men of example, who were
-already dead, with no flavor of potentiality, (sic,) therefore,
-about them; and whose "faith" is to be imitated, rather than
-whose commands are to be submitted to. We are disposed to believe
-that they were not dead men, but living rulers placed by the Holy
-Ghost over the faithful, to whom the apostle commands them to
-submit; and we are confirmed in this view by the reason which the
-apostle assigns for his command: "For they watch as having to
-give an account of your souls, that they may do this with joy,
-not with grief." Which of us is right? The journalist tells us,
-moreover, that "the entire appeal of the apostle is to the
-tribunal of the Hebrews' reason as the court of ultimate
-decision." We hold that the apostle, from beginning to end,
-appeals to the revelation held by the Hebrews, and argues from
-that and the character of their sacrifices and the levitical
-priesthood, that both were types and figures of the real and
-everlasting priesthood of Christ and his one all-sufficient
-sacrifice. Christ having come in the end of the world, and
-offered himself once for all, the types and figures must give way
-to the reality they prefigured and announced. Therefore the
-Hebrews should accept Christ as the fulfilment of their law. He
-undoubtedly reasons, and reasons powerfully, but from revealed
-premises. Here we and the journalist are at odds; we cannot both
-be right: who shall decide between us? While we thus differ,
-supposing us equally able, learned, and honest, how can either
-find his cravings for certainty satisfied?
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216">{216}</a></span>
-<p>
-It is a very common prejudice among Protestants and rationalists
-that Catholics eschew reason, and assert only an external
-authority which operates only on the will. It seems to be
-forgotten that it was the reformers who denied reason, and set up
-the authority of the written Word against it. No one, as far as
-our knowledge extends, ever spoke more contemptuously of reason
-than did Doctor Martin Luther; and the old Puritan and
-Presbyterian ministers to whose preaching we listened in our
-boyhood were continually warning us to beware of the false and
-deceitful light of reason, which "dazzles but to blind." This was
-in accordance with the doctrine of total depravity with which the
-reformers started; man being clean gone in sin and totally
-corrupt in his nature, his reason, as well as his will, must be
-corrupt, turned against God and truth, and therefore worthy of no
-confidence. No doubt, Protestants have softened the harshness of
-many of the doctrines of the reformers, and in several respects
-have drawn nearer to what has always been the teaching of the
-church; but it is hardly fair in them to charge the errors of
-their ancestors, which they have outgrown or abandoned, upon the
-church which has always condemned them. The Bishop of Avranches,
-Pascal, the Traditionalists, and some others, commonly regarded
-as Catholics, yet for the most part tinctured with Jansenism,
-have indeed seemed to depreciate reason in order the better to
-defend faith; but the church has expressly or virtually condemned
-them, and vindicated the rights of reason. Whoever knows Catholic
-theology, knows that the church never opposes faith or authority
-to reason, but asserts both with equal earnestness and emphasis,
-and denies that there is or can be any antagonism between them.
-</p>
-<p>
-The reformers did not assume that no external infallible
-authority is necessary to faith. They denied the infallible
-authority of popes and councils, but asserted that of the written
-Word, interpreted by private judgment, or rather, by the private
-illumination of the Spirit, called by some in our day the
-Christian conscience, or consciousness. Our Puritan journalist,
-though he rejects not the Scriptures, very ably refutes this
-theory of the reformers:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "There lies before us a recent number of a religious quarterly
-  containing an elaborate article entitled 'An Infallible Church
-  or an infallible Book&mdash;which?' the great object of which is to
-  dethrone the Pope and enthrone the Bible, as the subject of
-  indubitable faith, with that religious certitude with which it
-  may logically comfort the soul. To quote its own language, it
-  would make the Bible 'the supreme and only arbiter in things
-  spiritual.' And this, it thinks, would cause' divisions to
-  cease among us for ever.' But this forgets that the Bible is
-  always at the mercy of its interpreters, and that its unity
-  becomes continual diversity&mdash;being all things to all men, as
-  they compel it, by the manner in which they receive it. This is
-  not true merely in the extreme cases of those who are&mdash;and who
-  know that they are&mdash;'handling the Word of God deceitfully;' it
-  is true, as well, of those who mean to treat it with extremest
-  reverence and humility or receptive faith. Here, for example,
-  are two meek and lowly, yet wonderfully clear-headed disciples,
-  like Francis Wayland and Bela Bates Edwards; both able scholars
-  and patient students of the Word; both, so far as human eye can
-  judge, eminently seeking and securing the habitual guidance of
-  the Holy Spirit: and yet, as a matter of fact, reaching, upon
-  certain points which both feel to be of serious importance,
-  conclusions as to what is taught in the Bible, diametrically
-  opposite, and beyond possibility of reconciliation. And who can
-  deny that the one&mdash;seeming to himself to find them in the
-  Bible&mdash;was as sacredly bound to hold, practise, and teach
-  Baptist, as the other, Pedobaptist views."
-</p>
-<p>
-We need add nothing to this refutation. Protestants have had from
-the first all the Bible, all the private judgment, or private
-illumination, they now have or can hope to have; and yet they
-have never been able to agree among themselves on a single dogma
-of faith. The only point on which they have been unanimous is
-their hostility to the Catholic Church.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217">{217}</a></span>
-They have no standard by which to try the spirit; and the Bible,
-not a few among them are accustomed to say, profanely, "is a
-fiddle on which a skilful player may play any tune he pleases."
-Protestants may go to the Bible to prove the doctrines they have
-been taught by their parents or ministers, or held from
-Protestant tradition; but they never, or rarely ever, obtain
-their doctrines from the study of the Holy Scriptures. Hence,
-sects the most divergent appeal alike to the Bible; and each
-seems to find texts in its favor. How can any thinking
-Protestant, who knows this, not be perplexed and uncertain as to
-what he should believe? The writer admits the difficulty, and
-asks:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Are we to understand, then, that Christ is divided? Is there
-  no such thing as absolute truth? This cannot be admitted, and
-  we avoid the admission of it by the claim that God's absolute
-  truth is a truth of love and life, through dogma yet not of
-  dogma; so that it may be reached and realized by approaches not
-  only from different but sometimes from opposite directions."
-</p>
-<p>
-But this does not, as far as we can see, help the matter. Concede
-that charity or love is the fulfilling of the law, and that
-nothing more is required of any one than perfect charity, yet the
-love here asserted is, though not of dogma, "through dogma."
-Unless, then, we are sure of the absolute truth of the dogma, how
-can we be sure of the truth of the love and life, since there are
-many sorts of love? The dogma, according to the Puritan writer,
-is not the principle, indeed, but it is the medium of the love
-and life. Will a false medium be as effectual in relation to the
-end as a true medium? Can a falsehood be, in the nature of
-things, any medium at all? If we say the absolute truth is a
-truth of love and life through dogma, it seems to us absolutely
-necessary that the dogma should be absolutely true; but, whether
-the dogma is absolutely true or not, the writer concedes that
-those who reject the infallibility of the church have no certain
-means of determining. If it be said that the true love and life
-are practicable with contradictory dogmas, as is said in the last
-extract made, then dogmas are indifferent; and whether we believe
-the truth or falsehood of God or Christ; of the human soul; of
-the origin and end of man; of man's duties, and the means of
-discharging them,&mdash;can make no difference as to the truth of our
-love and life. The truth of love and life is not, then, an
-intellectual truth; a truth apprehended by the mind; but must be
-a mere affection of the heart, or, rather, a mere feeling,
-dependent on no operation of the understanding, but on some
-internal or external affection of the sensibility. The love will
-not be a rational affection, but a simple sentiment, sensitive
-affection, or sensible emotion, and as far removed from charity
-as is the sensuous appetite for food or drink.
-</p>
-<p>
-The <i>Congregationalist and Recorder</i> seems aware that it has
-not yet found a solid ground to stand on, and fairly abandons its
-pretension to be able to arrive at absolute truth at all without
-the pope. It says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It is, then, both the privilege and the duty of every man to
-  be a law unto himself; and out of his own reason and
-  conscience, enlightened from all knowledge that can be made
-  available by his own researches and those of his fellows, and
-  more especially by the patient and docile study of the
-  Bible&mdash;all in the most profound, uninterrupted, and prayerful
-  dependence upon the Holy Spirit&mdash;to judge what is right. From
-  the decision which he thus reaches there can be, for him, no
-  appeal. Whether it is anybody's else duty to follow the course
-  prescribed therein, or not, it is <i>his</i> duty to do so. He
-  has plead his cause before his infallible tribunal, and its
-  decision over him is necessarily supreme and inexorable.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218">{218}</a></span>
-  Not to obey it, would be to be false equally to God and to
-  himself. <i>If it be not absolute right which he has reached,
-  it stands in the place of absolute right for him; and only
-  along its road, however thorny, and steep, and high, can he
-  climb up toward heaven</i>. Practically, then, we insist upon
-  it, there is no infallibility possible to man, but that which
-  is resident in his own soul."
-</p>
-<p>
-The conclusion is that to which all who seek their rule of faith
-in private judgment and private illumination, or inside the soul,
-must come at last; namely, the man is a law unto himself; that
-is, is his own law, and, therefore, his own truth. Out of his own
-reason and conscience, enlightened by the best study he can make,
-he is to judge supremely what is right. This, we need not say, is
-pure rationalism. It is man's duty to abide by the conclusion at
-which he arrives; for although it may not be the absolute right,
-yet it is the absolute right for him. This makes truth and duty
-relative; what each one, for himself, thinks them to be. What
-infallibility is here to oppose to the infallibility of the
-church? Suppose it is announced to a man that God has established
-a church which he by his presence renders infallible, to teach
-all men and nations; will it not be the duty of that man to
-listen to the announcement, and to investigate to the best of his
-ability, and with all diligence, whether it be so or not? If,
-through prejudice, indifference, or any other cause, he fails to
-do so, will his conviction against such church be excusable, and
-absolute truth or right, even for him? The article continues:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "And, in the matter of systems, we submit that there is no
-  logical pause possible between the two extremes to which we
-  referred, near the beginning of this article&mdash;that each man's
-  own conscientious reason be his umpire, or that that reason be
-  implicitly surrendered to some sole arbiter without. It must be
-  pope or people; the absolutism of the papacy or the democracy
-  of Congregationalism. There is no intermediate stand-point on
-  which the aristocracy of Presbyterianism, or the limited
-  monarchy of Methodism, or Episcopacy, can solidly build itself.
-  And this is, in point of fact, the unintended confession of
-  actions that are louder than words, in all these systems;
-  inasmuch as an appeal to the people in their individuality is
-  their quick, sharp sword which cuts every knot that draws hard
-  and cannot be untied."
-</p>
-<p>
-But we do not see how this follows. The writer, if he has proved
-anything, has proved, not that Congregationalism is a ground on
-which one can stand, but that the individual is. He places the
-infallible tribunal in the inside of the individual soul;
-Congregationalism places it, if anywhere, in the congregation or
-brotherhood. He should have said, therefore, that it is either
-pope or individualism. We readily agree that there is no solid
-ground between the pope and the people, taken individually, on
-which any third or middle party can stand; but is individualism,
-or the individual soul, a solid ground on which any one can
-stand, without danger of its giving way under him? We have seen
-that it is not, because an external standard is needed by which
-to try the internal; and the writer himself concedes it, if he
-understands the force of the terms he uses. He confesses that a
-man, after due investigation, with all the helps he can derive
-from the Holy Scriptures and the Spirit, cannot be certain of
-arriving at absolute truth&mdash;that is, at truth at all; he can only
-arrive at what is true and right for him, though it may not be so
-for any one else. At best, then, he attains only to the relative,
-and no man can stand on the relative, for the relative itself
-cannot stand except in the absolute.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219">{219}</a></span>
-His whole doctrine amounts simply to this: What I honestly and
-conscientiously think is true and right, is true and right for
-me; that is, I may follow what I think is true and right with a
-safe conscience: but whether I think right or wrong; in
-accordance with the objective reality or not, I do not and cannot
-know. What is this but saying that infallibility is both
-impossible and unnecessary? Relying on what is inside of the
-soul, then, without any authority outside of it, we cannot attain
-to that certainty the writer began by affirming to be necessary,
-and craved by the soul; and which he proposed to show us could be
-had without the pope. All the writer does, is to show us that
-without the infallibility of the pope or church, we cannot have
-infallible faith; and to attempt to prove that we do not need it,
-and can do very well without it. What does he establish, then,
-but what Catholics have always told him, that there is no
-alternative but pope or no infallibility? He says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "We are even prepared to go so far as to claim that, as human
-  nature has been divinely constituted, it is a psychological
-  impossibility for any man to waive this prerogative of being
-  the <i>supreme authority</i> over himself in regard to his
-  religion; for if he decides to accept the pope and his dictum
-  as conveying to him the sure will of God, that infallibility
-  can only be received as such by an express volition of his own
-  thus to receive it; that is, the man infallible stands behind
-  the pope infallible, and decrees that he shall become to him an
-  infallible pope; so that all the infallibility which the pope
-  can have is just only what the man had before, and gives to him
-  by his volition."
-</p>
-<p>
-In this it is not only conceded that the internal, as we have
-seen, does not give infallibility, but asserted that man is so
-constituted that he is incapable of having an infallible faith.
-Consequently, there can be no infallible teaching. It goes
-farther, and denies the supreme authority of God in matters of
-religion; and, like all error, puts man in the place of God. It
-says: "It is a psychological impossibility for any man to waive
-his prerogative of being the supreme authority over himself in
-regard to his religion." This is the necessary conclusion from
-the writer's assumption in the outset, that the infallible
-authority is inside the soul, not outside of it; therefore,
-purely subjective and human. Consequently, man is his own law,
-his own sovereign; therefore independent of God, and the author
-and finisher of his own faith. This is pretty well for a
-Calvinist, and the organ of New England Puritanism! But we
-charitably trust that the writer hardly understands the reach of
-what he says. He confounds the action or office of reason in
-receiving the faith, or the internal act of believing, with the
-authority on which one believes, or on which the faith is
-received. The act is the act of the rational subject, and
-therefore internal. The authority on which the act is elicited is
-accredited to the subject, and therefore necessarily objective or
-external. I believe on testimony which comes to me from without,
-or a fact or an event duly accredited to me. I believe the
-messenger from God duly accredited to me as his messenger,
-although he announces to me things far above my own personal
-knowledge, and even mysteries which my reason is utterly unable
-to comprehend. Hence, Christians believe the mysteries recorded
-in the Holy Scriptures, because recorded by men duly instructed
-and authorized by God himself to teach in his name.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Puritan writer will hardly deny that St. Peter was a duly
-accredited apostle of our Lord, and therefore, that what he
-declares to be the Word of God is the Word of God, and therefore
-true, since God is truth itself.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220">{220}</a></span>
-Suppose, then, the pope to be duly accredited to us as the
-divinely authorized and divinely assisted teacher and interpreter
-of the teaching of our Lord, whether in person or by the mouth of
-the apostles, would reason find any greater difficulty in
-believing him than in believing St. Peter himself? Of course not.
-Now, Catholics look upon the pope as the successor or the
-continuator of Peter, and therefore as teaching with precisely
-the same apostolic authority with which Peter himself would teach
-if he were personally present. It is not more difficult to prove
-that the pope succeeds to Peter than it is to prove that Peter
-was an apostle of our Lord, and taught by his divine authority.
-The same kind of evidence that suffices to prove the one suffices
-to prove the other. Suppose it proved, should we not then have an
-infallible authority for faith other than that which is inside
-the soul? Should we not be bound by reason itself to believe
-whatever, in the case supposed, the pope should declare to be
-"the faith once delivered to the saints"?
-</p>
-<p>
-Our Puritan psychologist, and Protestants very generally, contend
-that, since the authority of the pope is accredited to reason,
-and we by reason judge of the credentials, therefore we have in
-the pope only the authority of our own reason. This is a mistake.
-We might as well argue that an ambassador accredited to a foreign
-court can speak only by authority of the court to which he is
-accredited, since it judges of the sufficiency of the credentials
-he presents, and not at all by the authority of the court that
-sends him. This would be simply absurd. The ambassador represents
-the sovereign that sends him, not the sovereign to whom he is
-sent or accredited. The credentials of the pope are presented to
-our judgment, but what the pope, the accredited ambassador from
-God, announces as the will of his sovereign and ours, must be
-taken not on the authority of our own judgment, but on the
-authority of the ambassador. The pope is not, indeed,
-commissioned to reveal the truth, for the revelation is already
-made by our Lord and his apostles, and deposited with the church.
-The pope simply teaches what is the faith so revealed and
-deposited, and settles controversies respecting it. Our own
-reason, operating on the facts of the case, judges the
-credentials of the pope or the evidences of his divine
-commission, but not of the revelation to which he bears witness.
-The fact that God has revealed and deposited with the church what
-the pope declares God has so revealed and deposited, we take on
-his authority. It is a mistake, then, to say that there can be no
-authority in faith or religion but the authority which every man
-has even of himself. To deny it is simply to deny the ability of
-God to make us a revelation through inspired messengers, or
-otherwise than through our natural reason.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is equally a mistake to suppose that belief or an external
-infallible authority is simply a volition or an act of the will,
-without any intellectual assent. We might as well argue that the
-credit a jury yields to the testimony of a competent and credible
-witness is simply a volition without any conviction of the
-understanding. Infallible authority convinces the understanding
-as well as moves the will. We do not believe the revealed truth
-on the authority of the pope; we believe it on the word of God,
-who can neither deceive nor be deceived; but we believe on the
-authority of the pope or church the fact that God has revealed
-it. The church or the pope is not authority for the truth of what
-is revealed&mdash;for God's word suffices for that; and we believe it
-on his veracity&mdash;but is the infallible witness of the fact that
-God has revealed or said it.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221">{221}</a></span>
-If God has made a revelation of supernatural truth, as all
-Christians hold, the fact that he has made it, since it
-confessedly is not made to us individually, must be received by
-us, if at all, on the testimony of a witness. This is what is
-meant by believing on authority. If we believe the fact at all,
-we must believe it either on some authority or on no authority.
-If on no authority, we have no reason for believing it, and our
-belief is groundless. If on some authority, then either on a
-fallible or an infallible authority. A fallible authority is no
-authority for faith. Then an infallible authority, and as the
-authority must be duly accredited to us&mdash;therefore, be itself
-outside of us&mdash;it must be an infallible external authority. The
-Puritan journal should therefore have headed its article, not
-Pope or People, but, Pope or no Faith. Without the infallible
-authority or witness, we may have opinions, conjectures, guesses,
-more or less probable, but not faith, which excludes doubt, and
-is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things
-not seen. The Puritan is able, but has not mastered his subject.
-There are many things for him yet to learn.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have called attention to the article we have reviewed, as one
-of the signs of what is going on in the Protestant evangelical
-world. It is beginning to learn that there is no resting in the
-infallible Book without an infallible interpreter. It begins to
-see that it has therefore no authority for dogmas, and it is
-gradually giving them the go-by. Dogmas discarded, Christianity,
-as a revelation of mysteries or of truth for the intellect, goes
-with them, and Christianity becomes a truth only for the heart
-and conscience. Then it is resolved into love, and love without
-understanding, therefore a sentimental love, and, with the more
-advanced party, purely sensual love. This is whither
-Protestantism is undeniably tending, and well may Dr. Ewer say
-that, as a system of religion, it has proved a failure. It has
-lost the church, lost practically the Bible, lost faith, lost
-doctrine, lost charity, lost spirituality, fallen into a sickly
-sentimentalism, and is plunging into gross sensuality. Here
-endeth the "glorious reformation."
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-       <h3>Translated From The German<br>
-        By Richard Storrs Willis.</h3>
-<br>
-          <h2>Emily Linder.</h2>
-<br>
-        <h3>II.&mdash;Her Conversion.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-We are now arrived at the most important period of her life. Miss
-Linder often referred with thankful heart to God's guiding
-providence; and in the steady progress of her spiritual life thus
-far is this not to be mistaken. Naturally religious, and inspired
-with an unaffected yearning for the entire truth, she was happily
-conducted into a circle of friends where her dawning faith
-received both impulse and guidance. Exterior incidents
-strengthened a certain interior magnetic bias. Since the day
-which rendered Assisi so dear to her, an invisible power had
-drawn her toward the visible church, and her leaning to
-Catholicity was imperceptibly strengthened.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222">{222}</a></span>
-Her activity in art deepened her sympathies with a church in
-which art finds its true place and consecration. An intellectual
-intercourse of many years with friendly Catholic men and families
-could not fail to remove many a prejudice. Thus had an unexpected
-but powerful combination of circumstances conspired to lead a
-mind ingenuously seeking the truth to Catholicity. It would be
-quite a mistake, however, to suppose, as has been thought by
-some, that the personal influence of any friend whatever had
-worked decisively upon her determination to take the final step.
-No one could do this; not even Brentano, strong as was his
-interest in her spiritual life.
-</p>
-<p>
-Clemens Brentano had come to Munich in October, 1833, and made
-his domestic arrangements in his usual characteristic style at
-Professor Schlotthauer's, "in one of the most pious and genial of
-Noah's arks," as he facetiously describes it. His associations
-led him into the same social circle in which Miss Linder moved,
-and soon after his arrival he made her acquaintance. Her pious
-earnestness, her cultivated, artistic nature, her charming and
-judicious benevolence, enchained his interest; and he believed,
-as is stated in his biography, to have found in her just the
-nature for the Catholic faith. One knows with what strength and
-zeal Brentano devoted himself (and in increasing ratio with
-increasing years) to such friends as were dear to him in the
-matter, particularly, of their acquaintance with the faith of his
-own church, and their participation in her blessings. His
-animated desire to instruct, which was ever without affectation
-or concealment, expressed itself in just such cases with the
-utmost freedom and frankness. Whoever reads that clever letter,
-"To a Lady Friend," written during these years at Munich, can
-tolerably well judge of the tone and style with which he brought
-home to a pious Protestant the warmth and depth of his religious
-convictions.
-</p>
-<p>
-Certain is it that Miss Linder gained, through Brentano, a deep
-insight into the inner life of the church and the hidden graces
-and forces which stream through her. He had the power, as she
-said, "of making some things intelligible which might otherwise
-remain for ever closed to one." The life and the visions of
-Katharina Emmerich, which he read aloud on her weekly
-reading-evenings, made a profound impression upon her. As though
-in confirmation of what she heard, she saw with her own eyes at
-Kaldern a similar phenomenon in Maria von Mörl, that astounding
-living wonder, and was penetrated with the atmosphere of truth
-with which, as Gorres expresses it, Maria von Mörl seemed
-enveloped. She caused a portrait of this phenomenon to be
-executed by her lady friend, Ellenrieder; and always gladly gave
-her visitors (as is stated by Emma Niendorf) a full description
-of the <i>stigimated</i>, just as Brentano was wont to do in his
-letters. In this, as in other ways, was her intercourse with
-Brentano of service to her. To many an outwork of knowledge did
-he build a bridge, a <i>pontifex maximus</i>, as he once
-jestingly applied the term to himself. Finally, his own Christian
-death made a profound and lasting impression upon her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Any other influence than mild, patient instruction was, once for
-all, excluded by her. Even the holiest zeal, if it sought, in any
-way, to crowd in upon her, could only force a nature like hers
-into antagonism, and check everything like quiet development.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223">{223}</a></span>
-With all her humility, this lady possessed the self-reliance and
-genuine independence of a Swiss. She sought the way of truth with
-such deep longing that she willingly accepted guidance; but with
-such severe scrutiny, that she was not to be confused, and was
-inaccessible to every kind of coaxing from any side. For, from
-the quarter of her old theological standpoint there was no lack
-of friendly advice, or of opinions bringing great weight with
-them,&mdash;supposing that mere human opinions could ever have decided
-such a question. Even raillery was not lacking. Platen gave his
-particular attention to this kind of weapon, and put himself to
-no little trouble to ridicule her out of her Catholic
-proclivities. The theological tendency she had taken since the
-days passed at Sorrento had become to the poet of the
-<i>Abassiden</i> altogether "too romantic," and he hoped to cool
-her religious zeal with a cold irony. Thus, he once satirically
-addressed himself to her from Florence, (February 24th, 1835,)
-"Might one be so bold as to enquire what progress you have made
-in your conversion to the only saving church; or is this a
-secret? In case of a change of religion, I trust you will follow
-the advice of a friend, and turn, rather, to the Greek Church.
-For, if you prize Catholicism on account of its antiquity, the
-Greek Church is doubtless older. And is it the ceremonial which
-particularly attracts you; then here, too, is the Greek service
-far more aesthetic and imposing." Count Platen doubtless felt
-that in a theological controversy he was no match for his
-well-informed friend; and therefore, in his letters he appealed
-to her as an artiste. True, the barrenness of Protestantism in
-art he quietly admitted; but all the better success he promised
-himself in an attempt to belittle the merit of the church in the
-field of art by certain cunning sophistries. In several of his
-letters he stumbled upon the neither very bright nor novel idea
-of presenting the church as at an obsolete standpoint.
-"Certainly," he admonishes the artist, "Catholicity, as a thing
-of a former age, is highly to be esteemed, but not for the
-present. Her time is past, even for art. Perhaps by and by an
-artera may dawn upon her, but this will be of a purely aesthetic
-nature; for a blending of art with religion is no longer among
-the possibilities," etc. The thought that his friend, after all,
-might take some such fatal step evidently gave the poet much
-uneasiness; for even in his last letter to her, written but two
-weeks before his death, he makes another attempt at the same
-style of argument. It is contained in a description of Palermo,
-written at Naples, September 7th, 1835: "I received your welcome
-letter shortly after my return from Calabria. I know not how my
-mother could write you that Palermo did not please me; or, if so,
-to what extent this was the case. I simply remember saying that
-the location of Palermo bore no comparison with that of Naples.
-There are certainly lacking the islands, Vesuvius, and the coast
-of Sorrento; although the mountain background of Palermo is very
-beautiful. The Rogers chapel, there, is something that would
-please you&mdash;a church of the twelfth century, in perfect
-preservation; its style that of the old Venetian and Roman
-churches; and although of smaller dimensions, yet the finest of
-them all. It is the more interesting to attend a service there,
-because one sees that Catholic culture was calculated solely for
-the Byzantine style of architecture; for with such surroundings,
-only, could it be effective. Thus does Catholicity, even as to
-architecture, prove itself a thing of the past."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224">{224}</a></span>
-<p>
-Enough of this. Such platitudes as these were not calculated to
-entangle a nature far too deep for them, or check the development
-of a work so earnestly undertaken. Emily Linder well knew that
-the church has already outlived many just such "obsolete
-standpoints," and many such prophets of evil, who have mistaken
-their wishes for reality, and phrases for axioms. How dignified
-and how welcome, in comparison with this sophistry from Naples,
-must have seemed to her the greeting of an old friend and art
-companion addressed to her from Rome, in the spring of 1833: "Be
-assured that I often fervently remember you to our Lord. Do you
-the same by me. May a holy unrest and impatience fill us to take
-'by violence' the kingdom of heaven!"
-</p>
-<p>
-This holy unrest had indeed for some time possessed her, and on
-many an occasion broke forth in expressions of touching and
-yearning expectancy. While viewing the cathedral of Cologne, in
-the year 1835, she ardently exclaims, "Ah! of a certainty an age
-whose lofty inspirations (and of no transient kind) could produce
-such monuments as this, deserved neither the epithet of rude nor
-dark. There resided in it a light which we, with our (gas!)
-illumination, could never produce." Again, as to the interior of
-the grand cathedral&mdash;"I know not why, but I cannot repress my
-tears. An irrepressible melancholy and yearning seizes me here."
-The same year, after viewing with Schubert the minster at Ulm,
-she makes this noteworthy observation in her journal, "It almost
-pained me that the old cathedral is no longer used for Catholic
-service, and that the choir and sanctuary are now so desolate."
-Already had she adopted many Catholic views. At an early period
-she believed in an active sympathy between this and the other
-world, and a purification of the soul in that world. The church's
-benediction was highly prized by her; for which reason, even as
-Protestant, she was in the habit of bearing about with her on her
-travels a little flask of holy water. Many of her views were as
-yet very undecided; but strong and irrepressible was her longing
-for that truth which should bring her peace. This clung by her in
-all her wanderings, and often drew from her a deep cry of the
-heart. The notes which she made during a trip to Holland, in
-company with Schubert, in the year 1835, closed with the
-following words, "These lonely days of travel have left me much
-time for meditation. To-day a crowd of thoughts and emotions
-fairly thronged upon me. I said to myself, To what purpose all
-this? Whither is this invisible power impelling us? Are we really
-advanced by it, or made the happier? Often this affluence of
-emotion rises to a kind of transport; then, again, it turns to
-pain, for I know not the why nor the whither. Is there a
-connectedness in all this? Is it enduring? Once more, then, why?
-During this journey of mine I have often prayed, O Lord, let me
-know thy will. Let me follow the path which is pleasing to thee.
-Lead me but to thyself, and in any way thou mayst choose. Let it
-become clear what thou really desirest of me. By this means I
-experienced great relief, and also the certainty that He, who
-with such signal fidelity had thus far led me, would clearly make
-known to me his will, would guide me into his paths."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225">{225}</a></span>
-<p>
-As the interior movement increased, she was impelled to confer
-with intelligent friends in the distance concerning this most
-momentous interest of her life. Especially with Overbeck there
-ensued a correspondence which, continuing for years, was of great
-assistance in attaining to religious clearness. Overbeck took
-kindest interest in her doubts and scruples. He had formerly gone
-over the same ground, and could therefore confer with her about
-such matters "as a brother." His letters grew into a connected
-vindication of Catholic doctrine, and the truth and beauty of the
-church, expressed in the mild, clear, fervent, and touching
-language of one equally worthy of respect as man and artist. With
-a nature like Overbeck's, where the man and the artist are not
-two distinct individualities, but are united in a higher form
-&mdash;Christianity&mdash;words have a more elevated significance; and a
-correspondence with him must have necessarily possessed an import
-more than usually edifying. Emily Linder deeply felt this. We
-take her own testimony when we say that Overbeck's letters
-contributed largely toward her religious development; and, by the
-overwhelming conviction of his words, no less than by his own
-deep spirituality, she attained to a knowledge of very vital
-truths. She viewed the assistance he rendered her in the light of
-a perpetual obligation; and in later years, long after she became
-a Catholic, she breathed, in her letters to the admirable master,
-a "God reward you for it."
-</p>
-<p>
-Meantime, however, she had to pass through many a severe
-struggle. The wrestling and testing which her conscientiousness
-imposed upon her was of long continuance. The dread of a hasty
-step which might afterward plunge her into the deepest unrest,
-caused her to advance but cautiously. Her mental vacillation
-continued for quite a period, during which she was filled with
-unsatisfied spiritual yearnings. She stood just on the portal of
-the church, afraid to enter. Many a prayer, far and near,
-ascended in her behalf to heaven. Brentano lived not to witness
-the conversion he so longed for. But the hope which gladdened his
-last days attained a realization the year after his death.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1842, she wrote to an artist friend in Frankfort, "I am fully
-satisfied that I entertain no prejudices, and honestly wish to
-know God's will. He has already cleared away many a spiritual
-obstacle, and transformed much within me. When it is his holy
-will to lead me into the church, I am confident that he will
-remove every remaining hinderance to my conviction." She thought,
-however, that the church did not give Protestants a very easy
-time. Their acceptance of the Tridentine confession of faith was
-a hard matter. Still, her mind had already attained to such
-clearness that she now desired the instruction of some competent
-priest. Through the instrumentality of Diepenbrock, a theological
-teacher was brought to her, who gained her confidence. She
-earnestly began her task, zealously and perseveringly devoting to
-it several hours a week for an entire year. The structure of
-Catholic faith began to open itself to her now with all its
-interior consistency and harmony. One scruple after another
-vanished, including those which finally troubled her; as, for
-instance, the expression, "Mother of God;" the alleged mutilation
-of the holy sacrament, by withdrawal of the cup from the laity,
-etc. In the words of her spiritual guide, she learned to
-distinguish that which is divine, and essential, and immutable in
-the church, from that which is human, and incidental, and
-mutable; and what had hitherto proved an insurmountable obstacle,
-the seemingly mechanical, and often rude devotions of the common
-people, as also the worldly splendor of the hierarchy&mdash;this
-ceased to trouble her more.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226">{226}</a></span>
-<p>
-In the autumn of 1843, Miss Linder made another tour to the Tyrol
-and Upper Italy, and few could surmise that she was so near to
-the decisive step. She writes from Munich, on the 16th of
-October, "I have just made with the Schuberts a somewhat
-fatiguing trip as far as Verona, where, by the way, I had almost
-come to a standstill, to copy a picture there. We then remained
-for a couple of weeks in Botzen, where all was so quiet, and
-reposeful, and secluded, that it was right grateful to me." Amid
-this stillness and seclusion to which she abandoned herself,
-still more than in Munich, was finally brought to maturity "the
-great work of redemption."
-</p>
-<p>
-Toward the end of November, 1843, on the approach of Advent,
-there burst upon her spiritual life a new era, and her long
-suspense and yearning resolved itself into the cry, "I will enter
-the church!" The final word of decision was immediately winged to
-heaven on a prayer. Upon the threshold of that expectant season,
-when the church sings, "Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above,
-and let the clouds rain the just," she participated, one morning,
-with the most ardent devotion, in a low mass celebrated in
-conformity with her intention. This was the decisive hour. She
-left the chapel with the joyous and unalterable resolve to enter
-into fellowship with the Catholic Church. All was overcome, aided
-and enlightened by the grace of God. Standing before her little
-house altar, she rehearsed, for the first time, the Catholic
-creed.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first to whom the glad intelligence flew was a noble pair,
-Apollonia Diepenbrock and her brother, the latter of whom was
-subsequently the celebrated cardinal and bishop of Breslau, but
-at that time, the vicar-general of Regensburg. Both were
-associated with the pious artiste in a friendship of many years,
-and had been long familiar with the course of her religious
-development. Melchior von Diepenbrock, during just this last
-period, had been a faithful and intelligent adviser to her. The
-disciple of Sailers responded to the joyous intelligence with a
-peace-greeting befitting a shepherd of the church. He wrote on
-the 29th of November, 1843:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Hindered by very unwelcome business, I was unable, either
-  yesterday or the day before, to express my heartfelt sympathy
-  and delight over the surprising intelligence of your note of
-  Saturday. Surprising, because I had not anticipated so sudden a
-  loosening of the fruit, ripe as it was. But the wind 'which
-  bloweth where it listeth,' stirred the tree, and the ripe,
-  mellow fruit fell into the lap of the true mother, where it
-  will now be well cared for, growing mellower and sweeter until
-  the coming of the Bridegroom. My hope and prayer for you now
-  is, that peace and rest may be yours after a suspense and
-  unrest which has thus loosed itself in the simple and welcome
-  words,'I will enter the church.' But you have every reason to
-  be at rest; for a church which has given birth to a Wittman, a
-  Sailer, a Fénélon, a Vincent de Paul, a Tauler, a Suso, a
-  Thérèse, a Bernard, an Augustine, an Athanasius, a Polycarp,
-  and so on, up to the apostles themselves, and which has nursed
-  them on her breast with the self-same heavenly doctrine; from
-  whose mouth and from whose life, in turn, this same identical
-  doctrine has been breathed down like a fragrant aroma, through
-  a course of eighteen hundred years; in such a church is there
-  safe and good travelling companionship for heaven. Following
-  their guidance, you need not fear going astray. I therefore,
-  from my very soul, bid you welcome to this noble company to
-  which you have long since, through your intense yearning, and
-  by anticipation, belonged, but now have identified yourself
-  with openly, by a grasp of the hand and a kiss of
-  reconciliation; with whom you will soon fully and finally be
-  incorporated by that most sacred seal and covenant, that
-  highest consecration of love, the holy Eucharist. You have had
-  a rough and thorny path to travel, and passed through long
-  years of struggle, doubt, and conflict, to arrive at this goal.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227">{227}</a></span>
-  Bind, now, the olive wreath of peace coolingly around your
-  heated temples. Let all labor of the brain, all strain of the
-  intellect, now subside. Live a life of tranquillity. Open your
-  heart to a reception of the holy gifts which the church, as you
-  enter, proffers you. And above all, banish all anxiety and
-  doubt, for therewith you gain nothing, and spoil all. Let your
-  barque, wafted by the breath of God, glide peacefully down the
-  broad stream of the church's life. Revel in the stars, and the
-  flowers which mirror themselves therein, the denizens that
-  disport there; and, should now and then an uncouth, repulsive
-  creature catch your eye, reflect that the kingdom of God is
-  still entangled in the contradictions of developement. Think
-  upon that great world-net which gathers souls of every
-  description, and upon the angel who, upon the great day, will
-  separate them all. And now I commend you to God. Once more, may
-  peace and joy in the Holy Ghost be your morning-gift."
-</p>
-<p>
-And soon this "morning-gift" possessed her soul. Being fully
-prepared, her admission, as she had wished, could be immediate.
-But she desired to take the step in all quietness, and only a few
-of her friends, like Professor Haneberg and Phillips, were
-informed of it the evening before, she desiring to secure for
-herself their prayers.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the 4th of December, 1843, Emily Linder, accompanied by her
-friend Apollonia, in the Georgian Seminary chapel made solemn
-profession of the Catholic faith. On the day following, the papal
-nuncio, Viale Prelà, administered to her, in his house-chapel the
-sacrament of confirmation; delivering, at the same time, an
-eloquent address in German. The friend before mentioned was
-godmother, and, as one present remarked, by her faith, her love,
-her prayers, and her efforts, she had indeed proved her spiritual
-mother. In company with this friend, she went to Regensburg, in
-order to withdraw into retirement, and to be alone with her
-new-born joy.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her letters during this period give animated testimony to what
-extent, and with what daily increase, this joy was experienced. A
-jubilant rapture pervades the letters which announce the event to
-distant friends, particularly those addressed to Overbeck in Rome
-and Steinle in Frankfort; both friends and companions in art.
-These and a few others had been admitted to her confidence in
-spiritual matters. To the latter, whom, of her younger friends,
-she particularly prized and respected, she thus announces the
-circumstance, "This time I come to you with but few words; words
-no longer conditional, but right conclusive. I am a Catholic.
-Could I have written to you, as I wished, to ask your prayers for
-me before the eventful hour, even then you might have been taken
-by surprise; but now the news has doubtless reached you from
-Munich, and I write this letter simply as confirmation, and
-because I wish that you should be informed of it by me
-personally. You have lately hardly thought, I suppose, that it
-would come so soon; and yet I was long prepared for it. After
-many a struggle, particularly of late, it had become to me a
-positive necessity, a natural and necessary development of my
-spiritual life. When I had once announced my determination to the
-clergyman who for some time had been instructing me, my desire
-was to take the step right quickly. My good Apollonia left
-Regensburg immediately for Munich, to be present at my reception
-into the church; and the day following this I was confirmed. I
-have now accompanied my friend hither to escape from all
-excitement and pass some days in retirement; needed opportunity
-of fortifying myself against much that must necescessarily come,
-that is hard and disagreeable.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228">{228}</a></span>
-Yet has God been inexpressibly kind and gentle in his dealings
-with me thus far."
-</p>
-<p>
-A letter to the same friend on the 19th of January thus reads:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "My last letter was very, very brief; but the glad tidings had
-  to come first, and for this few words were needed. But now six
-  weeks have flown, and it may give you pleasure to hear that I
-  am daily newly bleat, newly affected by the great goodness of
-  God. You may not have doubted this, yet you may be glad to be
-  assured of it, having always taken such interest in my welfare.
-  Ah dear Steinle! how sweet, how sweet a thing to be in the
-  church! I ask myself every day, Why then, I? Why just to myself
-  has this grace been vouchsafed, in preference to others so much
-  worthier of it? How can this have come about? For no other
-  reason, surely, than because so many faithful souls living
-  close to God, have interceded, so untiringly interceded for me,
-  that God could not resist their importunity. How often, how
-  very often must I exclaim, as you have done, God be praised and
-  extolled for ever. Now for the first time do I understand that
-  deep longing and incessant yearning of the heart. Oh! would
-  that all, all were in God's one, great house; would that all
-  could experience the friendliness, the inexpressible
-  friendliness of the Lord, he whose mercy transcends all
-  understanding and conception. Ah dear friend! supplicate and
-  implore God for me, that this grace&mdash;I will not say may be
-  deserved, how could this ever be?&mdash;but that I may daily more
-  deeply comprehend and appreciate it, and that my life may
-  become one song of thankfulness and benediction. I am still
-  like a happy little child at rest in the lap of its mother. The
-  cross will yet come, and perhaps must necessarily do so; yet am
-  I not dismayed; for well I know where, at any hour, courage,
-  and strength, and consolation are to be found.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Hitherto has God made it very easy to me. My sister&mdash;the only
-  one I have&mdash;was surprised and grieved at the first
-  intelligence; but rather, I think, from a loving dread that I
-  might be estranged from her. Now that she finds this is not the
-  case, I hear no complaint from her. My nieces and my intimate
-  friends at home are all unchanged. Just here, too, my friends
-  have remained the same; only two of my young lady acquaintances
-  thought it due to their religious convictions to break with me;
-  but lo! on New Year's day they both came and threw their arms
-  around my neck. &hellip; God be with us all! May he purify and
-  sanctify us and help us mature to life eternal. Once again,
-  pray to God for me. Join me in ascribing thanks to him for his
-  inexpressible goodness. With heartfelt friendship,
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                                   "Emily Linder."
-</p>
-<p>
-From this time forth Advent possessed for her a peculiarly
-festive significance. She celebrated each recurring anniversary
-with feelings of the humblest gratitude, making it a threefold
-festival, and greeting it with the joyousness and bliss of a
-child who had received on that day the costliest of gifts; for it
-was the anniversary of her day of final decision, her reception
-into the church, and her confirmation. On the 27th of December,
-1844, she thus writes again to the same friend:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Shall I attempt to depict to you the experience of my inner
-  life? Oh! it is ever yet to me, to use your own expression, the
-  pure mother-milk of inexpressible grace and goodness. Such, at
-  times, is the intensity of my joy, that it is as though I must
-  hold fast my heart with both hands. I have been celebrating of
-  late a great festivals of the soul; for at advent time I
-  entered the church, but included in my devotional intention,
-  also, was the celebration of my decision and confirmation; all
-  these were occasions of spiritual festivity. One entire year of
-  grace and blessedness! &hellip; The kind Tony F&mdash;&mdash; calls me 'the
-  pet-child of the Lord.' This may be so; but when I enquire,
-  Whence this to me? oh! then I must deeply, deeply bow myself,
-  and with profoundest shame can only still enquire of my Lord,
-  Whence this to. me? &hellip; Nor will I entertain forebodings for
-  the future. He who infuses such rapture into the heart,
-  can&mdash;yes, must&mdash;impart strength and courage, when he lays the
-  cross upon our shoulders. He will do it, too&mdash;benedictions on
-  his holy name!"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229">{229}</a></span>
-<p>
-How idle, now, appeared all the fears and anxiety as to a too
-hasty step, which had rendered her final decision so difficult,
-while still standing at the diverging pathways. Not a trace more
-of the unrest which had so troubled her. The morning-gift of
-peace and joy in faith, which Diepenbrock's kind wishes bespoke
-her, had become indeed her assured inheritance. A song of
-thankfulness warbled unceasingly in her heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-A few more expressions which escaped her, will show that the
-transport she experienced was not the effect of transient
-excitement. On one occasion she thus addresses a friend:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "You may be assured, of course, without written proof, that I
-  often think of you: but how often I breathe to you spiritually
-  my joy, my exceeding joy&mdash;do you know this? My heart often
-  sings like that of a little child before a Christmas-tree, over
-  the inexhaustible goodness of God, and knows not how it should
-  demean itself in the possession of such imperishable gifts. How
-  good, how very good has God been thus to call me into his holy
-  church!"
-</p>
-<p>
-On the recurrence of advent she writes again on the 8th of
-December, 1845, as to the celebration of this festive period of
-hers:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "During the past week I have been celebrating my apparently
-  quiet but really great and momentous festival, the anniversary
-  of my reception into the church. Ah! dear Steinle, what can I
-  say more than, Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is
-  within me bless his holy name! How inexpressibly great his
-  mercy and grace, how past all thinking and conceiving! &hellip; To
-  be safe-sheltered in the church in times like these, when no
-  hold and no firm footing outside of her can be found! Oh! if
-  our brethren but knew what peace is hers&mdash;if they could but
-  imagine what they are thrusting away from them! It is enough to
-  make one's heart bleed. But this I can assure them, that only
-  in the church can one really know her; only by living her life
-  can one understand that life. Outside of the church can one
-  learn much about her, of course, and to a certain extent inform
-  himself; but then, she is not only a something that <i>has</i>
-  been&mdash;an historical church&mdash;she is a present-existing, living
-  church, because Christ is still alive in her, and still active
-  in his work of reconciliation. Of such a church-life. we can
-  have no outside idea, just because we do not live it. How often
-  should I like to tell Clemens how it is with me now. But, God
-  willing, he surmises it and rejoices thereat. In all things be
-  praise to God!"
-</p>
-<p>
-In these words there rings out, certainly, the genuine, clear
-tone of a heart happy in its faith. Equally evident in these
-passages is the fact, that her personal relations with her
-Protestant friends and relatives knew no change. With a certain
-pious fidelity of friendship, which was peculiar to her, she
-sought to hold fast to the old ties which had become so dear, and
-always met her former companions in faith with the same simple,
-trusting affection. Cornelius, who welcomed her conversion with
-heartfelt interest, after his return from Rome writes to her from
-Berlin, on the 4th of June, 1844:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "In Rome I learned that you had at last fully <i>taken
-  heart.</i> It did not surprise me. God bless you, and protect
-  you hereafter both from spiritual pride and indifference."
-</p>
-<p>
-Certainly no one could less need this admonition than Emily
-Linder, who was a pattern of lowly humility. No one was more
-sweetly considerate and liberal than she; and Abbot Haneberg most
-justly remarked at her grave, that, after her conversion, she was
-scrupulous to discharge all the duties of friendship toward her
-former companions in faith, and never failed fully to appreciate
-all who proved worthy of her respect.
-</p>
-<p>
-This unchanging fidelity induced her to make a trip, the very
-summer after her conversion, to her native city of Basle, and to
-Lucerne, where resided other relatives of hers. A personal visit
-just at that time seems to her then more a duty than ever, in
-order that her relatives might have ocular evidence "that the
-Catholic Church is not an estranging one, and cherishes no
-feeling like that of hate."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230">{230}</a></span>
-This sentiment regulated her conduct throughout. A longing for a
-universal religious reunion strongly possessed her, and she was
-deeply grieved to see many honest Protestants standing so near
-Catholicity, who did not recognize "the historic church in the
-existing one," mainly (judging by her own experience) from a lack
-of proper information and from a certain shyness, which they
-could not explain even to themselves. "The emergency is great;
-souls are hungering and thirsting; but the more sensitive of the
-Protestants shrink from that shock to the feelings and social
-relations which they fear will ensue&mdash;a great mistake; for love
-will experience no diminution; it will be increased. But outside
-of the church they know nothing of this. Alas! how much do they
-not know!"
-</p>
-<p>
-This was written in 1846. Three years later she recurred again to
-her favorite idea in a charming letter addressed to Professor
-Steinle from Regensburg, on Ascension-day, May 17th, 1849:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "As I stood gazing at the people thronging up the steps and
-  through the grand old portals of our superb cathedral, my heart
-  was strangely moved. I saw in spirit the time when all people,
-  united again and happy, would stream with songs of hallelujah
-  through these portals and proclaim the wonderful works of God.
-  Could I but see this and then depart in peace! Such may not be
-  my lot, but in eternity the intelligence may yet reach me and
-  be a theme of thanksgiving to God."
-</p>
-<p>
-As though from her very childhood a member of the church, she
-felt from the first moment entirely at home in her precincts and
-in the blessed activity of her communion, becoming quickly and
-easily wonted to all Catholic practices, to which she gave
-herself up with all the intelligence and abandonment of her soul.
-How well she now appreciated the truth of the words addressed to
-her on joining the church by the noble Cardinal Diepenbrock, "You
-press now the ground which, not only Christ's own footsteps, but
-his very hands, betokened as the foundation of his church; which
-his spirit consecrated, which, his love hallowed: the soil whence
-all those vines should spring, which clinging around and
-clambering over his cross, may literally by and on him bear
-fruits of love, of humility, of fidelity, to all eternity!" And
-following his faithful precepts, she forthwith launched her
-barque, and, wafted by the breath of God, it glided peacefully
-over the broad stream of the church-life.
-</p>
-<p>
-Amid the deep peace which flowed in upon her, she now recommenced
-with fresh vigor her artistic occupations, devoting herself with
-more fervor than ever to religious painting. The forenoon was
-regularly passed at the easel. What a pleasure it must have been
-to her now to produce altar and other pictures for the house of
-the Lord! These she donated to poor churches, sending them
-sometimes to great distances, even to poor Catholic communities
-in Greece and Paris. Whenever a call for assistance reached her,
-according to her capacity she was ready with her offering. Her
-great industry in art enabled her to respond to numerous
-requests, and in the course of a long life she rendered many a
-poor parish happy, which would otherwise have been long compelled
-to dispense with churchly embellishment. Free from all artistic
-fastidiousness, she never disdained to make copies of other
-pictures. Thus with great interest and ability she made a copy of
-a picture by Overbeck, which she had in her collection, for the
-chapel of the Sisters of Mercy in Munich.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231">{231}</a></span>
-With a modest esteem for her own abilities, she always worked
-under the supervision of an old master, whose judgment never
-failed to have its weight with her. A deep and tender sensibility
-pervades her pictures; and if she betrays a certain timidity in
-the technical execution, there is evidence of great industry and
-attention to detail. One of her best works, perhaps, is a
-portrait of Brentano, an oil painting remarkable for likeness and
-spirituality of expression. After his death, she had this
-lithographed by Knauth, and copies struck off. It is given in the
-first volume of his complete works, and is accompanied by a verse
-which serves as a burthen to one of his most beautiful legends,
-as it might to the legend of his life, commencing,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "O star and flower, soul and clay,
-   Love, suffering, time, eternity."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The ancient and laudable habit among lovers of art to enrich, by
-special orders and purchases, their own homes&mdash;that noble
-privilege of educated wealth!&mdash;she practised to a lavish extent.
-Her collection of pictures embraced gradually works of the most
-eminent artists. Besides the masters already mentioned,
-(Overbeck, Cornelius, Eberhard,) Steinle was represented in a
-series of glorious creations. Several of these, like the
-"Manger-Festival of St. Francis," the "Legend of St. Marina,"
-were the source of some of Brentano's beautiful inspirations and
-are now included in his sacred poems. In addition to these
-artists were Schnorr, Schraudolph, Schwind, Führich, Neher,
-Eberle, Ahlborn, Koch, etc. In another respect, also, she
-approved herself a true artist, namely, by rendering constant
-assistance to such pupils of the distinguished masters with whom
-she was friendly, as gave evidence of talent. Her helping hand
-alone rendered, indeed, many an artistic undertaking possible;
-and not a few artists had occasion, in such instances, to admire
-not only the liberality but delicacy with which she dispensed
-orders and bore with trying delays. She exhibited an
-extraordinary degree of patience in the friendly manner with
-which she would conform herself to personal circumstances and
-private relations which did not at all concern her, even in cases
-of work delayed for years and paid for in advance. She would even
-heap coals of fire upon their heads by surprising them with
-further money advances&mdash;a charity which at times was exceedingly
-opportune. By this and similar methods Miss Linder, without any
-display, accomplished much good, and constantly experienced the
-pure pleasure of making others happy. And in yet another manner
-she showed a noble liberality. With rare unselfishness she would
-allow copies to be made and disseminated of the most valuable
-drawings in her collection, her own private property. She not
-only encouraged efforts of this kind, but sometimes at her own
-expense actually initiated them. By this multiplication of fine
-works of art she shared prominently in that noble task undertaken
-by Overbeck and his companions&mdash;the establishment of a more
-dignified and elevated art standard.
-</p>
-<p>
-True art seemed to assume with her, year by year, a graver
-aspect. In judging of a work, she deemed its intent just as
-important as its execution. She discerned in art a reflected
-radiance from the world of light: and all that did not tend
-upward to this she regarded as idle effort and labor lost. She
-observed with pain an increasing tendency to the material,
-particularly since the year 1850; and nothing more deeply
-incensed her than a demeaning of art to low and base uses.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232">{232}</a></span>
-Even in Munich, after Cornelius left and Louis. I. descended the
-throne, there existed no longer the ancient standard. What is now
-left of that school of sacred art, once blossoming out with such
-inspiriting vigor? It now leads the existence of a Cinderella.
-Even in the year 1850, Miss Linder remarked: "Our academy affords
-me no longer any very great pleasure: the period of love and
-inspiration has passed. Shall we ever see its return?"
-</p>
-<p>
-The gathering clouds in the political horizon and the disturbance
-of social relations were not encouraging to any hope like this.
-But at just such a time, when outside life was forbidding, she
-found how grateful a definite aim and mission may be, and
-experienced the quiet delight of art and art-occupation more than
-ever. She thus writes from Pöhl, a favorite resort of hers in
-summer, adjacent to the Ammersee, "I shall yet make a little tour
-in the Tyrol and then ensconce myself in winter quarters, where I
-shall be happy in a work already commenced and which will
-immediately engross me. It is a source of the greatest happiness
-in these days to have a given task. How much it enables one to
-get rid of!" On viewing Gallait's picture of "Egmont and Horn" in
-the exhibition, she remarked, "I should not care to own the
-picture, and yet there is much to admire in it. The sphere of art
-is so extensive and yet so limited&mdash;after all, one cannot but
-feel that everything not in God's service is, to say the least,
-superfluous."
-</p>
-<p>
-An evening quiet overspread her relations with the outside world.
-But uninterruptedly until her death she kept up, in her own home,
-the accustomed hospitality. Her house was always a central point
-of really good society. No literary or artistic celebrity could
-long tarry in Munich without an invitation to her table, around
-which every week a little circle was gathered. Privy-Counsellor
-von Ringseis usually acted as host, a man whose varied knowledge,
-ripe experience, and inexhaustible humor better befitted him than
-any other to blend the most opposite characteristics of the
-guests. With friends in the distance she maintained an extensive
-correspondence, and also cultivated her friendly relations with
-them by regular summer trips: a passion for travel and a love of
-nature remaining true to her into advanced old age.
-</p>
-<p>
-A nature so profound, so true, and so enlightened was constituted
-for friendship, and Emily Linder served as a model in this
-regard. She possessed those two qualities by which it is best
-retained&mdash;candor and disinterestedness. What she was capable of
-as to the latter quality has already been sufficiently shown. An
-open frankness was the groundwork of her character. She possessed
-a kind but impartial judgment, and in the right place she knew
-how to assert it. The same sincerity was expected of others, and
-nothing with her outweighed truthfulness. Whoever offended in
-this point came to conclusions with her speedily and once for
-all. A half-and-half sincerity or prevarication could force even
-her dovelike mildness to resentment. When called to pass judgment
-upon the work of a friendly artist, there arose a noble contest
-between frankness and kindness. Her opinions were always to the
-point, and by the soundness of her judgment she gave food for
-reflection. But in cases of a change of opinion after more mature
-consideration, she was quick to acknowledge herself at fault. A
-single incident may illustrate this. On occasion, of a defence,
-by an artist, of a celebrated master, to one of whose works she
-had taken exceptions, she replied:
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233">{233}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "My first judgment, then, was unquestionably hasty. But among
-  friends I shall never like that degree of caution always
-  insisted upon which admits of no quick and impulsive word; for
-  thus would all open-heartedness be repressed; a thing which no
-  amount of shrewdness or cool deliberation could ever replace. I
-  beg for myself the privilege therefore, hereafter, just as
-  often, and perhaps just as hastily, to express my opinion."
-</p>
-<p>
-She reposed the same confidence in the judgment of others. All
-the more weighty art matters about which she concerned herself
-were submitted to the counsel and decision of intelligent friends
-of art. She took the most lively interest, also, in every
-important event or crisis in the families of these friends. Her
-thoughtful consideration loved to express itself in pleasant
-souvenirs and playful surprises of gifts; and her fidelity often
-extended even to the departed. Many a friend, after having passed
-to a long home, was endowed with a memorial Mass which she
-established for the repose of his soul. The Klee and Möhler
-memorial, a composition of Steinle, copies of which she caused at
-her own expense to be made, she intended (an intention, indeed,
-never realized) as an aid to the establishment of a Klee and
-Möhler fund; and a lasting monument it would have proved to the
-memory of these two noble men. For any expression of fidelity
-toward herself she was deeply grateful; particularly in her more
-advanced years, after she became more and more aware how rare a
-thing is disinterested attachment in this age of unprincipled
-selfishness. "Any instance of loyal attachment," said she, "moves
-me the more deeply in these times, when truly it is no
-fashionable virtue."
-</p>
-<p>
-A special object of her loving thoughtfulness was her beloved
-Assisi, the little convent of the German sisters of St. Francis.
-In times of great distress, particularly during the ravages of
-the Revolution, it was no small consolation and delight to
-receive thence, after a long interval, reassuring intelligence.
-Particularly was this the case during the Mazzini terrorism of
-1849. In the autumn of this year, she announced to a friend, with
-something like motherly pride: "I have received tidings lately
-from our German nuns at Assisi. Appalling things have happened at
-Rome, and indications of the same have threatened elsewhere, even
-at Assisi. But the good women bravely set at naught all
-intimidation and threat, and have come out entirely unharmed.
-Yes, even the gangs themselves are reported to have said: One
-cannot get the better of these Germans, they pray too much. May
-we all of us lay hands upon the same trusty weapon!" The
-burgher-maiden whom she took with her as candidate to Assisi on
-her journey to Rome in 1829, has already been, for the last
-twenty-four years, Superior of the German convent; it so chanced
-that she attained to this position the very year that Emily
-Linder became a Catholic. During that time, more than twenty
-Bavarian maidens followed her to Assisi. If the gratitude of
-happy people, who praise God daily that they have found "the true
-ark of peace," ever proved a blessing, this blessing accrued, in
-rich measure, to the artist from Assisi. Her name is entered in
-the memorial book of the convent, and, so long as this spiritual
-order exists, she will live there as their "best benefactress,
-and as their dear, good mother in Christ." Thus is she spoken of
-in the numerous and touching letters of the pious sisters.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234">{234}</a></span>
-<p>
-Seldom has a human being made a more magnanimous use of a large
-income than the departed Emily Linder. Her benevolence was on a
-grand scale. Her whole nature was generosity itself; but that
-which at first was but natural good will to all became afterward,
-by the pious spirit which pervaded her, an element of her
-religious worship. She considered herself but as the almoner of
-the riches God had entrusted to her. Her goodness was of that
-serene character which never showed aught of impatience toward
-those begging or initiating charities. She gave to both with
-equal friendliness. She contributed lavishly to public
-institutions for the sick and suffering. And yet what she gave to
-the individual poor, and such special families as were commended
-to her, must also have been a very considerable sum. In these
-simpler distributions of charity she showed a marked delicacy.
-The modest poor who came to her house she never allowed to be
-waited on by her servants, but administered to their wants
-herself. In some instances she bore her gifts on certain
-specified days to their dwellings; and in these cases she was
-just as systematic, and as punctual to the day and the hour, as
-in all things else. Christmas in her house was a festival of the
-poor. The lines of Clemens Brentano in his collection of sacred
-poems, entitled <i>To the Benefactress, on the Occasion of her
-Presentation to the Poor</i>, refer to this incident. To what
-extent and in what instances she served as unknown guardian
-angel, her intimate friends rather guessed at than knew. The
-character of her benevolence, generally, was piously-noiseless
-and still. Through hidden channels she often reached far in the
-distance, sustaining and rescuing (both physically and
-spiritually) where the need was very urgent. Often, thus, a gift
-flowed forth from her and sped like a sunbeam into some
-languishing heart. Many an obstacle has she removed from the path
-of a struggling child of humanity; into many a stout but wounded
-spirit has she infused new life and energy. Clemens Brentano
-termed this a "heavenly little piece of strategy."
-</p>
-<p>
-This noiseless activity in art and benevolence did not withdraw
-her attention from what was going on outside, and although she
-never stepped beyond the natural boundaries of her position, and
-was of too quiet a nature to mingle generally in the strife of
-parties, she nevertheless, to the last year of her life,
-maintained a lively interest in all the great church and
-political questions of the day. The prodigious changes which took
-place in the world during the fourth period of her life, what
-heart would not have been profoundly stirred by them? But,
-however painful to her the prevailing Machiavelism of the age,
-the insanity of the revolutionary leaders, the pitiable confusion
-of the people, and the undermining of all conservative bulwarks
-in state and society, courage and hope still maintained the upper
-hand. The pressure upon the church and the Pope filled her
-perhaps with concern, but did not dismay her. She had the right
-standard, and the consolation which it brought, in judging of the
-destinies of the nations. When the revolutionary storms of 1848
-and 1849 burst upon them and swept over Germany and Italy, she
-remarked: "The experience of all history, and the consolation it
-imparts, is just this: God allows men their way to a certain
-point, and where the end seems just achieved. But then is
-inscribed with an almighty hand, the '<i>Thus far</i>.' And
-though his church be shaken, this is far better for us than to be
-reposing upon cushions of ease."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235">{235}</a></span>
-<p>
-Her confidence was similarly undisturbed during the succeeding
-momentous years. During her attendance upon the drama of <i>The
-Passion</i>, at Oberammergau, in the year 1860, she was occupied
-with reflections upon the stupendous drama of passion of our own
-times. "There is something so fearfully grand in the present
-events of the world," she wrote to her friend in Frankfort, "that
-a certain elevation fills the soul, raising one above this little
-life of ours upon earth. The image in our mind of the holy father
-is already so spiritualized that it begins to be invested with
-the sanctity of the martyr. How many may have to follow in his
-martyr footsteps? Shall we live to see the victory? At my time of
-life, no; and yet a secret joy often possesses me at the thought
-of this glorious era. But I say with you, the great task for us
-all is to gain heaven. God vouchsafe this!" The latest period of
-German distress she lived through with the intensest sympathy.
-She accepted the appalling catastrophe as a severe trial, even to
-her own personal feelings and hopes, and recognized in this
-calamity the initiation of a still greater. "For me," she wrote
-to the same friend, "the hope of any kind of a future is now
-past. I must subject my heart to no more disappointment; but the
-mercy of God for the individual is still attainable and great; to
-every one accessible and possible. You belong, of course, to the
-younger generation, and can still dream of a sunrise for our
-German fatherland. The result of the present calamity, swiftly as
-it may seem to be plunging us into irremediable ruin, will,
-nevertheless, never go the length intended by the Prince of Evil.
-God stands above him; that is certain. The future will be a
-different one; a very different one, from that which we could
-ever surmise or guess, even the future of the church. And this
-future will be God's. Let that content us."
-</p>
-<p>
-Her life was a bright contrast to the demoralization, the unrest,
-the arrogant selfishness of our age. She presented to those among
-whom she lived the picture of a self-sustained, unselfish,
-reposeful soul. Humility, trust in God, and compassion, this was
-the fundamental harmony of her daily life. Old age, which often,
-indeed, smooths away from the good all little imperfections and
-blemishes of character, rendered her still more considerate,
-patient, and gentle. Her love of simplicity was as great as were
-her means. In her own household, well systemized, careful
-economy; outside of this, severe, almost noticeable plainness.
-But to her applied the line of the poet:
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "A blessing she could see in lowliness to be."
-</p>
-<p>
-While denying herself, she gave with lavish hand to poverty and
-distress, to art and to the church. She moved with measured,
-dignified pace; but a certain religious harmony of action
-imparted to her being and doing an indescribable grace, which is
-always the accompaniment of inward purity, and a religion based
-upon humility.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Abbé Haneberg, in his beautiful tribute at her grave,
-remarked, "She seemed, during the last twenty years of her life,
-to emulate the most pious of her friends and daughters of Assisi,
-and to aim even to outdo them, so systematic and untiring was her
-service to God." Of this, however, her friends knew but little.
-How much she thus quietly accomplished was never fully known
-until after her death. It will suffice here to state that in the
-year 1851 she informed herself, through the Superior at Assisi,
-of their daily regulations, and the usual succession of religious
-exercises. Her everyday life was identified with the daily life
-of the church.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236">{236}</a></span>
-She appreciated the significant beauty and expressive symbolism
-of churchly ordinances, and in close observance joined in their
-celebration. To this end, she followed the <i>Ordo</i> of her
-diocese, and her favorite prayer-book was the Missal. Her
-knowledge of languages stood her in good stead here; for, in
-addition to the modern languages, she had also learned Latin, and
-had become sufficiently familiar with it to follow intelligently
-the language of the church. Cardinal Diepenbrock, in 1850, wrote
-to her of a lady who was occupying herself with the Latin, or
-church, language; "A worthy study," he remarked. "Have you not
-also begun it? It strikes me that Clemens was saying something
-about it. But perhaps you were able to get no farther than the
-<i>mensa</i>; the <i>mensa Domini</i> would naturally be enough
-for you." But she went farther than this. In her manuscripts were
-found Latin exercises, written under the guidance of the worthy
-old Bröber. One room of her spacious residence was arranged as a
-chapel, in which was the superb altar-piece by Eberhard, "The
-Triumph of the Church." This chapel was favored by the ordinariat
-with a Mass licence. On the anniversary of her union with the
-church she was accustomed to receive holy communion here; and
-here the departed Bishop Valentin, of Regensburg, once celebrated
-Mass. Here, also, she devoted daily a certain time to meditation
-and the perusal of the Holy Scriptures. Her favorite place of
-devotion, however, was the little chapel of the ducal hospital
-which she frequented twice a day; early in the morning, and again
-at evening. She had for years a quiet little place in the organ
-gallery where, day by day, in all weather, and at all seasons of
-the year, she consecrated a couple of hours to prayer.
-</p>
-<p>
-As the years flew by, she withdrew herself more and more from the
-world, and sought to be "hid in God." The departure to their
-final home of so many friends, together with other events, served
-as slight admonitions, which by her thoughtful heart were not
-unheeded. She recognized in this matter fresh cause of gratitude
-to God, who was dealing so tenderly with her to the very end. "I
-consider it," she wrote, "a special favor of the Lord that he
-grants me so long a preparation for my final hour." Years
-previously, she had put herself in Christian readiness for her
-last journey, and only hoped that it might prove "a good death
-hour." With customary precision, she had ordered all her temporal
-affairs. She had even made provision as to her interment, and the
-final burial service. Her arrangements for the latter of these,
-written in a bold and beautiful hand, were dated the 7th of
-October, 1865. On the festival of the Epiphany, 1867, she was for
-the last time in her favorite little chapel of the ducal
-hospital. Only a few weeks previously, she had begun to feel ill,
-and now symptoms of dropsy suddenly developed themselves. The
-invalid recognized her condition with Christian resignation, but
-did not yet relinquish hope of a recovery. "The task now is, to
-resign myself and to be patient. God help me to this," she wrote
-at the close of January. It was her last letter. Her friend
-Apollonia hastened from Regensburg, and she, who, twenty-three
-years before, had stood at her side when received into the
-church, was now to stand at her death-bed. The invalid requested
-that her friend should remain with her one week; and exactly at
-the close of the week she died. During her illness she found
-special consolation in the house-altar, where, to her great
-spiritual comfort, her worthy confessor repeatedly celebrated
-mass.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237">{237}</a></span>
-From this Eberhard altar, where she first made profession of
-Catholic faith and where she yearly commemorated that happy
-event, she now received the viaticum and extreme unction. In
-conformity with her wish, on the festival of St. Apollonia mass
-was again celebrated in her little chapel. It was her last mass,
-and the final union of the two friends in holy sacrament. She
-seemed now to rejoice in her approaching dissolution as though it
-were a return home. One morning as her priest entered, she
-stretched out her arms and exclaimed, "May I&mdash;oh! may I go home?"
-"Yes, the guardian angel accompanies you, he guides you thither,"
-was the reply. Thereupon she was silent, remained in deep
-meditation, and spoke but little after. Yet she seemed to
-participate in all that transpired; if prayer were uttered, she
-prayed also; to all who drew near she gave a friendly glance,
-but, for the most part, remained absorbed and still.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the day preceding her death, she summoned all her strength,
-and with difficult effort gave expression to several wishes, the
-last of her earthly life. She recalled an admirable artist, whom
-she held in high personal esteem, from whom she had long desired
-a picture as an addition to her collection. She directed a very
-considerable sum to be sent to him for a historical picture,
-which was now to be painted for the museum at Bale. The future of
-her poor, also, such as had been accustomed to receive little
-charities, engaged her thoughts; she desired that these charities
-should be continued until they had found other benefactors. Her
-last words were in allusion to Jerusalem. She bethought herself
-of the "Watchers at the Holy Sepulchre," (of the order of St.
-Francis,) and also of the "Zion Society," to both of which she
-had made yearly contributions, and which she now similarly
-remembered. Thus had her life its characteristic close. Her last
-mental activity was exercised in works of charity, of art, and of
-religion. With a glance at Jerusalem and the sepulchre of her
-Saviour, she now went forward toward the new Jerusalem. Her end
-was the falling asleep of a child. In the early morning of the
-12th of February, 1867, without a single death-struggle, she sank
-into slumber&mdash;quietly, painlessly, peacefully.
-</p>
-<p>
-A gentleman, intimately befriended with her, remarked, "After her
-death, I had occasion to observe the intense grief of those who
-had been recipients of her bounty, and then first became aware
-what a truly royal munificence had been hers, which all were
-ignorant of, save God and the poor." Such were the tears that
-followed her, together with those countless others, which during
-her life she had already dried.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the afternoon of the 14th of February a long funeral
-procession, composed of the best Catholic society of Munich, and
-throngs of the poor, together with the superintendent of public
-charities, (then represented by the mayor of the city,) moved
-from the pleasant mansion on the corner of Carl street toward the
-cemetery, to render their last homage to this noble friend of art
-and the poor. The Abbé Haneberg, an old friend of hers,
-pronounced the benediction of the church over her grave, which
-was located not far from the grave of Möhler.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238">{238}</a></span>
-In her written instructions, Emily Linder desired only a simple
-stone cross above her, the pedestal of the cross bearing the
-inscription:
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  The slumberer, here, confides in the mercy of God:
-</p>
-<p>
-the simplest, but in its simplicity, the most touching testimony
-to a being whose interior life was all humility and trust in God,
-and whose exterior activity had been the purest mercy itself. To
-her might be applied a verse of the beautiful requiem addressed
-by Brentano to another departed friend:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "He, for whom our willing gifts
-     On the needy we confer,
-   From his eight beatitudes
-     Singled Mercy out for her."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The whole spirit which accompanied her through a life of seventy
-years still lived on in her bequests. The half of her large
-fortune she left to benevolent and charitable objects; chiefly to
-schools and hospitals. True Swiss that she was, she was specially
-mindful of her native city. The largest amount donated&mdash;200,000
-florins&mdash;was bequeathed to the Bishop of Bale, for the benefit of
-his diocese. Her art-treasures were, with few exceptions,
-incorporated with the museum of Bale, to whose first
-establishment she had originally contributed no small amount, and
-which, with true patrician feeling, lavishly endowed during her
-life.
-</p>
-<p>
-In these bequests to art and to the church, Emily Linder reared
-for herself a monument which will keep her in blessed
-remembrance; and this monument is only the last milestone of
-record on the pathway of a life thickly studded with works of
-charity. Truly a significant, steadfast existence, harmonious
-from its commencement to its very close.
-</p>
-<p>
-In days of depression and perplexity would we gaze upon a
-portrait of true humanity, ennobled and enlightened by
-Christianity, (a portrait we might well present as a study to the
-young,) we may point with quiet confidence to the departed Emily
-Linder, and exclaim: Behold here a character noble, unselfish,
-and complete&mdash;a nature of rare purity and depth&mdash;a transparent
-and beautiful spirit, who verified her faith by her love.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-              <h2>The Irish Church Act Of 1869.</h2>
-<p class="cite">
-     "They" (the Anglican ministers of Ireland) "will not fleece
-     the sheep they cannot feed, and spend the spoils of a people
-     conquered, not won.&mdash;
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                        "<i>London Times</i>, March 4th, 1869.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-The measure for the disestablishment and disendowment of the
-English Church in Ireland, recently introduced by the English
-premier into the British Parliament, is one of the most startling
-and boldest steps which has yet been taken by that body to
-rectify the criminal blunders of three hundred years of mistaken
-legislation. Mr. Gladstone, in moving the first reading of the
-act, in a very long speech, evidently prepared with great care,
-while admitting it to be "the most grave and arduous work of
-legislature that ever has been laid before the House of Commons,"
-felt the necessity of cautiously and almost apologetically
-stating the case and explaining the views of those with whom he
-acted. Mr. Disraeli, the leader of the opposition, while agreeing
-with his distinguished successor in office in nothing else, was
-forced to allow the scheme to be "one of the most gigantic that
-had ever been brought before the house"&mdash;an opinion which,
-judging from the temper of all parties inside and outside of
-parliament, appears to be unanimously entertained.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239">{239}</a></span>
-<p>
-The friends of the act are numerous in England as well as in
-Ireland, embracing all the Catholic population and a very large
-portion of dissenting Protestants of more advanced and liberal
-views in both countries. The Catholics of Ireland see in it the
-destruction of that infamous system which has not only robbed
-them of their altars and the graves of their ancestors, but
-compelled them to support in idleness and luxury what even
-Disraeli himself long since denounced as "an alien church."
-Though the partial restitution contemplated at this late day by
-this act bears no corresponding comparison with the magnitude of
-the evils borne, it is still restitution, and a most significant
-and, in a sense, abject admission of the utter failure of the
-experiment of the English government to force Protestantism on an
-unwilling people. The successful passage of the act will also
-necessitate the expenditure of large sums of money for purely
-charitable purposes, and what, in a national sense, is of more
-importance, it will remove one of the most salient and fruitful
-causes of Irish discontent. But it is in England that the
-question assumes the most portentous magnitude; for it has become
-apparent to every one there that the fall of the Irish
-Establishment is but the first act in the drama of the total
-severance of church and state in the entire British empire. The
-entering wedge well driven home in Ireland, the results in other
-parts of the United Kingdom become merely a matter of time. Sir
-John Grey, one of the strongest supporters of Mr. Gladstone's
-bill, himself a Protestant, hints at this in an article in a late
-number of his paper, the Dublin <i>Freeman's Journal</i>, in
-which he says: "He (Gladstone) will soon have powerful
-auxiliaries in the English curates, and they have more influence
-in forming public opinion in England than the bench of bishops
-and the ten thousand incumbents. The Irish curates will be in Mr.
-Gladstone's favor, and if ever disestablishment should be the lot
-of England&mdash;<i>and he would be a rash politician who would
-negative such a proposition</i>&mdash;the English curates would have
-in Mr. Gladstone's Irish measure a precedent for an equal measure
-of justice to themselves."
-</p>
-<p>
-The opposition to the act comes in the first place from the whole
-body of Anglican bishops and clergymen in Ireland, if we except
-the Bishop of Down and a few badly paid curates who would benefit
-by its passage. The Orangemen, that most pestiferous of all
-social and political scourges, of course sustain their reverend
-friends, and their loyalty on this occasion has culminated in a
-remonstrance signed, it is said, by over two thousand noblemen
-and landed "gentry." Hostility to the policy foreshadowed by Mr.
-Gladstone was very active and virulent in England during the late
-elections, and is now exhibited in the Commons by a large and
-active tory minority. The English ecclesiastics have also taken
-up the cry with equal earnestness and scarcely less vehemence. At
-the last sitting of the New Convocation of Canterbury in London,
-an address to the queen in opposition to the provisions of the
-act was proposed and carried by the upper house, and upon being
-sent down to the lower house for adoption, the following and
-similar amendments were enthusiastically added:
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240">{240}</a></span>
-"Above all," say those reverend gentlemen, "we are constrained by
-our sense of duty to your majesty and to the Reformed Church of
-England and Ireland, humbly to represent to your majesty that
-disestablishment of the church in Ireland cannot be had without
-repudiation, on the part of the nation, of the necessity and
-value of the Reformation." This language is explicit and forcible
-enough, but the Synod of both Houses of Convocation of the
-Province of York, held on the same day, goes a little farther.
-"This convocation," they affirm, "view with sorrow and alarm the
-proposed attempt to disestablish and disendow the Irish branch of
-the United Church of England and Ireland, as seriously affecting
-the interests of the church in that part of the British
-dominions; as a fatal encroachment on the prerogatives of the
-crown; as unsettling the constitution of church and state
-guaranteed by engagements entered into by acts of union, and
-confirmed to members of the church by the solemn sanction of the
-coronation oath."
-</p>
-<p>
-That part of the coronation oath prescribed by the first William
-and Mary, chapter sixth, to which allusion is here made and which
-is the straw that the drowning Anglicans are endeavoring to
-grasp, reads as follows: "<i>Question:</i> Will you, to the
-utmost of your power, maintain the laws of God, the profession of
-the Gospel, and the Protestant Reformed Religion established by
-law? And will you preserve unto the bishops and clergy of this
-realm, and to the churches committed to their charge, all such
-rights and privileges as by law do or shall appertain unto them
-or any of them? <i>King and Queen</i>: All this I promise to do,
-(king and queen lay hands on the holy Gospel, saying,) so help me
-God." The condition of this solemn oath would at first sight
-appear to preclude the queen from signing the act, were we not
-assured by the confident tone, and even the express words, of Mr.
-Gladstone that her majesty's views were entirely in accord with
-those of her first minister, and in fact, that she had already
-placed in the hands of parliament her right of ecclesiastical
-appointments in Ireland.
-</p>
-<p>
-The history of the Irish Church Establishment, now happily about
-to disappear for ever, is so familiar to most intelligent readers
-that it requires but a passing notice. Since its birth at a
-so-called Irish parliament, summoned by Lord Grey in 1536, down
-to the present time, so unjust have been its proceedings, so
-rapacious its ministers, and so oppressive its exactions of an
-ill-governed and neglected people, with whom it never had the
-least sympathy, that Christendom has stood aghast in mingled
-wonder and disgust. Not only were the Catholics of Ireland
-despoiled of their churches, abbeys, and convents, the monuments
-of piety and learning and the dispensaries of Christian charity,
-reared by the hands of benevolent ancestors for over a thousand
-years, but the very humblest abodes of worship were handed over
-to a foreign clergy, preaching a new religion at the point of the
-sword, ignorant of the very language of the country, and by birth
-and training bitterly hostile to every interest, spiritual and
-temporal, of the people they were sent to teach. Nor was this
-all. The despoiled masses were compelled to pay, and still pay,
-for the support of this "alien" church a tithe on every foot of
-cultivated land in the kingdom, and upon the produce and stock
-derived from or raised on the same.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241">{241}</a></span>
-The amount of property thus filched from the overburdened farmers
-and peasantry of Ireland under color of law, and the additional
-<i>annual revenue</i> wrung from that half-famished nation, is
-thus estimated by no less an authority than the English premier:
-[Footnote 51]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 51: This, of course, is but a very small portion
-    indeed of the property taken from the Catholic Church in
-    Ireland under Henry VIII. and succeeding monarchs. Most of
-    the abbey lands were first vested in the crown and then
-    granted to courtiers and others at a nominal rent as the
-    reward of their apostasy. Many of the wealthiest families in
-    Ireland derive their titles to their lands from those acts of
-    spoliation.]
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The commissioners appointed in 1868 estimated the annual value
-  at £616,000, but, with all respect for their long labors, he
-  must differ from them, for they had placed it too low; for one
-  of their body, in a subsequent publication, estimates it at
-  £835,000, but for the present purpose he would take it at
-  £700,000. The capitalized amount was as follows:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>Tithe rent charge</td>	            <td>£9,000,000</td>	</tr>
-<tr><td>Land</td>	                        <td>£6,250,000</td>	</tr>
-<tr><td>Other property in money, etc.</td>	<td>£750,000</td>	</tr>
-<tr><td>Total</td>                          <td>£16,000,000</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p class="cite">
-  The result is that the whole value of the ecclesiastical
-  property of Ireland, reduced and cut down first of all by the
-  almost unbounded waste of life tenants, and secondly by the
-  wisdom or unwisdom of well-intentioned parliaments&mdash;the
-  remaining value is no less than £16,000,000 of money,
-  considerably more than on a former occasion I ventured to
-  estimate, but then my means of information were smaller than
-  they now are."
-</p>
-<p>
-From the contemplation of past injustice we can now turn with a
-sense of relief to the provisions of the act itself, and which,
-under such peculiar circumstances, are perhaps as wisely and
-judiciously framed as can be expected. On its passage it may be
-slightly altered in some of its minor details, but there is
-little room for doubt that the act substantially as first
-presented will become law.
-</p>
-<p>
-And first, those parts of the Acts of Union of the Irish and
-English parliaments, passed at the beginning of this century,
-permitting certain Irish bishops to sit <i>ex officio</i> as
-lords spiritual in the British House of Peers, and giving to the
-decrees, orders, and judgments of certain ecclesiastical courts
-in Ireland the force and authority of law in that part of the
-realm, are unconditionally repealed. The thirteenth section of
-the act prescribes: "On the 1st day of January, 1871, every
-ecclesiastical corporation in Ireland, whether sole or aggregate;
-every cathedral corporation in Ireland as defined by this act
-shall be dissolved, and on and after that day no archbishop or
-bishop of the said church shall be summoned to or be qualified to
-sit in the House of Lords."
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus we see that Irish Anglican bishops will no longer be
-considered worthy to sit beside their right reverend brethren of
-England on the benches of that respectable but rather sleepy
-conclave known as the House of Lords, and that the Protestant
-Church in Ireland will be resolved into a mere voluntary body
-consisting of clerics and laity, whose regulations will only
-affect themselves as matters of mutual contract, but who will
-have no legal jurisdiction nor recognition except such as may be
-conferred by subsequent acts of parliament on local corporations.
-When we reflect that the prelates thus so unceremoniously thrust
-out of the Lords, and who with their <i>confrères</i> are
-stripped of all extrajudicial authority, were, and still are, the
-most active promoters of the Act of Union and the fiercest
-opponents of its repeal, we cannot help admiring the poetic
-justice which now offers the bitter draught to their lips. Like
-Macbeth, they but taught "bloody instructions, which, being
-taught, return to plague the inventor."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242">{242}</a></span>
-<p>
-The act next provides for the appointment of a commission which
-shall exist for ten years from the commencement of its
-operations, and be clothed with full power to reduce to its
-possession all the property, lands, tenements, and interests of
-or now belonging to the Established Church of Ireland, and to
-reconvey, sell, or dispose of the same according to the
-provisions of the act, after the 1st day of January, 1871. The
-church-buildings now in use by the Established Church will be
-handed over, with all their rights, to the "governing body" of
-the particular church under the voluntary system of organization;
-those not in general use or so dilapidated as to be incapable of
-repair, being from their antiquity or the beauty of their
-architecture, like St. Patrick's, Dublin, to the number of
-twelve, will be transferred by the commissioner to the care of
-the Board of Public Works, with an adequate appropriation in
-money for their proper care and preservation. Against this latter
-arrangement we entirely and emphatically protest. St. Patrick's
-Cathedral at least, if not every one of those twelve churches
-which the Anglicans have neither the numbers to decently fill nor
-the generosity to keep in repair, instead of being put in care of
-poor-law commissioners or any other secular body, should be
-handed over to the Catholics of the country, the real owners and
-spiritual heirs of their founders. This, after all, would be
-nothing more than an act of tardy justice, and a reproof not only
-to the sacrileges committed in them by the "Reformers" of the
-sixteenth century, but to Anglican poverty and niggardliness in
-the nineteenth century. In the hands of the poor-law commissions,
-who have shown little reverence and less antiquarian lore, those
-magnificent temples will become simply objects of wonder to the
-passing tourist; surrounded by all the artistic and beautiful
-graces of our holy faith, they would be living, breathing
-evidences, as it were, of the unswerving devotion to and the
-glorious rejuvenation of that faith in the Island of Saints. If
-not too late, we wish to see this portion of the act changed; if
-this cannot be done, we wish to see the Catholic and the liberal
-members of parliament move in the matter by the means of
-subsequent legislation.
-</p>
-<p>
-See and glebe houses and their curtilages and gardens vested in
-the commissioners may be sold to the governing body of any church
-to which they are attached, for a sum equal to twelve times the
-annual value of the house and land so conveyed, payment to be
-made in installments within twenty-two and a quarter years. Upon
-application from the same or a similar governing body, the
-commissioners may sell, in the case of a see house, thirty acres,
-and of any other ecclesiastical residence, ten acres, contiguous
-land, for such sum as may be agreed upon by arbitration. It is
-further provided that, whenever any church or church sites vest
-in the commissioners, not subject to the above conditions, they
-shall dispose of the same by public sale at their discretion.
-This latter clause, though simple in its terms and apparently
-unimportant, constitutes in reality one of the most interesting
-features in the act. Knowing as we do the intense devotion of the
-Irish Catholics for the crumbling ruins of the old churches built
-by their brave and zealous ancestors, where in the olden time
-walked so many holy men now with the saints in heaven, and the
-cold indifference or ignorance of the Anglican clergy in relation
-to such sanctified places, we can confidently predict that not
-many years will elapse ere those precious memorials of the past
-will be in the possession of the people who have so watched in
-silence and in tears their desecration by the followers of the
-religion of Henry and Elizabeth.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243">{243}</a></span>
-It will also be remarked in this part of the act the constant
-recurrence of the term "governing body," so expressive of the
-total reduction of the once proud Church of England in Ireland as
-by "law established" to the same condition as that occupied by
-mere Methodists and Presbyterians.
-</p>
-<p>
-Graveyards, a subject scarcely less attractive than churches, is
-next dealt with in this elaborate act. When a church having a
-burial ground attached to it is vested in the commissioners, and
-the church-building is subsequently reinvested in the "governing
-body," the burial ground will be included in the order conveying
-the same; otherwise the burial grounds will be transferred to the
-poor-law guardians within whose district the same may be
-situated, to be used by them in a manner similar to those already
-taken or purchased by such guardians. This clause when carried
-out will change many graveyards now exclusively controlled by
-Protestants, but which in reality are and formerly were the
-property of Catholics, into places of public burial, and, <i>a
-fortiori</i>, Catholic.
-</p>
-<p>
-Having disposed of the material interests and franchises of the
-Irish Church, we next come to the most important part (only,
-however, as far as the parties immediately affected are
-concerned) of the act, though the framers, evidently with a keen
-eye to the pockets of the disestablished, place it among the
-first in general interest. It appears under the unostentatious
-sub-title of "Compensation to persons deprived of Income." It
-provides that, on and after the 1st of January, 1871, the
-commissioners, having in the mean time ascertained the amount of
-annual income of the holder of any archbishopric, bishopric,
-benefice, or cathedral preferment, curacy, etc., shall pay to the
-holder of the same an annuity equal in amount to such income for
-life, or as long as such incumbent continues to perform the
-duties of such office; or such incumbent may commute his annuity
-in return for a certain payment in bulk, upon his own application
-and at the discretion of the commission. For these purposes the
-sum of about £5,000,000, or twenty-five millions of dollars, will
-be required to be paid out of the assets in the hands of the
-commissioners. This amount divided between two thousand
-ecclesiastics would give an average of twelve thousand five
-hundred dollars for each, but as that number includes the
-curates, the most numerous and worst paid of the Anglican
-clergymen, the archbishops and other high dignitaries will find
-themselves in receipt of enormous revenues during the term of
-their natural lives. Then there are other persons who are to
-become pensioners on the public bounty to the amount of four
-million five hundred thousand dollars; such as parish clerks,
-sextons, officers of cathedrals and ecclesiastical courts,
-parochial school-masters, organists, and all that sanctimonious
-and useless tribe whose mock gravity and unbending advocacy of
-church and state so frequently proved a source of amusement and
-derision to their less orthodox and perhaps less mercenary
-neighbors. With a sigh we part with that grave, shabby-genteel
-link between the Protestant curate and the seldom-met poor pauper
-of the Anglican Church, well remembering in our early boyhood
-with what awe we gazed upon their long, sallow visages as they
-stalked by meditatively, clothed in all the little brief
-authority of quasi-clerical life.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244">{244}</a></span>
-Thirty millions of dollars may be considered a large sum with
-which to pension off the clergy and their followers of a church
-which does not count three quarters of a million of souls, of all
-degrees, sexes, and ages; but it will be money well spent if it
-heep [helps?] to eradicate an evil which has so long afflicted a
-patient people. [Footnote 52]
-</p>
-<div class="footnote_color">
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 52: A late number of <i>The Catholic Opinion</i>
-    (London) gives us the following statistics: There are, it is
-    said 700,000 Anglicans in Ireland and 36,000,000 Catholics in
-    France; that is, 51 times as many Catholics in France as
-    Anglicans in Ireland. The budget therefore of Catholic
-    worship in France should be 51 times £800,000, or
-    £40,800,000, to write which is enough to show the monstrous
-    iniquity of which Ireland has been the victim. The
-    Presbyterians, numbering 523,291 persons, receive a <i>regium
-    donum</i> for their ministers amounting to £40,547, and a
-    subsidy of £2050 for their theological college at Belfast,
-    making a total of £42,597. Protestant dissenters have no
-    endowment, nor yet Catholics, excepting a subsidy to the
-    college at Maynooth of £26,360. Thus the Anglican
-    Establishment in Ireland has a revenue of about £800,000 for
-    700,000 persons, or about £1 3s. per head. The Presbyterians
-    receive from the government £42,597 for 523,291 persons, or
-    about 1s. 7 1/2d. per head. Catholics, £26,360 for 4,505,265
-    persons, that is, LESS THAN ONE PENNY HALFPENNY per head.
-<br><br>
-    According to the last census, that of 1861, there were in
-    Ireland:
-<br><br>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td></td><td></td><td>Per Cent of <br>
-                          the whole Population.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>4,505,265</td><td>Catholics, that is</td>               <td>77.7</td></tr>
-<tr><td>693,357</td>  <td>Members of the Established Church</td><td>11.9</td></tr>
-<tr><td>523,291</td>  <td>Presbyterians</td>                    <td>9.0</td></tr>
-<tr><td>76,661</td>   <td>Protestant dissenters</td>            <td>1.2</td></tr>
-<tr><td>393</td>      <td>Jews</td>                             <td>0.0</td></tr>
-<tr><td>5,798,967</td><td>Total</td>                            <td>100.0</td></tr>
-</table>
-<br>
-</div>
-]
-
-</div>
-<p>
-The holders of advowsons, or the right to appoint to church
-livings&mdash;with the exception of the queen, corporations sole and
-aggregate dissolved by the act, and trustees, officers, and
-persons acting in a public capacity&mdash;are entitled to certain
-compensation to be ascertained by arbitration; one million five
-hundred thousand dollars being allowed for the liquidation of
-this description of claims. As no Catholic can exercise this
-right, even though the owner of the land in fee from which the
-right to appoint arises, it follows that whatever compensation is
-made will go to Protestants only. It would seem to any person
-other than an Anglican landlord that this clause is not only not
-in harmony with the equitable spirit of the body of the act, but
-that it is manifestly unjust. Advowsons are as much a relic of
-ancient feudal barbarism as any that were abolished by law under
-the commonwealth or Charles II., and should have been swept away
-when all the other devices for defrauding the industrious poor
-were abolished centuries ago. We waive altogether the question of
-their simoniacal character; for a custom so convenient for the
-land-holder and so profitable for younger sons of aristocratic
-families would hardly be condemned on that account by those who
-so largely profit by it. In addition to all the money which the
-commissioners are to reimburse as above mentioned, we find that
-upon the property of the Irish Church there is a building debt of
-some one million and a quarter dollars for the repair of
-churches, glebes, etc., which the commissioners are instructed to
-pay.
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus we see that the sum of nearly thirty-two millions of dollars
-has been set aside as an inducement to the loosening of the grip
-of a very small and mercenary faction on the public purse
-ostensibly, but in reality on the very vitals of the industrial
-interests of the country. Let us now see what corresponding
-compensation has been made for the Catholics and dissenters.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is well known that for over a century the Presbyterians of
-Ireland have been annually in the receipt of a limited sum of
-money called the <i>regium donum</i>. At first, as the term
-indicates, this was simply a gift from the crown, but of late
-years it has been regularly voted by parliament, and last year it
-amounted to £45,000. This grant is to be withdrawn; and as an
-equivalent, a sum of about four millions of dollars is to be
-capitalized by the commissioners, the annual interest of which
-will be nearly equal to the present donation. In addition to
-this, seventy-five thousand dollars are to be bestowed on the
-Presbyterian college of Belfast.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245">{245}</a></span>
-<p>
-But the Catholics, who, notwithstanding the vast emigration of
-the last twenty-five years, form three fourths of the entire
-population, fare even worse than their dissenting brethren. The
-paltry grant of £26,000 to Maynooth College is to cease, and a
-sum equal to less than a half of that appropriated to the
-Presbyterians is to be substituted, the interest only of which
-will be devoted to the support of that distinguished nursery of
-Catholic learning. The building debt of some twenty thousand
-pounds which the college owes to the Board of Public Works is to
-be paid off by the commissioners; but, apart from this trifling
-sum, the Catholics of Ireland gain no direct material advantage
-from the enforcement of the new act; and it is to be hoped that,
-when time confirms the sagacity of the statesmen who have
-suggested the introduction of the present reform, and has done
-full justice to the moral courage of the men who have proposed it
-to the imperial parliament, the self-denial and disinterestedness
-of the Irish Catholic hierarchy, clergy, and people will be duly
-appreciated. However little flattering such unequal distribution
-of funds may be to the rightful claims of Catholics, we presume
-they will not think it worth their while to object to it. Many of
-them, we are disposed to think, would be willing to dispense
-altogether with state aid, if the rule were made general as far
-as regards Protestant sects. The Catholic Church in Ireland has
-never been desirous of leaning for support on the arm of the
-British government, and the experience of its members at home and
-in this country has amply proved that the church is always more
-prosperous and more powerful for good in inverse proportion to
-its reliance on the secular arm.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is no provision made for Trinity college, that being left
-for future legislation, with an intimation from the premier that,
-while its interests will be properly attended to, it shall be
-deprived of its exclusively sectarian character. This is well.
-Trinity was endowed with many thousand broad acres violently
-taken from the rightful owners, the Irish chiefs, by Elizabeth,
-which must now yield an enormous revenue. It has been in times
-past, to a great extent, the nursery of enlightened intolerance
-and philosophic indifference; but when we recall the names of
-Swift and Mollineux, Grattan, Curran, the Emmets, Petrie, and
-McCullough, and many other illustrious friends of Ireland, who
-studied in its venerable halls, and there partially developed the
-germs of that keen wit, fiery eloquence, and scientific lore
-which graced a nation even in its darkest hour of humiliation, we
-can forgive their old <i>alma mater</i> a great many
-backslidings. Trinity should be allowed to retain her revenues,
-and when her wide gates are thrown open for the reception alike
-of the Catholic, the Anglican, and the Dissenter, her sphere of
-usefulness will not only be enlarged, but doubly increased by the
-competition between the diverse elements of which the population
-of Ireland is composed. She will then cease to be sectarian, and
-become, in the truest sense, national.
-</p>
-<p>
-We now come to the matter of assets to be reduced into possession
-by the commissioners, out of which the several sums above
-mentioned are to be paid&mdash;assets which, according to Mr.
-Gladstone's estimates, will amount to £16,000,000, or eighty
-million dollars.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246">{246}</a></span>
-Of this sum, £9,000,000, it is expected, will be derived from the
-commutation or obliteration of tithe rent charges; that is to
-say, the owners of lands from which tithes are now derived can,
-by the payment of a fixed sum to the commissioners, be for ever
-relieved from the tithe exaction; and, should they be unable to
-pay the whole sum down, they are to be allowed forty-five years
-wherein to pay it by instalments. Tithes, it must be remembered,
-have not, for nearly forty years, been collected directly from
-the cultivator of the soil, but from the owner, who, of course,
-added it to the rent, and thus, though the objectionable adjuncts
-of distrain and imprisonment for tithes, as such, were done away,
-the tenant had still to pay the odious tax in another form. As
-the clause of the act regulating this branch of the duties of the
-commissioners is perhaps the last of such a nature that will ever
-be allowed to encumber the statute-book of the British
-parliament, we quote it entire, simply premising that it seems
-fair enough, and in terms decidedly favorable to the landlords.
-Section 32 recites:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The commissioners may at any time after the 1st day of
-  January, 1871, sell any rent charge in lieu of tithes bestowed
-  on them under this act to the owner of the land charged
-  therewith, in consideration of a sum equal to twenty-two and a
-  half times the amount of such rent charge, and upon any such
-  sale being so made, the commissioners shall, by order, declare
-  the rent charge to be merged in the land out of which it
-  issued, and the same shall merge and be extinguished
-  accordingly. Upon the application of any owner so purchasing,
-  the commissioners may, by order, declare his purchase money, or
-  any part thereof, to be payable by instalments, and the land
-  out of which such rent charge issued to be accordingly charged
-  as from a day to be mentioned in such order, for forty-five
-  years thence next ensuing, with an annual sum equal to four
-  pounds ten shillings for every one hundred pounds of the
-  purchase money, or part thereof, so payable in instalments. The
-  annual sum charged by such order shall have priority over all
-  charges and incumbrances, except quit or crown rents, and shall
-  be payable by the same persons, and be recoverable in the same
-  manner as the rent charge in lieu of tithes, heretofore payable
-  out of the same lands. Owner, for the purposes of this section,
-  shall mean the person for the time being liable to pay rent
-  charge in lieu of tithes under the provisions of the acts of
-  the first and second years of the reign of her present majesty,
-  chap. 109."
-</p>
-<p>
-When all the charges incumbent on the commissioners are provided
-for, including one million dollars for themselves, a matter which
-they will not be likely to neglect, there will be left of the
-effects of the defunct Establishment the handsome sum of over
-seven million pounds sterling. What disposition to make of this
-money was a puzzling question for a long time among the
-legislative administrators. That it was to be devoted to some
-Irish purpose was understood from the first; but grants of money
-to Ireland have heretofore turned out to be mere jobs, much more
-beneficial to government employees than to the supposed
-recipients of the bounty. Besides, as Mr. Gladstone says, they
-wanted to make this measure a finality, and to dispose of the
-money once and for ever. To have divided it among all religious
-denominations <i>per capita</i>, would throw the bulk of it into
-possession of the Catholics, to the great chagrin of the sects;
-and to have expended it on one or two local internal improvements
-would have created sectional jealousy, and given rise to the cry
-of favoritism. Appreciating these difficulties, the friends of
-the act have resolved, and, we think, very wisely, to devote it
-to the general charities of the island, not directly connected
-with any particular denomination, as follows:
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247">{247}</a></span>
-
-<p class="cite">
-  "1. The support of infirmaries, hospitals, and lunatic asylums
-  in connection with the grand jury cess or other assessment in
-  lieu thereof.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "2. In support of reformatory and industrial schools, Ireland
-  acts, and in aid of other grants for that purpose.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "3. The salaries of trained or skilled nurses for poor persons
-  in sickness or in labor.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "4. The suitable education and maintenance of the blind and of
-  the deaf and dumb poor in separate asylums.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  5. The suitable care, training, and maintenance, in separate
-  asylums, of poor persons of weak intellect, not requiring to be
-  kept under restraint. The commissioners may, from time to time,
-  during their trust, report to her majesty whether there is any
-  income available for the purposes mentioned in this section,
-  and, upon such report being made, it shall be lawful for her
-  majesty, by order in council, to direct such available portion
-  of income to be applied for the aforesaid purposes, or any of
-  them, under such management and control as aforesaid."
-</p>
-<p>
-The poor-law commissioners are to be entrusted with this capital
-sum, and the distribution of the annual revenue arising
-therefrom, which is calculated at £310,000. There are two very
-patent reasons for this distribution. Already the sum of £140,000
-for similar purposes is annually raised by a tax called "county
-cess;" "a heavy tax, an increasing tax," says Mr. Gladstone, "and
-a tax not divided, like the poor law, between the owner and the
-occupier, but paid wholly by the occupier; and a tax not limited,
-like the poor law, to occupations above four pounds in value, but
-going down to the most miserable huts and cabins. The holders of
-these most wretched tenements are now required in Ireland, and
-required increasingly from year to year, to pay, not that which
-is done by the wealthier portion of the occupants who contribute
-to the poor law, but to pay for that class of want and suffering
-which ought undoubtedly to be met, which in every Christian
-country should be liberally met, but which can only be met by the
-expenditure of considerable funds in comparison with those which
-are paid to support the pauper." The frightful increase of those
-classes of unfortunates to be thus provided for in view of the
-decrease of the entire population by emigration [Footnote 53]
-calls loudly for some legal interposition. From 1851 to 1861 the
-number of deaf and dumb persons increased from 5180 to 5653; and
-during the same decade the blind increased from 5787 to 6879,
-while the number of lunatics increased from 9980 to 14,098, or
-nearly fifty per cent!
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 53: The emigration from Ireland from May 1st, 1851,
-    to December 1st, 1865 amounted to 1,630,722 souls.]
-</p>
-<p>
-With this last act of Christian charity, we hope to see the
-traces of former injustice gradually fade away from the public
-mind, and the bitter memories and sectarian jealousies of the
-past give place to a new era of good feeling and brotherly
-affection. Time is not only a great healer of wounds, but a great
-reformer of ideas. Taking a retrospective glance at the history
-of Ireland for the past hundred years, and watching how, step by
-step, the church in Ireland, from the veriest depths of
-despondency and contumely, has risen in power, strength, and
-numbers by its own innate vitality, we are not too sanguine in
-believing that it has a glorious future before it, unsurpassed by
-that of any country in Europe. Though its members embrace the
-great majority of the poorest classes in the land, they have, in
-that short period, studded the country with magnificent
-cathedrals and substantial parish churches; though unaided by a
-government which, if not positively hostile, was certainly
-indifferent, they have built and are generously sustaining,
-hundreds of colleges, convents, hospitals, and asylums, where
-learning flourishes as in the pristine ages, and where the poor,
-the needy, and afflicted are comforted and consoled.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248">{248}</a></span>
-And though famine has decimated the hardy peasantry, and
-emigration has torn millions of the "bone and sinew" from their
-native shores, the Catholics of Ireland are still, as they always
-will be, the people of Ireland. It is true that a great many
-changes have yet to be effected through the means of legislation
-before the Irish or English Catholic is placed on an equal
-footing with his more favored fellow-subject. In Ireland, he must
-eventually have equal representation in the British parliament.
-The laws controlling the marriage of persons of different
-religious beliefs, those relating to the tenure of lands and
-spiritual devises, and to the disqualification for office on
-account of religious opinions, must be repealed and sent to dwell
-with all the other legal rubbish of a bygone age of bigotry. The
-Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, which is a disgrace to an enlightened
-government and a standing insult to the bishops and people of the
-country, must share the same fate before the crown can expect or
-ought to receive that heartfelt loyalty which springs from good
-and impartial government. The times in which we live imperatively
-demand those reforms, and we are very much mistaken in the
-strength and spirit of our co-religionists in the United Kingdom
-if they do not also quickly and pertinaciously demand them.
-</p>
-<p>
-We are gratified, in looking over our files of leading English
-journals, to find that they all with one voice, a few old and
-obscure tory papers excepted, support the liberal party in its
-leading measure, and are waging war with their trenchant pens
-against the effete anti-Catholic party in the Commons. We hope,
-also, to see our brothers of the American press, secular and
-religious, who so generally advocate the support of churches by
-voluntary contributions, giving a word of encouragement to their
-cousins across the Atlantic.
-</p>
-<p>
-Granting that the passage and proper execution of the present act
-will be a most important step in the right direction, it still
-seems to us unfortunate that it was not taken years ago. With a
-fatality that so generally attends English political and
-religious concessions, it has been so long delayed that it now
-appears to be more the offspring of fear and intimidation than
-the result of wise and mature conviction. If British statesmen
-will yield only to force what they refuse to sound argument and
-the logic of facts, they must expect the same motive power to be
-again applied when demands neither so reasonable nor so well
-founded are to be put forward. In common with our brethren in
-every part of the world, we view with great satisfaction this
-awakening sense of public justice in the English mind; but let it
-not falter now, as if exhausted by one solitary effort. Let a
-good landlord and tenant act be passed without unnecessary delay,
-and some comprehensive measures be adopted for the development of
-the industrial resources of the nation, and then, indeed, that
-chronic state of disaffection which has afflicted every
-generation in Ireland since the invasion may be radically cured.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249">{249}</a></span>
-<br>
-              <h2>My Mother's Only Son.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-The rain is falling heavily, to-night. It has a dull, desolate,
-lonely sound, as if it were bent upon reminding me of another
-night more desolate, dull, and lonely even than the present. What
-right have I, who have so much happiness about me now, to be
-searching the dark annals of past sorrow, or to unearth a hidden
-misery, that will come like a blighting shadow between me and all
-the pleasures that might be mine? Yet that rainy, dismal night
-<i>does</i> come back to me with a force and terror I would
-rather not remember.
-</p>
-<p>
-I would rather not remember it, because my son, just budding into
-manhood, has left me to-night, for the first time, and gone to
-take his place in an old firm in a neighboring city. The world
-and its allurements are temptingly laid out before him. He is a
-noble, handsome boy, so bright and promising. They tell me he
-will always have friends, plenty of friends; that he has all the
-elements of popularity, and is destined to become a general
-favorite. Dangerous attractions these; they have made wiser heads
-than yours, my darling, very giddy and very light; hearts, too,
-have been brought to mourning, while the admiring friends of
-yesterday could cast only a look of pity on their lost friends as
-they passed by.
-</p>
-<p>
-My own brother was all this; gifted in an eminent degree with
-energy and manly courage to sustain him in any generous
-undertaking. We had everything to hope from him; he had
-everything to hope from himself. With prospects fair and bright,
-an old banker, a friend of my father's, gave him an eligible
-situation. It was an office of trust; he was proud of the
-confidence placed in him, and left home with the full resolve of
-filling it with honor to himself and credit to the good man who
-had placed him there. His letters were pleasant and joyous, full
-of the new pleasures he had never dreamed of in our quiet life at
-home. His graceful manners and natural gentleness soon
-established him as a favorite in society; his social pleasures
-were daily increasing, and his attention to business was both
-active and energetic.
-</p>
-<p>
-My mother had a slight misgiving. It was only the shadow of a
-thought, she said&mdash;that Arthur, in the new pleasures that
-surrounded him, might become weaned from us or might learn to be
-happy without us. In her deep love for her gifted boy she had
-never thought such an event possible, and instantly reproached
-herself for the thought.
-</p>
-<p>
-In going from home, my brother had left a great waste, an empty
-place behind him, and his letters were our only comfort.
-</p>
-<p>
-What light and pleasure they brought to our quiet fireside, that
-would have been so dreary without them. There were only three of
-us, and while his letters were so fresh and vigorous, they almost
-kept up the delusion that we were not separated; but there came a
-change.
-</p>
-<p>
-We may have been slow in discovering it, but we did discover it,
-and then to miss him as we missed him through the long winter
-nights seemed like losing a star that had led us, that we had
-followed, until it passed under a cloud and left us, still
-waiting, still watching, for it to come again.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250">{250}</a></span>
-He paid us a flying visit now and then, and my mother,
-unconscious of the cause of his disquietude&mdash;for he was both
-anxious and disturbed&mdash;would redouble her exertions to bring back
-his waning love, making every allowance for the indifference, the
-coldness, and the neglect that were so glaringly apparent to
-other eyes, yet so delicately obscured from her motherly vision.
-Not that my brother made any effort to conceal his restless
-desire to leave us, or that his interests and pleasures were
-centred elsewhere. I was very young, yet old enough to see that
-there was a mercy in <i>this</i>, my mother's blindness.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her beautiful boy seemed to carry the sunshine of her life with
-him; she thought him caressed and petted, the favorite of
-society, and the embodiment of all that was noble. He has seen so
-much of the luxury and elegance of life in the great city, how
-can we expect him to be contented with our home, where everything
-is so different? Thus she would reason with me, and thus, I
-sometimes thought, she would reluctantly reason with herself.
-</p>
-<p>
-One day, a letter came to us from the banking-house, where my
-brother had gradually risen to an honored position. It was from
-the banker himself, our dear old friend; he told, in the
-tenderest manner, that Arthur had acquired habits which rendered
-him unfit for an office of trust. He deeply regretted the
-necessity of making this known to her; he ended by suggesting
-that the gentle influence of home might do much toward bringing
-him to a sense of his condition.
-</p>
-<p>
-My mother read the letter, folded it carefully, reopened it, and
-read it again. She then handed it to me without speaking a word.
-When I had finished reading it, I looked at her; she was still
-immovable, helpless as a child in this her great despair. Her
-apathy was the more distressing to me as I was entirely alone. I
-dare not consult any one, dare not ask the advice of our kind
-neighbors. She had roused herself just enough to tell me it must
-be kept as secret as death. I was only sixteen, I had never acted
-for myself&mdash;there had been no occasion in our quiet life for a
-display of individual courage or independence. I had grown up
-under my mother's guidance, had never been five miles away from
-home, where every day was like all the yesterdays that had gone
-before it. And now this great journey lay before me. There was no
-one else to go; <i>I</i> must take it alone.
-</p>
-<p>
-We were both ignorant of the nature of my brother's disgrace. Mr.
-Lester had made no mention of it further than to say that he
-could keep him no longer in the bank. I could only conjecture in
-my own mind what it might be. Of course I thought of dishonesty;
-what else could have driven him from a situation where he was so
-honored and trusted?
-</p>
-<p>
-The railroad was some miles distant from our little village;
-despatch was necessary; I must meet the evening train. My brother
-was ill; I was going to him; this would quiet our neighbors and
-put an end to curious speculations. Surely I was not far from the
-truth&mdash;he must have been ill indeed when his proud head was
-brought down so low.
-</p>
-<p>
-Again and again reassuring my mother that I would bring him back,
-telling her in all sincerity that I knew he would be able to
-clear himself in her eyes so that not a spot or blemish would be
-left on his fair name, (Heaven knows how easy this might be.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251">{251}</a></span>
-Let him lay his head on her faithful breast, and twine an arm
-about her neck, and lovingly whisper, "Mother, I am
-<i>innocent</i>, all is right;" the <i>world</i> might sit in
-judgment and cry "<i>Guilty</i>," she would heed it not,) I
-became so preoccupied, so entirely absorbed with the
-<i>object</i> of my journey, that the journey itself had no
-novelty for me, though everything was new and startling. Now I
-was hurrying to the great city that I had so often thought and
-dreamed about. It was only in a confused way that I could settle
-it in my mind that I was really going there. That I was strange,
-and new, and unused to the busy scenes that lay before me seemed
-no part of my business. My brother&mdash;would he come home with me?
-He might be angry that I had come. Could I ask him to tell me the
-truth? No, I could not see him so humiliated; I would rather hear
-the story of his shame from other lips than his.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was near midnight when I reached his lodgings.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is Arthur Graham at home?" I, trembling, asked of a kindly
-looking woman who opened the door.
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is, miss, and sorely in need of some one to look after him."
-</p>
-<p>
-Had it come to this? Was my brother an object of pity, even to
-her? I asked to see him, not wishing to prolong this painful
-interview. She desired me to enter, and we approached his room. I
-opened the door cautiously. The woman's manner was so mysterious,
-I trembled and began to be afraid; she had told me he was not
-sick. Of course I thought he was a prisoner and perhaps chained
-in his own room. The light was very dim, and, as I advanced, I
-stumbled and was near falling over&mdash;what?&mdash;over the prostrate
-form of my own brother, lost, degraded, fallen.
-</p>
-<p>
-As I bent down to see why he did not speak to me, I discovered
-the truth. He, the pride and hope of our lives, had sunk into a
-drunkard. I uttered no cry; I was no longer terrified; I thought
-only of my mother.
-</p>
-<p>
-I was all that was left her now, and, as I bent over him,
-wondered if that face was his, so changed, so sickening; neglect
-and ruin had already settled there. I tried to smooth the heavy
-hair, that lay in thick, dank masses about his reeking forehead.
-How old, how terribly old, he had grown in so short a time! I
-dare not cherish a feeling of loathing; he was my brother, and
-needed my love as he had never needed it before. For him&mdash;for in
-him I was protecting my mother&mdash;I must set aside all youth and
-girlhood. A woman was needed now, a woman calm, firm, and
-resolute. Of myself I was weak, but Heaven would help me. A
-conviction settled upon me, as I sat there, with my travelling
-wrappings still unremoved, that his case was hopeless. I could
-see a lonely, dishonored grave, far away from us in a strange
-land. I know not why this sight should rise before me, my brother
-was young, and others as debased as he had risen to a good and
-noble life. Thus I reasoned with myself, and yet that lonely
-mound of earth would come before me, and I felt powerless.
-</p>
-<p>
-But I had no time for misery. I had come to protect and assist.
-My girlhood was passing away with the shadows of the night, for
-to-morrow's sun must find me a woman, prepared to meet the stern
-duties that were now mine.
-</p>
-<p>
-The night was far advanced, and I was trying to gather up my
-newfound energies, when I felt a kindly hand removing my bonnet.
-It was the good woman who had met me at the door; she was waiting
-to show me my room and to offer me some refreshment.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252">{252}</a></span>
-<p>
-"You can do no good here," she continued, as she assisted me to
-arise, "until morning."
-</p>
-<p>
-She shook her head doubtfully as she whispered, "You are very
-young, yes, quite too young to undertake it even then. But if you
-are afraid he will give you the slip before you are up, (he often
-does that,) just lock the door."
-</p>
-<p>
-She did so and put the key in her own pocket.
-</p>
-<p>
-The little room assigned me was cleanly; it had an air of comfort
-about it greatly in contrast with the slovenly chamber I had just
-left. The gentle creature made nothing of undressing me,
-lamenting the while as if I had been a stricken child that had
-unexpectedly fallen into her motherly hands.
-</p>
-<p>
-I had made no allusion to my brother as yet. I could not speak of
-him, and only ventured to ask the woman as she was leaving me how
-long he had been in this condition. "I might ask you the same
-question, miss, for surely it is not a day nor a month that has
-brought him to <i>this</i>."
-</p>
-<p>
-To <i>this!</i> What a world of misery there was in that one
-simple word! It seemed to carry with it the low wailing of a lost
-soul.
-</p>
-<p>
-We were to have paid my brother a visit soon, my mother and I. It
-was to have been a surprise, and I had gone so far as to arrange
-the dress I should wear, for I was anxious to appear at my best
-before Arthur's friends. And here I was spending my first night
-in New York. No kin of mine had bid me welcome. No brother had
-folded me in his loved embrace, and held me out to see how pretty
-I had grown, proudly kissing me again and again, and telling me
-how happy my coming had made him.
-</p>
-<p>
-In my peaceful days I had thought of all this; and oh! how easily
-it might have been!
-</p>
-<p>
-I arose early; but, early as it was, the woman had apprised
-Arthur of my arrival. I found him morose and sullen. He demanded
-my reasons for coming so abruptly upon him. He had not asked
-after my mother, nor given me one word of kindly greeting; and
-when, in a harsh tone, he asked why I thus intruded myself, my
-great reserve of womanly strength fled from me, and I cried long
-and bitterly.
-</p>
-<p>
-He was naturally kind and gentle. He came to me, wiped the tears
-from my cheek, and told me he did not intend to be cruel. His
-hand trembled violently, as he laid it on my head, and his whole
-frame shook and quivered, though I could see he made a desperate
-effort to control himself. When he had recovered his composure,
-he seemed to know why I had come, and implored me not to say one
-word to him; he was miserable enough already.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come home with me, Arthur dear," I whispered. "You can soon
-change your life, and be your own self again."
-</p>
-<p>
-I ventured to tell him that mother had been taken very ill, when,
-with a look, he begged me to say no more. He could not bear even
-an allusion to his condition, and I had no wish to harass him.
-What a slave he had become to the one ruling passion of his life!
-</p>
-<p>
-Regardless of my presence, he drank again and again from a bottle
-near him. Once when I laid my hand upon the glass, he told me
-that he needed it to steady his nerves, and he would be all right
-soon. It was in vain that I urged him to accompany me home. He
-told me he had another situation in view, not anything like the
-one he had just left, but very good in its way. I could tell my
-mother this; it might comfort her.'Twas all the hope I had to
-carry home.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253">{253}</a></span>
-<p>
-As years went by our sorrows were softened. We had become
-accustomed to Arthur's manner of life. At times he seemed
-changing for the better, and again he would go back to his old
-habits.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was in early summer time, when everything on our little farm
-was at its best. The solitary womanly habits that had come so
-early upon me were still very strong with me. I was not yet old,
-only twenty-two; and on this lovely summer night I was planning
-our quiet future, when a carriage stopped before the door, and
-Arthur came in, leading, or rather carrying, a delicate young
-girl.
-</p>
-<p>
-'Mother," said he, "this is my wife! Grace, this is my mother and
-sister."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your wife!" we repeated.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! yes," he replied. "We have been married nearly a year, and I
-hoped to better my circumstances before I should make the fact
-known to you." We saw that the poor child, for such she seemed,
-was sadly in want of woman's kindly care. So pale, so
-sorrow-stricken, so young, yet so bowed down and disappointed! I
-knew nothing of her story, but she was my brother's wife, and I
-gave her a sister's love. That night I watched by her bed; and,
-as the pale moonlight fell upon her rippling hair, I wondered
-what art, what witchery or power my brother had used to bring
-this delicate creature to be a sharer of his misery and shame.
-She waked with a sudden start, and called in a wild, frightened
-way for help. She was really ill, now, and before morning the
-doctor laid a feeble baby in my mother's arms.
-</p>
-<p>
-My new-found sister and her wailing infant had all our tenderest
-care. We were glad that she had come to us that we might, in the
-love we gave her, make up in some degree for the sorry life the
-poor unfortunate child had taken upon herself. She staid with us;
-our home was hers. Arthur returned to New York.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her history was soon told. She was an orphan, entirely dependent
-upon the bounty of an aunt who had daughters of her own to be
-settled in life. She met Arthur. The fascination of his manners
-and the interest he took in her friendless condition won her
-heart. The misfortune of his life was well known to her, but she
-trusted to <i>her</i> love, feeling sure that a life's devotion
-must redeem him. A dangerous experiment, this; too often tried,
-and too often found a hopeless failure. For her sake, he
-<i>did</i> try to be firm and strong, and manfully combated his
-besetting sin; but an hour of weakness came; old associates
-returned, and old habits with them. In a moment of hilarity and
-pleasure all his firmness gave way; his delicate young wife was
-forgotten, and she awakened all too soon to the knowledge that
-her husband's love for liquor was greater than his love for her.
-The dear, sweet girl and her pretty infant had lived with us
-nearly a year, when, one cold, drizzly night like this, Arthur
-came home. He had grown so reckless of late, that we were not
-surprised when he came reeling into our presence. He began by
-demanding a small amount of money which Grace had been husbanding
-with care. She made no reply to any of his angry threats, nor did
-she give him the money. Dead to all sense of manhood, he rose to
-strike her. Her infant was sleeping on her breast. She leaped to
-flee from him, but before we could save her, he struck her. She
-fell heavily; the sleeping babe was thrown against the iron
-fender. It uttered one feeble cry, and closed its eyes <i>for
-ever</i>.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254">{254}</a></span>
-<p>
-The mother rose, and with a desperate effort snatched her dead
-child from my arms, pressed it to her breast, rocked it to and
-fro, and tried to give it nourishment. My mother and I spent that
-terrible night with a dead infant, a frenzied mother, and a
-father lost in hopeless despair. Every rustle in the trees, every
-sound in the air, brought the horror of death upon us, for each
-murmur seemed fraught with vengeance. Was my brother a murderer?
-His own tender infant had fallen dead at his feet. The act must
-pass without a name, for in our woe we had none to give it.
-</p>
-<p>
-He sat there through the weary hours of the night, a haggard,
-desperate fear settling upon him. He dare not approach his wife;
-the sight of him increased her frenzy, and she prayed that she
-might never see his face again.
-</p>
-<p>
-Misery had made my mother strong and she could help me. Calm,
-cool, and deliberate action was necessary now.
-</p>
-<p>
-Arthur must leave us before morning. No one had known of his
-coming. The child's sudden death must be in some way accounted
-for, in what way I knew not. My mother whispered God would help
-us.
-</p>
-<p>
-Arthur slunk away in his guilt and misery. He took no leave of
-us, but silently crept out in the darkness. There was darkness on
-every side, it was bearing down upon him with the weight of an
-avenging fury. I watched him, bowed and desolate, stealing away
-from us, away from all that was dear to him, from all that had
-loved him, and could not, even now, cast him off. I lingered
-until the last sound of his footsteps died away. I knew then as I
-know now, that we should never see him again. The rain fell upon
-him as he passed out. It fell upon me as I stood there, and I
-thought it was falling far away where I had seen a lonely grave.
-</p>
-<p>
-I washed our martyred babe and dressed it for the burial. There
-was a mark upon its little neck that the solemn wrappings of the
-grave must cover. It might be bared before the judgment-seat to
-plead for an erring father.
-</p>
-<p>
-My mother died soon after of a broken heart. She never recovered
-the shock of that terrible night. The curse that settled upon her
-poor, misguided son made him none the less her child; and she
-would try, with all the tenderness of her wounded spirit, to
-think of him as he was, innocent, true, and noble, when first he
-left her. When we learned that he had died on foreign shores, and
-was buried on a lonely island, she thanked God that he was no
-longer a homeless wanderer.
-</p>
-<p>
-My sister Grace is with me still, loving and cherishing my young
-children, leading them and me to better life by the chastened
-beauty of her own Christian character.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255">{255}</a></span>
-<br>
-        <h2>Catholicity and Pantheism.</h2>
-
-              <h3>Number Six.
-<br><br>
-	      The Finite.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-In the pantheistic theory, the finite has no real existence of
-its own. It is a modification, a limit of the infinite. The sum
-of all the determinations which the primitive and germinal
-activity assumes, in the progress of its development, constitutes
-what is called cosmos. The interior and necessary movement of the
-infinite, which terminates in all these forms and determinations,
-is creation. The successive appearance of all these forms in this
-necessary development is the genesis of creation. The finite,
-therefore, in the pantheistic system, does not exist as something
-substantially distinct from the infinite, but is one form or
-other which it assumes in its spontaneous evolutions.
-</p>
-<p>
-As the reader may observe, this theory rests entirely upon the
-leading principle of the system that the infinite is something
-undefined, impersonal, indeterminate, and becomes concrete and
-personal by a necessary, interior movement; a principle which,
-viewed in reference to the finite, gives rise to two others,
-first, that the finite is a modification of the infinite; second,
-that the finite is necessary to the infinite, as the term of its
-spontaneous development. Now, in the preceding articles, we have
-demonstrated, first, that the infinite is actuality itself; that
-is, absolute and complete perfection; second, that in order to be
-personal, he is not impelled to originate any modification or
-limit. Hence, two other principles concerning the finite, quite
-antagonistic to those of pantheism. First, the finite cannot be a
-modification of the infinite, because perfection, absolutely
-complete, cannot admit of ulterior progress. Second, the finite
-is not necessary to the infinite, because the interior and
-necessary action of the infinite does not terminate outside of,
-but within himself, and gives rise to the mystery of the Trinity,
-explained and vindicated in the last two articles. Consequently,
-his necessary interior action being exercised within himself, he
-is not forced to originate the finite to satisfy that spontaneous
-movement, as Cousin and other pantheists contend. The finite,
-therefore, can neither be a modification nor a necessary
-development of the infinite. And this consequence sweeps away all
-systems of emanatism, of whatever form, that may be imagined.
-Whether we suppose the finite to be a growth or extension of the
-infinite, as the materialistic pantheists of old seemed to
-imagine; or mere phenomenon of infinite substance, with Spinoza;
-or ideological exercise of the infinite, as modern Germans seem
-to think&mdash;according to the principle laid down, the finite is
-impossible in any emanatistic sense whatever. To any one who has
-followed us closely in the preceding articles, it will appear
-evident that these few remarks absolutely dispose of the
-pantheistic theory concerning the finite, and close the negative
-part of our task respecting this question.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256">{256}</a></span>
-<p>
-As to the positive part, to give a full explanation of the whole
-doctrine of Catholicity concerning the finite, we must discuss
-the following questions:
-</p>
-<p>
-In what sense is creation to be understood?
-</p>
-<p>
-Is creation of finite substances possible?
-</p>
-<p>
-What is the end of the exterior action of God?
-</p>
-<p>
-What is the whole plan of the exterior action of God?
-</p>
-<p>
-Before we enter upon the discussion of the first question, we
-must lay down a few preliminary remarks necessary to the
-intelligence of all that shall follow.
-</p>
-<p>
-God's action is identical with his essence, and this being
-absolutely simple and undivided, his action also is absolutely
-one and simple. But it is infinite also, like his essence, and in
-this respect it gives rise, not only to the eternal and immanent
-originations within himself, but also may cause a numberless
-variety of effects really existing, and distinct from him, as we
-shall demonstrate. Now, if we regard the action of God, in itself
-originating both <i>ad intra</i> and <i>ad extra</i>, that is,
-acting within and without himself, it cannot possibly admit of
-distinction. But our mind, being finite, and hence incapable of
-perceiving at once the infinite action of God, and of grasping at
-one glance that one simple action originating numberless effects,
-is forced to take partial views of it, and mentally to divide it,
-to facilitate the intelligence of its different effects. These
-partial views and distinctions of our mind, of the same identical
-action of God, producing the divine persons within himself, and
-causing different effects outside himself, we shall call moments
-of the action of God.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are, therefore, two supreme moments of the action of God,
-the interior and the exterior. Whenever we shall speak of the
-action of God producing an effect distinct from and outside of
-him, we shall call it exterior action, to distinguish it from the
-interior, which originates the divine personalities. Moreover, we
-shall call exterior action of God, all the moments of it which
-produce different effects. We shall call creation that particular
-moment of his external action which, as we shall see, causes the
-existence of finite substances, together with their essential
-properties and attributes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, as to the first question, in what sense can creation be
-understood; or, otherwise, what are the conditions according to
-which creation may be possible? On the following: First, the
-terms laid down by the action of God must be in nature distinct
-from him. Second, they must be produced by an act which does not
-cause any mutation in the agent. Third, therefore, they must be
-finite substances. For, suppose the absence of the first
-condition, creation would be an emanation of the divine essence;
-since, if the terms created were not different from the nature of
-God, they would be identical with it, and consequently creation
-would be an emanation or development of the substance of God. The
-absence of the second condition would not only render it an
-emanation of the substance of God&mdash;because, if creation implied a
-mutation in him, it would be his own modification&mdash;but it would
-render it altogether impossible, since no agent can modify itself
-but by the aid of another. If, therefore, creation cannot be
-either an emanation or a modification of God, it must be distinct
-from his substance. Now, something distinct from the substance of
-God, and really existing, and not a modification, cannot be
-anything but finite substance. Finite, because, the substance of
-God being infinite, nothing can be distinct from it but the
-finite; substance, because something really existing, and which
-is not a modification, gives the idea of substance.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257">{257}</a></span>
-Creation, therefore, cannot be understood in any other sense
-except as implying the causation of finite substances. But is
-creation of finite substances possible? In answer to this
-question, let it be remarked that the essence of a thing may have
-two distinct states: one, intelligible and objective; the other,
-subjective and in existence. In other words, all things have a
-mode of intelligible existence, distinct from the being by which
-they exist, in themselves; the one may be called objective and
-intelligible; the other, subjective. To give an instance, a
-building has two kinds of states: one, intelligible, in the mind
-of the architect; the other, subjective, when it exists in
-itself.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, the possibility of a thing to have a subjective existence in
-itself, depends upon the intelligible and objective state of the
-same thing. Because that only is possible which does not involve
-any contradiction. But that which does not involve any
-repugnance, is intelligible. Therefore the possibility of a thing
-implies its intelligibility, and its subjective existence depends
-upon its objective and intelligible state. This is so true, that
-the transcendental truth of beings, in their subjective state of
-existence, consists in their conformity with their intelligible
-and objective state. As the truth of a building consists in it
-conformity with the plan in the mind of the architect.
-</p>
-<p>
-From these principles it follows that, in order to establish the
-possibility of the creation of finite substances, we must prove
-three different things: First, that they have an intelligible
-state; in other words, that their idea does not involve any
-repugnance. Second, that there exists a supreme act of
-intelligence, in which the intelligible state of all possible
-finite substances resides. Third, that there exists a supreme
-activity, which may cause finite substances to exist in a
-subjective state conformable to their objective and intelligible
-state. When we have proven these three propositions, the
-possibility of creation will be put beyond all doubt. Now, as to
-the first proposition, pantheists have denied the possibility of
-finite substances. Admitting the general possibility of
-substance, they deny the intrinsic possibility of a finite one;
-and, as everything which is finite is necessarily <i>caused</i>,
-the whole question turns upon this&mdash;whether, in the idea of
-substance, there is any element which excludes causation and is
-repugnant to it. Every one acquainted with the history of
-philosophy knows that Spinoza coined a definition purposely to
-fit his system. He defined substance to be that which exists in
-itself, and cannot be conceived but by itself. [Footnote 54]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 54: Eth. 1, Def. 1.]
-</p>
-<p>
-This definition is purposely insidious. That which exists in
-itself may have a twofold meaning; it may express a thing, the
-cause of whose existence lies in itself, a self-existing being;
-or it may imply a thing which can exist without inhering in or
-leaning on any other. Again, that which cannot be conceived but
-by itself may be taken in a double sense&mdash;a thing which has no
-cause, and is self-existent, and consequently contains in itself
-the reason of its intelligibility; or it may signify a thing
-which may be conceived by itself, inasmuch as it does not lean
-upon any other to be able to exist. Spinoza, taking both terms of
-the definition in the first sense, had the way paved for
-pantheism; for if substance be that which is intelligible by
-itself because self-existent, it is evident that there cannot be
-more than one substance, and the cosmos cannot be anything but
-phenomenon of this substance.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258">{258}</a></span>
-Hence the question we have proposed: Is there, in the true idea
-of substance, any element which necessarily implies
-self-existence, and excludes causation? Catholic philosophy
-insists that there is none. For the idea of substance is made up
-of two elements: one positive, the other negative. The positive
-element is the permanence or consistence of an act or being&mdash;that
-is, the <i>existing</i> really. The second element is the
-exclusion or absence of all inherence in another being in order
-to exist.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, every one can easily perceive, that to exist really does not
-necessarily imply self-existence, or contradiction to the notion
-of having been caused by another. Because the notion of real
-existence or permanence of a being does not necessarily imply
-eternity of permanence, or, in other words, does not include
-infinity of being. If the permanence or real existence of a being
-included eternity of permanence, then it could not have a cause,
-and should necessarily be self-existent. But we can conceive a
-being really existing, which did not exist always, but had a
-beginning. The better to illustrate this conception, let it be
-remembered that duration or permanence is one and the same thing
-with being; and that, ontologically, being and duration differ in
-nothing. The permanence and duration of a being is, therefore, in
-proportion to the intensity of a being. If the being be infinite,
-the highest intensity of reality, the being is infinitely
-permanent; that is, eternal, without beginning, end, or
-succession. If the being be finite and created, the permanence or
-duration is finite also; that is, has beginning, and may,
-absolutely speaking, have an end. Everything, therefore, really
-existing without inhering in another, whether it be infinite or
-finite reality&mdash;that is, whether it have a cause or be
-self-existent&mdash;is a substance. If it be self-existent, it is
-infinite substance; if it be caused, it is finite substance. This
-is so evident that none, slightly accustomed to reflect, can fail
-to perceive the difference between being self-existent and
-existing really. The two things can go separately without the one
-at all including the other. A thing may exist as really after
-being caused, as the substance which is self-existent and
-eternal, so far as existing really is concerned.
-</p>
-<p>
-To show that the idea of substance, however, is such as we have
-been describing, it is sufficient to cast a glance at our own
-soul. It is evident from the testimony of consciousness, that
-there is a numberless variety of thoughts, volitions, sensations;
-all taking place in the <i>me</i>, all following and succeeding
-each other without interruption, like the waves of the ocean
-rolling one upon the other, and keeping the sea always in
-agitation. We are conscious to ourselves of this continual influx
-of thoughts, volitions and sensations; but, at the same time that
-we are conscious of this, we are conscious also of the identity
-and permanence of the <i>me</i> amid the fluctuations of those
-modifications. We are conscious that the <i>me</i>, which
-yesterday was affected with the passions of love and desire, is
-the same identical <i>me</i> which is to-day under the passion of
-hate. This permanence or reality of the <i>me</i>, amid the
-passing and transitory affections, gives the idea of substance or
-real existence; whilst the numberless variety of thoughts and
-feelings which affect it, and which come and go while the
-<i>me</i> remains, gives the idea of modification, or a thing
-which inheres in another in order to exist.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259">{259}</a></span>
-<p>
-The above remarks must put the possibility of finite substance
-beyond doubt. But before we pass to the second question, we
-remark that any one sooner than a pantheist could call in
-question the possibility of finite substance; because if, as we
-have demonstrated in the second article, the infinite of the
-pantheists be not an absolute nonentity, a pure abstraction, it
-is nothing but the idea of finite being or substance. Hence, to
-prove the possibility of finite substance to the pantheist, we
-might make use of the argument <i>ad hominem</i>. That which is
-intelligible is possible, by the principle of contradiction. But
-the idea of finite substance is intelligible to the pantheists,
-being the foundation of their system; therefore, finite
-substances are possible.
-</p>
-<p>
-Second question: Is there a supreme act of intelligence, in which
-reside all possible finite substances in their objective and
-intelligible state?
-</p>
-<p>
-The demonstration of the second proposition follows from that of
-the first.
-</p>
-<p>
-For the idea of finite substance does not involve any repugnance,
-by the principle of contradiction. Therefore it is necessarily
-possible, as we have demonstrated. But that which is necessarily
-possible, is necessarily intelligible; because everything that is
-possible may be conceived. Therefore the idea of finite substance
-is necessarily intelligible, and may be conceived by an
-intelligence able to grasp the whole series of possible finite
-substances. But God is infinite intelligence, and as such is
-capable of apprehending all possible finite substances. Therefore
-in God's intelligence resides the whole series of possible finite
-substances, in their intelligible and objective state.
-</p>
-<p>
-To render this argument more convincing, let us look into the
-ontological foundation of the possibility of finite substances.
-Finite substances are nothing but finite beings; consequently
-they are not possible, except inasmuch as they agree with the
-essence of God, which is the infinite, <i>the being</i>, and as
-such is the type of all things which come under the denomination
-and category of being. God, therefore, who fully comprehends his
-essence, comprehends, at the same time, whatever may agree with
-it; or, in other words, comprehends all possible imitations, so
-to speak, of his essence; and consequently, all the possible
-imitations of his essence residing in his intelligence, there
-dwells at the same time the intelligible and objective state of
-all possible finite substances. St. Thomas proves the same truth
-with a somewhat similar argument. "Whoever," he says,
-"comprehends a certain universal nature, comprehends, at the same
-time, the manner according to which it may be imitated. But God,
-comprehending himself, comprehends the universal nature of being;
-consequently he comprehends also the manner according to which it
-may be imitated." Now, the possibility of finite substance is a
-similitude of the universal being. Hence, in God's intelligence
-resides the whole series of possible finite substances.
-</p>
-<p>
-Third proposition: There exists a supreme activity which may
-cause finite substances to exist in a subjective state. For St.
-Thomas argues that the more perfect is a principle of action, the
-more its action can extend to a greater number and more distant
-things. As for instance, if a fire be weak, it can heat only
-things which are near it; if strong, it can reach distant things.
-Now, a pure act, which is in God, is more perfect than an act
-mixed of potentiality, as it is in us.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260">{260}</a></span>
-If therefore by the act which is in us we can not only produce
-immanent acts, as for instance, to think and to will, but also
-exterior acts by which we effect something; with much greater
-reason can God, by the fact of his being actuality itself, not
-only exercise intelligence and will, but also produce effects
-outside himself and thus be the cause of being. [Footnote 55] The
-great philosopher Gerdil, appropriating this reason of St.
-Thomas, develops it thus: "In ourselves, and in particular
-beings, we find a certain activity; therefore activity is a
-reality which belongs to the <i>being</i> or the <i>infinite</i>.
-The effect of activity when the agent applies it to the patient,
-consists in causing a mutation of state. The intensity of acts,
-depending on intelligence, has a force to introduce a mutation of
-state in the corporal movements. This may be seen in the real
-though hidden connection of which we are conscious to ourselves,
-between the intensity of our desires and the effect of the
-movements which are excited in the body; and better still, in
-certain phenomena which sometimes occur, though rarely, when the
-imagination, apprehending something vividly and forcibly,
-produces a mutation of state in the body which corresponds
-somewhat with the apprehension of the imagination. [Footnote 56]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 55: C. G. lib. ii. ch. 6.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 56: An imminent danger of being burned to death,
-    vividly apprehended, has sometimes entirely cured persons
-    altogether paralyzed and unable to move.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Now this change in the body, corresponding to what takes place in
-the fancy, that is, in the objective and intelligible state,
-shows that there exists a certain, though hidden, force and
-energy by which, from what exists in an intelligible state, may
-be introduced a mutation in the corresponding state of subjective
-existence. Therefore the efficacy of the supreme intelligence,
-being the greatest and the highest, in force of the supreme
-intensity of being which resides in it, may not only effect a
-change conformable to a relative, intelligible state in things
-already existing, but also cause them to pass altogether from the
-intelligible state into the state of existence. And, assuredly,
-if the finite intensity of desire and of imagination may produce
-an effort of corporal movement, the supreme intensity of the
-Infinite Being may, certainly, produce a substantial, existing
-being; since the supreme intensity of the Being bears infinitely
-greater proportion to the existence of a thing, than the
-intensity of desire does in relation to a corporal movement. The
-term, therefore, of the supreme activity, is to effect, outside
-of itself, the existence of things which had only an intelligible
-and objective being in itself." [Footnote 57]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 57: Gerdil, <i>Del Senso Morale</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-It is well to remark here, that the supreme activity is not by
-any means determined necessarily to create; for the activity may
-be determined to a necessary operation, in that case only when
-the agent is actually applied to the subject capable of receiving
-a change of state. But creation is not the result of the
-application of the supreme activity to a subject coexisting with
-itself; because nothing coexists originally with the supreme
-activity. Therefore creation cannot be an action determined by
-any necessity, but must depend only upon the energy or will of
-the supreme intelligence in which the highest activity dwells.
-Hence it follows, that creation, as to its term, is not
-necessary, either because there is any principle in God impelling
-him necessarily to create, as we have seen, or because there is
-any principle outside of God forcing him to create; because
-outside of the supreme activity nothing exists.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261">{261}</a></span>
-What is necessary about the creation of finite substances, is
-their intelligible and objective state, or their intrinsic
-possibility. For everything which does not imply any repugnance
-by the principle of contradiction, is intrinsically possible and
-intelligible. That which is intrinsically possible is
-essentially, necessarily, and eternally so. Consequently, the
-objective state of finite substances is necessarily so.
-</p>
-<p>
-Pantheists, confounding the objective and intelligible state of
-the cosmos with its state of subjective existence; in other
-words, identifying the ideal with the real, the ideological with
-the ontological, have been led to admit the necessity of
-creation. This is particularly remarked in the systems of
-Schelling and Hegel; the one admitting, as first principle, the
-absolute identity of all things; the other identifying the
-<i>idea</i> with <i>being</i>. Both confounded the objective and
-intelligible state of the cosmos with its state of subjective
-existence; and once the two are identified, it follows that, as
-the one, which is the intelligible, is necessary, eternal, and
-absolute, the other, the subjective, becomes also necessary and
-eternal; and hence the necessity of creation. Catholicity, on the
-contrary, carefully distinguishing between the ideal and the
-real, the objective and the subjective, and admitting the
-necessity and eternity of the first, because everything
-intelligible necessarily and eternally resides in the supreme
-intelligence, denies the necessity of the second, because of that
-very intelligible state which it admits to be necessarily and
-eternally so.
-</p>
-<p>
-For a finite substance is not, and cannot be conceived as
-possible or intelligible, except it is supposed to be contingent
-or indifferent in itself to be or not to be, not having in itself
-the reason of its existence. This is the only condition according
-to which finite substances can be possible. Were it otherwise,
-were a finite substance supposed to be necessary, it would be
-self-existent, and have in itself the reason of its existence;
-and in that case it would no longer be finite, but infinite. To
-suppose, therefore, a finite substance not contingent is to
-suppose it necessary, is to suppose a self-existing finite
-substance, or, in other words, an infinite finite substance,
-which is absurd, and, therefore, unintelligible and impossible.
-</p>
-<p>
-The intelligibility, therefore, or objective state of finite
-substances, which is necessary, eternal, and absolute itself,
-requires the contingency of their existence in a subjective
-state; and, consequently, their contingency is necessary because
-their intelligibility is necessary; and their creation is free,
-because whatever is indifferent in itself to be or not to be,
-absolutely depends, as to its existence, upon the will of the
-supreme intelligence.
-</p>
-<p>
-An objection is here raised by pantheists impugning the
-possibility of the creative act. It is as follows: Given the full
-cause, the effect exists. Now, the creative act, the full cause
-of creation, is eternal; therefore, its effect must exist
-eternally. But, an eternal effect is a contradiction in terms;
-because it means a thing created and uncreated at the same time.
-Therefore, creation is impossible in the Catholic sense, and can
-be nothing more than the eternal development and unfolding of the
-divine substance. Given the cause, the effect exists. Such an
-effect, and in such a manner as the cause is naturally calculated
-to produce, it is granted; such an effect and in such a manner as
-the cause naturally is not intended to produce, it is denied.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262">{262}</a></span>
-Now, what is the cause of creation but the will of God? And how
-does the will naturally act, except by a free determination, and
-in the manner according to which it determines itself?
-Consequently, creation being an effect of the will of God, it
-will follow just when and how the will of God has determined it
-shall. Hence the will of God being eternal, it does not follow
-that the effect should be eternal also. In other words, given the
-full cause, the effect exists when the cause is impelled to act
-by a necessary intrinsic movement. But when the cause is free,
-and perfectly master of its own action and energy, the cause
-given is not a sufficient element for the existence of the
-effect, but, two elements are required, the cause and its
-determination, and the free conditions which the cause has
-attached to its determination. Nor does this imply any change in
-the action of God when creation actually takes place. For that
-same act which determines itself from eternity to create, and to
-cause substances and time, the measure of their duration,
-continues immutable until the creation actually takes place; and
-the creation is not an effect of a new act, but of that same
-immutable and eternal determination of God.
-</p>
-<p>
-We conclude, finite substances are intrinsically possible; they
-have an intelligible and objective state in the infinite
-intelligence of God. God's infinite activity may cause them to
-exist in a subjective state conformable to their intelligible
-mode of existence. Therefore, creation in the Catholic sense is
-possible.
-</p>
-<p>
-Before we pass to the next question, we must draw some
-corollaries.
-</p>
-<p>
-First. God can act outside himself, since he can create finite
-substances with all the properties and faculties which are
-necessary elements of their essence, and naturally and
-necessarily spring from it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Second. The creative act implies two secondary moments; one,
-called preservation, and the other, concurrence. Hence, if God
-does create, he must necessarily preserve his effects, and concur
-in the development of their activity. Preservation implies the
-immanence of the creative act, or the continuation of the
-creative act of God, maintaining finite substances in their
-existence. The necessity of this movement is proved by the
-following reason:
-</p>
-<p>
-Every finite being is, in force of its nature, indifferent to be
-or not to be; that is, every finite being contains no intrinsic
-reason necessarily requiring its existence. Hence, the reason of
-its existence lies in an exterior agent or cause. But the finite
-being once existing, does not change its nature, but
-intrinsically continues to be contingent, that is, indifferent to
-be or not to be. Therefore, the reason of the continuation of its
-existence cannot be found in its intrinsic nature, but in an
-exterior agent; that is, in the action of the Creator. So long,
-therefore, as the action of God continues to determine the
-intrinsic indifference of contingent being to be or not to be, so
-long does the finite exist. In the supposition of the act
-ceasing, the finite would simultaneously cease to be.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nor does this argument impugn the <i>substance</i> of finite
-beings. For, as we have seen, substance is that which exists
-really, though the reason of its existence lie in the creative
-act; whereas, what we deny here in the argument is the
-continuation of existence by an intrinsic reason, which would
-change the essence of the finite, and, from contingent, render it
-necessary.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263">{263}</a></span>
-<p>
-The second moment of the creative act is concurrence. Finite
-substance is a being in the way of development; a being capable
-of modification. Now, no being can modify itself, can produce a
-modification of which it is itself the subject, without the aid
-of another being who is pure actuality. Therefore, finite
-substances cannot modify themselves without the aid of God. The
-action of God aiding finite substances to develop themselves, is
-called concurrence. We have already proved, in the second
-article, the principle upon which this moment of the action of
-God is founded. We shall here add another argument. A finite
-substance is a being in the way of development; a being in
-potency of modification; and when the modification takes place,
-it passes from the power or potency to the act. Now, no being can
-pass from the power to the act except by the aid of being already
-in act. Consequently, finite substances cannot modify themselves
-except by the aid of being already in act. Nor can it be supposed
-that finite substances can be at the same time in potency and in
-act with regard to the same modification; for this would be a
-contradiction in terms. It follows, then, that having power of
-being modified, they cannot pass from the power to the movement
-without the help of another being already in act. This cannot be
-a being which may itself be in power and in act, for then it
-would itself require aid. It follows, therefore, that this being,
-aiding finite substances to modify themselves, must be one which
-is pure actuality, that is, God.
-</p>
-<p>
-Third corollary: From all we have said follows, also, the
-possibility of God acting upon his creatures by a new moment of
-his action, and putting in them new forces higher than those
-forces which naturally spring from their essence, nor due to them
-either as natural properties, attributes or faculties. For, if
-God can act outside himself, and effect finite substances
-distinct from him; substances endowed with all the essential
-attributes and faculties springing from their nature; if he can
-continue to maintain them in existence, and aid them in their
-natural development, we see no contradiction in supposing that he
-may, if he choose, grant his creatures other forces superior
-altogether to their natural forces, and, consequently, not due to
-them as properties or attributes of their nature.
-</p>
-<p>
-For the contradiction could not exist either on the part of God
-or on the part of the creature. Not in the former, because God's
-action being infinite, may give rise to an infinity of effects,
-one higher and more sublime, in the hierarchy of beings, than the
-other. Not in the latter, because the capacity of the creature is
-indefinite. It may receive an indefinite growth and development,
-and never reach a point beyond which it could not go. Therefore,
-the supposition we have made does not imply any repugnance either
-in God or in the finite, the two terms of the question. Now, that
-which involves no repugnance is possible. It is possible,
-therefore, that God may act upon his creatures by a moment of his
-action distinct from the creative moment, and put in them forces
-higher than their natural forces, and not due to them as any
-essential element or faculty.
-</p>
-<p>
-The other questions in the next article.
-<p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264">{264}</a></span>
-<br>
-           <h2>Aubrey de Vere in America.</h2>
-
-<p class="center_close">
-          [Footnote 58]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 58:
-    <i>Irish Odes and Other Poems</i>.<br>
-    By Aubrey De Vere.<br>
-    New York: The Catholic Publication Society,<br>
-    126 Nassau street. 1869.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-The first if not the strongest attraction this book will have for
-American curiosity is not in its contents, but in their
-selection. The poems presented are culled from a much greater
-number, especially and expressly for the American market, and the
-choice interests us vividly as indicating an English author's
-deliberate <i>business</i> opinion of that market. This edition
-has not been prepared without thought: Mr. De Vere does not often
-do anything without thought. Moreover, it has been, if we are not
-misinformed, somewhat unusually long in press, and several of the
-poems already published have been actually revised and improved
-on by their painstaking author to the very last copy, and differ
-in quite a number of minutiae from their former selves. Hence
-Americans must be all the more surprised at the singular estimate
-of taste and the singular conception of their character, which
-appear to underlie this book. We cannot help thinking&mdash;nay, we
-cannot help seeing&mdash;that Mr. De Vere has not selected so well as
-he would have done if he had ever lived in America, or, if he had
-had intelligent, practical, and experienced American advice.
-There was only one way to do this thing rightly. It was to
-consider either what we, the Americans, ought to like the best,
-or what we would like the best; to weigh the facts well, to
-settle on some definite plan or theory of selection, and carry
-this out with some little sternness to the end, only leaving the
-path for the very choicest flowers. We cannot trace any
-strictness of system in this book: it has neither spinal column
-nor spinal cord, but is made up of miscellaneous
-samples&mdash;<i>disjecta membra poetae</i>. Sometimes we imagine it
-to be a compromise of plans, and sometimes a random jumble. Too
-many of the best poems we miss, and some of the author's most
-taking <i>lines</i> of thought stated nearly, and some totally
-unrepresented. On the other hand, some mediocre pieces abound as
-to which we seek but cannot find an extrinsic cause for their
-reproduction. Our own suggestion to Mr. De Vere would have been
-to make <i>general interest</i> his prime criterion in choosing.
-We are a very heterogeneous nation, and it is not every topic
-that can unite our various tastes. For any wide or national
-success here, a book must have at least a kernel of thought or
-sentiment which shall appeal directly to almost the only thing we
-have in common here&mdash;our humanity. Next to such poems&mdash;and Mr. De
-Vere has written not a few&mdash;we should have taken the best
-expressed; the boldest or most beautiful. This indeed is but a
-branch corollary of the other principle, because we all love fine
-expressions of ideas. On these two principles we think we could
-have made up from the copies of Mr. De Vere's poetry one of the
-most attractive books of the year. We think he has missed this in
-several ways. To begin with, we cannot see anywhere that he ever
-once grasped the idea of addressing himself to the whole American
-people. There is pabulum enough for Boston, and for devout
-Catholics everywhere; but where is the intelligence of Georgia,
-or California, or Ohio in his estimates for the popularity of
-this volume?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265">{265}</a></span>
-Some of the poems err in the direction of abstruseness, many in
-being founded on obscure facts; a few embody the gross fault of
-being occasional pieces&mdash;the flattest and most surely flat of all
-possible forms of dulness. That Mr. De Vere could forget himself
-to this last degree is to us proof positive that he never thought
-of pleasing the whole American reading community.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have heard this praised as sagacity, since this work's
-appearance, on the ground that, as an outspoken Catholic and
-Irishman, he could never have succeeded. To this the American
-observer says, "<i>Distinguo</i>." Mr. De Vere is too elevated
-and refined a thinker to be a poet of the people anywhere; but it
-is, if anything, his religion, not his Celtic outbursts, that
-stand in his way here. We are&mdash;heaven knows with good
-reason&mdash;tolerably well past literary prejudices against
-foreigners. A foreign author, having no friends nor enemies, no
-clique nor counter-clique among the critics here, will have a
-fair trial by American public opinion always, on the one
-condition that he do not stand upon his being a foreigner and
-insist on cramming pet theories down our throats.
-</p>
-<p>
-But we do question whether there may not be a measure of truth in
-the suggestion that Mr. De Vere, here as everywhere, is too
-conspicuously Catholic for popularity. We see little of sectarian
-prejudice among our best non-Catholic men; perhaps because so
-many of them are freethinkers or indifferentists in religion. But
-Protestant prejudice controls some otherwise first-class
-criticism, much more of lower grade, and very many ordinary
-readers and buyers of books. Perhaps Mr. De Vere is too
-pronounced for these&mdash;too full and too proud of his faith. Many a
-bigoted Protestant who can just barely make up his mind to hear a
-man out in spite of his being a "Romish idolater," etc., etc.,
-lays down a book the instant he suspects&mdash;what Protestantism is
-always peculiarly quick to suspect&mdash;propagandism. Such men might
-know that if proselyte-making were Mr. De Vere's aim, his
-obviously shrewder plan would have been, first to gain influence
-and popularity by neutral poems, and then, entrenched on the
-vantage-ground of public favor, to bombard the community with his
-explosive Catholic notions to some purpose. But this would be far
-too much thinking for a bigoted man to go to the trouble of,
-especially when it is so much cheaper, as well as more sweet to
-the deacons and elders, to be unjust and slurring. So we fear
-that many Protestant organs of opinion will reject the poetry for
-the religion, and so do Mr. De Vere's book harm as an American
-venture so far as the non-Catholics are concerned.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the other hand we do believe that his Irish pieces would be
-his best hold on public favor; for he certainly is one of the
-best-informed men in Irish history of all the late writers; and
-if there is one thing an American admires more than another&mdash;in
-literature or anything else&mdash;it is a man that knows what he is
-talking about.
-</p>
-<p>
-But this is all of the dead past now; the book is upon us. We go
-on to this question&mdash;since Mr. De Vere did not aim to please us
-all, what was his aim? He has not told us in the natural
-place&mdash;the preface&mdash;and we can only ask the reader to decide for
-himself whether it is, as we said, compromise or jumble. The
-selection of the Irish pieces is infinitely the worst of all. The
-best, because the most truly Irish, of these, are in Inisfail.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266">{266}</a></span>
-There are very many Irishmen indeed who would not appreciate the
-sonnet to Sarsfield and Clare, and who could make neither head
-nor tail of "The Building of the Cottage;" but take up Inisfail
-and read out "The Malison," or "The Bier that Conquered," or the
-"Dirge of Rory O'More," to any Irish audience, and see if they
-understand it or not!
-</p>
-<p>
-There lay one main element of strength of a book like this; and
-yet we do not recall a single piece from "Inisfail" in the entire
-collection! It is inconceivable to us except upon the very
-well-known and extremely ill-understood principle that an author
-always differs with his readers, and generally with posterity, as
-to what is his best. In our own humble opinion, for instance,
-"The Bard Ethell" or "The Phantom Funeral," as historical
-pictures, or the "Parvuli Ejus" or "Semper Eadem" as pure poetry,
-is singly worth the whole fifty pages of Irish Odes, sonnets, and
-interludes that begin this new volume: and we doubt as little
-that Mr. De Vere would smile in benign derision at our notion. So
-we will not dispute about tastes, and simply say that we do not
-understand the classification of the main body of the Irish
-pieces. Especially is this hard to discover the reason for
-omitting Inisfail in the light of the following passage from the
-preface: "I cannot but wish that my poetry, much of which
-illustrates their history and religion, should reach those Irish
-'of the dispersion,' in that land which has extended to them its
-hospitality. Whoever loves that people must follow it in its
-wanderings with an earnest desire that it may retain with
-vigilant fidelity, and be valued for retaining, those among its
-characteristics which most belong to the Ireland of history and
-religion."
-</p>
-<p>
-The remainder of the selected poems are purely miscellaneous, and
-are chiefly remarkable to us as again showing how curiously
-authors estimate themselves. We do indeed meet with much of the
-best there is; but we miss, as we have said, very much more. And
-having, as we have, a personal intimacy with many of Mr. De
-Vere's poems, we feel really resentful to see our favorites
-slighted and supplanted by others which&mdash;as it seems to us, be it
-remembered&mdash;no one could ever like half so well.
-</p>
-<p>
-After all, Mr. De Vere may be right and we wrong; but we feel so
-interested in his success, and so earnestly desirous of
-recognition for his high abilities, that&mdash;we do wish he had done
-it our way!
-</p>
-<p>
-The first sixty pages of the present volume are composed mainly
-of a sort of rosary of ten odes, all strung on Ireland and the
-Irish. Now, odes we disbelieve in generally. We think they
-contain more commonplace which we imagine we admire, and which we
-don't and can't admire, than any other variety of composition in
-English literature. They are the supremely fit form of a few
-peculiar orders of thought. The cause of Ireland is not one of
-these, and Mr. De Vere has tried hard and failed, to prove the
-contrary. Irish griefs are too human, Irish sympathies too
-heartfelt, to be reached by this road in the clouds. One good
-ballad or slogan is worth practically a million odes. As Ode I.
-in this very series beautifully puts it,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Like severed locks that keep their light,
-     When all the stately frame is dust,
-   A nation's songs preserve from blight
-     A nation's name, their sacred trust.
-   Temple and pyramid eterne
-     May memorize her deeds of power;
-   But only from her songs we learn
-     How throbbed her life-blood hour by hour."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267">{267}</a></span>
-<p>
-But, waiving their final cause, three of the odes are good, the
-first two, and the seventh&mdash;the best of all&mdash;which, as also the
-ninth, is republished from the book of 1861. The close of this is
-singularly touching and true, and well worth recalling even to
-many who must have admired it before.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "I come, the breath of sighs to breathe,
-     Yet add not unto sighing;
-   To kneel on graves, yet drop no wreath
-     On those in darkness lying.
-   Sleep, chaste and true, a little while,
-     The Saviour's flock and Mary's,
-   And guard their reliques well, O Isle,
-     <i>Thou chief of reliquaries!</i>
-
-  "Blessed are they that claim no part
-     In this world's pomp and laughter:
-   Blessèd the pure; the meek of heart
-     Blest here; more blest hereafter.
-  'Blessed the mourners.' Earthly goods
-     Are woes, the master preaches:
-   Embrace thy sad beatitudes,
-     And recognize thy riches!
-
-  "And if, of every land the guest,
-     Thine exile back returning
-   Finds still one land unlike the rest,
-     Discrowned, disgraced, and mourning,
-   Give thanks! Thy flowers, to yonder skies
-     Transferred, pure airs are tasting;
-   And, stone by stone, thy temples rise
-     In regions everlasting."
-
-  "Sleep well, unsung by idle rhymes,
-     Ye sufferers late and lowly;
-   Ye saints and seers of earlier times,
-     Sleep well in cloisters holy!
-   Above your bed the bramble bends,
-     The yew tree and the alder:
-   Sleep well, O fathers and O friends!
-     And in your silence moulder!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Scattered about between these odes we find a miscellany of minor
-pieces whose function seems to be that of interludes or thin
-partitions. Of these <i>hors-d'oeuvres</i> some are new, some
-old; the majority, for Mr. De Vere, commonplace. He cannot write
-a page without hitting on some happy phrase or just thought, but
-there is a little more than this to be said of almost all. The
-best is this sonnet which we do not remember having seen before:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-        "The Ecclesiastical Titles Act.
-
-  "The statesmen of this day I deem a tribe
-   That dwarf-like strut, a pageant on a stage
-   Theirs but in pomp and outward equipage.
-   Ruled inly by the herd, or hireling scribe.
-   They have this skill, the dreaded Power to bribe:
-   This courage, war upon the weak to wage:
-   To turn from self a Nation's ignorant rage:
-   To unstaunch old wounds with edict or with jibe.
-   Ireland! the unwise one saw thee in the dust,
-   Crowned with eclipse, and garmented with night,
-   And in his heart he said,'For her no day!'
-   But thou long since hadst placed in God thy trust,
-   And knew'st that in the under-world, all light,
-   Thy sun moved eastward. Watch! that East grows gray!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-We have also a long series of selections from the entire body of
-our author's published works. Here we are glad to welcome to
-America many of his best poems. The sonnets especially are as a
-rule well chosen. We miss many a lovely one, but we should miss
-these that are before us just as much. Mr. De Vere has also with
-excellent judgment honored with a place in this book his three
-charming idylls, "Glaucè," "Ione" and "Lycius"&mdash;among his very
-finest pieces of word-painting, and which have more of the old
-classic mode of expression than any modern poems in our language
-save Landor's, and perhaps Tennyson's "OEnone." We wonder, by the
-way, why a man who could write these idylls has never given us
-any classical translations. We are sure they would be remarkably
-good. The long poem of "The Sisters" is also reprinted in full.
-It is good, and we will not say that it is not a good piece here;
-but on reading it over, the discussion and description which
-frame the picture seem to us better than the picture itself.
-Indeed, we have begun to suspect more and more that Mr. De Vere's
-strength lies in his descriptive powers. It might surprise many
-other readers of his, as much as it did us, to examine for
-themselves and discover how many of their most admired passages
-are portraits. In mere verbal landscape-painting he stands very
-high. His very earliest books abound in felicities of this sort,
-and the <i>May Carols</i> are fairly replete with them, and in
-fact contain a whole little picture gallery in verse.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268">{268}</a></span>
-And from the "Autumnal Ode&mdash;one of the very latest in his latest
-book [Footnote 59] &mdash;we select one of many passages which amply
-prove that Mr. De Vere's hand has not forgotten her cunning:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  No more from full-leaved woods that music swells
-    Which in the summer filled the satiate ear:
-  A fostering sweetness still from bosky dells
-    Murmurs; but I can hear
-  A harsher sound when down, at intervals,
-  The dry leaf rattling falls.
-  Dark as those spots which herald swift disease,
-  The death-blot marks for death the leaf yet firm.
-  Beside the leaf down-trodden trails the worm.
-  In forest depths the haggard, whitening grass
-  Repines at youth departed. Half-stripped trees
-    Reveal, as one who says,'Thou too must pass,'
-  Plainlier each day their quaint anatomies.
-  Yon poplar grove is troubled! Bright and bold
-  Babbled his cold leaves in the July breeze
-  As though above our heads a runnel rolled.
-    His mirth is o'er; subdued by old October,
-    He counts his lessening wealth, and, sadly sober,
-  Tinkles his minute tablets of wan gold."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 59: Dated in October, 1867.]
-</p>
-<p>
-This is very vivid, and the closing fancy extremely graceful and
-pleasing. Poplars, by the way, seem to be a favorite theme of our
-author. Every one familiar with his poems will recall another
-beautiful description in his idyll of "Glaucè," in which occur
-these lines:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-                     "How indolently
-  The tops of those pale poplars bend and sway
-  Over the violet-braided river brim."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-And there are other instances also.
-</p>
-<p>
-But it is waste of argument to go on giving illustrations of Mr.
-De Vere's power to depict the external world; it is like proving
-Anacreon a love-poet. What we wish to call attention to is the
-nature, not the existence, of his talent for description. It
-seems to us that, throughout his works, the faculty of
-delineation is not the ordinary sensuous susceptibility of poets,
-but rather a clear, tender truthfulness in reproducing
-impressions alike of thought and sense. The somewhat unusual
-result from which we deduce this opinion is, that he describes
-quite as happily in the moral order as the physical. This has not
-been adequately noticed by his critics, His beautiful
-<i>genre</i> pictures appear to have absorbed almost all of the
-public attention. We think this is more than their due. Indeed,
-whenever he sets out to paint traits, Mr. De Vere is quite as
-sure to make a hit as in his landscape sketches. This volume
-chances to afford us one striking set of examples of this. There
-are in it three several summaries of the characteristics of
-different nations. One&mdash;the remarkable epitome of England in the
-sonnets on colonization&mdash;has been published in this magazine
-before, (Vol. iv. No. 19, p. 77.) The next we take from the
-"Farewell to Naples," (p. 70.) We think it will bear quoting,
-though it has been in print since 1855, and was written as long
-ago as 1844.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  'From her whom genius never yet inspired,
-   Nor virtue raised, nor pulse heroic fired;
-   From her who, in the grand historic page,
-   Maintains one barren blank from age to age;
-   From her, with insect life and insect buzz,
-   Who, evermore unresting, nothing does;
-   From her who, with the future and the past
-   No commerce holds, no structure rears to last;
-   From streets where spies and jesters, side by side,
-   Range the rank markets, and their gains divide;
-   Where faith in art, and art in sense is lost,
-   And toys and gewgaws form a nation's boast;
-   Where Passion, from Affection's bond cut loose,
-   Revels in orgies of its own abuse;
-   And Appetite, from Passion's portals thrust,
-   Creeps on its belly to its grave in dust;
-   Where Vice her mask disdains, where Fraud is loud,
-   And naught but Wisdom dumb and Justice cowed;
-   Lastly, from her who, planted here unawed,
-   'Mid heaven-topped hills, and waters bright and broad,
-   From these but nerves more swift to err hath gained,
-   And the dread stamp of sanctities profaned,
-   And gilt not less with ruin, lives to show
-   That worse than wasted weal is wasted woe&mdash;
-   We part, forth issuing through her closing gate
-   With unreverting faces not ingrate."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Is this not stingingly true? If only the critics found it in
-Byron, would it not be inevitable in all the select readers and
-speakers, and rampant in the "Notes on France," "Letters from
-Italy," "Thoughts while Abroad," etc., which ministers are so
-sure to write, and which we hope congregations buy?
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269">{269}</a></span>
-<p>
-The other is a still stronger, and, coming from Mr. De Vere, a
-very bold as well as trenchant portraiture&mdash;no less than the
-English idea of Ireland. True, Mr. De Vere does not even pretend
-to agree with it, but that, an Irishman himself, and a devoted
-patriot, he can see her so exactly as others see her, makes it
-wonderfully good, and raises what would otherwise have been a
-mere success of exact expression, to the rank of a high
-imaginative effort.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "How strange a race, more apt to fly than walk;
-   Soaring yet slight; missing the good things round them,
-   Yet ever out of ashes raking gems;
-   In instincts loyal, yet respecting law
-   Far less than usage: changeful yet unchanged:
-   Timid yet enterprising: frank yet secret:
-   Untruthful oft in speech, yet living truth,
-   And truth in things divine to life preferring:
-   Scarce men; yet possible angels!&mdash;'Isle of Saints!'
-   Such doubtless was your land&mdash;again it might be&mdash;
-   Strong, prosperous, manly never! ye are Greeks
-   In intellect, and Hebrews in the soul:
-   The solid Roman heart, the corporate strength
-   Is England's dower!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-We cannot devise an addition that could complete this picture of
-the Sassenach's view of the Gael. It is to the life&mdash;the
-"absolute exemplar of the time." Only we fear that Mr. De Vere
-has furnished those who do not particularly love his country with
-rather an ugly citation against her, and Irishmen may perhaps
-complain of him for giving to such a powerful delineation the
-sanction of an Irish name. If so, it will be the highest
-compliment in the world; yet it has ever been a dangerous gift to
-be able to see both sides of the shield.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have only suggested our belief, not asserted it as a fact,
-that Mr. De Vere's fullest power is in description; but the idea
-grows on us every year, and we wish he would set the question
-finally at rest in some future work. Let him for once in his life
-make this great gift of his the essential, instead of the
-incident, and write something purely descriptive.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is another thing&mdash;rather a curious thing, perhaps&mdash;that we
-note in the choice of the old poems. In a former review, some
-little time since, we took occasion to speak of the
-chameleon-like way in which Mr. De Vere's style&mdash;always in its
-essence his own&mdash;unconsciously reflects his reading of certain of
-our best authors. There are poems that recall Shakespeare, and
-Wordsworth, and Landor, and Tennyson, and Shelley. But there are
-also others&mdash;many of them among his best&mdash;which are all himself.
-Consciously or unconsciously, Mr. De Vere has come back to these
-at the last, and they constitute a notable majority of those he
-has picked out for this volume. The ode on the ascent of the
-Apennines, the "Wanderer's Musings at Rome," the "Lines written
-under Delphi," the beautiful "Year of Sorrow," "The Irish Gael
-(<i>alias</i> Irish Celt) to the Irish Norman"&mdash;all these are of
-this class. Perhaps the poet has come to love the best those of
-his poems which hold the purest solution of his own nature, or
-perhaps it may be mere chance; only certain it is that the most
-characteristic of his pieces predominate very largely throughout.
-</p>
-<p>
-We cannot, however, pass on to the new poems without expressing
-our profound disrespect for one selection in this volume. It is
-notorious that, as we hinted before, authors are poor judges of
-the relative excellence of their own works. To this rule there
-are, apparently, no exceptions. Let us take one rankling example.
-No lover of Tennyson but groans inwardly with disgust over that
-insane hoot called "The Owl," with its noble description of the
-very witching hour of night:
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "<i>When cats run home</i>, and night is come,"
-</p>
-<p>
-and the impotent beauty of the poet's ejaculation:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "I would mock thy chant (!) anew,
-     But I cannot mimic it.
-   Not a whit of thy tuwhoo,
-     Thee to woo to thy tuwhit," etc., etc.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-&mdash;human nature can stand no more of it.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270">{270}</a></span>
-<p>
-We had long loved to believe that this was a sceptred hermit of
-an example, wrapped in the solitude of its own unapproachable
-fatuity. It has gone blinking and tu-whooing through edition
-after edition, with the muffy solemnity characteristic of the
-eminent fowl, its subject. But Mr. De Vere has paralleled it at
-last with a certain "Song" which we find in this volume. On the
-4th of September, 1843, in a preface to his first book of verses,
-[Footnote 60] he tells us that this poem was written considerably
-earlier than 1840.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 60: <i>The Search after Proserpine</i>. Oxford and
-    London. 1855.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Three years ago, we remember observing and laughing at it, and
-thinking whether it would not be well to speak of it as the one
-blemish in all his works, on his elsewhere perfect grammar.
-Deeming it a mere Homeric dormitation, we passed it by. And now,
-after thirty years face to face with it, comes Mr. De Vere, at
-last, and drags from utter and most laudable oblivion this
-hapless
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-                 "SONG.
-
-  "He found me sitting among flowers,
-     My mother's, and my own;
-   Whiling away too happy hours
-     With songs of doleful tone.
-
-  "My sister came, and laid her book
-     Upon my lap: and he,
-   He too into the page would look,
-     And asked no leave of me.
-
-  "The little frightened creature laid
-     Her face upon my knee&mdash;
-  '<i>You</i> teach your sister, pretty maid;
-     And I would fain teach <i>thee</i>.'
-
-  "He taught me joy more blest, more brief
-     Than that mild vernal weather:
-   He taught me love; he taught me grief:
-     He taught me both together.
-
-  "Give me a sun-warmed nook to cry in!
-     And a wall-flower's perfume&mdash;
-   A nook to cry in, and to die in,
-     'Mid the ruin's gloom."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-If Mr. De Vere had only attended in 1840 to the very reasonable
-request of the young person in the last verse, we should have
-been spared one of the very silliest little things in the English
-language. And yet in thus haling it from the
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "nook to sigh in and to die in
-    'Mid the ruin's gloom,"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-where public opinion had long since left it in peace, he has done
-good. It is instructive to his admirers to see for themselves how
-very badly he could write before the year 1840. If intended as a
-public penance of this nature, it is perfect of its kind, and the
-humility of it will rejoice all Christian souls, excepting,
-perhaps, the indignant shade of Lindley Murray.
-</p>
-<p>
-Not far behind this in inanity is the "Fall of Rora," all the
-good part of which was published years ago, and all the bad part
-of which is raked up and added for this edition. But from this to
-the end of the book are new poems of a very different order. To
-begin with, we have a number of miscellaneous sonnets. They are
-none of them poor, but the first that particularly arrests
-attention, by its fine harmony and happy illustration, is
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-                 "Kirkstall Abbey.
-
-  "Roll on by tower and arch, autumnal river;
-   And ere about thy dusk yet gleaming tide
-   The phantom of dead Day hath ceased to glide,
-   Whisper it to the reeds that round thee quiver:
-   Yea, whisper to those ivy bowers that shiver
-   Hard by on gusty choir and cloister wide,
-   My bubbles break: my weed-flowers seaward slide:
-   My freshness and my mission last for ever!'
-   Young moon from leaden tomb of cloud that soarest,
-   And whitenest those hoar elm-trees, wrecks forlorn
-   Of olden Airedale's hermit-haunted forest,
-   Speak thus,'I died; and lo, I am reborn!'
-   Blind, patient pile, sleep on in radiance! Truth
-   Dies not: and faith, that died, shall rise in endless youth."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The arrangement of the double rhymes, which gives the peculiar,
-rich rhythm, is a very unusual one with these sonnets. In the
-whole two hundred and fifty before this, we only recall one or
-two other instances, notable among which is the famous one
-beginning,
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "Flowers I would bring, if flowers could make thee fairer,"
-</p>
-<p>
-and the effect is almost always excellent.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271">{271}</a></span>
-<p>
-On the heels of this treads another (of the same rhythm also) too
-good to pass by:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-             "Unspiritual Civilization.
-
-  "We have been piping, Lord; we have been singing!
-   Five hundred years have passed o'er lawn and lea
-   Marked by the blowing bud and falling tree,
-   While all the ways with melody were ringing:
-   In tented lists, high-stationed and flower-flinging
-   Beauty looked down on conquering chivalry;
-   Science made wise the nations; Laws made free;
-   Art, like an angel ever onward winging,
-   Brightened the world. But O great Lord and Father!
-   Have these, thy bounties, drawn to thee man's race
-   That stood so far aloof? Have they not rather
-   His soul subjected? with a blind embrace
-   Gulfed it in sense? Prime blessings changed to curse
-   Twixt God and man can set God's universe."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Better, perhaps, than either of these, as combining the best
-qualities of both, is the one on
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-                "Common Life.
-
-  "Onward between two mountain warders lies
-   The field that man must till. Upon the right,
-   Church-thronged, with summit hid by its own height,
-   Swells the wide range of the theologies:
-   Upon the left the hills of science rise
-   Lustrous but cold: nor flower is there, nor blight:
-   Between those ranges twain through shade and light
-   Winds the low vale wherein the meek and wise
-   Repose. The knowledge that excludes not doubt
-   Is there; the arts that beautify man's life:
-   There rings the choral psalm, the civic shout,
-   The genial revel, and the manly strife:
-   There by the bridal rose the cypress waves:
-   And there the all-blest sunshine softest falls on graves."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-This is, we think, one of the author's very best. It evolves a
-happy allegory very neatly with a happy description, to express a
-thought too large, it is true, for development in such brief
-space, but highly suggestive. The question, how far wisdom lies
-in action, may be raised in a sonnet, and remain unsettled by a
-thousand treatises.
-</p>
-<p>
-Several versions from Petrarch's sonnets are admirable, and serve
-to confirm our already expressed opinion that Mr. De Vere could
-give us excellent translations.
-</p>
-<p>
-Perhaps, however, readers of our author will be most interested
-by the following, which is in an altogether different vein from
-the general run of these sonnets, and indeed is perhaps rather a
-curious subject for a sonnet to be made about at all. Still there
-is no accounting for these poets. Here it is, with all its
-oddities upon its head:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-                "A Warning.
-
-  "Why, if he loves you, lady, doth he hide
-   His love? So humble is he that his heart
-   Exults not in some sense of new desert
-   With all thy grace and goodness at his side?
-   Ah! trust not thou the love that hath no pride,
-   The pride wherein compunction claims no part,
-   The callous calm no doubts confuse or thwart,
-   The untrembling hope, and joy unsanctified!
-   He of your beauty prates without remorse;
-   You dropped last night a lily; on the sod
-   He let it lie, and fade in nature's course;
-   He looks not on the ground your feet have trod.
-   He smiles but with the lips, your form in view;
-   And he will kiss one day your lips&mdash;not you."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Where did our pious philosopher, of all men, learn to discourse
-thus sagely and plainly of the uncertainty of all things amorous?
-We think he makes a very good case, and only add our emphatic
-indorsement, if that can serve the young lady, and join in
-warning her to find a warmer lover, unless the untrembling and
-unsanctifled is very, very handsome, in which case we know better
-than to advise her at all.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next particularly good piece is the opening one of a
-miscellany, and is called
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-            "The World's Work.
-
-  "Where is the brightness now that long
-     Brimmed saddest hearts with happy tears?
-   It was not time that wrought the wrong:
-     Thy three and twenty vanquished years
-   Crouched reverent, round their spotless prize,
-     <i>Like lions awed that spare a saint</i>;
-   Forbore that face&mdash;a paradise
-     No touch autumnal ere could taint.
-
-  "It was not sorrow. Prosperous love
-     Her amplest streams for thee poured forth,
-   <i>As when the spring in some rich grove
-     With blue-bells spreads a sky on earth.</i>
-   Subverted Virtue! They the most
-     Lament, that seldom deign to sigh;
-   O world! is this fair wreck thy boast?
-     Is this thy triumph, vanity?
-
-  "What power is that which, being nought,
-     Can unmake stateliest works of God?
-   What brainless thing can vanquish thought?
-     What heartless, leave the heart a clod?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272">{272}</a></span>
-   The radiance quench, yet add the glare?
-     <i>Dry up the flood; make loud the shoal!
-   And merciless in malice, spare
-     That mask, a face without a soul?</i>
-
-  "Ah! Parian brows that overshone
-     Eyes bluer than Egean seas!
-   One time God's glory wrote thereon
-     Good-will's two gospels, love and peace.
-   Ah! smile. Around those lips of hers
-     The lustre rippled and was still,
-   As when a gold leaf falling stirs
-     A moment's tremor on the rill!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-We wish to call attention here to the very curious image
-italicized in the second verse. Every one is struck by it at
-once; every one sees the great beauty of it at once: and yet the
-code of a narrow and merely rhetorical criticism would weed it
-out like a wildflower shyly intruding in "ordered gardens great."
-The simile is not at all a particularly happy one in relation to
-the preceding idea; it is well enough, but there have been apter
-similes, and there will be. And reducing it to fact, probably it
-is one of the most exaggerative images ever written. But yet it
-is beautiful&mdash;really beautiful, not a verbal juggle that entraps
-the imagination in fine words. The force lies in the bringing
-into juxtaposition in a new way those old emblems of beauty,
-flowers and sky, and the daring inaccuracy of it only adds a
-charm. It does a poetical thought sometimes no harm to be loose.
-Nature can do clear-cut work enough when she makes things for
-use; but all the visible loveliness of this world is in vague
-outlines, formless masses, incomplete curves. The law that
-softens the distant mountain-tops is the same that makes the
-beauty of these lines. Theirs is the rarer excellence that rises
-above rule. We notice it the more in Mr. De Vere that his
-strength lies generally in the other direction, of photographic
-exactness in reproduction. We like the very looseness of such
-expressions; they are like the flowing robes of beautiful women.
-The third verse also is excellent throughout, especially in the
-fine metaphor in the sixth line, and the intensity of "merciless
-in malice." This makes it so much the more provoking that the end
-is weak, insignificant, and abrupt, and in a vicious style that
-seems to be more and more the fashion of to-day. Still, there
-have been worse things; does not Horace end an ode with
-<i>"Mercuriusque"?</i>
-</p>
-<p>
-The next short song, though nothing remarkable, perhaps, as pure
-poetry, we cite because it is so like the author&mdash;Aubrey De Vere
-all over, and the shortest epitome of his style we have yet seen
-in any of his works.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-               "A Song Of Age.
-
-                       I.
-
-  "Who mourns? Flow on, delicious breeze!
-     Who mourns, though youth and strength go by?
-   Fresh leaves invest the vernal trees,
-     Fresh airs will drown my latest sigh.
-   What am I but a part outworn
-     Of earth's great whole that lifts more high
-   A tempest-freshened brow each morn
-     To meet pure beams and azure sky?
-
-                     II.
-
-  "Thou world-renewing breath, sweep on,
-     And waft earth's sweetness o'er the wave!
-   That earth will circle round the sun
-     When God takes back the life he gave!
-   To each his turn! Even now I feel
-     The feet of children press my grave,
-   And one deep whisper o'er it steal&mdash;
-     The soul is His who died to save.'"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-We like the honesty and earnestness of this none the worse for
-knowing that Mr. De Vere is no longer a young man. And yet does
-it not seem hard to realize that so good a writer has been before
-the public nearly thirty years, and seen a generation of flimsy
-reputations hide him from the eyes of the herd? We can only with
-difficulty realize, beside, that any one with so romantic and
-novel-like a name can ever be old. And will he ever be? Is it not
-true in a deeper and other sense, that whom the gods love die
-young?
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273">{273}</a></span>
-<p>
-The "Lines on Visiting a Haunt of Coleridge's" are not excelled
-by anything in all the volume, but hang so closely together,
-that, having to quote all or nothing, we are constrained by their
-length to pass on to an interpolated copy of verses by S. E. De
-Vere, which gives us a moment's pause. We do not know whether the
-unknown S. E. is a gentleman or lady; whether the mysterious
-initials stand for Saint Elmo or Selah Ebenezer, Sarolta
-Ermengarde or Sarah Elizabeth. But we do know that in this poem,
-"Charity," (p. 276,) is one passage of some beauty, as thus:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "O cruel mockery, to call that love
-   Which the world's frown can wither! Hypocrite!
-   False friend! Base selfish man! fearing to lift
-   Thy soilèd fellow from the dust! <i>From thee
-   The love of friends, the sympathy of kind
-   Recoil like broken waves from a bare cliff,
-   Waves that from far seas come with noiseless step
-   Slow stealing to some lonely ocean isle;
-   With what tumultuous joy and fearless trust
-   They fling themselves upon its blackened breast
-   And wind their arms of foam around its feet,
-   Seeking a home; but finding none, return
-   With slow, sad ripple, and reproachful murmur!"</i>
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-We find concluding the work a set of sonnets called "Urbs Roma,"
-dedicated to the Count de Montalembert; all smooth, polished,
-elegant, and dim; with no salient beauties anywhere that
-distinguish one above another&mdash;golden means. The real climax of
-the volume is at the "Autumnal Ode." This is far the best of the
-new poems, and one of the best of any of its author's, new or
-old. In structure it bears a general resemblance to the rest of
-Mr. De Vere's longer odes; and the style is ripe, lofty, easy,
-and well-sustained. We have already given one citation from its
-rich stores, but there are two more especially worthy of
-attention. The first is a description like the one cited, and
-quite in Mr. De Vere's own vein.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "It is the autumnal epode of the year;
-     The nymphs that urge the seasons on their round,
-   <i>They to whose green lap flies the startled deer
-       When bays the far-off hound,
-   They that drag April by the rain-bright hair,
-   (Though sun showers daze her and the rude winds scare)
-       O'er March's frosty bound,
-   They whose warm and furtive hand unwound
-   The cestus falls from May's new-wedded breast&mdash;</i>
-   Silent they stand beside dead Summer's bier,
-   With folded palms, and faces to the west,
-   And their loose tresses sweep the dewy ground."
-
-                     III.
-
-  "A sacred stillness hangs upon the air,
-     A sacred clearness. Distant shapes draw nigh:
-   Glistens yon elm-grove, to its heart laid bare,
-     And all articulate in its symmetry,
-   With here and there a branch that from on high
-     Far flashes washed as in a watery gleam;
-   <i>Beyond, the glossy lake lies calm&mdash;a beam
-   Upheaved, as if in sleep, from its slow central stream.</i>"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The images, and the way the allegory is sustained, are the beauty
-of the first stanza. The second is perhaps more artistic still.
-The adjective "sacred" is an artful and ingenious one. Without
-any apparent particular propriety in its places&mdash;a hundred other
-words might be effective as qualifications of "stillness" and
-"clearness"&mdash;yet, we find, on passing to the next thought, that
-it has had its result in preparing the mind for a more vivid and
-imaginative view of the whole scene. The remaining delineation is
-exact and cumulative, as our author's descriptions always are;
-and the closing lines are a singularly true and acute observation
-of an effect of light that very few would notice in the actual
-landscape, or will appreciate even now their attention is called
-to it. But people who are sensible enough to <i>bask</i> now and
-then in the ripeness of an autumn day will feel an electric
-contact of recognition.
-</p>
-<p>
-Perhaps we cannot do better than to close this rambling notice
-with the closing lines of this elegant and thoughtful poem:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Man was not made for things that leave us,
-     For that which goeth and returneth,
-   For hopes that lift us yet deceive us,
-     For love that wears a smile yet mournetlh;
-   Not for fresh forests from the dead leaves springing,
-     The cyclic re-creation which, at best,
-   Yields us&mdash;betrayal still to promise clinging&mdash;
-     But tremulous shadows of the realm of rest;
-       For things immortal man was made,
-     God's image, latest from his hand,
-       Co-heir with Him, who in man's flesh arrayd
-     Holds o'er the worlds the heavenly-human wand:
-     His portion this&mdash;sublime
-     To stand where access none hath space or time,
-     Above the starry host, the cherub band,
-     To stand&mdash;to advance&mdash;and after all to stand!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274">{274}</a></span>
-<p>
-These lines are the real end and culmination of a book which
-will, on the whole, do much to raise Mr. De Vere's reputation in
-this country to a level nearer his deserts. With its human share
-of faults, it is a truer, an abler, and a more scholarly book
-than often issues from an American press, and contains everywhere
-lofty and pure thought, with never a taint of evil, and never a
-morally doubtful passage. And we only wish for our country, that,
-of his readers, there may be many in whom these his poems may sow
-motives as unselfish and aims as noble as those which, we
-sincerely believe, inform the inner life of the true poet and
-Christian, Aubrey De Vere.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-             <h2>About Several Things.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-And, to begin with, about the poverty and vice of London! Hood
-and and Adelaide Anne Procter, Dickens, James Greenwood,
-[Footnote 61] have made these more familiar to us than the
-streets of our own cities. We have talked with Nancy on London
-bridge and skulked with Noah Claypole beneath its arches&mdash;swept
-crossings with poor Joe and starved with the little ragamuffin in
-Frying Pan Alley.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 61: <i>Author of a Night in a London Workhouse</i>,
-    and of the <i>True History of a Little Ragamuffin</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The poor of London are representative beings to us all. As we
-walk through the streets, each ragged or threadbare wanderer
-tells us a story heard long ago and half forgotten. That
-miserable woman huddled up in a doorway is a brickmaker's wife,
-and the thin shawl drawn about her shoulders hides the only marks
-of attention she ever receives from her pitiful husband. Her baby
-is dead, thank God! safe beyond the reach of blows and hunger and
-cold. Her story will soon be ended, if we may judge by her thin
-face, and the eager look in her eyes, and the short, hacking
-cough. The shilling you slip into her hand will only prolong her
-misery, but it gives you a moment's consolation, and brings a
-flash of gratitude into her poor face. Good-by, Jenny! When we
-meet you at the judgment-seat of God, we wonder if it will occur
-to us we might have done more for you to-day than give you a
-shilling and a glance of recognition.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Alas for the rarity
-   Of Christian charity
-     Under the sun.
-   Oh! it was pitiful!
-   In a whole city-full
-     Home she had none."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-We wonder if Thomas Hood was much better than other people? If he
-found homes for the homeless and food for the hungry? We cannot
-get Jenny out of our head. Her wants would be so easily supplied.
-In all London is there no place where lodging and fire and food
-are provided for the decent poor?
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275">{275}</a></span>
-<p>
-The portly policeman at the street corner says yes, there are
-several refuges, but the one in this district is kept by Sisters
-of Mercy, in Crispin street, No.30 or thereabouts. Asking poor
-Jenny to follow us, (she manifests a mild surprise at our
-sympathy,) we cross Finbury Circus, pass Bishopsgate street,
-without; and soon find ourselves in Crispin street, standing at
-the modest entrance of the House of Mercy. We are not the only
-applicants for admission this dreary November afternoon. Women
-with children and women without them are sitting on the steps or
-leaning against the wall, waiting for the hour of five to strike,
-blessed signal for the door to open. It is only half-past four
-now, says the sister portress. Jenny must join the throng
-lingering about the house; but we as visitors may come in and see
-the preparations made for their entertainment.
-</p>
-<p>
-This then is the refuge described by Miss Procter, and her pretty
-garland of verses is still sold for its benefit. In 1860, there
-was no Catholic refuge in England, and excellent as were those
-supported by Protestants, they did not supply all demands. Rev.
-Dr. Gilbert of Moorfields Chapel found in a block of buildings,
-called by a pleasant coincidence, "Providence Row," a large empty
-stable separated by a yard from No. 14 Finsbury Square. The
-Sisters of Mercy were then seeking a house more suited to their
-needs than the one in Broad street. The two projects fitted each
-other like mosaic; No. 14 Finsbury Square should be the convent,
-the stable should be the refuge. Benches and beds were provided
-at first for fourteen persons only; but in February, 1861,
-additional provision was made for forty-six women and children.
-Before the month of April, 1862, 14,785 lodgings, with breakfast
-and supper, had been given.
-</p>
-<p>
-But charity is as unsatiable in its desires as self-indulgence,
-and Dr. Gilbert's ideas soon outgrew the stable in Providence
-Row. The present refuge, giving accommodation to three hundred
-adults and children, was opened last autumn. It will be in
-operation from October to May of every year, on week-days from
-five P.M. to half-past seven A.M.; on Sundays, throughout the
-twenty-four hours. In this room on the ground floor, with its
-blazing fire, the women are received for inspection. If any one
-shows herself unworthy of assistance, either by intoxication or
-by the use of bad language, she is turned away. Without doubt
-many sinners are admitted to the refuge, and the sisters rejoice
-in being able to check their course of evil for twelve hours; but
-no one receives hospitality here unless she can conform outwardly
-to the habits of decent persons. This is the only refuge where
-admission depends on the good character of the applicant. It has
-proved an efficient preventive of the contamination so much to be
-dreaded whenever the poor and ignorant are brought together in
-large numbers.
-</p>
-<p>
-The selection of guests being made, their dresses and shawls, wet
-with London fog and mud, are dried by the fire; and the fixture
-basins round the room are placed at their service with a
-bountiful supply of water.
-</p>
-<p>
-From the inspection-room they pass to a large apartment, where
-they have supper, and sit together in warmth and comfort until
-bedtime. The supper consists of a bowl of excellent gruel and
-half a pound of bread for each person. It is to be observed that,
-though the accommodations are good of their kind, affording a
-decent asylum to the homeless, they are not calculated to attract
-those who can find comfortable shelter elsewhere.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276">{276}</a></span>
-<p>
-At an early hour night-prayers are said by a sister, and the
-women are shown to the dormitories. The beds are constructed in
-an ingenious manner, economizing space and making perfect
-cleanliness practicable. Two inclined planes, fastened together
-at the higher end, pass down the middle of the dormitory. Two
-more inclined planes pass down the sides of the room with the
-higher end next the wall. These platforms are partitioned off by
-planks into troughs about two feet wide and six feet long, (that
-is to say, the length of the slope of the platform,) looking much
-like cucumber frames without glass. These are the beds, and at
-the foot of each is a little gate, which can be opened to admit
-of drawing out a sliding plank in the bottom of the trough. This
-is done every morning by the sisters in charge of the
-dormitories, and the floor beneath is swept. But now the little
-gates are closed and the beds are ready for their forlorn
-occupants. Each is furnished with a thick mattress and pillow
-covered with brown enamel cloth and with a large coverlet of
-thick leather. As the women go to bed thoroughly warm and wear
-their clothing, they sleep comfortably under these odd-looking
-quilts; especially the mothers, who often hold one little child
-in their arms while another nestles at their feet. The bedding is
-wiped carefully every morning, and thus the dormitories are kept
-free from vermin. A cell partitioned off at each end of the
-dormitory, with two or three windows, provides the sisters in
-charge with a private room and at the same time with a post of
-observation. The arrangements for water throughout the house are
-excellent, including a hose fixed in the wall of every dormitory,
-ready to be used in case of fire.
-</p>
-<p>
-At half-past six in the morning, the sleepers are roused; at
-seven they have breakfast, consisting, like the supper, of a
-basin of gruel and half a pound of bread. At half-past seven,
-they leave the refuge, some times to be seen no more, sometimes
-to return night after night for weeks together. On Sunday they
-can remain all day. But, as persons are admitted without
-distinction of creed, they are allowed to leave the refuge during
-the hours of morning service to go to church. A short lesson in
-the catechism is given every evening at the refuge; but only
-Catholics are allowed to attend the classes unless occasionally
-by especial permission. They have, for their Sunday dinner, as
-much strong beef soup as they can eat with bread.
-</p>
-<p>
-The arrangements for men are similar to those for women, though
-less extensive. The entrances are separate, and there are
-watchmen in the male dormitory. The refuge provides thirty-two
-beds for men and one hundred and fifty for women. It is by
-packing in children with their parents that so many individuals
-are lodged.
-</p>
-<p>
-The survey of the building ended, we pass out of the front door
-just as five o'clock strikes, and the tattered throng, Jenny
-among them, present themselves for admission. This institution
-could be copied with good effect in several American cities. Its
-system of management guards against two evils. Provision being
-made only for the bare necessities of life, no temptation is
-offered to impostors. Propriety of behavior being ensured by
-strict surveillance, the chance of contamination is materially
-lessened, perhaps wholly removed.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277">{277}</a></span>
-<p>
-It is no unusual thing, even in the United States, for men and
-boys, women and girls, to spend a night in the station-house
-because they have no other place to sleep. A refuge is less
-expensive than other charitable establishments. The first cost of
-a building is considerable; the annual outlay in provisions,
-fuel, and light, comparatively trifling. The money spent every
-year in indiscriminate almsgiving in a large city would serve to
-support a night refuge for several hundred persons. But while
-providing for the houseless poor of to-day, we should remember
-that their numbers are increasing with every successive
-generation. The children of our poorest class must be rescued
-from their present migratory life, divided between street, jail,
-and penitentiary.
-</p>
-<p>
-Much has been done for girls, and we can only desire an extension
-of the work. With an increase of funds, the Sisters of Charity,
-of Mercy, of the Good Shepherd, and of Notre Dame could
-accomplish a mission of great importance to the future prosperity
-of our country. These ladies devote their lives to saving from
-misery and degradation the children of those who cannot or will
-not perform a parent's duty. They need money to accomplish this.
-We too often dole it out to them as if they had asked alms for
-themselves. Let us give them not only money but sympathy and
-encouragement. Many a good work has failed for want of friendly
-words to give the strength for one final vigorous effort.
-</p>
-<p>
-But what is to be done for the boys? They may be divided into
-three classes. First, children guilty of no worse crime than
-friendlessness. Second, small boys obnoxious to the police for
-petty infringements of the laws; third, newsboys, bootblacks, and
-costermongers, more or less familiar with the vices of city life.
-The third class is developed from the other two, because
-neglected poverty naturally gravitates to vice and crime.
-</p>
-<p>
-The development of a true ragamuffin is a process painfully
-interesting to watch. At an age when the children of the rich
-take sober walks attended by nursery-maid or governess, he knows
-the streets as well as any watchman. At seven years old, he is
-arrested by some energetic policeman for throwing stones,
-bathing, stealing a bunch of grapes, or some other first-class
-felony. Once in the hands of the law, there is no redress for him
-unless he is "bailed out." He must go to jail to wait for
-trial-day&mdash;perhaps three or four weeks. The turnkeys do their
-best for him; find him a decent companion if he is frightened,
-or, still better, give him a cell to himself, where he looks more
-like a squirrel in a cage than a criminal offender. I have seen
-in one day four mere babies in prison for "breaking and
-entering!"
-</p>
-<p>
-But, with all the precautions used in a well-ordered jail to
-prevent mischief, our infant ragamuffin comes out older by many
-years than he went in. He has been in prison, and his tiny
-reputation is gone for ever. A few years later he comes back,
-arrested for some grave misdemeanor; a sly, old-fashioned little
-rogue by this time, gifted with an ingenuity fitting him
-admirably to be the tool of some professional thief. Then begins
-a course of sojourns in workhouses and juvenile penitentiaries.
-By and by he reappears in jail with a smart suit of clothes, the
-fruit of a successful burglary, and you are informed with an air
-of conscious superiority that this time it is a house of
-correction or State's prison offence. There is ambition in crime
-as well as in other careers, we may be sure. He grows up to be a
-drunkard, a libertine, a bad husband, and the father of children
-more degraded than himself. We know of an entire family having
-been in prison at one time, father, mother, and all the children.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278">{278}</a></span>
-<p>
-Who is to blame for this career of vice and crime? Not the
-officers of the jail, who bitterly regret the necessity of
-receiving children, but cannot set them free. Not the judges, who
-are sworn to administer the laws as they stand, not to improve
-upon them.
-</p>
-<p>
-The police are to blame for exercising their enthusiasm for order
-upon babies, instead of making examples of grown men guilty of
-similar misdemeanors, but harder to catch.
-</p>
-<p>
-The public is to blame for making insufficient provision for the
-reclamation of juvenile offenders. Above all, we Catholics are to
-blame, because these are usually the children of foreign parents,
-and Catholics, at least in name.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us build an asylum in the air for these poor little urchins.
-Aerial philanthropy requires no funds, and very little executive
-ability. Who knows but our plan may be carried out in earnest,
-one of these days, by some Dr. Gilbert, trustful of small
-beginnings, and content to let his project first see the light in
-a stable?
-</p>
-<p>
-We would have <i>one division</i> devoted to little orphans, and
-children whose parents are willing to resign them for a time or
-for ever.
-</p>
-<p>
-A second division should be given to the infant criminals of whom
-we have just spoken. Their offences are always bailable. A
-trustworthy person should be employed to go bail for all children
-under ten years of age, and bring them to the asylum to await
-their trial. The judges gladly sentence children to serve out a
-term at a juvenile home instead of sending them to
-penitentiaries. Thus we should recover them after their trial,
-for a length of time proportioned to the importance of severing
-old associations. Their circumstances should be thoroughly
-investigated and reported to the judge&mdash;character of parents,
-place of residence, etc., etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-These two divisions should be under the charge of female
-religious; with several male attendants to do menial work and
-enforce discipline in the few instances where strong measures
-might be necessary, but without possessing any authority except
-the reflected one of acting under the matron's orders. The
-necessity of vigilance can hardly be exaggerated. One child of
-vicious habits can corrupt many more. But since direct
-surveillance is irritating even to children, a routine of light
-and frequently-varied occupation would be found useful in giving
-vent to restless activity, which is at the root of many childish
-misdemeanors. The superintendents must learn to distinguish fun
-from mischief; energy from insubordination.
-</p>
-<p>
-A third division should provide a refuge for newsboys and others
-of the same tribe. These older boys should be under the charge of
-the Christian Brothers. An evening school, a library of books
-such as boys enjoy, and a collection of innocent games would form
-an important element in the plan of management. They should be
-persuaded to put a portion of their earnings in the savings bank,
-and induced if possible to alter their roving life and learn a
-trade. Preference should be shown to lads of correct life over
-those who have been in prison, but encouragement and countenance
-given to every boy willing to conform to the rules of the refuge.
-We lay less stress upon separating the good from the bad among
-the lads for two reasons. A boy of fourteen or fifteen who has
-not been corrupted by street life must be temptation-proof. It is
-difficult to judge the respective merits of lads of that age or
-to learn their past histories. They must to a great extent be
-taken on trust.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279">{279}</a></span>
-<p>
-In the course of a few years a fourth division would become
-necessary to provide for the little boys grown too old for
-petticoat government. This division should also be under the
-charge of the Christian Brothers.
-</p>
-<p>
-The institution would be very expensive, unless it were made
-partially self-supporting. There is a good deal of light work
-connected with trades that might be done by boys resident in the
-house. Perhaps in time city governments would wake up to the fact
-that it costs less to give boys a good plain education than to
-support rogues and paupers; but our dream of charity is rudely
-dispersed by a yawn from our companion and a suggestion that we
-should reach Piccadilly sooner by the underground railroad than
-on foot. The gaslights stare despondingly at me through the
-yellow fog. A London Arab solicits a penny for clearing the slimy
-crossing, and wonders at the glow of charity with which we press
-sixpence into his grimy palm. Where are we? In London? Yes, but
-there are orphans wandering homeless about the streets of
-American cities, too; bootblacks going to destruction by scores;
-tiny children falling victims to the misplaced zeal of policemen;
-and not even the corner-stone of our asylum is laid!
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-     <h2>A Chinese Husband's Lament For His Wife.</h2>
-  <h3>Translated From The French Of M. Stanislas Julien,<br>
-    Professor Of The Chinese Language, Paris.</h3>
-
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                    I.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was in the fifth watch of the first day of the year, when the
-winter's cold was most intense, that my tender wife died. Can
-there be on earth a man more unhappy than I? O my wife! if thou
-wert still here, I would give thee a new robe for the new year;
-but woe is me, thou art gone down to the sombre abode where flows
-the yellow fountain. Would that husband and wife could see one
-another again! Come to me in the night&mdash;come to me in the third
-watch&mdash;let me renew for a little while the sweetness of the past.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                   II.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the second moon, when spring has come, and the sun stays each
-day longer in the sky, every family washes its robes and linen in
-pure water, and husbands who have still their wives love to adorn
-them with new garments. But I, who have lost mine, am wasting my
-life away in grief; I cannot even bear to see the little shoes
-that enclosed her pretty feet!
-Sometimes I think that I will take another companion; but where
-can I find another so beautiful, wise, and kind!
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280">{280}</a></span>
-<p class="center">
-                   III.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the third moon, the peach-tree opens its rose-colored
-blossoms, and the willow is bedecked with green tresses. Husbands
-who have still their wives go with them to visit the tombs of
-their fathers and friends. But I who have lost mine go alone to
-visit <i>her</i> grave, and to wet with my hot tears the spot
-where her ashes repose. I present funereal offerings to her
-shade; I burn images of gilded paper in her honor. "Tender wife,"
-I cry with a tearful voice, "where art thou, where art thou?" But
-she, alas! hears me not. I see the solitary tomb, but I cannot
-see my wife!
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                   IV.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the fourth moon, the air is pure and serene, and the sun
-shines forth in all his splendor. How many ungrateful husbands
-then give themselves up to pleasure and forget the wife they have
-lost! Husband and wife are like two birds of the same forest;
-when the fatal hour arrives, each one flies off a different way.
-I am like a man, who, beguiled by the sweet fancies of an
-enchanting dream, seeks, when he awakes, the young beauty that
-charmed his imagination while he slept, but finds around him only
-silence and solitude. So much loveliness, so much sweetness
-vanished in one morning! Why, alas! could not two friends, so
-dearly united, live and grow gray together!
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                   V.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the fifth moon, the dragon-headed boats float gaily on the
-waters. Exquisite wines are heated, and baskets are filled up
-with delicious fruits. Each year at this season, I delighted to
-enjoy the pleasures of these simple feasts with my wife and
-children. But now I am weary and restless, a prey to the
-bitterest anguish. I weep all day and all night, and my heart
-seems ready to break. Ah! what do I see at this moment? Pretty
-children at merry play before my door. Yes, I can understand that
-they are happy; they have a mother to press them to her bosom. Go
-away, dear children, your joyous gambols tear my heart.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                   VI.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the sixth moon, the burning heat of the day is almost
-unbearable. The rich and the poor then spread their clothes out
-to air. I will expose one of my wife's silken robes, and her
-embroidered shoes to the sun's warm beams. See! here is the dress
-she used to wear on festal days, here are the elegant little
-slippers that fitted her pretty feet so well. But where is my
-wife? Oh! where is the mother of my children? I feel as if a cold
-steel blade were cutting into my heart.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                   VII.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the seventh moon, my eyes overflow with tears; for it is then
-that Nieaulan visits his wife Tchi-niu in heaven. Once I also had
-a beautiful wife, but she is lost to me for ever. That fair face,
-lovelier than the flowers, is constantly before me. Whether in
-movement or at rest, the remembrance of her that is gone from me
-never ceases to rack my bosom. What day have I forgotten to think
-of my tender wife&mdash;what night have I not wept till morning?
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                  VIII.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the fifteenth day of the eighth moon, her disk is seen in its
-greatest splendor, and men and women then offer to the gods
-melons and cakes, ball-like in form as the orb of night. Husbands
-and wives stroll together in the fields and groves, and enjoy the
-soft moonlight.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281">{281}</a></span>
-But the round disk of the moon can only remind <i>me</i> of the
-wife I have lost. At times, to solace my grief I quaff a cup of
-generous wine; at times I take my guitar, but my trembling hand
-can draw forth no sound. Friends and relations invite me to their
-houses, but my sorrowful heart refuses to share in their
-pleasures.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                   IX.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the ninth moon, the chrysanthemum opens its golden cup, and
-every garden exhales a balmy odor. I would gather a bunch of
-newly-blown flowers if I had still a wife whose hair they could
-adorn! My eyes are weary with weeping&mdash;my hands are withered with
-grief, and I beat a fleshless breast. I enter the tasteful room
-that was once my wife's; my two children follow me, and come to
-embrace my knees. They take my hands in theirs, and speak to me
-with choking voices; but by their tears and sobs I know they ask
-me for their mother.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                   X.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the first day of the tenth moon, both rich and poor present
-their wives with winter clothing. But to whom shall I offer
-winter clothing? I, who have no wife! When I think of her who
-rested her head on my pillow, I weep and burn images of gilded
-paper. I send them as offerings to her who now dwells beside the
-yellow fountain. I know not if these funereal gifts will be of
-use to her shade; but at least her husband will have paid her a
-tribute of love and regret.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                   XI.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the eleventh moon, I salute winter, and again deplore my
-beautiful wife. Half of the silken counterpane covers an empty
-place in the cold bed where I dare not stretch out my legs. I
-sigh and invoke heaven; I pray for pity. At the third watch I
-rise without having slept, and weep till dawn.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-                  XII.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the twelfth moon, in the midst of the winter's cold, I called
-on my sweet wife. "Where art thou," I cried; "I think of thee
-unceasingly, yet I cannot see thy face!" On the last night of the
-year she appeared to me in a dream. She pressed my hand in hers;
-she smiled on me with tearful eyes; she encircled me in her
-caressing arms, and filled my soul with happiness. "I pray thee,"
-she whispered, "weep no more when thou rememberest me. Henceforth
-I will come thus each night to visit thee in thy dreams."
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282">{282}</a></span>
-<br>
-            <h2>A May Flower.</h2>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  A look and a word, my sweet lady;
-    A thought of your kind heart, I pray,
-  For a flower that blooms by the roadside,
-    This beautiful morning in May.
-
-  I know that engagements await you;
-    I know you have many to meet;
-  Yet, pray, linger here for a moment,
-    And look at this flower of the street.
-
-  'Tis but May, my sweet lady, and hardly
-    Has spring had the time to look bright;
-  Yet this flower it called into being
-    Already is smitten with blight.
-
-  Already upon its fair leaflets
-    Lie heavy the grime and the dust;
-  Its shrivelled and lack-lustre petals,
-    Tell a story&mdash;stop, lady!&mdash;you must.
-
-  For a soul is in danger, my lady,
-    The soul of this drooping street flower;
-  And you by a look can recall it
-    To life, or 'twill die in an hour.
-
-  Ah me! if you knew but the power
-    Of one word of kindness from you;
-  Could you see what a tempest of passion
-    A glance of your eye would subdue!
-
-  What hope once again would awaken
-    To arm this poor soul for the right!
-  Thanks, my lady! Go happily onward,
-    The tempted is strengthened with might.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283">{283}</a></span>
-<br>
-          <h2>New Publications.</h2>
-
-<p class="cite">
-  The Formation Of Christendom.<br>
-  Part II.<br>
-  By T. W. Allies.<br>
-  London: Longmans, Green, Reader & Dyer.<br>
-  New-York: The Catholic Publication Society.
-</p>
-<p>
-This volume is the dictation of a scholarly mind and the work of
-an experienced pen. It forms the second volume of a work not yet
-complete, the first part of which appeared in 1865. In the six
-chapters which composed the first volume, as the author tells us
-in his advertisement to the present one, he described
-Christianity creating anew, as it were, and purifying and
-introducing supernatural principles into the individual soul;
-showing how the new religion restored the fallen dignity of man
-by insisting on his individuality and personal responsibility, by
-consecrating the married and counselling the virginal life. The
-vile secrets of that viler pagan society are partly revealed, and
-the influence of the Gospel is shown in a graceful parallel
-between St. Augustine and Cicero. The author further says, that,
-having examined the foundations, he has now reached the building
-itself and comes "to consider the Christian Church in its
-historical development as a kingdom of truth and grace; for while
-the soul of man is the unit with which it works, 'Christendom'
-betokens a society." It is then the first epoch of such a kingdom
-that the author would describe in the present volume.
-Accordingly, we have a graphic account of the polytheism which,
-at the birth of Christ, reigned throughout the world, save in one
-of its most insignificant lands, the frightful power of this
-false worship, its relation to civilization, to the political
-constitution of the empire, to national feeling in the provinces,
-to despotism and slavery, and its hostile preparations for the
-advent of the "Second Man." Then follows the teaching of Christ
-and the institution of his church, a statement of the nature of
-the latter, its manner of teaching and propagation, its
-episcopacy and primacy. Then, a picture of the history of the
-martyr church through the first three centuries, its sublime
-patience under persecution, and its struggle with swarming
-heresies that menaced from within. After this, the author
-prepares for a dissertation on that strife between Christianity
-and heathen philosophy, which terminated on the downfall of the
-Alexandrian school, by sketching the history and influence of
-Greek philosophy until the reign of Claudius; and, reserving this
-dissertation for a future volume, the author closes the present
-number of his contemplated series. It is a serious disadvantage
-to any work to be published piecemeal. Nevertheless, English
-readers, interested in the study of the early ages, and
-especially those who have read with pleasure Mr. Allies's former
-productions, will be glad to notice the publication of this
-volume. But Mr. Allies's work, also, belongs to a class, small
-indeed, but all the more worthy of encouragement, namely, that of
-original Catholic histories in the English language. It is,
-therefore, an attempt to partially supply a want which no one
-book, however popular, can adequately meet. In the face of an
-ungrateful heathenism that to-day secretly sighs after the
-Augustan age, and openly asks, "What has been gained by all this
-religion?" daring to draw unjust parallels between the heroes of
-Christian tradition and contemporary pagan models, it is the duty
-of all who love the Christian name to encourage true historical
-criticism; that men may know all that they at present owe to the
-Catholic Church; and if they will not acknowledge her to-day as
-the guide to true civilization, may learn from the record of the
-past how her genius has presided over all that is greatest and
-noblest in the past history of mankind.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284">{284}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Thunder And Lightning.<br>
-  By W. De Fonvielle.<br>
-  Translated from the French, and
-  edited by T. L. Phipson, Ph.D.<br>
-  Illustrated with thirty nine engravings on wood.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo, pp. 216.
-<br><br>
-  The Wonders Of Optics.<br>
-  By F. Marion.<br>
-  Translated from the French,
-  and edited by Charles W. Quinn, F.C.S.<br>
-  Illustrated with seventy engravings on wood.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo, pp. 248.<br>
-  New York: Charles Scribner & Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-These two volumes are the first issues of the "Illustrated
-Library of Wonders," to be published by Messrs. Scribner & Co.
-They are highly interesting to the general reader, as well as to
-persons of scientific attainments. The accounts given of the
-peculiar and novel freaks of lightning are curious and
-instructive. The illustrations in both volumes are well executed,
-and make these books specially attractive to young people. In the
-work on optics, the telescope, magic lantern, magic mirror, etc.,
-are fully explained.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Why Men Do Not Believe;<br>
-  Or, The Principal Causes Of Infidelity.<br>
-  By N.J. Laforet, Rector of the Catholic University of Louvain.<br>
-  Translated from the French.<br>
-  New York: The Catholic Publication Society,<br>
-  126 Nassau Street.<br>
-  Pp. 252. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-Whoever has had the happiness of attending the Catholic Congress
-of Belgium must have noticed among the distinguished gentlemen
-seated by the side of the president the prepossessing,
-intellectual countenance of Mgr. Laforet, the Rector Magnificus
-of the University of Louvain. Although still a young man, he
-holds a high place among the writers who adorn European Catholic
-literature. His best known and most elaborate work is an
-excellent <i>History of Philosophy</i>. In the present volume,
-which is quite unpretending in size, and written in such a simple
-and easy style as to be easily readable by any person of ordinary
-education, he has, perhaps, rendered even a greater service to
-the cause of religion and sound science than by his more
-elaborate works. It is an excellent little treatise on the causes
-of infidelity, which has already produced happy fruits among his
-own countrymen by bringing back a number of persons to the
-Christian faith, and we trust is destined to accomplish a still
-greater amount of good in its English as well as its French
-dress.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mgr. Laforet assigns as the causes of the infidelity which
-prevails, unhappily, to such a considerable extent in our days,
-ignorance of the real grounds and nature of the Christian
-religion, materialism, and the consequent moral degradation which
-it has produced. He denies in a peremptory manner that it has
-been caused by progress in science or the more perfect
-development of the reasoning faculty, and supports this denial by
-abundant and conclusive proofs. The origin of modern infidelity
-he traces historically and logically to Protestantism, showing
-that it has been transplanted into France and other Catholic
-countries from England and Germany. Anti-Catholic writers are
-fond of retorting upon us the charge that Protestantism breeds
-infidelity by the countercharge that Catholicity breeds
-infidelity. They say that it lays too great a burden on reason by
-teaching, as Christian doctrine, dogmas that intelligent,
-educated men cannot receive without doing violence to their
-reason. They point to the infidelity that prevails to a certain
-extent among educated men in Catholic countries as a proof of
-this assumption. The writer of an article in a late number of
-<i>Putnam's Monthly</i>, entitled, "The Coming Controversy," has
-reiterated this charge, and alleges the fact that some of the
-educated laymen belonging to the Catholic Church in the United
-States do not approach the sacraments, as an evidence that they
-have lost their faith, which is a corroboration of the alleged
-charge against the Catholic religion of breeding infidelity in
-intelligent, thinking minds.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285">{285}</a></span>
-The whole of this specious argument is a fabric of sand. In the
-first place, it is no proof that men have lost their faith
-because they do not act in accordance with it. The entire body of
-negligent Catholics are not to be classed among infidels, any
-more than negligent Jews or Protestants. Nevertheless, we would
-call the attention of those Catholic gentlemen of high standing
-who neglect the practice of their religious duties, and fail to
-take that active part on the side of the church and of God which
-they ought to take, to the scandal they thus give and to the
-occasion which the enemies of the church take from their criminal
-apathy to revile that faith for which their ancestors have
-suffered and contended so nobly. Neither is it true that anywhere
-in the world the apostates from the faith are superior in
-intelligence and culture to its loyal adherents. We hear too much
-of this boasting from free-thinkers and infidels of their
-intellectual superiority. On the field of philosophy and positive
-religion they have been completely discomfited by the champions
-of religion. Some of their ablest men have passed over to our
-camp convinced by the pure force of argument, as, for instance,
-Thierry, Maine de Biran, Droz, and to a certain extent Cousin.
-Many others, and recently one most notorious individual, Jules
-Havin, the chief editor of the infamous <i>Siècle</i>, of Paris,
-have repented at the hour of death. D'Holbach, one of the chiefs
-of the infidel party in France, thus writes: "We must allow that
-corruption of manners, debauchery, license, and even frivolity of
-mind, may often lead to irreligion or infidelity. &hellip; Many people
-give up prejudices they had adopted through vanity and on
-hearsay; these pretended free-thinkers have examined nothing for
-themselves; they rely on others whom they suppose to have weighed
-matters more carefully. How can men, given up to voluptuousness
-and debauchery, plunged in excess, ambitious, intriguing,
-frivolous, and dissipated&mdash;or depraved women of wit and
-fashion&mdash;how can such as these be capable of forming an opinion
-of a religion they have never examined?" [Footnote 62] La Bruyère
-says, "Do our <i>esprits forts</i> know that they are called thus
-in irony?" [Footnote 63] It is no argument against either
-Catholicity or Protestantism that infidelity exists in Catholic
-or Protestant countries. Before this fact can be made to tell in
-any way against either religion it must be proved that it
-contains principles which lead logically to infidelity, or
-proposes dogmas which are rationally incredible, and thus
-produces a reaction against all divine revelation. This has never
-been done, and never can be done in respect to the Catholic
-religion. So far as Protestantism is concerned, it has been done
-repeatedly and can be done easily. We do not rejoice in this; on
-the contrary, we grieve over it, and our sympathies are with
-those Protestants, such as Guizot, Dr. McCosh, President Hopkins,
-and others who defend the great truths of spiritual philosophy,
-of Theism, the divine mission of Moses and Christ, and other
-Christian doctrines against modern infidelity. Nevertheless, we
-cannot help pointing out the fact that they are illogical as
-Protestants in doing this, and are unable, after giving the
-evidences of the credibility of Christianity, to state what
-Christianity is in such a manner as completely to satisfy the
-just demands of human reason, or to justify their own position as
-seceders from the genuine Christendom.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 62: <i>Système de la Nature</i>, tom. ii. c. 13.
-    Cited on page 106. ]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 63: <i>Les Caractères</i>, ch. xvi. Cited on page
-    188.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Our own youth are exposed to the temptation of infidelity on
-account of their imperfect religious education, and the influence
-of the Protestant world in which they live, saturated as it is
-with the most pestilent and poisonous influences of heresy,
-infidelity, and immorality. Good Protestants they will never
-become. They can only be good Catholics, bad Catholics, or
-infidels. Our friends of the Protestant clergy have no reason,
-therefore, to count up and exult over those who are lost from the
-Catholic fold, for Satan is the only gainer.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286">{286}</a></span>
-Let us have a sufficient number of clergy of the right sort, an
-ample supply of churches, colleges, schools, and Catholic
-literature, and we will engage that the desire for a purer and
-more spiritual religion will never lead our Catholic youth to
-become Protestants, or the desire for a more elevated and solid
-science make them infidels. Such books as the one we are noticing
-are of just the kind we want, and we recommend it warmly to all
-thinking young men and women, to all parents and teachers, and to
-all readers generally.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Montarges Legacy.<br>
-  By Florence McCoomb.<br>
-  Philadelphia: P. F. Cunningham. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-We thank the gentle author of this charming story for the
-satisfaction derived from its perusal. Not wishing, by entering
-into detail of plot or incident, to diminish the pleasure in
-store for its readers, we will merely say that, while
-sufficiently exciting, it is by no means morbidly sensational;
-that the characters are well portrayed; the incidents varied; the
-dialogue not strained, yet not monotonous; the descriptive
-portion easy and natural; and that, pervading all, is a true
-Catholic spirit.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Anne Severin.<br>
-  By Mrs. Augustus Craven.<br>
-  New York: The Catholic Publication Society.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo, pp. 411. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-We do not like the controversially religious novel. There is
-generally too much pedantry; too great an admixture of theology,
-politics, and love, to suit our taste. But the story of <i>Anne
-Severin</i>, by the gifted author of <i>A Sister's Story</i>, is
-not of this kind, it is permeated throughout with a purely
-religious feeling; just enough, however, to make it interesting,
-and to give the reader to understand that the writer is truly
-Catholic in all she writes. The scene of the story opens in
-England, about the beginning of this century, when there were
-"troublous times in France," and changes to the latter country,
-where the thread of the narrative is spun out. The heroine, Anne
-Severin, is not an ideal character. It is one that is not rare in
-Catholic countries, or in Catholic society. She is a true woman,
-in the truest sense of the word, a model for our daughters. The
-contrast between her and the English-reared girl, Eveleen
-Devereux, is clearly drawn. The one truthful, religious,
-conscientious in all her actions, kind, amiable, and loveable;
-the other, fickle-minded, constantly wavering, and a flirt,
-courting admiration for admiration's sake, yet intending to do
-right in her own way, but failing because she did not have the
-<i>true</i> religious teaching that Anne Severin had. No better
-book of the kind could be put in the hands of Catholics as well
-as non-Catholics of both sexes. No one can help for a moment to
-see in what consists the difference between these two women. Anne
-Severin had a positive, soul-sustaining faith to fall back upon
-in her troubles. Eveleen Devereux had nothing but the emptiness
-of a religion of the world which failed her in the hour of
-tribulation.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Eudoxia: A Picture Of The Fifth Century.<br>
-  Freely translated from the German of Ida,
-  Countess Hahn Hahn.<br>
-  Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. Pp. 287. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This historical tale, which has already appeared as a serial in
-an English periodical, and also in an American newspaper, has
-been very favorably received on both sides of the Atlantic. It is
-now issued in handsome book form, and will, no doubt, have, as it
-deserves, an extensive circulation.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Illustrated Catholic Sunday School Library.<br>
-  Third Series. 12 vols. pp. 144 each.<br>
-  New York: The Catholic Publication Society,<br>
-  126 Nassau Street. 1869.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287">{287}</a></span>
-<p>
-The titles of the volumes contained in this series are:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Bad Example;<br>
-  May-Day, and other Tales;<br>
-  The Young Astronomer, and other Tales;<br>
-  James Chapman;<br>
-  Angel Dreams;<br>
-  Ellerton Priory;<br>
-  Idleness and Industry;<br>
-  The Hope of the Katzekopfs;<br>
-  St. Maurice;<br>
-  The Young Emigrants;<br>
-  Angels' Visits;<br>
-  and The Scrivener's Daughter, and other Tales.
-</p>
-<p>
-That in the variety of its contents this series is fully equal to
-its predecessors is evident from the above list; and the careful
-supervision to which each issue is subjected renders it
-unnecessary to say another word in its praise. We can safely
-promise a rare treat to our young friends when, either
-well-deserving at school, or an indulgent parent, will have made
-them happy in its possession.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Sunday-school Class-book.<br>
-  New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This last work of The Catholic Publication Society will be
-appreciated by every Sunday-school teacher who has experienced
-the torments of an ill-arranged and poorly-made classbook. The
-chief characteristics of this small but important work are
-<i>clearness</i> and <i>completeness</i>. Its new feature is the
-plain, brief, but very decided rules to be found on the inside of
-each cover. In size it allows a goodly space for marks in detail.
-In binding and quality of paper, it is far in advance of anything
-yet offered to the Catholic Sunday-school teacher. It provides a
-"register" for eighteen or twenty scholars, in which should be
-plainly and neatly written the names, etc., of each member of the
-class. Then comes a monthly record, extending across two pages,
-in which allowance is made for "the fifth" Sunday, and a space
-for a "Monthly Report." And in this we have the grand improvement
-on all other classbooks in use.
-</p>
-<p>
-Twelve such double pages are furnished, thus covering the space
-of one year; and on the last half-page there are columns provided
-for a yearly report, in which plain figures must be placed by
-every teacher to the satisfaction of superintendents, who have so
-often experienced the mortifying necessity of declaring teachers'
-methods of marking more mysterious than hieroglyphics.
-</p>
-<p>
-What has long been needed is not a class-book fitted for the
-educated few who devote their spare hours to Sunday-school
-teaching, nor a mere record book for large and continually
-changing classes of beginners, but a plain, comprehensive book
-which any teacher can understand at a glance, and which will
-enable him to influence the conduct, if not the studious habits,
-of those committed to his charge, instead of calling for an extra
-waste of time, in order to mark with precision in perhaps a badly
-lighted school-house. Let every teacher send for a copy, examine
-it for himself, and see how simple this often neglected duty can
-be made. If the rules which are contained therein be attended to,
-there will be no necessity of carrying the book away from the
-school, which arrangement insures the double object of marking
-while the impression of each recitation is fresh and of having
-the book in readiness to mark at the next recitation. And, until
-every teacher attends to both these duties, in spite of
-qualifications in other respects, he will still have much to
-learn before he becomes a perfect Sunday-school teacher.
-</p>
-<p>
-This little book is substantially bound in cloth, and is sold for
-twenty cents a copy, or, to Sunday-schools, at two dollars per
-dozen.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Studious Women.<br>
-  From the French of Monseigneur Dupanloup, Bishop of Orleans.<br>
-  Translated by R. M. Phillimore.<br>
-  Boston: P. Donahoe. Pp. 105. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This able essay of the Bishop of Orleans was translated for and
-appeared in <i>The Catholic World</i> very soon after its
-appearance in France, nearly two years ago. We see Mr. Donahoe
-has used the London translation.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288">{288}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  Poems.<br>
-  By James McClure.<br>
-  New York: P. O'Shea. Pp. 148. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-We cannot praise the "poems" contained in this volume, and the
-modesty of the author's preface disarms adverse criticism.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  A Manual Of General History:<br>
-  being an outline history of the world
-  from the creation to the present time.<br>
-  Fully illustrated with maps.<br>
-  For the use of academies,
-  high-schools, and families.<br>
-  By John J. Anderson, A.M.<br>
-  New York: Clark & Maynard. Pp. 401. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This compendium is in some respects inaccurate; much that is
-comparatively trivial is admitted, while really important events
-are entirely ignored; and on certain points there is, if not an
-actual anti-Catholic bias, an absence, at least, of that strict
-impartiality to be demanded, as of right, in all compilations
-intended for use as text-books in our public schools.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-The Catholic Publication Society has now in press the Chevalier
-Rossi's famous work on the Roman Catacombs&mdash;<i>Roma
-Sotterranea</i>. It is being compiled, translated, and prepared
-for the English reading public by the Very Rev. J. Spencer
-Northcote, D.D., president of Oscott College, Birmingham, and
-author of a small treatise on the catacombs. The present work
-will make a large octavo volume of over five hundred pages, and
-will be copiously illustrated by wood-cuts and
-chromo-lithographs&mdash;the latter printed under De Rossi's personal
-supervision. This will be an important addition to our
-literature, and will, we doubt not, attract considerable
-attention in this country. The same Society will have ready about
-May 1st, <i>Why People do not Believe</i>&mdash;a library edition as
-well as a cheap edition; <i>Glimpses of Pleasant Homes</i>, by
-the author of <i>Mother McCauley</i>, with four full-page
-illustrations; <i>Impressions of Spain</i>, by Lady Herbert, with
-fifteen full-page illustrations. The two last-mentioned books
-will be very appropriate for college and school premiums. <i>In
-Heaven we know Our Own </i> will be ready in June. The Fourth
-Series of the <i>Illustrated Catholic Sunday-School Library</i>
-is also in preparation. <i>The Life of Mother Margaret Mary
-Hallahan, O.S.D.</i>, founder of the Dominican Conventual
-Tertiaries in England, is announced, and will be ready in June or
-July.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-Messrs. John Murphy & Co., Baltimore, announce as in
-press <i>The Life And Letters Of The
-Rev. Frederick William Faber, D.D.</i>,
-Priest of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri.
-By Rev. John E. Bowden, priest of the same oratory.
-</p>
-<p>
-P. F. Cunningham, Philadelphia, has in
-press, and will soon publish,
-<i>Ferncliffe</i>.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="center">
-        Books Received.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Joseph Shannon, Clerk of the Common Council, New York.
-Manual of the Corporation of the City of New York for 1868.
-</p>
-<p>
-From P. Donahoe, Boston:
-America in its Relation to Irish Emigration.<br>
-By John Francis Maguire,
-Member of Parliament for the City of Cork.
-Swd. Pp. 24.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Fields, Osgood & Co., Boston:<br>
-The Danish Islands: Are we bound in honor to pay for them?<br>
-By James Parton. Swd. Pp. 76. 1869.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289">{289}</a></span>
-<br>
-          <h1>The Catholic World.</h1>
-
-     <h3>Vol. IX., No. 51.-June, 1869.</h3>
-
-<hr>
-
-         <h2>Spiritism And Spiritists.</h2>
-		 <p class="center_close">
-            [Footnote 64]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 64: 1. <i>Planchette; or, the Despair of
-    Science</i>. Being a full Account of Modern Spiritualism, its
-    Phenomena, and the various Theories regarding it. With a
-    Survey of French Spiritism. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1869.
-<br><br>
-    2. <i>Des Rapports de l'Homme avec le Démon</i>. Essai
-    Historique et Philosophique. Par Joseph Bizouard, Avocat.
-    Paris: Gaume Frères et J. Duprey. 1863 et 1864. Tome VI.,
-    8vo.
-<br><br>
-    3. <i>The Spirit-Rapper. An Autobiography</i>. By o. A.
-    Brownson. Boston: Little, Brown & Co. 1854.
-<br><br>
-    4. <i>Interesting Facts in relation to Spirit Life and
-    Manifestations</i>. By Judge Edmonds. New York: Spiritual
-    Magnetic Telegraphic Agency.
-<br><br>
-    5. Spiritualism Unveiled, and shown to be the Work of Demons.
-    By Miles Grant. Boston: <i>The Crisis</i> Office.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Worcester, in his dictionary, gives as the second meaning of the
-word <i>spiritualism</i>, "the doctrine that departed spirits
-hold communication with men," and gives as his authority O. A.
-Brownson. We think this must be a mistake; for Dr. Brownson uses
-in his <i>Spirit-Rapper</i>, the term <i>spiritism</i>, which is
-the more proper term, as it avoids confounding the doctrine of
-the spiritists with the philosophical doctrine which stands
-opposed to materialism, or, more strictly, sensism, and the moral
-doctrine opposed to sensualism. We generally use the word
-<i>spiritual</i> in religion as opposed to natural, or for the
-life and aims of the regenerate, who walk after the spirit, in
-opposition to those who walk after the flesh, and are
-carnal-minded. To avoid all confusion or ambiguity which would
-result from using a word already otherwise appropriated, we
-should use the terms <i>spiritism</i>, spiritists, and spirital.
-</p>
-<p>
-The author of <i>Planchette</i> has availed himself largely of
-the voluminous work of the learned Joseph Bizouard, the second
-work named on our list, and gives all that can be said, and more
-than we can say, in favor of spiritism. He has given very fully
-one side of the question, all that need be said in support of the
-reality of the order of phenomena which he describes, while the
-French work gives all sides; but he passes over, we fear
-knowingly and intentionally, the dark side of spiritism, and
-refuses to tell us the sad effects on sanity and morality which
-it is known to produce. A more fruitful cause of insanity and
-immorality and even crime does not exist, and cannot be imagined.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290">{290}</a></span>
-<p>
-We have no intention of devoting any space specially to
-<i>Planchette</i>, or the "little plank," which so many treat as
-a harmless plaything. It is only one of the forms through which
-the phenomena of spiritism are manifested, and is no more and no
-less the "despair of science," than any other form of alleged
-spirital manifestations. Contemporary science, indeed, or what
-passes for science, has shown great ineptness before the alleged
-spirit-manifestations; and its professors have, during the twenty
-years and over since the Fox girls began to attract public
-attention and curiosity, neither been able to disprove the
-alleged facts, nor to explain their origin and cause; but this is
-because contemporary science recognizes no invisible existences,
-and no intelligences above or separate from the human, and
-because it is not possible to explain their production or
-appearance by any of the unintelligent forces of nature. To deny
-their existence is, we think, impossible without discrediting all
-human testimony; to regard them as jugglery, or as the result of
-trickery practised by the mediums and those associated with them,
-seems to us equally impossible. Mr. Miles Grant in his
-well-reasoned little work on the subject, says very justly, it
-"would only show that we know but little about the facts in the
-case. We think," he says, p. 3,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "No one, after a little reflection, would venture to say of the
-  many thousands and even millions of spiritualists,
-  [spiritists,] among whom are large numbers of men and women
-  noted for their intelligence, honesty, and veracity, that they
-  are only playing tricks on each other! &hellip; Can any one tell
-  what object all these fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters,
-  children, dear friends, and loved companions can have in
-  pretending that they have communications from spirits, when
-  they know, at the same time, that they are only deceiving each
-  other by means of trickery?"
-</p>
-<p>
-In our judgment such an assumption would be a greater violation
-of the laws of human nature or the human mind and belief, than
-the most marvellous things related by the spiritists, especially
-since the order and form of the phenomena they relate are nothing
-new, but have been noted in all lands and ages, ever since the
-earliest records of the race, as is fully shown by M. Bizouard.
-</p>
-<p>
-The author of <i>Planchette</i> says the Catholic Church concedes
-the facts alleged by spiritists. This, as he states it, may
-mislead his readers. The church has not, to our knowledge,
-pronounced any official judgment deciding whether these
-particular facts are real facts or not; for we are not aware that
-the question has ever come distinctly before her for decision.
-She has had before her, from the first, the class of facts to
-which the alleged spirit-manifestations belong, and has had to
-deal with them, in some place, or in some form, every day of her
-existence; but we are not aware that she has examined and
-pronounced judgment on the particular facts the modern spiritists
-allege. She has, undoubtedly, declared the practice of spiritism,
-evocation of spirits, consulting them, or holding communication
-with them&mdash;that is, necromancy&mdash;to be unlawful, and she prohibits
-it to all her children in the most positive manner, as may be
-seen in the case of the American, or rather Scotchman, Daniel
-Home, the most famous of modern mediums, and the most dangerous.
-</p>
-<p>
-For ourselves, we have no doubt of the order of facts to which in
-our view the spirit-manifestations so called belong; we have no
-difficulties, <i>a priori</i>, in admitting them, though we do
-not accept the explanation the spiritists give of them; but when
-it comes to any particular fact or manifestation alleged, we
-judge it according to the generally received rules of evidence,
-and we require very strong evidence to convince us of its reality
-as a fact.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291">{291}</a></span>
-We adopt, in regard to them, the same rule that we follow in the
-case of alleged miracles. We have not a doubt, nor the shadow of
-a doubt, that miracles continue to be wrought in the church, and
-are daily wrought in our midst; but we accept or reject this or
-that alleged miracle according to the evidence in the case; and,
-in point of fact, we are rather sceptical in regard to most of
-the popularly received miracles we hear of. Credulity is not a
-trait of the Catholic mind. It is the same with us in relation to
-this other class of alleged facts. We believe as firmly in the
-fact that prodigies are wrought as we do that miracles are; but
-do not ask us to believe this or that particular prodigy, unless
-you are prepared with the most indubitable evidence. We are far
-from believing every event which we know not how to explain is
-either a miracle or a prodigy.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have examined with some care the so-called
-spirit-manifestations which the spiritists relate, and we have
-come, according to our best reason, to the conclusion that much
-in them is trickery, mere jugglery; that much is explicable on
-natural principles, or is to be classed with well-known morbid or
-abnormal affections of human nature; but, after all abatements,
-that there is a residuum inexplicable without the recognition of
-a superhuman intelligence and force. We say <i>superhuman</i>,
-not <i>supernatural</i>. The supernatural is God, and what he
-does immediately or without the intermediation of natural laws,
-as has been more than once explained in this magazine. The
-creation of Adam was supernatural; the generation of men from
-parents is not supernatural, for it is done by the Creator
-through the operation of natural laws or second causes. What is
-done by created forces or intelligences, however superior to man,
-is not supernatural, nor precisely preternatural, but simply
-superhuman, angelic, or demoniac. There is a smack of paganism in
-calling it, as most contemporary literature does, supernatural;
-for it carries with it the notion that the force or intelligence
-is not a creature, but an uncreated <i>numen</i>, or an immortal.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, what is this superhuman intelligence and force revealed by
-these spirit-phenomena? We know that many who admit the phenomena
-refuse to admit that they reveal any superhuman force or
-intelligence. They explain all by imagination or hallucination.
-These, no doubt, play their part, and explain much; but the
-author of <i>Planchette</i>, as well as M. Bizouard, have, it
-seems to us, fully proved that they do not and cannot explain
-all, even if they themselves did not need explanation; others
-again, to explain them, have recourse to what they call animal
-magnetism, or to a force which they call od, odyle, odyllic, or
-odic force; but these explain nothing, for we know not what
-animal magnetism or what odic force is, nor whether either has
-any real existence. These terms do but cover our ignorance. Mr.
-Grant ascribes them to demons, and endeavors to show that the
-demon mesmerizes the medium who wills with his will, and acts
-with his force and intelligence; but our modern science denies
-the existence of demons.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292">{292}</a></span>
-<p>
-The spiritists themselves pretend that the phenomena are produced
-by the presence of departed spirits. But of this there is no
-proof. It is acknowledged on all hands that the spirits can
-assume any outward form or appearance at will. What means, then,
-have we, or can we have, of identifying the individuals
-personated by the pretended spirits? The author of
-<i>Planchette</i> says, in a note, p. 62:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "If spirits have the power, attributed to them by many seers,
-  of assuming any appearance at will, it is obvious that some
-  high spiritual sense must be developed in us before we can be
-  reasonably sure of the identity of any spirit, even though it
-  come in bearing the exact resemblance of the person it may
-  claim to be. We think, therefore, that the fact that the spirit
-  &hellip; bore the aspect of Franklin, and called itself Franklin, is
-  no sufficient reason for dismissing all doubts as to its
-  identity. It may be that we must be in the spiritual before we
-  can really be wisely confident of the identity of any spirit."
-</p>
-<p>
-That is, we must be ghosts ourselves before we can identify a
-ghost, or die in the flesh, and enter the spirit-land, before we
-can be sure of the identity of the spirits, or of the truth of
-anything they profess to communicate not otherwise verifiable!
-</p>
-<p>
-It is pretended that the spirits have latterly rendered
-themselves visible and tangible. Mr. Livermore, of this city,
-sees and embraces his deceased wife, who caresses and kisses him,
-and he feels her hands as warm and fleshlike as when she was
-living. Suppose the phenomena to be as related, and not eked out
-by Mr. Livermore's imagination; the visible body in which she
-appeared to him could have been only assumed, and no real body at
-all, certainly not her body during life&mdash;that lies mouldering in
-the grave. And all the spirits teach that the body thrown off at
-death does not rise again. They nowhere, that we can find, teach
-the resurrection of the flesh, but uniformly deny it. If the
-spirits, then, do really render themselves visible and tangible
-to our senses, it must be in a simulated body; and why may they
-not simulate one form as well as another? The senses of sight and
-touch furnish, then, of themselves, no proof that a departed
-spirit or a human spirit once alive in the flesh, is present,
-communicating through the medium with the living.
-</p>
-<p>
-The assertion of the pretended spirit of its identity counts for
-nothing, whether made by knocks or table-tipping, by writing or
-by audible voice and distinct articulation; for the spiritists
-themselves concede that some of the spirits, at least, are great
-liars, and that they have no criterion by which to distinguish
-the lying spirits from the others, if others there are, that seek
-to communicate with the living. Conceding all the phenomena
-alleged, there is, then, absolutely no proof or evidence that
-there are any departed spirits present, or that any communication
-from them has ever been received. The spirit of a person may be
-simulated as well as his voice, features, form, handwriting, or
-anything else characteristic of him. Spiritism, then, contrary to
-the pretension of the spiritists, proves neither that the dead
-live again, nor that the spirit survives the body. It does not
-even prove that there is in man a soul or spirit distinct from
-the body. We call the special attention of our readers to this
-point, which is worthy of more consideration than it has
-received.
-</p>
-<p>
-The spiritists claim that the alleged spirit-manifestations have
-proved the spirituality and immortality of the soul, in
-opposition to materialism. This is their boast, and hence it is
-that they call their doctrine spiritualism, and seek to establish
-for it the authority of a revelation, supplementary to the
-Christian revelation. Their whole fabric rests on the assumption
-that the manifestations are made by human spirits that have once
-lived in the flesh, and live now in the spirit-world, whatever
-that may be.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293">{293}</a></span>
-Set aside this assumption, or  show that nothing in the alleged
-spirit-manifestations sustains it, and the whole edifice tumbles
-to the ground. There is nothing to support this assumption but
-the testimony of spirits that often prove themselves lying
-spirits, and whose identity with the individual they personate,
-or pretend to be, we have no means of proving. Unable to prove
-this vital point, the spiritists can prove nothing to the
-purpose. The spirits all say there is no resurrection of the
-dead, and therefore deny point-blank the doctrine that the dead
-live again. If we are unable, as we are, to identify them with
-spirits that once lived united with bodies that have mouldered or
-are mouldering in their graves, what proof have we, or can they
-give, that they are, or ever were, human spirits at all? If they
-are not proved to be or to have been human spirits, they afford
-no proof that the soul is distinct from the body, or that it is
-not material like the body, and perishes with it. If, then, the
-men of science have shown themselves little able to explain the
-origin and cause of the phenomena, the spiritists have shown
-themselves to be very defective as inductive reasoners.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But the phenomena warrant the induction that they are produced
-by spirits of some sort, or that there are intelligences not
-clothed with human bodies between whom and us there is more or
-less communication." Of themselves alone they warrant no
-induction at all, but are simply inexplicable phenomena, the
-origin and cause of which lie beyond the reach of scientific
-investigation; but, taken in the light of what we know
-<i>aliunde</i>, they warrant the conclusion that they proceed
-from a superhuman cause, and that there are spirits which are, in
-some respects, stronger and more intelligent than men; but
-whether the particular spirits to whom the spirit-manifestations
-in question are to be ascribed are angelic or demoniac, must be
-determined by the special character of the manifestations
-themselves, the circumstances in which they are made, and the end
-they are manifestly designed to effect.
-</p>
-<p>
-We make here no attack on the inductive method followed in
-constructing the physical sciences. We only maintain that the
-validity of the induction depends on a principle which is not
-itself obtained or obtainable from induction. Hence Herbert
-Spencer and the positivists who follow very closely the inductive
-method, relegate principles and causes to the "unknowable." The
-principle on which the inductive process depends cannot be
-attained to by studying the phenomena themselves, but must be
-given immediately, either in <i>a priori</i> intuition or in
-revelation. Books have been written, like Paley's <i>Natural
-Theology</i> and the <i>Bridgewater Treatises</i>, to prove, by
-way of induction, from the phenomena of the universe, the being
-and attributes of God, and it is very generally said that every
-object in nature proves that God is, and that no man ever is or
-can be really an atheist; but no study of the phenomena of nature
-could originate the idea or the word in a mind that had it not.
-Men must have the idea expressed in language of some sort before
-they can find proofs in the observable phenomena of nature that
-God is. Hence, those <i>savants</i> who confound the origination
-of the idea or belief with the proofs of its truth, and who see
-that the idea or belief is not obtainable by induction, are
-really atheists, and say with the fool in his heart, God is&mdash;not.
-We do not assert that God is, on the authority of revelation; for
-we must know that he is before we have or can have any means of
-proving the fact of revelation; yet if God had not himself taught
-his own being to the first man, and given him a sign signifying
-it, the human race could never have known or conceived that he
-exists.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294">{294}</a></span>
-The phenomena or the facts and events of the universe which so
-clearly prove that God is, and find in his creative act their
-origin and cause, would have been to all men, as they are to the
-atheist, simply inexplicable phenomena.
-</p>
-<p>
-So it is with the spirit-manifestations, whether angelic or
-demoniac. The existence of spirits must be known to us, either by
-intuition or revelation, before we can assign these phenomena a
-spirital origin and cause. We do not and cannot know it
-intuitively; and therefore, without recurring to what revelation
-teaches us, these manifestations, however striking, wonderful, or
-perplexing they might be, would be to us and to all men
-inexplicable, and we could not assign them any origin or cause.
-Revelation&mdash;become traditionary, and so embodied in the common
-intelligence through language as to control, unconsciously and
-unsuspected, the reasonings even of individuals who pride
-themselves on denying it&mdash;furnishes the principle needed as the
-basis of the induction of the principle and cause of the
-spirit-manifestations. Revelation teaches that God has created an
-order of intelligences superior to man, called angels, to be the
-messengers of his will. Some of these remained faithful to their
-Creator, always obedient to his command; others kept not their
-first estate, rebelled against their sovereign Lord, were, with
-their chief, cast out of heaven into the lower regions, and
-became demons or evil spirits.
-</p>
-<p>
-The spiritists complain of our scientific professors, but without
-just reason; for, on the principles of modern science, the proofs
-they offer of their doctrines prove nothing but their own logical
-ineptness. Science, if it will accept no revelation, and
-recognize no principle not obtained by the inductive method, has
-no alternative but either to deny the manifestations as facts, or
-to admit them only as inexplicable phenomena. The class of facts
-are as well authenticated, as facts, as any facts can be; but the
-explanation of them by the spiritists is utterly inadmissible,
-and sound inductive reasoners, who exclude all revealed
-principles, must reject it. The professors are not wrong in
-rejecting that explanation as unscientific; for it would be even
-more unscientific to admit it; and perhaps, if compelled to do
-one or the other, we should hold it more unreasonable to admit it
-than to deny outright the facts themselves.
-</p>
-<p>
-The fault of the professors is in denying the necessity to the
-validity of induction of principles neither obtainable nor
-provable by induction, and in supposing that we can construct an
-adequate science of the universe without the principles which are
-given us only by divine revelation. Without these principles we
-can explain nothing, and the universe is a vast assemblage of
-inexplicable phenomena; for it is only in those principles we do
-or can obtain a key to its meaning. Hence, modern science, which
-excludes both revelation and intuition <i>a priori</i>, explains
-nothing, reduces nothing to its principle and cause, and only
-generalizes and classifies observable phenomena, which, we
-submit, is no science at all. Certainly, we do not pretend that
-science is built on faith, as the traditionalists do, or are
-accused of doing; but we do say that, without the light of
-revelation, we cannot construct an adequate science of the
-universe, or explain the various facts and events of history.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295">{295}</a></span>
-If I did not know from revelation that the devil and his angels
-exist, I might observe the facts of satanophany, but I should not
-know whence they came, or what they mean. I might be tempted,
-vexed, harassed, besieged, possessed, by evil spirits as the
-spiritists are; but I should be ignorant of the cause, and
-utterly unable to explain my trouble, or to ascribe it to any
-cause, far less to satanic invasion. The prodigies would be for
-me simply inexplicable prodigies. But, taught by revelation that
-the air swarms with evil spirits, the enemies of man, and enemies
-of man because enemies of God, we can see at once the explanation
-of the spirit-manifestations, and assign them their real
-principle and cause.
-</p>
-<p>
-We know that many who call themselves Christians are disposed to
-doubt, if not to deny, the personal existence of satan, and to
-maintain that the word, which means an enemy or adversary, is
-simply a general term for the sum of the evil influences to which
-we are exposed, if not subjected. As if a generalization were
-possible where there is nothing concrete! We get rid of no
-difficulty by this explanation. Influence supposes some person or
-principle from whom or from which proceeds the influence or the
-in-flowing. If you deny satan's personal existence, you have no
-option but either to deny evil altogether or to admit an original
-eternal principle of evil warring against the principle of good,
-that is, Manichaeism, or Persian dualism, which, though
-Calvinism, indeed, in teaching that evil or sin is something
-positive, may imply it, is neither good philosophy nor sound
-Christian theology. According to sound philosophy and theology,
-God alone hath eternity, and by his word has created heaven and
-earth, and all things therein, visible and invisible. All the
-works of God are good, very good; and as there is nothing in
-existence except himself that he hath not made, it follows
-necessarily that evil is not a positive existence, but is simply
-negative, the negation or absence of good. It originates and can
-originate only in the abuse of his faculties by a creature whom
-God hath created and endowed with intelligence and free-will, and
-therefore capable of acting wrong as well as right. To assert
-that man is subjected or exposed to evil influences leads
-necessarily to the assertion of a personal devil who exerts it.
-You must, then, either deny all evil influences from a source
-foreign to or distinguishable from man's own intrinsic nature, or
-else admit the personal existence of satan and his hosts.
-</p>
-<p>
-Satan and his hosts having rebelled against God, and in refusing
-to worship the incarnate Son as God, were cast out of heaven, and
-became the bitter enemies of him and the human race. Satan, as
-the chief of the fallen angels, evil demons, or devils, carries
-on incessant war against God, and seeks to draw men away from
-their allegiance to him, and to get himself worshipped by them in
-his place. Hence, he seeks by lying wonders to deceive them; by
-his prodigies to rival in their belief real miracles; and, by his
-pretended revelations of the spirit-world, to substitute belief
-in his pretended communications for faith in divine revelation,
-and thus reestablish in lands redeemed by Christianity from his
-dominion the devil-worship which has never ceased to obtain in
-all heathen countries. The holy Scriptures assure us that all the
-gods of the heathen are demons or devils. These took possession
-of the idols made of wood or stone, gold or silver, [Footnote 65]
-had their temples, their priests and priestesses, their service,
-and were worshipped as gods.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 65: This explains <i>Planchette</i>, which is a
-    step toward the revival of heathen idol-worship.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_296">{296}</a></span>
-<p>
-They gave forth oracles, and were consulted, through their
-mediums, in all great affairs of state, and their omens and
-auguries, which the people consulted to learn the future, as the
-spiritists do their mediums. Spiritism belongs to the same order.
-The spirits, as Mr. Grant well proves, are demons, and the whole
-thing has for its object to reestablish, perhaps in a modified
-form, the devil-worship which formerly obtained among all nations
-but the Jews or chosen people of God, and still obtains among all
-nations not yet Christianized. It began in the grand apostasy of
-the Gentiles from the patriarchal religion, which followed the
-confusion of tongues at Babel; and the spiritists are doing their
-best to revive it in the grand apostasy from the Christian
-church, which took place in the sixteenth century, and of which
-we have such clear and unmistakable predictions in the New
-Testament. So adroitly has satan managed, that, if it were
-possible, the very elect would be deceived. So much we say of the
-origin and cause of the spirit-manifestations.
-</p>
-<p>
-If we examine more closely these manifestations, we shall find
-evidence enough of their satanic character. All satanic invasions
-bring trouble or perturbation, while the angelic visitations
-always bring calm, peace, and order. The divine oracles are
-clear, precise, distinct, free from all ambiguity; for he who
-gives them knows all his works from their beginning to their end.
-Satan's oracles are always ambiguous, stammering, and usually
-deceive or mislead those who trust them. Satan is a creature, and
-his power and intelligence, though superhuman, are not unlimited.
-The universe has secrets he cannot penetrate, and he can do no
-more than his and our Creator permits. He has no prophetic power,
-for God keeps his own counsels. He can only guess or infer the
-future from his knowledge of the present. He has no creative
-power, and can never produce any thing as first cause. Hence, he
-can operate only with materials fitted to his hand. The
-spiritists tell us that it is not every one that can be a medium.
-It is only persons of a certain temperament, found much oftener
-among women than among men, and, among men, only with those of a
-feminine character, and wanting alike in manly vigor and robust
-health. The spirits can communicate only through such as nature
-or habit has fitted to be mediums, and the communications have
-always something of the character of the medium through which
-they are made. The limited power of satan, his inability to know
-the future, which exists only in the divine decree, and his lack
-of power to form his own medium, render the spirit-communications
-extremely vague, uncertain, obscure, and feeble.
-</p>
-<p>
-The dependence of satan on the medium is manifest. The spirits
-will not communicate if anything disturbs the medium, or puts the
-pythoness out of humor, like the presence of hard-headed
-sceptics, or a too critical examination by keen-sighted
-scientific professors determined not to be deceived. Their
-communications, oral or written, from the pretended spirits of
-distinguished authors, poets, philosophers, statesmen, are by no
-means creditable to satan as a scholar or a gentleman. Then
-again, the spirits really tell us nothing that amounts to
-anything of the spirit-world. Their representations make it a dim
-and shadowy region, in which the spirits of the departed wander
-about hither and thither, without end or aim, apparently worse
-off than in the Elysian fields of the ancients, which resemble
-more the Christian hell than the Christian's heaven.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_297">{297}</a></span>
-There is an air of unreality about them; they are the umbrae of
-heathen philosophy, not living existences; and their region, or,
-more properly, their state, would be distressing, if one believed
-at all in the representations given by them. One thing is
-evident&mdash;the spirits know or can say nothing of the beatific
-vision, which proves that they are not blessed angels. They do
-not see God, and are clearly banished from his presence. He forms
-not the light nor the blessedness of their state. They seem, like
-troubled ghosts, to linger around the places where they lived in
-the body, pale, thin, shadowy, miserable, anxious to communicate
-with the living but only occasionally permitted to do so, and
-even then only to a feeble extent. Friends and acquaintances in
-this life may recognize, we are told, each other in the
-spirit-world, but whether with pleasure or pain, it is difficult
-to say. The picture of their disembodied life is very sad, and
-the Christian soul finds it dark, hopeless, cheerless, and
-depressing; as the condition of those doomed to take up their
-abode with the devil and his angels must necessarily be.
-</p>
-<p>
-The doctrines the spirits teach and confirm with lying wonders
-are what the apostle calls "the doctrines of devils." They are
-unanimous in declaring that there is no devil and no hell. God
-may not be absolutely denied, but his personality is obscured,
-and he appears only in the distance, as an infinite abstraction,
-being only in the sense in which, Hegel might say, being and
-not-being are identical&mdash;remote from all contemplation,
-indifferent to what is going on in the world below him, asking
-neither prayers nor worship, love nor veneration, praise nor
-thanksgiving, and receiving none. The spirits echo the dominant
-sentiments of the age, and especially of the circle with which
-they communicate. They are, where they are not held in check by
-the lingering respect of the circle for Christianity, furious
-radicals, great sticklers for progress without divine aid, and of
-development without a created germ. Yet the doctrines they teach
-are such as they find in germ, if not developed, in the minds of
-their mediums. They sometimes deny every distinctively Christian
-doctrine, and are sure to pervert what of the faith they do not
-expressly deny. In general, they assert that the form of religion
-called Christianity has had its day, and that there is a new and
-sublimer form about to be developed, and that they come to
-announce it, and to prepare the way for it. The new form of
-religion will free the world from the old church, from bondage to
-the Bible, to creeds and dogmas, the old patriarchal systems and
-governments, and place the religious, social, and political world
-on a higher plane, and moved by a more energetic spirit of
-progress. This is the mission of spiritism. It is destined to
-carry on and complete the work commenced by Christ, but which he
-left unfinished, and inchoate.
-</p>
-<p>
-The special object of the spirits, it is pretended, is to
-convince the world of the immortality of the soul; but in what
-form, what condition, what sense? The immortality of the soul, or
-its survival of the body, was generally believed by the heathens,
-however addicted to demon-worship they might be; but the life and
-immortality brought to light by the Gospel they did not believe,
-and the spirits do not teach it or affirm it. The spirits seem to
-know nothing of immortal life in God, and into which the
-sanctified soul enters when it departs this life, and is purified
-from all the stains it may have contracted in the flesh.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_298">{298}</a></span>
-<p>
-The only immortality they offer is the immortality of evil demons
-or the angels who kept not their first estate. But even of such
-an immortality for the human soul, they offer no proof. They are
-lying spirits, and their word is worthless, and their identity
-with human souls once united to human bodies which they
-personate, is not and cannot be established. They deny the
-resurrection of the dead, which St. Paul preached at Athens, and
-they give, as we have seen, no proofs that the soul does not die
-and perish with the body. Their doctrines are simply calculated
-to deceive the unwary, to draw them away from their allegiance to
-the Lord of heaven, and to drag them down to the region where
-dwell the angels that fell.
-</p>
-<p>
-The ethical doctrines of the spirits are as bad as can be
-imagined, and the morals of the advanced spiritists would appear
-to be of the lowest and most revolting sort. It matters not that
-the spirits give, now and then, some good advice, and say some
-true things; for the object of satan is to deceive, and his
-practice is usually to lie and deceive by telling the truth. The
-truth he tells gains him credit, and secures confidence in him as
-a guide. But he takes good care that the truth he tells shall
-have all the effect of falsehood. He gives good moral advice, but
-he removes all motives for following it, and takes away all moral
-restraints. He wars against authority in matters of faith and
-morals, as repugnant to the rights of reason, and in political
-and domestic life as repugnant to liberty and the rights of women
-and children. All should do right and seek what is good, but no
-one should be constrained; only voluntary obedience is
-meritorious; forced obedience is no virtue. The sentiments and
-affections should be as free as the air we breathe, and to
-attempt to restrain them is to war against nature herself. They
-are not voluntary either in their origin or nature, and therefore
-are not and should not be subjected to an outward law. Love, the
-apostle tells us, is the fulfilling of the law, the bond of
-perfection. How wrong, then, to undertake to put gyves on love,
-to constrain it, or to subject it to the petty conventionalities
-of a moribund society, or the rules of an antiquated morality!
-Taking no note of the distinction between the supernatural love,
-which Christians call charity, and love as a natural sentiment,
-and as little of the distinction between the different sorts of
-love even as a natural sentiment, as the love of parents for
-children and children for parents, the love of friends, the love
-of country, the love of truth and justice, and the love of the
-sexes for each other, or simply sexual love, satan lays the
-foundation, as we can easily see, if not blinded by his
-delusions, for the grossest corruption and the most beastly
-immorality.
-</p>
-<p>
-Hence the spiritists very generally look upon the marriage law as
-tyrannical and absurd, and assert the doctrine of free love. The
-marriage is in the love, and when the love is no more, the
-marriage is dissolved. None of our sentiments depend on the will;
-hence, self-denial is unnatural, and immoral. Prostitution is
-wrong, for no love redeems and hallows it; and for the same
-reason it is immoral for a man and a woman to live together as
-husband and wife, after they have ceased to love each other. It
-is easy to see to what this leads, and we cannot be surprised to
-find conjugal fidelity not reckoned as a virtue by spiritists; to
-find wives leaving their husbands, and husbands their wives, or
-the wife choosing a new husband as often as she pleases or wills;
-and the husband taking a new wife when tired of the old, or an
-additional wife or two, Mormon-like, when one at a time is not
-enough.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_299">{299}</a></span>
-Indeed, Mormonism is only one form and the most strictly
-organized form, of contemporary spiritism, and woman's-rightism
-is only another product of the same shop, though doubtless many
-of the women carried away by it are pure-minded and chaste. But
-the leaders are spiritists or intimately connected with them. The
-<i>animus</i> of the woman movement is hostility to the marriage
-law, and the cares and drudgery of maternity and home life. It
-threatens to be not the least of the corrupting and dangerous
-forms of spiritism.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Grant, who is a staunch Protestant, and hates Catholicity
-with a most hearty hatred, gives, on adequate authority, a sketch
-of the immorality of spiritists which should startle the
-community: we make an extract:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "We pass to notice some further facts relative to the
-  <i>moral</i> tendency of spiritualism. We have read its
-  <i>claims</i>, and found them very high; but there is abundant
-  proof to show that, instead of its being 'ancient Christianity
-  revived,' it is the worst enemy Christianity ever had to meet.
-  We believe it to be satan's last grand effort to substitute a
-  false for the true Christianity. His snares are laid most
-  ingeniously; and, unless very watchful, ere people are aware of
-  it, they will be caught in some of his traps. Thousands and
-  millions are already his deluded victims, and, like a terrible
-  tornado, he is sweeping with destruction on every side.
-  Occasionally we hear a warning voice from one who has escaped
-  from his power, like a mariner from the sinking wreck; but
-  most, after they once get into the spiritualist 'circle,' are
-  like the boatman under the control of the terrible whirlpool on
-  the coast of Norway&mdash;destruction is sure.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The next witness we introduce is Mr. J. F. Whitney, editor of
-  the New York <i>Pathfinder.</i> He was formerly a warm advocate
-  of spiritualism, and published much in its favor. He says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite2">
-     "'Now, after a long and constant watchfulness, seeing for
-     months and years its progress and its practical workings
-     upon its devotees, its believers, and its mediums, we are
-     compelled to speak our honest conviction, which is, that the
-     manifestations coming through the acknowledged mediums, who
-     are designated as rapping, tipping, writing, and entranced
-     mediums, have a baneful influence upon believers, and create
-     discord and confusion; that the generality of these
-     teachings inculcate false ideas, approve of selfish,
-     individual acts, and endorse theories and principles which,
-     when carried out, <i>debase</i> and make them <i>little
-     better than the brute</i>.'
-<br><br>
-     "Again he says: 'Seeing as we have the gradual progress it
-     makes with its believers, particularly its mediums, from
-     lives of <i>morality</i> to those of <i>sensuality</i> and
-     <i>immorality</i>, gradually and cautiously undermining the
-     foundation of good principles, we look back with amazement
-     to the radical change which a few months will bring about in
-     individuals.'
-<br><br>
-     "He says in conclusion: 'We desire to send forth our warning
-     voice; and if our humble position as the head of a public
-     journal, our known advocacy of spiritualism, our experience,
-     and the conspicuous part we have played among its believers;
-     the honesty and the fearlessness with which we have defended
-     the subject, will weigh anything in our favor, we desire
-     that our opinions may be received, and those who are moving
-     passively down the rushing rapids to destruction, should
-     pause, ere it be too late, and save themselves from the
-     blasting influence which those manifestations are causing.'
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-     "Forbidding To Marry.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Among other instructions of the spirits, the apostle Paul has
-  assured us that they will be opposed to the marriage
-  laws,'forbidding to marry.' I Tim. iv. 3.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "At the Rutland (Vt.) Reform Spiritualist Convention, held in
-  June, 1858, the following resolution was presented and
-  defended:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "'<i>Resolved</i>, That the only true and natural marriage is
-  an exclusive conjugal love between one man and one woman; and
-  the only true home is the isolated home, based upon this
-  exclusive love.'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The careless reader may see nothing objectionable in the
-  resolution; but please read it again and observe what
-  constitutes <i>marriage</i>, according to the resolution,'an
-  exclusive conjugal LOVE between one man and one woman.'
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_300">{300}</a></span>
-   The poison sentiment is covered up by the word '<i>one</i>.'
-   What constitutes marriage now, according to the laws of the
-   land? Do we understand that, when we see a notice of a
-   marriage in a paper, which took place at a certain time and
-   place, that then the parties began to love each other
-   exclusively? Certainly not; but at that time their love was
-   sanctioned by the proper authorities, and thus they became
-   husband and wife. But the resolution states that the
-   <i>marriage</i> should consist in the 'exclusive conjugal
-   <i>love</i>.' Then it follows, when either party loves another
-   exclusively, the first marriage is dissolved, and they are
-   married again; and if the other one does not happen to find a
-   spiritual 'affinity,' then there is no alternative left but to
-   make the best of it, as many have been compelled to do.
-   According to this resolution, one is married as often as his
-   love becomes '<i>exclusive</i>' for any particular individual.
-   This is one item in the boasted 'new social order,' which the
-   spirits propose to establish when the political power is in
-   their hands. It is called by them the 'Divine Law of
-   Marriage.' A large number of spiritualists are already
-   carrying out this resolution practically, regardless of the
-   laws of the land.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "A similar resolution was presented at the National Spiritual
-  Convention held in Chicago, from Aug. 9th to 14th, 1864 It was
-  offered by Dr. A. G. Parker, of Boston, chairman of the
-  committee on social relations. This point is strongly urged by
-  the spirits and spiritualists.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "At the Rutland Reform Convention, which closed June 27th,
-  1858, the resolution under consideration was earnestly
-  advocated by able men and women. Said Mrs. Julia Branch, of New
-  York, as reported in <i>The Banner of Light</i>, July 10th,
-  1858, when speaking on the resolution: 'I am aware that I have
-  chosen almost a forbidden subject; forbidden from the fact that
-  any one who <i>can</i> or <i>dare</i> look the marriage
-  question in the face, candidly and openly denouncing the
-  institution as the sole cause of woman's degradation and
-  misery, are objects of suspicion, of scorn, and opprobrious
-  epithets.'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "She further remarked in the defence of the resolution, and the
-  rights of women, 'She must demand her freedom; her right to
-  receive the equal wages of man in payment for her labor; <i>her
-  right to have children when she will, and by whom</i>.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-Much more to the same effect, and even more startling, we might
-quote; we might give the account of the spiritist community at
-Berlin, Ohio; but we have no wish to disgust our readers, and
-this is enough for our purpose; it is sufficient to prove to all,
-not under the delusion, that spiritism is of satanic origin, and
-to be eschewed by all who wish to remain morally sane, and to
-lead honest and upright lives. We are not disposed to be
-alarmists, and, like the majority of our countrymen, are more
-likely to err on the side of optimism than of pessimism; but we
-cannot contemplate the rapid spread of spiritism since 1847, when
-it began with the Fox girls, without feeling that a really great
-danger threatens the modern world, and that there is ample reason
-for all who do not wish to see demon-worship supplanting the
-worship of God throughout the land, to be on their guard. Mr.
-Grant, who seems to be well informed on the subject, tells us
-that since that period, spiritism "has become world-wide in its
-influence, numbering among its ardent supporters many of the
-first men and women of both continents. Ministers, doctors,
-lawyers, judges, congressmen, governors, presidents, queens,
-kings, and emperors, of all religions, are bowing to its
-influence, and showing their sympathy with its teachings."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Grant should not say, "of all religions;" some Catholics may
-have become spiritists, but they cannot become so, and persist in
-following spiritism without severing themselves from the church.
-Some spiritists have been told by the spirits to become
-Catholics; but the church has required them to give up spiritism,
-and they have either done so, or left her communion, like Daniel
-Home, and returned to their communion with the demons. The church
-forbids her children to have any dealings with devils. But with
-this rectification the statement is not exaggerated.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_301">{301}</a></span>
-The spread of spiritism has been prodigious, and proves not only
-the power and cunning of satan, but that the way for his success
-had been well prepared, and that no small portion of the modern
-world were in the moral condition of the old world at the epoch
-of the great Gentile apostasy, and ready to return to the heathen
-darkness and superstition, the vice and corruption, from which
-the Gospel had rescued them, or, at least, had rescued their
-ancestors.
-</p>
-<p>
-We know not the number of spiritists in our country. We have seen
-it stated that they reckon their numbers by millions; but there
-can be no doubt that they include a very large portion of our
-whole population. Has this fact anything to do with the
-astounding increase of vice and crime in our country within the
-last few years, the undeniable corruption of morals and manners,
-and the growing frequency of murder and suicide? Senator Sprague,
-an honorable and an honest man and a true patriot, stated, the
-other day, in his place in the Senate of the United States, that
-our country is morally and politically more corrupt than any
-other country in the civilized world. We hope he is mistaken, but
-we are afraid that he is not wholly wrong. It is idle to
-attribute this corruption to the influences of the late civil
-war, and still idler or worse than idle, to attribute it, as some
-do, to the heavy influx of foreigners; for, though among those
-are many old-world criminals, the great body of the foreigners,
-when they land here, are far more moral, honest, upright,
-conscientious, than the average of native Americans; and though
-they soon prove that "evil communications corrupt good manners,"
-much of the patriot's hope for the future depends on them,
-especially the Catholic portion of them, if, in due season, their
-children can be brought under the influence of the church, and
-receive a proper Catholic training.
-</p>
-<p>
-Unhappily, the simple, natural virtues of former times, such as
-existed in ancient Greece and Rome, and exist even now in some
-pagan and Mohammedan countries, have, to a fearful extent, been
-lost with us, and the sects have nothing with which to supply
-their place, or to oppose to this terrible satanic invasion. They
-have indeed done much to prepare the way for it, and are doing
-still more, by their opposition to the church, to render it
-successful. But, though the danger is great and pressing, we are
-not disposed to think, with Mr. Grant, that we are in what he
-calls the "world's crisis." The danger is far less than it was;
-because the satanic origin and character of the so-called
-spirit-manifestations are widely suspected, and are beginning to
-be exposed. Satan is powerless in the open day. He is never
-dangerous when seen and known to be satan. He must always
-disguise himself as an angel of light, and appear as the defender
-of some cause which, in its time and place, is good, but,
-mistimed and misplaced, is evil. He has done wonders in our day
-as a philanthropist, and met with marvellous success as a
-humanitarian, and will, perhaps, meet with more still as the
-champion of free love and women's rights. But he has no power
-over the elect, and, though he may besiege the virtuous and the
-holy, he can captivate only the children of disobedience, who are
-already the victims of their own pride, vanity, lust, or
-unbelief.
-</p>
-<p>
-The end of the world may be at hand, and these lying signs and
-wonders may be the precursors of antichrist; but we do not think
-the end is just yet. Faith has not yet wholly died out, and the
-church has seen, perhaps, darker days than the present.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_302">{302}</a></span>
-The power of Christ, or his patience, is not yet exhausted; the
-gospel of the kingdom has not yet been preached to all nations;
-three fourths of the human race remain as yet unconverted, and we
-cannot believe that the church has as yet fulfilled her mission,
-and Christianity done its work. Too many of the sentinels have
-slept at their posts, and there has been a fearful lack of
-vigilance and alertness of which the enemy has taken advantage.
-The sleepers in Zion are many; but these satanic knocks and raps,
-and these tippings of tables, and this horrid din and racket of
-the spirits to indicate their presence, can hardly fail to awaken
-them, unless they are really sleeping the sleep of death. The
-church is still standing, and if her children will watch and
-pray, she can battle with the enemy as successfully as she has
-done so many times before.
-</p>
-<p>
-Many Catholics have had their doubts of the reality of the
-alleged spirit-manifestations, and, even conceding them as facts,
-have been slow to recognize their satanic origin and character.
-But those doubts are now generally removed. The fearful moral and
-spiritual ravages of spiritism have dispelled or are fast
-dispelling them, and it will go hard but here and now as always
-and everywhere, what satan regards as a splendid triumph shall
-turn out against him and bring him to shame. Thus far in his war
-against the Son of God all his victories have been his defeats.
-</p>
-<p>
-One thing is certain, that the only power there is to resist this
-satanic invasion is the Catholic Church; and there is, unless we
-greatly deceive ourselves, a growing interest in the Catholic
-question far beyond any that has heretofore been felt. Thinking
-and well-disposed men see and feel the impotence of the sects;
-that they have no divine life, and no divine support; that they
-stand in human folly, rather than even in human wisdom. Eminent
-Protestant ministers eloquently proclaim and conclusively show
-that Protestantism was a blunder, and has proved a failure; and
-there springs up a growing feeling among the more intelligent and
-well-disposed of our non-Catholic countrymen, that the judgment
-rendered against the church by the Reformers in the sixteenth
-century was hasty, and needs revision, perhaps a reversal. This
-feeling, if it continues to grow, can augur but ill for the
-ultimate success of satan and his followers.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_303">{303}</a></span>
-<br>
-                <h2>Daybreak.</h2>
-
-
-	           <h3>Chapter VI.
-<br><br>
-             Presentiments.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger's family took the full benefit of their holiday at
-the seaside. They rose before the lark, and watched the days come
-in: radiant, solemn mornings, all light and silence; tender,
-mist-veiled dawns, less like day than a dream of day; and angry,
-magnificent sunrises, blazing with stormy colors all over the
-sky, soon to be quenched in a fine gray fall of rain.
-</p>
-<p>
-They lay in hammocks slung out under the pine-trees, till nature
-adopted them for her own, and little wild creatures came and went
-about them unscared.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Margaret," Mrs. Lewis called, one day, out of her hammock over
-to the other, "you remember how the foxes went to St.
-Francis&mdash;wasn't it St. Francis?&mdash;and held out their paws to shake
-hands with him, and said, 'How do you do, St. Francis?' and he
-gave them his hand, and said, 'How do you do?"'
-</p>
-<p>
-"I remember nothing of the kind," was the indignant reply. "But I
-know that Robinson Cru&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"O fie!" cries the little lady. "Why won't you own that my legend
-is beautiful and sublime, whether true or not? And it will be
-true when the kingdom comes for which all good people pray. For
-the last hour I have been trying to get acquainted with a
-squirrel; but just as I thought that he understood me, and as I
-was about to offer my hand to him, the little wretch darted away.
-At this moment he is perched in the very top of a pine-tree, and
-peering down at me as if I were a hyena. Alas!"
-</p>
-<p>
-They wandered on the beach at evening, singing, talking, silent;
-or if in merry mood, skooning little flat stones over the water,
-and counting how many wave-tips they would trip before falling.
-</p>
-<p>
-"<i>Mon armant m'aime&mdash;un peu&mdash;beaucoup&mdash;passionnément&mdash;pas du
-tout!</i>" laughed Mrs. Lewis, seeing Miss Hamilton counting to
-herself. "You must only try that oracle in flower petals, my
-dear. To count it in salt water signifies tears."
-</p>
-<p>
-Sometimes they floated out in the harbor, and felt the fresh
-breath of the ocean, while the treacherous waters lapped, and
-fawned, and gurgled about the bows of their boat, and overhead
-the sky was thick with stars.
-</p>
-<p>
-All this was not with the ladies mere idle pleasure, but was as
-seriously planned as it was heartily enjoyed. They had resolved
-that whatever exciting discussions and differences the gentlemen
-should have abroad, at home they should find nothing but peace.
-Politics were banished; and they sometimes even restrained their
-impatience to hear the war-news when they suspected that the
-relation was likely to produce any unpleasant entanglement.
-Without being religious, they yet had some perception of a
-pathway lying changeless and peaceful, far above parties and
-nationalities, and they felt that woman's proper place is there.
-</p>
-<p>
-The gentlemen soon learned to submit to a restraint which they
-would never have imposed on themselves. When they stepped out at
-the little station near their cottage, their discussions were at
-an end.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_304">{304}</a></span>
-<p>
-"There is our flag of truce," Mr. Lewis would say, pointing to
-the thread of smoke that showed, over the trees, Mrs. James's
-kitchen-fire just kindled to prepare their dinner. "Understand,
-Mr. Southard, I oppose both you and Louis tooth and nail, and I'd
-like to fight it out with you now. But our time is up; and there
-are three little girls behind the trees there who would break
-their hearts if we should go home with cross faces. Let's shake
-hands till next time."
-</p>
-<p>
-The only news of which they could all speak fearlessly and with
-pleasure was what concerned Mr. Granger's cousin. Scarcely a week
-passed that did not bring some laudation of him. He was one of
-those men who, without effort, are always conspicuous wherever
-they go. Opportunities that others sought with pain presented
-themselves unsought to him; and he had a gallant, dashing, and,
-withal, a lordly way that embellished even brilliant exploits.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Upon my word," his cousin said, "at this rate it is not
-impossible that he may be made lieutenant-general."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard was, perhaps, the hardest to keep within bounds,
-probably because he felt himself religiously obliged to "cry
-aloud and spare not." But even he was subdued after a while. He
-seemed indeed too dependent on the ladies to willingly offend
-them. All the time he was not in the city he spent in their
-company, unbending as much as was possible to him, that his
-presence might not be a restraint on their pleasures. He brought
-his books to the parlor, and had his special corner there, the
-"lion's den," he called it, with a slight touch of reproach in
-his voice, when he saw how the others kept away from its
-vicinity. He rendered himself agreeable in many ways. He read
-aloud to them, he played and sang for them, sometimes he took the
-brush from Miss Hamilton's hand, and helped her with a bolder
-line than she could achieve.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It takes a strong hand to give a fine stroke," she said. "Where
-I would be delicate, I am only soft." "Let me finish this for
-you, since the stippling is done," he said, as she paused to
-contemplate a major-general reposing pacifically on her easel. "I
-will not touch the face. Say what you will, there is a softness
-and richness in your shading which I can never attain. I may have
-a fine or bold touch, but it is hard. Shall I deepen this
-background a little to throw the figure out? And may I intensify
-his shoulder-straps?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret left her work to him, and, taking possession of his den,
-divided her attention between a book, and watching Dora at play
-with Aurelia outside.
-</p>
-<p>
-Since they left the city the child had been set loose from all
-city restraints, and turned out to consort with bees and
-grasshoppers, harrowing the soul of Mrs. James by the number and
-heinousness of her soiled frocks and stockings, but drawing in
-full draughts of health. Both Dora and her father were bankers.
-But his bank in the city dealt in paper and specie; hers was a
-flower-bank. When she wanted him to buy her anything, she brought
-him buttercups, which were gold dollars with handles to them, and
-he scrupulously kept account and returned her change. No lover
-could wear in his buttonhole the rosebud presented by his lady's
-hand with a more tender pride than this father cherished for the
-bunch of wildflowers given him by his little daughter.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_305">{305}</a></span>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis approached the minister's table, and began turning
-over his books. "I don't know anything," she said mournfully,
-opening a Greek copy of Homer, and passing her fingers
-caressingly over the dear little quaint letters. "Wallace, wasn't
-it?&mdash;that poor Horace Binney&mdash;
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-             'Doubly dead,
-  In that he died so young,'
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-writes of the 'arrowy certainty of Grecian phrases.' Woe is me! I
-cannot get at the point. I can only see the feathering."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret looked up with an exclamation from the book in her hand.
-"Listen! Coleridge, <i>à propos</i> of having republished his
-earlier poems without correction, writes, 'I was afraid of
-disentangling the weed for fear of snapping the flower.'
-Snapping! only a poet would have chosen that word. The
-flower-stem that you can <i>snap</i> must be of sudden and
-luxuriant growth, made up of water and color, with just fibre
-enough to hold the two together. As I read that, I thought
-instantly of a red tulip bursting up bright and hasty through the
-moist, warm mould. That sends me outdoors. I want to see weeds
-and flowers growing tangled together."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Wait a little and let me go with you," Mr. Southard said. "And
-meantime let Mrs. Lewis read us one of her poems, as she promised
-to do."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis had been for years one of those pretty lady writers of
-which the country is full, by no means an artist, or dreaming of
-any such distinction, but writing acceptably to her friends, and
-sometimes pleasing a not too critical public. But she had abjured
-the pen from the day when a friendly publisher, meaning to
-compliment her, issued a volume of "Extracts" from her writings.
-</p>
-<p>
-"A volume!" she cried in dismay. "Why not a bottle? There were my
-poor little fancies torn from their homes and set up in rows,
-like flies and bugs transfixed on pins. I shuddered. I wrote no
-more."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I forgive you for asking me," she said to Mr. Southard. "I dare
-say you want to hear my rhyme, and will think it very pretty. And
-she read:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-           Beating The Bars.
-
-  "0 morning air! O pale, pure fire!
-     Wrap and consume my bonds away.
-   This stifling mesh of sordid flesh
-     Shuts in my spirit from the day.
-
-  "Through sudden chinks the radiance blinks,
-     And drives the winged creature wild.
-   She hears rejoice each ringing voice,
-     She guesses at each happy child.
-
-  "In fleeting glints are shining hints
-     Of freer beings, good and glad;
-   Her dream can trace each lovely face,
-     Each form, in lofty beauty clad.
-
-  "She hears the beat of joyous feet
-     That break no flower, fear no thorn;
-   And almost feels the breeze that steals
-     From out the ever-growing morn.
-
-  "She hears the flow of voices low,
-     And strains to catch the half-known tongue.
-   She hears the gush of streams that rush
-     Their thrilling waters into one.
-
-  "With longing sighs, her baffled eyes
-     She sets where burn the unseen stars.
-   With frantic heats her wings she beats,
-     And breaks them on the stubborn bars.
-
-  "O light!' she cries, 'unseal mine eyes,
-     Or blind me in thine ardent glow.
-   O life and breath! O life in death!
-     O bonds! dissolve, and let me go.
-
-  "'Let drop this crust of cankering rust,
-     The only crown my brow hath won;
-   Shake off the sears of briny tears,
-     And dry my pinions in the sun!'"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Margaret.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My dear," said Mrs. Lewis, "I do not mean it as a rule, but as
-an exception. That was written during my equinoctial."
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton waited for an explanation.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You don't know it yet," the lady continued, "but you will learn
-in time that every woman has her line-gale. It usually comes
-between thirty and forty, sooner or later, and is more or less
-violent. After that, we settle down and let the snows fall on
-us."
-</p>
-<p>
-Ending, she laughed a little; but there was a tightening of the
-lines about the mouth that showed at least remembered pain.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_306">{306}</a></span>
-<p>
-Margaret, going out, stopped to look over Mr. Southard's
-shoulder, drawn there by the absent, dreamy expression of his
-face. If he was painting backgrounds, she thought, what mountains
-of melting blue, what far-away waters, half cloud, half glitter,
-must be stealing to life beneath his hand!
-</p>
-<p>
-He had placed a blank sheet on the easel, and was idly covering
-it with fragmentary improvisations. Under the heading of
-"synonyms" he had written, "<i>Cogito quia sum, et sum quia
-cogito</i>," the text illustrated by a drawing of a cat running
-round after her own tail.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Or a mouse going in at the same hole it came out from," thought
-Margaret.
-</p>
-<p>
-He drew steady, straight lines, crossing them off with wonderful
-regularity; then some airy grace stole down to the tips of his
-firm white fingers, and the ends of the lines leaved and budded
-out, audacious tendrils draped the severest angles, and stars and
-crescents peeped through the spaces. Half impatiently he returned
-to geometrical figures; but pentagons grouped themselves to look
-like five-petaled blossoms or star-crystals of frost, and
-hexagons gathered themselves into a mosaic pavement whereon a
-sandalled foot was set.
-</p>
-<p>
-"This is the Nile," he said, going over all with bold, flowing
-lines; "and here comes Cleopatra's barge, the dusky queen dropped
-among her cushions, a line of steady glow showing under each
-lowered eyelid, cords of cool pearls trying in vain to press into
-quiet her untamable pulses.
-</p>
-<p>
-"This is a close-shut forest solitude, with a carpet of greenest,
-softest moss, whereon I lie like Danae while the heavens shower
-gold on me."
-</p>
-<p>
-Then, with a start, came recollection, and the rush-tip became an
-asp to the Egyptian, and the Greek was drowned in ink.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come out!" he said abruptly. "The air is close here."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will you come, Mrs. Lewis?" asked Miss Hamilton, looking back
-from the door.
-</p>
-<p>
-The lady shook her head in an exhausted manner.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Aura," said Margaret when they reached the veranda," will you
-come down to the beach with us?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank you, dear," said Aurelia gently, "I do not care to go."
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton's eyes flashed a little impatiently. She did not
-like the way in which they withdrew themselves when she was with
-Mr. Southard. But after going a few steps, she glanced back at
-Aurelia, and the two smiled. At the moment it struck her that
-there was something new in Miss Lewis's expression, an unusual
-seriousness and dignity under her sweetness.
-</p>
-<p>
-The day was sultry, but otherwise perfect, the green as fresh as
-at spring, the harbor purple and sparkling, and the sky a deep
-azure, except where a rim of darkness lay piled around the north
-and west, cloud-peaks and cliffs showing as hard and sharp as if
-hewn of stone, but illuminated now and then by lightnings that
-stirred uneasily within them, changing their dense shadows to
-molten gold, or leaping in dazzling crinkled flashes from point
-to point. It seemed a gala-day of nature, so wide, so brilliant,
-so consciously beautiful was everything.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Visibly in his garden walketh God!'" quoted Margaret, looking
-abroad with delight.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The god Pan, you mean," said the minister, whose little sparkle
-of gayety seemed to have been suddenly extinguished.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The Creator pronounced his work good," she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes; but we have changed all that," was the reply. "We have put
-the heart in the wrong place."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_307">{307}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Moses and Molière," thought Miss Hamilton, amused at the
-juxtaposition; then added aloud, "Christ pointed to the lilies of
-the field."
-</p>
-<p>
-"For a moral and a reproof, yes. He made them not a text, but the
-illustration of a text. This delight in inanimate nature is not
-harmful if subordinate to the thought of God; otherwise it is a
-lure. It leads to materialism, or to sentimental religion that is
-worse than none, since it bars the way to a true piety."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret made no reply. In spite of herself, his remarks
-depressed her, and cast some faint shadow over the beauty of the
-scene.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The breakers are coming in," Mr. Southard said presently, in a
-tone of voice that showed his regretful sense of having been
-disagreeable. "We shall have a tempest."
-</p>
-<p>
-They had reached the shore, and stood looking off over the water,
-The liquid emerald wave they watched came rolling toward them,
-paused an instant, then rose and flung itself at their feet,
-rustling away in foam and sliding, silky water, no longer a
-breaker, but a broken.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mr. Southard," Margaret said after a minute, "you know that I
-would like to be religious, if I knew how; but it doesn't seem
-possible. I am like one who, in the dark, wanting to get into a
-house, knocks all about the walls without finding a door. I am
-trying&mdash;in a sort of way&mdash;" She hesitated. What would he say if
-he knew in what way she was trying?
-</p>
-<p>
-"Give up all," he said; "forget self; and think only of God."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What you propose to me is not a path, but a pedestal!" she
-exclaimed, turning from him to go back to the house. "And I am
-not marble."
-</p>
-<p>
-He followed her, looking both hurt and annoyed. Outside the door
-she stopped, and bending toward a little cluster of violets that
-grew there, shook a warning finger in their innocent blue eyes.
-"Don't look at me," she said. "You're wicked!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do not give all your kindness to those who think only of your
-temporal welfare," said the minister hastily, "Remember those
-also who care for your soul."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! why should I remember those who do me good for God's sake?"
-said Miss Hamilton coldly, "Let him reward them; I shall not."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was no one in the parlor when they went in; but they did
-not perceive that at first, it was so dim. The sky had darkened
-rapidly, the clouds rolling up as if self-impelled; for there was
-scarcely a breath of air stirring. A shadow had swept the sparkle
-off the water, and all the western view was shrouded in gloom.
-Southward a single point shone out like a torch amid the
-surrounding obscurity, a beam of sunlight drop-ping on it through
-a cleft cloud, and showing in a golden path visible across the
-heavens. Suddenly, like a torch, it was quenched; and all was
-darkness.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard stood before an open window, with his hands clasped
-be-hind him, and his clear eyes lifted heavenward. Margaret heard
-him repeating lowly, "'Canst thou send lightnings, and will they
-go, and will they return and say to thee, Here we are?'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"After all," she said, "God is love, And however circumstances
-may hem us in from each other, he looks down on all. Perhaps some
-day, lifting us, each after his own way, he will show us not only
-himself, but one another, face to face. I think that there are
-more mistakes than sins in the world; and God is love."
-</p>
-<p>
-"God is justice!" said the minister austerely.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_308">{308}</a></span>
-<p>
-His words were almost lost in a
-low rumble of thunder that curdled all about the heavens.
-Margaret stood beside him, and looked out at the piled-up
-blackness shot through by flying thunderbolts.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ossa upon Pelion," she said. "It is the battle of the gods over
-again, and Jove is everywhere, 'treading the thunders from the
-clouds of air.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-As she spoke, a flash sprang from the north and a flash from the
-west, and caught in their glittering toils the grouped inky
-crests of the tempest, that for an instant stood out against the
-pale blue of the zenith, a stupendous, writhing Laocoon. Then the
-lightnings leaped from that height to the midst of the harbor,
-and stung the hissing waves till far and wide they quivered with
-a froth of flame. As they fell, the heavens seemed to burst in
-one awful report.
-</p>
-<p>
-There were cries through the house, and the whole family,
-servants and all, came rushing into the parlor. Mr. Southard was
-leaning against the wall, with both hands over his face. The
-shock had been severe, and for a little while he was stunned.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are you hurt?" asked Aurelia, going to him at once.
-</p>
-<p>
-He recovered himself, and looked up. "No. Where is Miss
-Hamilton?" Miss Lewis drew back immediately, and showed him
-Margaret holding the frightened Dora in her arms and hushing her
-cries.
-</p>
-<p>
-"God be thanked!" he exclaimed. "We have all escaped."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are the skies falling?" cried Mrs. Lewis.
-</p>
-<p>
-It seemed indeed as though they were. That thunder-clap had
-loosened the pent rain, and it came pouring down in floods,
-veiling them in grayness, the multitudinous plash and patter
-mingling with a sound like myriad chariot wheels driving
-overhead.
-</p>
-<p>
-They closed the windows, which immediately became sheeted with
-water, the servants went back to their places, Dora took courage,
-and ventured to uncover one blue eye, with which she looked
-askance at the window. Mrs. Lewis began to take an esthetic view
-of the matter, and Miss Hamilton a practical, which she carried
-out by setting herself to kindle a fire against the coming of the
-absent ones. They were sure to be drenched.
-</p>
-<p>
-She had wood brought, removed the pine boughs from the fireplace,
-and, kneeling on the hearth, began arranging the pile after the
-most scientific country fashion, miniature back-log, back-stick,
-and fore-stick, then the finished pyramid, sloping smoothly with
-the chimney. It was pretty enough to burn, built of birch, amber
-and golden-hearted, with bark of silver and cinnamon. Nothing
-else in woods so beautiful as those birch colors.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then it must be lighted with ceremony, being their first fire,
-their beltane a little belated. Fresh, drowned roses were
-snatched in out of the drip to crown the pyre, and the ladies had
-the temerity to despatch the minister, as officiating priest,
-with a wax taper, to bring sacred fire from the kitchen grate.
-Lucifer matches were not to be thought of.
-</p>
-<p>
-The lambent flame shone softly out through the chinks, then
-reddened and grew broader, tongues of fire lapped the sticks, and
-disappeared and reappeared, becoming bolder each time, blistering
-brownly the silvery bark, catching at the edges, and rolling it
-up and off the sticks. Columns of milk-white smoke rose, propped
-by half-sheathed flames, and curled over, mimicking every order
-of convolution. Mr. Southard recited:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "'A gleam&mdash;a gleam from Ida's height,
-      By the fire-god sent it came,
-    From watch to watch it leaped, that light,
-      As a rider rode the flame.'"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_309">{309}</a></span>
-<p>
-The smoke shut thickly down, a moment; then a broad blaze burst
-out, wrapped the logs, and began to devour them, roaring like a
-lion.
-</p>
-<p>
-The others gathered about the cheerful fire which was reflected
-in their faces; but Margaret glanced out at the storm, then went
-up to the long chamber entry from which a window looked down the
-townward road, and began walking to and fro there, wringing her
-hands, and listening to the wind and the rain lash the windows. A
-sudden darkness and terror had settled upon her. It was more than
-that atmospheric influence to which many are susceptible, more
-than a mere vague impression of evil; it was a thought as clearly
-defined as if some one had that moment given it utterance in her
-hearing, and it held her like a conviction. Some one whom she
-knew was at that instant dying, or dead!
-</p>
-<p>
-Her hands grew cold; she shook as with an ague fit.
-</p>
-<p>
-She had been too happy. She might have known that it could not
-last. She had known it. In all those happy months, had she not
-drunk every sweet moment with eager lips that had felt, and must
-again feel, the bitterness of thirst? Had she not constantly said
-to herself, It is too bright to last?
-</p>
-<p>
-"I was not meant for earthly happiness," she thought, wringing
-her hands.
-</p>
-<p>
-The walls shook in the clutch of the blast. Noises came up from
-the sea; and wild voices answered them from echoing rocks and
-from out the hollow woods. A great wall seemed to have risen
-between her and paradise, with a ceaseless swing of lightning
-guarding the entrance.
-</p>
-<p>
-She fell on her knees and prayed, one of those terrible,
-voiceless prayers when the heart strains upward, but utters no
-petition, because it dares not think what it fears or what it
-desires.
-</p>
-<p>
-Leaning exhausted then against the window frame, whom should she
-see but her great drenched hero striding down the road, no form
-but his, she knew, though a slouched hat covered his face, and a
-long cloak wrapped him from neck to heel.
-</p>
-<p>
-In a flash, the great wall changed its front, and now shut her
-inside paradise. She ran joyfully downstairs to open the door,
-and caught the wind and rain in her face, but caught also with
-them a smile.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Where is Mr. Lewis?" she asked, thinking of that gentleman by a
-happy inspiration.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger stepped in and shook himself like a half-drowned
-Newfoundland dog. "Mr. Lewis stopped to drink General Sinclair's
-health. He will come down in the next train."
-</p>
-<p>
-"General?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes; Maurice is made a brigadier. He doesn't have to climb the
-ladder, you see, the ladder comes down to him. And truly he is a
-gallant fellow. He goes in front of his men, and laughs at danger
-as he laughs at fortune."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I've got a fire in the parlor for you," she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-He looked at her smilingly, pleased at the childish delight in
-his coming which she did not try to hide. Why should she? "Have
-you? That's pleasant. Now help me off with my cloak. I cannot
-unfasten that buckle at the back of the neck. Stand on the stair
-with the railing between us, that you may not get wet."
-</p>
-<p>
-As she stood near him, she caught a sweet breath of English
-violets.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I brought them out for you," he said, giving them to her. "See!
-not a stem is broken."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_310">{310}</a></span>
-<p>
-She ran up-stairs to put the flowers in her chamber&mdash;they were
-too sacred to be shared with others&mdash;and coming down, entered the
-parlor just after Mr. Granger. Presently Mr. Lewis appeared, and
-they had dinner.
-</p>
-<p>
-The conversation chanced to turn on presentiments; and since they
-were all in very friendly humor, Miss Hamilton told of her
-afternoon terror, making it as presentable as possible. "I
-suffered a few minutes of mortal fear," she said. "I seemed to
-<i>know</i> that some dreadful accident had happened to one of
-the family. What is the meaning of those impressions that are
-often false, but sometimes true, and that come to us so suddenly,
-uninvited and unexpected?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"They are the conclusion of which a woman is one of the
-premises," Mr. Lewis said in his rough way. "Did you ever hear of
-a man having presentiments? Of course not. He may have if his
-liver is out of order; not otherwise."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I'm not bilious," pouted Miss Hamilton.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis had been listening with interest. She was one of those
-persons who believe that there are more things in heaven and
-earth than are dreamed of in most philosophies. Her husband
-called her superstitious.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I believe in those presentiments which come to us unexpectedly,"
-she said. "We may know that they come from outside by the shock
-of their coming. We may not be clear. We may think that they
-point to the past or the present, when really they indicate the
-future. I think that what we call a true presentiment is a
-communication from some outside intelligence."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret started and looked uneasily at the speaker. Mr. Lewis
-regarded his wife with affectionate contempt. "There's the woman
-who always wishes when she sees two white-faced horses coming
-toward her, and when she sees the new moon over her right
-shoulder, and who won't wear an opal because it's an unlucky gem,
-though it is her favorite. That's the way with women. Their
-manner of arriving at conclusions is a caution to common sense.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis sugared her strawberries, and seemed to soliloquize.
-"'Two wings are better than ten legs,' says the butterfly to the
-caterpillar."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger good-naturedly came to the rescue. "It is my
-opinion," he said, "that these excessively reasonable people make
-as many mistakes as the most imaginative, only their mistakes are
-not so obvious, though often far worse. They chill fresh
-spontaneous feeling, they dampen enthusiasm, they wound hearts
-that they cannot heal. In ordinary matters, I set reason above
-all; but when we would measure the walls of the new Jerusalem, we
-must have a reed of gold, and it must be in the hand of an
-angel."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard had also his word to say in defence of woman against
-Mr. Lewis's slighting remarks. But his serious defence was more
-irritating than the others' laughing attack. He spoke honorably,
-and often truly; but in the tone of one who understands the
-subject, root and branch. The three ladies listening felt as if
-they were three primers with pretty pictures, and nice little
-good lessons in large print, which Mr. Southard had read with
-edification to himself in the intervals of more serious study.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Woman," he said, "woman is&mdash;" And paused there, catching an
-impatient sparkle in Miss Hamilton's eyes.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_311">{311}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Oh! I know," she exclaimed with the stammering eagerness of a
-child who can spell a big word&mdash;"I know what woman is!
-'<i>Hominis confusio</i>.' I&mdash;I read it in a book."
-</p>
-<p>
-The minister sat silent and confounded.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I propose the health of General Sinclair," said Mr. Lewis.
-</p>
-<p>
-After dinner the party gathered about the parlor fire, and as it
-fell from flame to coal, told stories of hurricanes, and
-tornadoes, and shipwrecks, the fearful recitals intensifying
-their sense of comfort and safety.
-</p>
-<p>
-While they talked, the storm passed away, and there was only the
-sound of vines swinging against the panes, and the ceaseless
-murmur of the sea. When they opened the window, clouds of perfume
-came in. The sky was quite clear, and there was a tinge of orange
-yet lingering in the west. In the east was a still brighter
-aurora, and the full moon, coming up, feathered with a crest of
-gold every crisp, bright wavelet.
-</p>
-<p>
-They all went out and strolled down to the beach. Every leaf and
-twig and blossom, and the long line of the eaves, were hung full
-of glittering rain-drops, and the grass shone as if sheathed in
-burnished silver.
-</p>
-<p>
-They sighed and were silent. A scene so lovely and peaceful is
-always like a rebuke.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-           Chapter VII.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "This monarch, so great, so powerful,
-     must die, must die, must die."
-  "Praise be to him who liveth for ever."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-During that whole summer there was a quiet but potent influence
-at work under Margaret Hamilton's superficial life; ever at work,
-yet silently, scarcely recognized by herself. The spark struck
-out by Mr. Southard in his anti-Catholic lecture was slowly
-kindling in the depths of her being.
-</p>
-<p>
-There was not a thought of controversy in her mind. As she read,
-one doctrine after another appeared, and showed its harmony with
-some need of hers; or if not needed, it was not antagonistic,
-like the pleasant face of a stranger who may become a friend.
-Fortunately, no person and no book had said to her, You
-<i>must</i> believe; and so awakened opposition. Or if the
-obligation had been insinuated, she had not perceived it. She
-felt that it was for her alone to say what she must believe, as
-long as she invited truth generously, and was ready to accept it
-when it appeared to her with a truthful face. Of course she was
-not one to make syllogisms at every step, and, being a woman, was
-not likely to think that necessary. She looked up to find one
-truth after another standing smiling and confident on the
-threshold of her heart, and as smilingly she bade them welcome.
-Reason gave up the reins to intuition, and light came without a
-cloud. She realized nothing, till, startled by some outside call
-that woke a many-voiced stir of hitherto silent guests, she
-opened her eyes, and found herself a Catholic.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first emotion was one of incredulity; then followed delight,
-mingled with a fear which was merely the shadow cast by old
-bugbears that, looked at fearlessly in that new light, faded and
-fled like ghosts at dawning. Then all surprise faded away. She
-recognized her proper place. She was at home.
-</p>
-<p>
-But how to tell Mr. Granger! For she must tell him without delay.
-It was not an easy task. If he had suspected, perhaps she could
-have spoken; but he never dreamed of the change in her. If the
-subject had been introduced, she must have spoken; but for some
-reason, the "papists" were allowed to rest unscathed in the
-family conversations.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_312">{312}</a></span>
-It was the war; it was General Sinclair, sabre in hand, riding
-into battle as if it were a <i>féte</i>; it was the weather, a
-whole month of persistent and most illogical rain, pouring down
-through west winds, through dry moons, through red sunsets,
-through every sign that should bring clear skies, Taurus being
-clerk of the weather, they concluded; it was when they should go
-back to town&mdash;" Not till the trees should resume specie payment,"
-was Mr. Granger's professional dictum; it was any and everything
-but theology. And so the weeks went past, and October came, and
-the story was not told. But he must know before they returned to
-town, for then she was to be baptized.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her uneasiness did not escape Mr. Granger, and in some measure it
-communicated itself to him. He perceived that she wished to say
-something to him, yet was afraid to speak.
-</p>
-<p>
-"After all," he thought, "why should I wait for her to begin? She
-is as timid, sometimes, as much of a baby, as my Dora. I dare say
-it is some foolish thing, only fit to laugh at. I must help her."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was Sunday. Mr. Southard was in town, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis and
-Aurelia taking their farewell walk in the pine woods, for the
-family were to leave the seashore that week, and Dora was in the
-kitchen, hushing to sleep an interesting family of kittens. Miss
-Hamilton walked up and down the piazza, and Mr. Granger sat just
-inside one of the windows, looking at her. He saw that she
-occasionally glanced his way, and hesitated, and that with some
-suspense or fear her face had grown very pale.
-</p>
-<p>
-He leaned on the sill, as she came past, and regarded her
-anxiously.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are not looking well," he said. "I hope that nothing
-troubles you."
-</p>
-<p>
-She came to him immediately, eagerly; a faint smile just touching
-her lips, and fading again.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I wanted to tell you; but I was afraid," she said, speaking like
-one out of breath.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am sorry that you are afraid of me. Have I ever given you
-reason to be?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret could not look at him, but leaned against a pillar near
-the window, and averted her face.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I was afraid only because you might think&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-She stopped.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My dear child, what a coward you are!" he exclaimed, half
-laughing. "You are worse than Dora. She had not such an air of
-terror when she broke my precious Palissy plate. Must I apply the
-thumbscrew?"
-</p>
-<p>
-She turned toward him suddenly, and with a look stopped his
-raillery.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Would you be much displeased, Mr. Granger, if I should be a
-Catholic?" she asked; then held her breath while she awaited his
-reply.
-</p>
-<p>
-His first expression was one of utter astonishment.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But you are not in earnest!" he said, after a moment. "This is
-only a fancy."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Don't believe that!" said Margaret. "I am so firmly a Catholic
-that I would die for the faith. It has been growing in my mind a
-long time; and now the work is finished. I could not go back,
-even to please you, Mr. Granger. I must follow my convictions."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Certainly," he said very quietly, looking down. "No one has a
-right to interfere with your convictions. Do you intend to become
-openly a Catholic, and leave your own church for that?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not know how to believe one thing and say another," she
-replied. "I am to be baptized as soon as I go in town."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_313">{313}</a></span>
-<p>
-She seemed abrupt, almost defiant; but it was only because she
-was weak.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger drew himself up slightly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Since your mind is so fully made up, and your arrangements
-perfected, there is, of course, no more to be said about the
-matter. I am surprised, since I have not been led to expect
-anything of the sort; but I have neither the right nor the desire
-to control your religious opinions. Fortunately, conscience is
-free in this country."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But you are displeased!" she exclaimed tremulously; for every
-word had fallen like ice upon her heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You cannot expect me to be pleased, since I am not a Catholic,"
-was the reply.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret sighed heavily under the first pressure of her cross.
-"You wish me to go away?"
-</p>
-<p>
-He looked at her in astonishment. "Certainly not! When I say that
-I have no right or desire to interfere in your religion, I mean
-that I am not to persecute you or to make any difference with you
-on account of it. Nothing is to be changed unless you wish it."
-</p>
-<p>
-She had expected him to ask some explanation; but not a word more
-did he say. He seemed to think that the subject was disposed of.
-</p>
-<p>
-His silence wrung her heart like the veriest indifference; but he
-was not indifferent. He thought, "She has done all this without
-confiding in me, and tells me only when she must. It is not for
-me to question her. What I am to know she must communicate
-voluntarily."
-</p>
-<p>
-She waited a moment, then turned slowly away, went in at the
-door, and up-stairs to her chamber.
-</p>
-<p>
-When they met again, Mr. Granger tried to be quite as usual. He
-was even more scrupulously respectful than formerly. But she felt
-the chill of all that courtesy that had once been kindness. The
-next day she went in town, and was baptized. The sooner the
-better, she thought. But, if she had expected any delight or
-conscious change to follow the reception of the sacrament, she
-was disappointed. There was only that calm which follows the
-consciousness of being in the right way. The baptism was strictly
-private; no one present but the two necessary witnesses; and
-after it was over, she took the cars back to the country.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Everything is peaceful," she thought, walking through the silent
-woods, now burning with autumn colors. "Everything is sweet," she
-added, as, coming in sight of the house, she saw little Dora
-running joyfully out to meet her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"When you come back, I'm glad all over," said the child.
-</p>
-<p>
-That evening Mr. Southard came home alone, and with a very grave
-face. "I have bad news for you," was his first greeting on
-entering the parlor.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis started up with a cry. Miss Hamilton sank back in her
-chair.
-</p>
-<p>
-"General Sinclair is killed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank God!" exclaimed both ladies.
-</p>
-<p>
-They thought that some accident had happened to Mr. Granger or
-Uncle Charles," explained Aurelia, seeing the minister's
-astonishment.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Some people never know how to tell bad news!" cried Mrs. Lewis,
-her face still crimson with that first terrified leap of the
-heart. "Can't you see, Mr. Southard, that you ought to have begun
-by saying that our family were all well? Look at that girl! She
-is like a snow image. Oh! well, excuse me; but you did give me
-such a start. Now tell us the whole, please. I am very sorry."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_314">{314}</a></span>
-<p>
-Poor Mr. Southard took his scolding with the greatest humility,
-but was so disconcerted by it that he could hardly finish the
-recital.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger had received a telegram from Washington, and had gone
-on immediately to bring the remains of his cousin home for
-burial. He wished them to go into town, and have the house open
-for the funeral. General Sinclair's wife was ill in Montreal, and
-could not be present. Mr. Granger had telegraphed her before
-starting.
-</p>
-<p>
-They went to town the next day, and hastened to put the house in
-order; and on the second day Mr. Granger arrived.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was impossible to have a private funeral. Mr. Sinclair had a
-host of friends, his reputation was a brilliant one, and he had
-died in battle. Military companies offered their escort, and the
-public desired to honor the dead by some demonstration. Finally,
-Mr. Southard opened his church, and consented to preach the
-sermon.
-</p>
-<p>
-One would have thought that some public benefactor had died. The
-church was crowded, and crowds lined the streets through which
-the procession passed. Many a great and good man has died, yet
-received no such ovation.
-</p>
-<p>
-A military funeral is the sublime of mourning. We may not know
-whose memory is thus honored, whose silence thus lamented; but
-those wailing strains of music touch our heartstrings as the wind
-sweeps the windharp, and tears start at the obsequies of him
-whose name we never heard, whose face we never looked upon.
-Perhaps it is that requiem music mourns not that one man is dead,
-but that all men must die.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard had felt a temporary embarrassment as to the manner
-in which he should treat his subject. He could not hold the dead
-up as a model, for Mr. Sinclair had been an unbeliever and a man
-of the world. There was but one way, and that one was congenial
-to the speaker and welcome to the hearers. The man must be, as
-much as was possible, ignored in the cause.
-</p>
-<p>
-From the moment when the minister rose in the pulpit, the spirit
-in which he would speak was plain to be seen. His mouth was
-stern, there was a steel-like flash in his eyes, and his voice
-was clear and ringing when he announced his text:
-</p>
-<p>
-"<i>And he said to Zebee and Salmana: What manner of men were
-they whom you slew in Thabor? They answered: They were like thee,
-and one of them as the son of a king. He answered them: They were
-my brethren, the sons of my mother. As the Lord liveth, if you
-had saved them, I would not kill you. And he said to Jether his
-eldest son: Arise, and slay them</i>."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was a pause of utter silence; then the minister extended
-his hands toward the open, flag-draped, flower-crowned coffin in
-front of the pulpit, and exclaimed, "One of them as the son of a
-king!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Instantly every eye was turned on that white and silent face, and
-the princely form extended there, superbly beautiful as a marble
-god. It seemed regicide to kill such a man. After that look,
-scarcely one present revolted at the tone of the sermon, which
-echoed throughout the vengeful call, "Arise, and slay them!"
-</p>
-<p>
-As the family sat that evening at home, trying to throw off the
-gloomy impressions of the day, and to talk quite as usual, the
-conversation, by some chance, turned on theology, and settled
-upon Catholicism. Mr. Granger, who had been sitting apart and
-silent, roused himself at that, and tried to introduce some other
-topic, but without success. Miss Hamilton was mute, feeling that
-her time had come. If only her friend were on her side, she would
-not have cared so much; but he was far from her. The coldness
-that had arisen between them at first had increased rather than
-diminished. Perhaps it was partly her own fault; but it hurt her
-none the less.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_315">{315}</a></span>
-<p>
-"The papists are certainly gaining ground in this country," Mr.
-Southard said. "We have hard work before us. They know how to
-appeal to the frivolous tastes of the times, as of old they
-appealed to the superstitious. Their music pleases opera-goers,
-and their ceremonies amuse the curious. Worse than that, their
-sophistries deceive the romantic and the credulous."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! live and let live," interposed Mr. Granger hastily. "There
-are a good many roads to heaven."
-</p>
-<p>
-"The Son of God said that there was but one," replied the
-minister.
-</p>
-<p>
-"If there is but one," Mr. Granger said, rising, "he is a bold
-man who will say that he is right, and all the others wrong."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are you a Catholic, Mr. Granger?" demanded Mr. Southard with
-some heat.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No," was the reply; "but some who are dear to me are Catholic."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret's heart gave a bound. She breathed an aspiration. Her
-time had come. She was sitting alone opposite them all, and they
-all looked at her as she leaned forward with a slight gesture
-that checked further speech.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am a Catholic, Mr. Southard," she said. "I was baptized this
-week."
-</p>
-<p>
-The minister started up with an exclamation, the others stared in
-astonishment; but Mr. Granger took a step and placed himself at
-Margaret's side.
-</p>
-<p>
-O generous heart! She did not look at him, but she began to
-tremble, as the snow-wreath trembles in the sun before it quite
-melts away.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You cannot mean it!" Mr. Southard found voice to say.
-</p>
-<p>
-O joy! She wasn't afraid of him now.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am quite in earnest," she replied.
-</p>
-<p>
-He leaned against the table near him, too much excited to sit,
-too much overcome to stand unsupported.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You mean that you are pleased with their ceremonies, that some
-of their doctrines are plausible, not that you accept them all,
-and pay allegiance to the pope of Rome. It cannot be!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I honor the pope as the head of the church, and I can listen to
-no teacher of religion whom he does not approve," was the reply.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My God!" muttered the minister. He stood one moment looking at
-her as if he saw a spectre, then turned away with drooping head,
-and went toward the door, staggering so that he had to put his
-hand out for support. To that sincere but mistaken man it was as
-if he had seen the pit open, and one he loved drawn into it.
-</p>
-<p>
-The others sat silent and embarrassed, till Aurelia, bursting
-into tears, started up and left the room.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret glanced at Mrs. Lewis, and found that she had quite
-recovered from her surprise.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The programme seems to be flourish of trumpet, and <i>exeunt
-omnes</i>," the lady said. "But I mean to stand my ground. I
-don't find you in the least frightful. You look to me precisely
-as you did an hour ago, only brighter perhaps. My only fear at
-this instant is lest we may have to tie you up to keep you out of
-a convent."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have no thought of a convent," said Margaret.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_316">{316}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Oh! well, I don't see but we can get along with everything else.
-There's fish on Fridays, and the necessity of holding one's
-tongue occasionally. I think we can manage. Mr. Lewis, can you
-shut your mouth sufficiently to give an opinion?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus called upon, Mr. Lewis found voice. "What in the world did
-you want to go and turn Catholic for?" he demanded angrily.
-"Couldn't you like 'em well enough at a distance, as I do? That's
-just a woman's romantic, headlong way of doing things up to the
-handle. You've upset your own dish completely. Nobody will marry
-you now."
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton smiled. "That is a view of the matter which I never
-thought to take," she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But you must think of that," Mr. Lewis persisted, perfectly in
-earnest.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, thank you; I won't," she replied, rising. "I thank you
-all"&mdash;with downcast eyes and a little tremor in her voice&mdash;"I
-thank you that you are not too angry with me for what I could not
-help. I could not have borne&mdash;" There words failed her.
-</p>
-<p>
-She glanced at Mr. Granger as she went out, and caught one of
-those heartfelt smiles which lighted his face when he was
-thoroughly friendly and pleased.
-</p>
-<p>
-There was little rest for her that night. Hour after hour she
-heard Mr. Southard's step pacing to and fro in his chamber
-beneath, not ceasing till near morning. But after she went to
-bed, Aurelia came softly in, and, bending, put her arms around
-Margaret, and kissed her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am sorry if I made you feel bad by going away so," she said in
-a voice stifled by long weeping. "But you know I was so taken by
-surprise. Of course we are all the same friends as ever.
-Good-night, dear! Go to sleep, and don't worry about anything.
-Mr. Granger and aunt and uncle told me to say good-night to you
-for them."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How good everybody is&mdash;God and everybody!" thought Margaret.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the morning all appeared as usual, except that there was no
-Mr. Southard at the table. Luncheon-time came, and Mrs. James
-reported the minister to have locked his door and declined
-refreshment. When the dinner-bell rang, still Mr. Southard had
-not come down.
-</p>
-<p>
-"If he doesn't come to dinner," Miss Hamilton thought, thoroughly
-vexed, "I will send him a note which will give him an appetite.
-This is sheer nonsense."
-</p>
-<p>
-But as they entered the dining-room they heard his step on the
-stairs, and he followed them in.
-</p>
-<p>
-Hearing him greet the others quite in his usual manner, Margaret
-glanced at him, and found him waiting to bow to her. He looked as
-if he had had a long illness.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What! you desert your seat too?" he said, seeing her go toward
-the other end of the table.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I thought you might be afraid to sit by me," she replied
-pettishly. Then, as he dropped his glance and colored faintly,
-she repented, and went back to her seat by him.
-</p>
-<p>
-When they rose, he spoke to her aside. "May I see you in the
-library now, or at your convenience? I would gladly speak with
-you tonight."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Now, if you please," she answered, thinking it best to have the
-interview over at once, since it was inevitable.
-</p>
-<p>
-It would be worse than useless to repeat the minister's
-arguments. With more of patience and humility than she had
-expected, he asked for and listened to the story of her
-conversion. But his calmness deserted him more and more as he
-perceived how firmly grounded was her conviction, and how hard
-would be the task of reclaiming her.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_317">{317}</a></span>
-<p>
-Polemical discussions were always irritating, but not always
-convincing, she insisted. She could not trust herself to engage
-in them, even if she were capable. She did not want to be told
-that such a man had been wicked, that such an abuse had existed.
-When treason had found a place among the apostles, it might well
-taint some of their successors. It mattered not; her faith was
-not based on any individual. Let Mr. Southard take the doctrines
-of the church, as she had learned them, from the church itself,
-and then prove them false if he could. Let him take the books
-that had satisfied her, and answer their arguments, theologian to
-theologian. With her the contest would be unequal; but she would
-gladly listen to his refutation, she assured him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What books have you read?" he asked, resting his head on his
-hand, disconcerted to find that, instead of being opposed to an
-uninstructed young woman, he was to have arrayed against him the
-flower of Catholic theologians.
-</p>
-<p>
-She named them, an imposing list, at the repetition of which a
-slow red crept up into the minister's cheeks. Apparently the
-young woman was not so uninstructed as he had thought.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mr. Southard," she concluded, "I have no desire but to know the
-truth. If you can convince me that I am wrong, I will renounce my
-errors as promptly as I adopted them. If you are thoroughly
-convinced that you are in the right way, then you ought to be
-fearless. But if it is too much trouble for you to study the
-subject, if I am not worth it, then let the matter drop."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I will read the books, and go over their arguments with you,"
-the minister said, looking at her keenly as if he suspected some
-hidden motive in her proposal.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am honest!" she said, hurt by his expression. "What have I to
-gain, if not heaven? What have I not to lose? I feel surely that
-our happy household will never again be the same that it has
-been."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I must believe you sincere," he replied. "But I cannot imagine
-what should have set you, of all persons, on this track."
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton smiled as she rose. "It was you, sir. You should
-beware of the flattery of abuse."
-</p>
-<p>
-The next morning after breakfast the minister found on his study
-table a pile of controversial works that the housekeeper had been
-instructed to leave there for him. Beside them lay a crucifix. He
-touched it, and it seemed to burn his fingers. He pushed it away,
-and it burned his heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-"After all, it is the image of my crucified Redeemer," he said;
-and took it in his hand again. Looking at it a moment, his eyes
-filled with tears.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-               To Be Continued.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_318">{318}</a></span>
-<br>
-                <h2>Good Old Saxon.</h2>
-
-	        <h3>By An English Catholic.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-During the last five years an admirable society, formed in
-London, and called the Early English Text Society, has been
-reproducing at a cheap rate a large number of curious and
-valuable works written in the thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth,
-and sixteenth centuries. Many of these existed in manuscript
-only, while others were out of print, and very difficult of
-attainment. They range over a variety of different subjects, and
-being beautifully printed, amply supplied with notes and
-glossaries, and each edited by an accomplished Anglo-Saxon
-scholar, they afford clergymen, antiquarians, and men of letters
-in general an excellent opportunity of becoming familiar with the
-earlier forms of the English language, and the best authors
-during a literary period hitherto regarded as obscure.
-</p>
-<p>
-These publications synchronize with, and have partly grown out
-of, a movement which, though retrograde, has been really an
-improvement and an advance&mdash;a movement, namely, from Latinized to
-Saxon English. We may perhaps date its commencement from the time
-when Dr. Johnson was approaching his sixtieth year. He had, for a
-long time, been lending the weight of his great name to the
-practice of using very long words, and those chiefly of Latin
-origin. In doing this he had not merely followed a crowd of
-classical English writers, but had put himself at their head. The
-genius of the language was being lost, and when it seemed to be
-gaining strength, it was in reality growing weaker. Its original
-tendency had been toward words of one syllable, but under
-Shaftesbury, Bolingbroke, and a multitude of essayists and
-pamphleteers of the eighteenth century, it tended strongly toward
-the use of words of many syllables. Thus sound was frequently
-substituted for sense, and sentences, though they ran more
-smoothly, had in them far less fibre. An air of pedantry was
-thrown over expressions, when such a word as "tremulousness" was
-substituted for "quivering," and "exsiccation" for "drying."
-Mannerism was certainly the mildest epithet that could be applied
-to such changes, when they became frequent and systematic. An
-instance of the habit in question is often quoted from Johnson's
-Dictionary, where, in defining "net" and "network," he calls the
-first, "anything made with <i>interstitial vacuities</i>," and
-the second, "anything <i>reticulated</i> or <i>decussated</i>, at
-equal distances, with <i>interstices</i> between the
-<i>intersections</i>."
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet Johnson himself had, in the grammar prefixed to his
-Dictionary, pointed out clearly how very monosyllabic English was
-originally, how "our ancestors were studious to form borrowed
-words, however long, into monosyllables;" how they cut off
-terminations, cropped the first syllable, rejected vowels in the
-middle, and weaker consonants, retaining the stronger, which seem
-"the bones of words." Thus, from "excrucio" they made "screw;"
-from "exscorio," "scour;" from "excortico," "scratch;" from
-"hospital," "spittle;" and the like.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_319">{319}</a></span>
-By such processes, performed not according to rule, but by the
-unconscious working of national instincts, our forefathers
-produced a wonderful agreement between the sound of their words
-and the thing signified. <i>Squeak, crush, brawl, whirl, bustle,
-twine,</i> are but a few among a multitude of instances which
-will occur to any one who gives attention to the subject. Wallis,
-indeed, a writer often quoted in the grammar referred to,
-establishes the fact of a great agreement subsisting between even
-the letters, in the native words of our language, and the thing
-signified; and his analysis of the meaning conveyed by sn, str,
-st, thr, wr, sw, cl, sp, and other combinations is highly
-ingenious and, on the whole, satisfactory. He comes to the
-conclusion that one of our monosyllable words "emphatically
-expresses what in other languages can scarce be explained but by
-compounds, or decompounds, or sometimes a tedious
-circumlocution."
-</p>
-<p>
-But although Dr. Johnson, like Wallis, appreciated highly the
-Saxon origin and character of English, though he fully recognized
-the strength which it derives from its native sources as opposed
-to southern innovations, his own practice was eminently faulty,
-and sure, in the hands of his imitators, to degenerate into
-pedantry and stilts. It was well, therefore, that when his career
-was drawing to a close, an obscure but highly gifted boy in
-Bristol ransacked the muniment room of St. Mary Redcliffe's
-Church, and found, or pretended to have found, in its old chests,
-the poems of Rowley, who was said to have written in the time of
-Edward III. The poems were not without merit in themselves, but,
-when Chatterton had, amid the pangs of hunger, put an end to his
-short and weary existence, they attracted attention in
-consequence of the antiquated form in which they appeared. They
-were like the fossil remains of extinct animals, and spoke of a
-literary period little known at that time even to the best
-English scholars. They breathed the language and the spirit of
-Chaucer; and from the moment of their appearance may be traced
-the reaction in favor of Saxon phraseology which marks the
-literature of the present day. The boy-author saw by intuition
-what Dr. Wallis had reduced to rules. Perhaps he had never
-analyzed very closely his own reasons, nor traced attentively the
-process of nature in the formation of words, so as to produce in
-them an agreement between the sound and the thing signified; but
-his youthful ear was charmed with the native energy of what Byron
-called our "northern guttural," and he loved to imitate, in such
-lines as these, the rugged sweetness of the early English poets:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "The rodie welkin sheeneth to the eyne;
-   In dasied mantles is the mountain dight,
-   The neshe young cowslip bendeth with the dew."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-In these lines, all the words are of the pure Saxon type; and the
-same may be said of almost every stanza in Chaucer's Tales.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "The flowrs of many divers hue
-   Upon their stalkis gonin for to spread,
-   And for to splay out their leavis ill brede,
-   Again the sun, gold-burned in his sphere,
-   That down to them y-cast his beamis clear.'
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-And again, as we read in "The Clerke's Tale:"
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "And whanne sche com hom sche wolde brynge
-     Wortis and other herbis tymes ofte,
-   The which sche shred and seth for her lyvyng
-     And made her bed ful hard, and nothing softe."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-This, as regards language, is the mould in which the Tales are
-cast. The same Saxon stamp imprinted on the verse of Spenser,
-though the <i>Fairie Queen</i> came two centuries after the
-<i>Canterbury Tales</i>. One stanza shall suffice as a specimen:
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_320">{320}</a></span>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Then came the jolly summer, being dight
-     In a thin silken cassock coloured greene,
-   That was unlyned all, to be more light;
-     And on his head a girland well beseene
-   He wore, from which as he had chauffed been
-     The sweat did drop; and in his hand he bore
-   A bow and shaftes; as he in forrest greene
-     Had hunted late the libbard or the bore
-   And now would bathe his limbs with labor heated sore."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The habits and tastes of Ben Jonson and of Milton were largely
-influenced by their classical studies. The best authors of
-ancient Greece and Rome filled their memories, and it was only
-natural that their writings should betray at every turn the
-sources from which they had been fed. Yet a multitude of passages
-might be cited from these poets in which the genuine ring of the
-early English rhymers only is heard. Thus Ben Jonson, in a
-favorite piece of advice to a reckless youth, says:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Nor would I you should melt away yourself
-   In flashing bravery; lest, while you affect
-   To make a blaze of gentry to the world,
-   A little puff of scorn extinguish it,
-   And you be left like an unsavoury snuff
-   Whose property is only to offend."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The last line has more than one word of Latin origin; but in
-Milton's <i>Mask of Comus</i> we find long passages entirely free
-from the foreign element. Thus, Sabrina sings:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "By the rushy-fringed bank
-   Where grows the willow and the osier dank,
-       My sliding chariot stays,
-   Thick set with agat, and the azure sheen
-   Of turkis blue and em'rald green,
-       That in the channel strays;
-     Whilst from off the waters fleet
-     Thus I set my printless feet
-     O'er the cowslip's velvet head
-     That bends not as I tread."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Now it must not be supposed that in calling attention to the
-Saxon character of English as opposed to, or distinct from, its
-Latin and Norman aspects, we are advocating any exclusive system.
-We rejoice in our language being a compound; and as some of the
-most exquisite perfumes are produced by distilling a variety of
-different flowers and leaves, so languages formed by the mixture
-of several races, and influenced by numerous changes and chances
-in the history of the people who speak them, are often, in their
-way, as vigorous and beautiful as any of more simple origin. This
-is especially the case with that tongue which, being our own, is
-dearer to us than all besides. But because it consists, and must
-ever consist, of various elements, there is no reason why we
-should be indifferent to the relative proportions in which these
-elements are mixed together; nor is it by any means superfluous
-to inquire whether the tendency of a compound language may not,
-at any particular period, be toward corruption and decay, and, at
-another time, toward health, consistency, majesty, melody, and
-strength.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have assumed that Saxon is the basis of English, and that of
-late years there has been among English writers a tendency to
-reascend the stream to its source, to freshen and invigorate
-their diction by the use of native, as distinct from foreign
-words. We have mentioned Chatterton as being, perhaps
-unconsciously, a leader in this movement; and we would add that
-Burns also fostered the reviving taste for pure English; for,
-though he wrote in the Scottish dialect, that dialect had, and
-has still, a thousand points of contact with our language in the
-days of its youth. Though its peculiarities were of Gaelic rather
-than Saxon origin, yet they resembled old English in this, that
-they were marked by short words and many consonants. Hence Robert
-Burns's verse revolts instinctively from the many liquid
-syllables of the South, and is wild and ragged as the crags and
-glens which were his favorite haunts. So far as it influenced our
-literature, it recalled it from the smoother and less vigorous
-course of Latinized or Johnsonian English to the sharper,
-simpler, and clearer notes of less artificial times.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_321">{321}</a></span>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Your critic-folk may cock their nose
-   And say, How can <i>you</i> e'er propose,
-   <i>You</i> who ken hardly verse frae prose,
-       To mak a sang?
-   But, by your leaves, my learned foes,
-       Ye're may be wrang."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The touch and racy dialect of the <i>Border Minstrelsy</i>, which
-Walter Scott edited, Mr. Evans's <i>Collection of Old
-Ballads</i>, and Percy's <i>Reliques of Ancient English
-Poetry</i>, guided public taste into a direction opposed to the
-tame mediocrity of the imitators of Dryden and Pope. The ear and
-the mind alike were charmed by the exceeding simplicity of the
-style of these old ballads, and their almost exclusive use of
-monosyllables.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here are a few notes from one of those Jacobite songs which
-resounded so freely among the Highlands when Prince Charles
-Edward came to recover the crown of his fathers. Walter Scott
-compares such ballads to the "grotesque carving on a Gothic
-niche:"
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "It's nae the battle's deadly stoure
-   Nor friends pruived fause that'll gar me cower,
-   But the reckless hand o' povertie,
-   Oh! that alane can daunton me!
-
-  "High was I born to kingly gear,
-   But a cuif came in my cap to wear,
-   But wi' my braid sword I'll let him see
-   He's nae the man will daunton me."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The Lake school of poetry, being founded in a deep love of nature
-and a close scrutiny of her works, had a concurrent influence in
-restoring the liberal use of the older forms of speech. Writers
-like Charles Lamb, whose minds were richly stored with the
-treasures of Elizabethan lore, were sometimes accused of
-affectation in employing archaisms, but "the old words of the
-poet," as the author of "Summer Time in the Country" observes,
-"like the foreign accent of a sweet voice, give a charm to the
-tone, without in any large degree obscuring the sense." Indeed,
-if the most popular passages in Wordsworth, and in his great
-master Shakespeare, be examined, they will be found to answer on
-the whole to that ideal of English phraseology which is here
-formed&mdash;one, namely, in which the Saxon element largely
-predominates. Thus, almost at random, we quote from <i>The
-Midsummer Night's Dream:</i>
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here,
-   So near the cradle of the fairy queen?"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-And from Wordsworth's "Idle Shepherd Boys:"
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Beneath a rock, upon the grass,
-     Two boys are sitting in the sun;
-   Boys that have had no work to do,
-     Or work that now is done.
-   On pipes of sycamore they play
-     The fragments of a Christmas hymn;
-   Or with that plant which in our dale
-   We call stag-horn or fox's tail,
-     Their rusty hats they trim:
-   And thus, as happy as the day,
-   Those shepherds wear the time away."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Shakespeare's description of Queen Mab, in <i>Romeo and
-Juliet</i>, may also be pointed out as a signal example of pure
-Saxon English throughout; but it is too long and too familiar to
-our readers to be quoted here.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are not wanting men of talent and research, who have
-remarked the change which has come over the national literature
-in its rebound toward Saxon diction, and who have recommended it
-very distinctly. Dean Swift, though in point of time he preceded
-the movement, held as a principle that no Saxon word should be
-allowed to fall into disuse. Dean Hoare has, in our own time,
-expressed his decided conviction that those speakers and writers
-impart most pleasure whose style is most Saxon in its character;
-and this remark applies, as he believes, especially to poetry. It
-is in accordance with the spirit of the age that we recoil from
-that "fine writing" which is generally mere declamation.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_322">{322}</a></span>
-In proportion as we become practical, the racy style&mdash;pointed,
-suggestive, and curt&mdash;rises in value. By the exercise of thought
-and cultivation of science we become exact, and through plenty of
-business we become brief-spoken. Vague talking and writing is now
-at a discount, and persons express themselves with more substance
-and strength because they are trained in the love of truth,
-historic and scientific, and have contracted a hatred of shams of
-every kind. Directness of statement is what is now most valued in
-a writer, and such men as Dr. Newman among Catholics, and Carlyle
-and Emerson among non-Catholics, have contributed in an immense
-degree to promote reverence for this quality. Circumlocution and
-over-expansion are faults which no one will now tolerate, and
-this jealousy for the clear and ready conveyance of ideas has a
-great deal to do with recurrence to the pregnant monosyllables,
-the picture-words, the gnarled and knotted strength of Saxon
-English.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is, however, to Tennyson, more than to any other modern
-writer, that the public owes the more frequent use of short and
-sinewy words already known to most readers, and the enrichment of
-the language by the revival of many words which had become
-obsolete. Enoch Arden, though a poem consisting of two thousand
-lines, contains scarcely a word that is not of Saxon origin. It
-is, as far as language is concerned, simplicity almost in excess.
-Thus, to take but one example, it is not till we reach the last
-word of the following passage that we are reminded of the partly
-Latin origin of our tongue:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-      "For in truth
-  Enoch's white horse, and Enoch's ocean-spoil
-  In ocean-smelling osier, and his face,
-  Rough-reddened with a thousand winter-gales,
-  Not only to the market-cross were known,
-  But in the leafy lanes behind the down,
-  Far as the portal-warding lion-whelp,
-  And peacock-yewtree of the lonely hall,
-  Whose Friday fare was Enoch's ministering."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-In this passage all the words are in common use, but in other
-parts of the same volume, and, indeed, in all which the laureate
-has published, we perceive a strong tendency to antique and
-grotesque forms of speech, derived from long and devoted
-attachment to the old writers. If they were introduced by design,
-simply because they are archaisms, the artifice would be
-apparent, and the pedantry complete. But when they form a genuine
-part of the author's inner life of thought and memory, the case
-is different, and what would have been formal and stiff becomes
-natural and easy. They comport well with the idea one forms of a
-great thinker, and indicate a thorough mastery over the mother
-tongue. They might, no doubt, easily degenerate into affectation,
-but when employed with judgment and skill, they are like fossils
-in a well-arranged cabinet, or old china in a well-furnished
-room. Resembling, as they do, the tough, tortuous olive-tree,
-they are valuable signs of a people's mental vigor; for as surely
-as the "soft bastard Latin" of the Apennines indicates a
-population less martial than the Romans of old&mdash;as surely as the
-soft and sibilant Romaic tells of a race fallen from the higher
-walks of Grecian philosophy, history, science, and song&mdash;so
-surely would Latinized English be a sign that the people writing
-and speaking it, were falling away from the marked character of
-their forefathers, and contrasting with them as strongly as the
-silken senators whom Chatham denounced contrasted with the iron
-barons of the days of King John.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_323">{323}</a></span>
-<p>
-            <h2>Waiting.</h2>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  Flame, rosy tapers, flame!
-        Though flushing day
-  Is mounting into heaven, it cannot shame
-  The weakest rush-light burning in his name
-        Who soon will say,
-     "Peace to this house!" Consoling word,
-     Which patient ones have heard,
-        Then meekly sighed,
-  "Now let thy servant, Lord, depart in peace!"
-  And, granted swift release,
-        Next moment died.
-
-	Flame, rosy tapers, flame!
-	No garish day can shame
-     Your ruddy wax a-light in Jesus' name!
-
-  Close, giddy honeysuckles, clambering free,
-  Close your moist petals to the wandering bee.
-  That with your cloistered dews you may adore
-  My Lord, when he shall enter at the door.
-        O blossoming sweet-brier!
-  Now flushing like a seraph with desire
-        To do him homage, send abroad
-  Your aromatic breath, and thus entice,
-        With innocent device,
-  His quickening steps unto my poor abode.
-  Calm lilies for his tabernacle sealed,
-     O spicy hyacinths! now yield
-     Your odors to the waiting air
-        His welcome to prepare;
-	Nor fear that by my haste
-        Your perfumes you will waste;
-	For each expectant sigh
-     Is dearer, to the Holy One so nigh,
-     Than all your honeyed nectaries exhale.
-        Young rose and lilac pale,
-	And every flow'ret fair,
-	Incense the blissful air,
-	   And bid him, hail!
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_324">{324}</a></span>
-	      Flame, rosy tapers, flame!
-	      No garish day can shame
-     Your ruddy wax a-light in Jesus' name!
-        Sing, lark and linnet, sing
-	The graces of this King,
-	Who, in such meek array,
-	Will visit me to-day:
-  Young swallows, twittering at my cottage eaves,
-  Shy wrens, close-nested in the woodbine leaves,
-  Blithe robins, chirping on the open gate,
-  Upon his coming wait:
-  Glad oriole, swinging with the linden bough,
-  I do entreat you, now
-     With gushing throat
-     Repeat your most ecstatic note.
-        Afar I hear,
-        With instinct quick and clear,
-  His step who bears, enshrined upon his breast,
-  The God who soon within my own will rest.
-        Angelic choirs
-	Are touching their exultant lyres:
-  Sing, lark and linnet, sing,
-  And with your artless jubilations bring
-  Their joy to earth; and you, melodious thrush,
-  While my glad soul keeps hush,
-        Attune your song
-        My silent rapture to prolong.
-
-              Flame, rosy tapers, flame!
-	      No garish day can shame
-     Your ruddy wax a-light in Jesus' name!
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_325">{325}</a></span>
-<br>
-    <h3>From The Rivista Universale, Of Genoa.</h3>
-
-           <h2>The Supernatural.</h2>
-
-	   <h3>By Cesar Cantu.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-Petulant tyranny of science! It will not allow us to say that two
-and two are three; that there can be more than the sum of two
-right angles in a triangle; or that the radii of a circle are not
-equal. What arrogance thus to confine my liberty; to deny me
-leave to assert that there is an exact relation between the
-diameter and circumference of a circle; that the duplication of
-the cube is possible, the trisection of an angle, and perpetual
-motion! Why should not error have the same rights as truth?
-Reason is mistress of the world; unlimited mistress of herself.
-She can prove that yes is identical with no; that being and
-nothing are all one. Why tire ourselves with the science of
-ultimate reasons? We must regard the effects without ascending to
-the causes; we accept only what can be felt and seen. What is
-substance? What is cause? What are ideas? Let them pass; we hold
-only to phenomenon and effect.
-</p>
-<p>
-All would not dare to express these assertions with such
-boldness, and yet they are necessary inferences from the current
-sophisms and phrases of a science which stains its tyranny by
-petulance and bald negations. <i>Experience! Experience!</i> it
-cries daily, and proceeds to invent theories on the formation of
-the universe which will never meet the approval of experience; it
-repudiates every truth <i>a priori</i>, and yet establishes, <i>a
-priori</i>, that faith is contradictory to reason. In the name of
-free-will it demands the destruction of free-will; as if man were
-more free while seeking than after having found the truth; as if
-true liberty did not consist in willing what is right.
-</p>
-<p>
-And nowadays a multiform war is waged against ancient belief by a
-contracted and intolerant science, and a system of retrogressive
-and egotistical politics. Arguments and buffoonery, decrees and
-violences, alternate, not only against the priests, but against
-Christ. Some disfigure dogmas, and then throw them to the fishes,
-or abandon them to the anger of a mob dressed in black waistcoats
-or in red caps. Some resuscitate ancient errors under modern
-phraseology, or excite the demon of curiosity. Some, faithful to
-the system of defamation and intimidation, libel as clericals or
-obscurantists those Christians who loved liberty when it was not
-a mere speculation, if they are unwilling to believe that the
-Italy of the future must deny the Italy of the past, to become
-strong. One party in the name of authority attacks its chief
-source. Some drag into the lists a conventional nationality and
-an exclusive patriotism, against the universality of faith and
-charity, and hurt the partial reasons of a state against
-ecumenical reason. Some fight in the garb of doctors, striving to
-apply the methods of observation to what is super-sensible,
-confounding the proximate with the first cause, and thus arriving
-at scientific scepticism, positivism, which repudiates ideas, or
-at a criticism which considers generations as succeeding each
-other without a connecting law&mdash;by mere evolution&mdash;without
-seeking what absolute truth corresponds to the successive rise of
-nations, or clearing up the future by the past&mdash;that which is
-going to happen with what is permanent.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_326">{326}</a></span>
-And thus they whirl in a pantheism which either accepts no God
-but the human mind, or makes everything God except God himself;
-leaving him the splendor of his idea, the sovereignty of his
-name, but depriving him of the reality of his being and the
-consciousness of his life.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are others who, with frivolous argumentation, produce
-excellent pillows for doubt, and refuse to examine, contenting
-themselves with repeating the affirmations of the most accredited
-organs of the press. Let us pass over those who flatter the
-animal instincts of nature by writings and images which Sodom
-would condemn, and proclaim the divine reign of the flesh,
-saying, with Heine, "The desire of all our institutions is the
-rehabilitation of matter. Let us seek good in matter; let us
-found a democracy of terrestrial gods, equal in happiness and
-holiness; let us have nectar and ambrosia; let us desire garments
-of purple, delights of perfumes and dances, comedies and
-children."
-</p>
-<p>
-Hence comes the deplorable degradation of minds plunged not only
-in ignorance but in base adulations to slaves and to the slaves
-of slaves, to the rabble hailed by the people, to a debasement
-called progress, to a freedom which consists in robbing others of
-liberty.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                   II.
-</p>
-<p>
-In such a state of affairs, what ought a priest or Christian to
-do who reserves to himself the right of not calling evil things
-good? Grow low-spirited, reproach the century, grow timorous of
-science, groan like Jeremias over the woe of Jerusalem, and await
-the rock which is to crush the clay-footed colossus? It looks
-like compelling Providence, when we refuse to co-operate with it
-in the conflict between good and evil, unless on conditions which
-suit our little egotism, or please our frivolous vanity. The
-timid compromise their character with strange conventions between
-truth and error, by shameful oscillation between liberty and
-despotism, resigning themselves to tyranny as a hypocrite may act
-toward an atheist.
-</p>
-<p>
-Christ came to carry the sword, and the time has come when he who
-has one should draw and brandish it. Certainly, God will save his
-church. He alone will have the glory, but will man have the merit
-of it? Where silence is, there is death; and, outside of what
-directly touches revealed truth, discussion is useful, even when
-held with those who err; it teaches us, at least, how we are not
-to act or think, if nothing else.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some say, "It is enough to preach morality. What have rigorous
-truths to do with good sentiments? the aspirations of the heart
-with the deductions of cold reason?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Superficial questions! As if one should say, "What has the soul
-to do with the soul?" Do not ethics depend on dogma? do not our
-actions follow from metaphysical conditions? Every doctrine
-becomes an element of life or a principle of death for the soul.
-A sophist may, indeed, boast of a new code of ethics, or a new
-law; as if truth could be contingent and relative as well as
-universal, eternal, necessary, and, as such, not produced by man,
-who is mortal and limited. International associations, conspiring
-to assassinate Christian civilization, will soon respond with
-consequent acts to such inconsequences of literature.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_327">{327}</a></span>
-<p>
-When the system of attack is changed, we must change the system
-of defence. Preaching can no longer be confined to mere prones,
-or exhortations to the good and inculcating the <i>fides
-carbonaria</i>; [Footnote 66] but we must gird on the sword of
-science and eloquence, and attack resolutely those who assail us
-resolutely. Truth can be saved only by victory; and in this case,
-as in war, <i>the best defence is an attack</i>.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 66: The faith of the coal-heaver who believes
-    without science.]
-</p>
-<p>
-If errors fortify themselves in the newspapers, and come on in
-serried ranks, protected by gazettes, decrees, arts, and
-sciences, we must meet them with the same means, humble them with
-the truths rejected or distorted by the sophists, turn their own
-weapons against them; for error, which is a stumbling-block for
-the incautious, may become a ladder for the wise to ascend
-higher. Nowadays, when all the arguments of unbelief are allied
-in an invisible church which has fraternities, missionaries,
-sacrifices, and even martyrs, to assault the visible church in
-the name of progress, enlightenment, morality, reason, and the
-future, we must draw out all the reasons of belief in opposition.
-The manifestation of truth, even though it may not destroy error,
-weakens its power. It is not enough to show that our adversaries
-are wrong; we must be right ourselves. Let us not allow men to
-think that there are truths incompatible with faith, or outside
-of its dogmas; but that, notwithstanding exaggerations,
-absurdities, erroneous and culpable notions, those truths obtain
-from faith all their reality, vitality, and durability; and that
-he who looks well will see that every incontestable and positive
-progress comes from the organization of Christian society.
-</p>
-<p>
-In this labor, can reason ask the aid of revelation? And why not?
-The rationalists might complain if we attempted to overwhelm the
-question with the weight of revealed authority; but when
-revelation is united to reason, the power of the latter is
-doubled. Mysteries are above reason, not contrary to it. Faith is
-only the most sublime effort of reason, which is persuaded to
-believe by arguments, convinced of its impotence without faith,
-as well as of its greatness with faith. Faith is a grace, because
-it is not sensible certainty. It springs from the desire of a
-pure heart and of a right mind that the harmonious structure of
-revelation should be true. Reason by itself cannot obtain the
-knowledge of a mystery, any more than it can comprehend a mystery
-when revelation makes it known. Reason, however, understands that
-a mystery is above it, but not opposed to it; and recognizes the
-necessity of the supernatural to explain even the mysteries of
-nature. In like manner, though we cannot look at the sun, yet by
-its light we see all things.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some, seeing our adversaries use the sciences and politics
-against religion, work with the arts, speak with ability, begin
-to vituperate civilization, attack its acts and writings, deplore
-the times, deny the stupendous progress of the age&mdash;the fruit of
-so much study, fatigue, and genius.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is not only an evil; it is a danger. Instead of repudiating
-natural truths, we must seek to reconcile them with the
-super-sensible, show ourselves just toward what is new, use it to
-rejuvenate the decrepit, and apply it to the branches which have
-lost vitality. The time will never come when all objections will
-be conquered. They will always arise with new forms and new
-phases.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_328">{328}</a></span>
-Great thinkers give the word of command for new revolts against
-truth; it is therefore necessary for great theologians to combat
-them. Every Catholic is not fit to enter the list as a champion,
-but every Catholic ought to know why faith is necessary in
-general, and what he ought to believe in particular. The least
-that can be expected of him is not to be less ignorant than the
-curious, the learned, and the railers who, on every side, pick up
-arguments for not believing. And how few know their religion, not
-only among the common people, but even among the educated
-classes! The fault lies in the fact that, while we Catholics are
-so superior to our adversaries, we do not know how to use our
-advantage, because we know not in what this superiority consists.
-Otherwise, every educated person would find by himself as many
-new, ingenious, and brilliant proofs to defend the religion of
-his ancestors as others invent to destroy it&mdash;original, personal
-proofs, as light, perhaps, as the objections, but sufficient for
-the discussion of circles, to answer presumptuous contempt, false
-ideas, and false principles, which are published in seductive
-garb, with specious propositions, audacious negations, and
-intrepid affirmations, [Footnote 67] and which penetrate into
-politics, science, art, repugnant not only to logic, but even to
-the instincts of common sense.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 67: See a golden work of the Princess Wittgenstein
-    Iwanowska, <i>Simplicité des Colombes, Prudence des
-    Serpents</i>, where she refutes the most common objections,
-    and exhorts especially ladies to prudence and simplicity in
-    controversy and conduct.]
-</p>
-<p>
-But, moreover, who does not feel the deficiency in scientific and
-really practical education in that science which satisfies the
-reason, the heart, and faith.
-</p>
-<p>
-The religious element should form a great part in education, and
-it would suffice to change the tone of controversy, from being
-sour, contemptuous, diffident, discourteous, provoking, and
-partial, the result of the usual impoliteness of journalists, to
-a courageous yet prudent, conscientious as well as learned,
-indulgent yet immovable, method; abandoning a phraseology which
-did not formerly shock men's feelings, those sarcasms which
-neither heal nor console, and remembering that our adversaries
-are probably men of high intelligence, in error precisely on this
-account; perhaps persons of right mind, unimpeachable morals, and
-even of delicate sensibility.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is the arena of <i>conférences</i>. Fraysinnous began the
-work of uniting religion with science in the pulpit. Those of
-Wiseman did better at Rome. Then arose the famous names of
-Lacordaire, Ravignan, and now of Fathers Felix and Hyacinthe,
-[Footnote 68] and in Italy, Fathers Maggio, Fabri, Rossi,
-Giordano, and others. Among these must be named Alimonda, provost
-of the cathedral of Genoa, who gave a course of lectures, all
-depending on one proposition, and has just published them in four
-volumes, with the title <i>Man under the Law of the
-Supernatural</i>. Genoa, 1868.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 68: At this time Father Hyacinthe is treating of
-    "The Church under her most general aspect," in Notre Dame, at
-    Paris. He treats of the providence of God.]
-</p>
-<p>
-But four volumes cost more than a box of cigars! How much time it
-takes to read them! some will exclaim who have, perhaps, read
-<i>Les Miserables</i> of Hugo, or <i>La Stella d'Italia;</i> have
-a copy of Thiers; subscribe for four or five magazines, and who
-require a hundred or a hundred and fifty pages to be printed on a
-question of finance or railroads, but find that number too great
-where the discussion is about man's being, or his power of
-working, on the essence of God, the immortality of the soul, the
-necessity of virtue, and the necessity of religion to create it,
-the divinity of Christianity, or belief in its dogmas.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_329">{329}</a></span>
-<p>
-But those who do not merely aspire to cloud the human intellect,
-and repress sublime desires under the weight of self-interest,
-passion, and the tyranny of prejudice, and who exclaim, with
-Linnaeus, <i>"Oh! quam contemta res est homo nisi super humana se
-erexerit,"</i> [Footnote 69] know that to follow great ideas
-becomes a nobler habit, as trivialities become common; and that
-essential truths, which are never out of place or time, are based
-on the same systematic method which seemed to deny them entirely.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 69: "Oh! how contemptible a thing is man if he
-    cannot arise above what is human!"]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  III.
-</p>
-<p>
-Scientific atheism asserts that "common sense is the test of
-belief in the supernatural," and that the greatness of every
-religious conception referable to this standard is
-counterbalanced by the greatness of scientific conceptions on
-nature and the universe. Whoever, then, does not belong to the
-party of those who presume to differ with the atheist, can easily
-perceive how unacceptable a treatise on the supernatural must be;
-since Alimonda began by demonstrating that it is true, and
-credible; and that it imports us not only in the next life but
-even in this to believe it. To desire to invent a mechanical
-theory of the universe, a material origin of human intelligence
-and liberty, originates the anarchical conception of giving the
-explanation of the cosmological whole by means of every special
-science. Büchner and Vogt modified the Cartesian ideas by
-teaching "that there is no force without matter, no matter
-without force; that matter thinks as well as moves; and that all
-things are but dynamic transformations of matter." Hence comes
-intelligent electricity, cogitating phosphorus; and Moleschott
-was invited to teach in our universities that "thought is a
-motion of cerebral matter, and conscience a material property."
-Rognero taught that "conscience dwells in the circulatory
-system." These doctrines have been preached in every
-revolutionary tavern with all that personal exaggeration which we
-always find in those who retail second-hand dogmas.
-</p>
-<p>
-Well! granted these hypotheses, we still ask, What is this force?
-What is this primary motion? Where is the mover? Would an
-activity anterior to existence have ever created itself imperfect
-and subject to evil? Can the relation of necessary succession be
-confounded with the relation of causality? Does the metaphysical
-conception of cause remain indistinct from the conditions of
-existence? If the order of ideas be distinguished from the order
-of facts, everything leads us to a first cause, to the most real
-of realities, to the will of a supreme artificer which determined
-inert matter to motion rather than to rest.
-</p>
-<p>
-If, then, this motion endures with fixed laws; if, in so great a
-diversity of infinite bodies, I recognize a system according to
-which no one interferes with the other, but all agree in a
-supreme harmony of mode; if, for instance, the destruction of one
-of the celestial bodies would discompose the marvellous structure
-of the universe; if from the alteration of the orbit of a planet
-the man of science can conclude the existence of another,
-thousands of miles distant, it is not the holy fathers but
-Voltaire who will exclaim, "If the clock exists, there must
-necessarily be a clock-maker." It is impossible to kill a moral
-being, a universal sentiment, by arms, or books, or declamations.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_330">{330}</a></span>
-<p>
-The Deity does not offer himself to sensation, observation, or
-experience; hence the sensists and perceptionists see in him but
-a hypothesis, and reject all theology and all metaphysics. They
-abuse the method of observation by applying it to what is not
-observable. No object of experiment can be God; nor can any
-perception reach him in this world, since he can only manifest
-himself to us ideally; that is to say, by the reflection of
-thought on itself, under the pure form of an idea; and an idea
-necessarily supposes an existence. Reason must come to God
-through the medium of the idea of God: whence an illustrious
-writer defending religious philosophy adopted the appropriate
-title of "IDEA OF GOD."
-</p>
-<p>
-Nowadays, when the series of generations are brought to laugh and
-dance at the funeral of God and the evaporation of Christ, it is
-not superfluous to accumulate psychological and social proofs on
-the existence of a first necessary Cause, on its reality, and on
-its divine life reverberating in the great labor of creation; on
-those laws of phenomena which others call the ideas of nature,
-and we call the Creator. The word must be personified, and
-substantiated to express something real.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among these laws I have always found that those regarding the
-origin of language had great influence on me and are of great
-help against the atheists. The more we study, the more we are
-convinced that the languages have a common source. How did man
-ever discover that ideas could be represented with sounds, or
-real thought by the medium of words, and then invent symbolical,
-phonetic, or alphabetic signs to represent both ideas and sounds?
-Or is the word only the means of expressing our thoughts, or the
-essential form of them, the indispensable condition necessary to
-our having them? Can sensation draw anything out of a word but a
-material sound? How is it that all the human races&mdash;Iranic,
-Semitic, Gallic, or Black&mdash;speak, and only men speak? How is it
-that although there is a common element in all languages, yet
-such diversity exists among certain groups? The more we study
-this indispensable complement of creation, this condition of our
-intellectual development, the more we are led to confess that
-there are mysteries in the human word as well as in the divine
-word; and all this reveals the name of God.
-</p>
-<p>
-When we have proved the reality, we must investigate the essence
-of God. And here we meet the mystery of unity and trinity, which,
-considered in itself, explains being; considered outside of
-itself, explains beings. Because, if we repudiate a supernatural
-God, we must substitute another in his place&mdash;a being of reason
-and abstraction, or a material god, or a god of pleasure. But
-these insane hypotheses must be made to explain the existence of
-the universe. They are either the eternity of matter or
-emanatism. Life put into matter we know not how; born, we know
-not how, we have spontaneous productions, or transformations of
-species, as Lamarck and Darwin maintain; but the learned show
-that these theories are impossible both as to soul and body. And
-then no one of these naturalists explains the end of man, nor his
-most precious gift&mdash;liberty.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_331">{331}</a></span>
-<p>
-The God of the Bible alone contains the true explanation of man
-and the universe. He who, spontaneously putting his omnipotence
-into activity without material elements, drew the world out of
-nothing; and this because he is good, and wills the good and the
-beautiful.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  IV.
-</p>
-<p>
-The most prodigious part of creation is man, destined for
-eternity; nor could there be in him a tendency without a scope,
-an end without a means, nor a merit without a recompense. The
-world is for his use, but he must not forget that eternity is his
-destiny. For the purpose of proving the material origin of the
-human intellect philosophers reject all who would give to life a
-distinct principle, isolated from organism, supposing that life,
-at least in its rudimental form, could spring from the bosom of
-organic liquids. Virchow praised the little cell, the only one of
-the anatomic elements which Milne-Edwards called organical, and
-which is a nucleus of various forms, surrounded by a protoplasm
-of organic matter without figure. From the cell are formed the
-embryos, which gradually become perfect and form animals, until
-the ape changes into man.
-</p>
-<p>
-Finally, on interrogating life in its unity, in its harmonies, in
-its cause and end, in its full and substantial reality, we find
-that it does not contain in itself a causal unity which is
-sufficient for it; and the great modern physiologist Bernard
-says: "The problem of physiology does not consist in pointing out
-the physico-chemical laws which living beings have in common with
-inorganic bodies, but in discovering the vital laws which
-characterize them." By studying mental diseases, and perceiving
-that atrophy of a certain part of the brain will cause the loss
-of certain faculties, and that the injection of oxygenated blood
-will reawaken them, and with similar experiments, it has been
-attempted to prove the materiality of cogitation, and to show
-that the soul is a chimera. These are irrational materialistic
-interpretations of physiological facts, for the cause of the fact
-is confounded with the conditions of the phenomenon.
-</p>
-<p>
-This same Virchow, who seemed to have discovered such a powerful
-argument against spiritualism in his theory of the cell, cannot
-explain with physics and optics alone the phenomena of vision;
-becomes confounded before the mystery of life, and declares:
-"Nothing is like life, but life itself. Nature is twofold.
-Organic nature is entirely distinct from inorganic. Although
-formed by the same substance, from atoms of the same nature,
-organic matter offers us a continued series of phenomena which
-differ in their nature from the inorganic world. Not because the
-latter represents dead nature&mdash;for nothing dies but what has
-lived; even inorganic nature possesses its activity, its
-eternally active labor&mdash;but this activity is not life except in a
-figurative sense." [Footnote 70]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 70: "The Atom and the Individual," a discourse
-    pronounced at Berlin in 1866.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We do not think it superfluous to oppose these reflections, added
-to those of Alimonda, to the negations of the materialists, which
-have weight only because they have been often repeated; and we
-conclude with Alimonda that man is an inexplicable mystery if we
-do not accept the other mystery of original sin. Hence the
-conflict between reason and the passions; the inclination to evil
-and bloodthirstiness; the necessity of wars and prisons.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_332">{332}</a></span>
-If we admit the intrinsic goodness of man, there is no guilt and
-there can be no chastisement; society can institute no tribunals,
-but only hospitals to cure diseases. This has been said in our
-age; and common sense rejected it. The primitive fall and
-successive activity show how man progresses indefinitely,
-according to nature, not according to socialistic utopias. This
-explains the inequality of the faculties and of labor, and hence
-of goods, of property, which otherwise would be a theft.
-</p>
-<p>
-The whole of ancient society attests this degradation; but a
-Redeemer was promised; he was confusedly expected by all nations;
-he was clearly predicted by the prophets of Judea, in order to
-console mankind, that they might believe in him to come, hope in
-him, and love him by anticipation.
-</p>
-<p>
-These promises, and the figures which personified them, are
-deposited in the Bible; that divine history which clears up the
-origin of humanity and the changes of civilization, and whose
-witnesses, though apparently contradictory, only make the thesis
-and the antithesis of a great synthesis, interpreted by an
-infallible authority. The unity of the human species asserted in
-that book has been proved by the sciences, even by paleontology,
-which some pretended to arm against the biblical affirmations;
-and while the frivolity of the last century thought it had
-mockingly dissipated truth, we have scientific progress proving
-the Bible to be wonderfully in accord with the least expected
-discoveries.
-</p>
-<p>
-The continual intervention of Providence in the Bible is
-repugnant to human pride, which would be the centre and creator
-of all events; yet this providence it is which satisfies, at the
-same time, the wants of the human heart, gives a legal
-constitution to society, a sanction to human acts, without which
-we should only have cutthroats and the gallows.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  V.
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus far we nave presented man in relation to God; let us
-consider man in relation to Jesus Christ, a theme by far more
-important, as we can say with the psalmist: "<i>Convenerunt in
-unum adversus Dominum et adversus Christum ejus.</i>" [Footnote
-71] In this most corrupt world reparation was expected from
-humanity, but who could fulfil it but the incarnate Word? Greater
-than all the great ones of the earth, he established his
-providential kingdom, making it the social centre of men and
-centuries.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 71: "They assembled together against the Lord and
-    his Christ."]
-</p>
-<p>
-Our first parents aspired to become gods, and their pride was
-transmitted to their posterity; but behold how God really unites
-himself to man!
-</p>
-<p>
-Men felt a secret want of expiation, expressed by their
-sacrifices and mortifications; and Christ satisfied their desire
-by uniting in himself the two natures, and by fecundating with
-holy merits the sufferings of individuals and of nations.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet men wish to make a myth of him! And after the encyclopaedists
-have derided him, now they hypocritically try to crown him with
-human greatness and beauty, to rob him of his divinity! But how
-can you explain his influence on the most cultivated nations,
-lasting so many centuries, and through an incessant war from
-Simon Magus to Renan? Is not his immeasurable influence over the
-human race divine? With the light of his doctrine he created the
-life of intelligence and of conscience. His is no hidden and
-recondite word, but common and popular; not methodized into a
-philosophical system, equipped with proofs; not even robed in
-eloquence.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_333">{333}</a></span>
-His scope is not to invent, but to <i>reveal</i>&mdash;that is, lift
-the veil which covered primitive truths, and excite to good. He
-is virtue personified, the model of men, with grace through which
-charity triumphs over egotism&mdash;<i>grace</i>, the most profound
-and most beautiful word in the dictionary of religion. But here
-human pride rebels, because Christ taught mysteries.
-</p>
-<p>
-What, then, are mysteries but our ignorance, and the
-insufficiency of our reason? Thus the vulgar believe that the sun
-goes around the earth because the senses show it; thus a silly
-man would deny the existence of the imponderable fluids because
-he does not see or touch them, although he feels their effects.
-Three temples rise in the world: of nature, of reason, and of
-religion; and in all there are mysteries. There are mysteries in
-space, atoms, divisibility, forces, life, thought, the cell,
-sensation, idea, limits: in everything under the form which
-passes away there is a mystery which remains. If a miracle is
-humanly conceivable, it ought to be divinely possible.
-</p>
-<p>
-If you exclude the idea of the supernatural, nothing is left but
-nature, with the character of necessity which reason denies it;
-with a series of monstrous and gratuitous affirmations which
-constitute pantheism.
-</p>
-<p>
-But some will say, "Yes, there is a God distinct from nature; he
-is self-conscious and free, but he is immutable: while the
-supernatural represents him as changeable and arbitrary."
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus reason those who, led by anthropomorphic illusions, subject
-the action of God to succession. The acts of man, who is
-ephemeral and localized, are necessarily successive; and because
-the results of divine activity are manifested to our eyes in time
-and space, they seem new and wonderful. But God is not limited by
-time or space; his act is one, eternal, immanent like his will;
-everything which proceeds from that act is the act itself, one,
-eternal, and immanent, and thus the differences between the
-natural and supernatural disappear.
-</p>
-<p>
-To defend the idea of the supernatural is not, therefore, to
-attack science or smother intelligence; but to defend the idea of
-God, who is the hinge of all science. This, indeed, banishes the
-supernatural from its domain; but if every reality is not
-reducible to nature, it is impossible not to admit a higher
-principle of the laws which nature reveals, and of which nature
-is not the necessary principle. Christianity pronounces nothing
-on the science of nature, except that the supernatural is above
-natural laws; that there is a God, as St. Augustine says,
-"<i>pater luminum et evigilationis nostrae</i>." [Footnote 72] Is
-this a mystery? But is not everything which exists an
-incomprehensible manifestation of the supernatural? Is not the
-free-will of man an incomprehensible mystery?
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 72: "The Father of lights and of our awaking."]
-</p>
-<p>
-But revealed mysteries, much more than dry theorems which
-restrain reason, are fruitful in meditation, humility, gratitude,
-and aspiration after a life of bliss: they are light to the
-intellect, motives for virtue; all have a comprehensible side;
-they have their wherefore; and this is sufficient for the
-happiness of individuals, and works efficaciously on the whole of
-society.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_334">{334}</a></span>
-<p>
-Miracles, which are extraordinary to man, are natural to God, and
-he uses them to manifest Christ the Redeemer. But the diminishers
-of great things wish to make Christ a mountebank, or a magician
-working by natural means like the mesmerizers, in whom they
-believe rather than in Christ. They deny Christ and offer incense
-to Hegel, who said that "<i>the universe</i> is a simple
-negation." Every religious, moral, or political doctrine must
-stand the test of actualization: the idea must be realized; the
-thought must become life; and the result is the criterion. But
-the greatest miracle of Jesus Christ was the establishment of the
-new kingdom of grace on the ruins of the kingdom of the world; to
-substitute the eternal edifice of the church for corrupt
-institutions; instead of proud science, to put the holy word of
-the apostolate; charity, generous even to martyrdom, in the place
-of brute force. Martyrdom! this is another word which shocks the
-free-thinkers who retail cheap heroes, and deafen us with hymns
-to the martyrs of fatherland, ennobling with this title assassins
-on the scaffold. Christ is a martyr for humanity; he is a God of
-order, wisdom, and charity.
-</p>
-<p>
-But here they stop us again, and pretend that he aimed at an
-impossible perfection, and was a utopist; and as such, they
-reject him, although they are admirers of such dreamers as More
-or Giordano Bruno, Fourier or Saint-Simon.
-</p>
-<p>
-But is it true that Christ's doctrine cannot be realized? There
-are precepts and counsels in it; and you, by confounding them,
-condemn Christianity, as if it commanded all to observe what is
-counselled only to a few exceptional existences called by God. To
-observe the counsels special virtue is required, and those monks
-who deserved so well even of society practised them. Rather than
-deride and destroy them, they diffused the evangelical counsels
-which they practised in their own lives&mdash;obedience, abstinence,
-purity; those virtues which would give that <i>facilitas
-imperii</i>&mdash;that self-control&mdash;which is so hard to keep; that
-virtue which is the order of love. Those monks peopled the
-Thebaid, lived in the poverty of St. Francis, in the austerities
-of St. Bruno, awaited death in caverns, and ate only herbs;
-others fled the world to pray for it, but the church never gave
-them pharisaical faces; life, soul, talents, imagination
-characterized them; the happiness of their existence was
-increased by the blessing of the church; feasts, music, and
-sacred rites abounded; social, domestic, and scientific life were
-nourished by Christian virtue and education; patriotism had its
-hymns if fortunate; audits, litanies, if unsuccessful; art and
-poetry became incorporated with worship; admiration for natural
-beauties was aroused; activity and prudence stimulated and
-eulogized, progress approved, and civilization encouraged.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet the rationalists would give the glory of this civil society
-of which we boast to man alone, while it is in fact the work of
-the supernatural gospel. In this we find light, virtue, harmony;
-that is, power, subjection, and agreement. The gospel establishes
-a respected and vigilant authority in face of a policy which
-traffics in opinions. Kings are bound by the same morality as the
-least subjects. Rulers swear to observe the law of God; that is,
-never to become tyrants. Power is exercised after the example set
-by God; and the head of the state is the first-born among
-brothers. Subjects are children who obey not <i>propter timorem
-sed propter conscientiam</i>&mdash;not from fear but for conscience'
-sake; an obedience to God rather than to men. Christianity
-asserted the true doctrine of equal rights with inequality of
-rank when it proclaimed that we are all brothers; it broke the
-chains of the slave; abolished hereditary enmity between nations,
-and all superiority save that of merit.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_335">{335}</a></span>
-<p>
-To deny that these advantages are derived from Christianity would
-now be stupidity; but they say that while it formerly worked
-wonders, there is no longer any necessity for religion, the
-priest, or Christ: morality has become acclimated; necessary
-truths are acquired; and so man can progress with laws,
-tradition, and social organization.
-</p>
-<p>
-Those who speak in this way do not comprehend the connection
-between metaphysical and practical truth; do not realize that the
-most common maxims which we drink in with our mother's milk would
-become gradually obscured by separation from their source; as the
-necessary sanction would be wanting to them.
-</p>
-<p>
-Between the merely honest man and the Christian, there will
-always be the difference which exists between the bird that can
-only hop and the full-fledged bird which flies. Let us suppose,
-even, that the learned of the future will govern themselves
-better than the philosophers of antiquity; still it is only
-religion that can say to the multitude, "Hope always and never
-obtain." If there is no heaven, if gold and pleasure are the only
-aspirations, why not enjoy them? Let a revolutionist arise and
-promise them, he will obtain a hearing much more readily than the
-philosopher who can promise only a doubtful eternity. But then
-what will become of society? If you preach resignation to the
-poor without giving them hope, will not hope arise without
-resignation?
-</p>
-<p>
-It was the gospel which humanly unfettered the child, woman, and
-the poor. By it alone were exposed children and orphans gathered
-together; it founded hospitals and pious retreats for every
-disease of the body and mind. Vincent of Paul, Girolamo Miani,
-Calasanctius, and a host of others never ceased in the church;
-and even the world blesses their name, blesses their work, that
-of the holy infancy, and that for the education of Chinese
-children, and for the redemption of captives among the Moors.
-Entire religious congregations have been founded to save children
-from death, from penury, and from ignorance; so that at the
-destruction of these religious orders, we ought to say, as Christ
-to the mothers of Jerusalem, "Weep not over me, but over your
-children." We should weep the more when we see their intellects
-and souls entrusted to state officials who fashion them to suit
-their masters.
-</p>
-<p>
-And woman? From what base degradation and turpitude has she been
-raised by Christianity. But the state law wills that she should
-be thus addressed: "Thou hast been brought up to purity; to avoid
-every impure act and look; but henceforth I, the mayor, command
-thee to give thyself up to the man whom I, the mayor, designate
-as thy husband." On the other hand, the socialists wish to take
-her out of the domestic sanctuary to take part in business, in
-government, in war; she must become a woman of letters, a
-politician and a heroine. Ah! the heroism of woman consists in
-fulfilling her domestic duties, in the apostleship of doing good;
-let her have the heroism of faith and virtue, and she will save
-the world, as she helped so much to do in the person of Mary over
-eighteen centuries ago.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of God," said
-Christ; and his chief followers took care of the poor, instructed
-them, supplied their wants with alms; made them noble with
-blessings; and, since it is necessary to suffer, the poor were
-taught to bear their ills with the hope of immortal recompense.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_336">{336}</a></span>
-But the strong-minded of this age fiercely scream about the
-rights of the poor; and yet rob spontaneous and virtuous charity
-of the means of supplying the wants of the poor. The necessity of
-official aid is created, and thus pride and rancor against the
-rich are excited, while suffering remains without consolation.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  VI.
-</p>
-<p>
-All these points have their objections and suitable answer well
-developed in our orator's work. Alimonda examines man in relation
-to the church and shows how human reason, while it strives to
-rebel against her, is obliged to bless her, even by the mouth of
-her most determined enemies, as happened to the prophet Balaam.
-This church was not established by the power of man or by
-progressive development; she was born beautiful and perfect, the
-same in the upper room at Jerusalem as in the Council of Trent;
-she underwent every species of hostility, violent and puerile, of
-kings and people, of rogues and editors, and yet always remained
-whole and alive.
-</p>
-<p>
-While human institutions regulate man, the church aspires to the
-government of souls. Although she aimed at so much, she was
-listened to; she defined what good meant; restricted authority;
-gave the law of work; and was believed. Even the ancient churches
-by their very nature were spiritual societies; but they exercised
-no influence on consciences, little on men's conduct, less even
-than the schools of philosophy. Later heresies and schisms could
-not spread or establish themselves, except by force and war, or
-by allowing every one to be the judge of his own conscience and
-reason; that is, heresy did not pretend to direct souls. Our
-church has a perfect and unchangeable order for the government of
-conscience, an order which does not vary according to opinion.
-The latter will say with Thierry that the conquered are always
-right; with Cousin and Thiers, that it is the conqueror who is is
-always right. Which is one to believe? It will be said that the
-voice of the people is the voice of God, and that common sense
-ought to be the rule of our actions. Well, suppose it is; how can
-we interrogate it? Where is its decision? Where its organ? They
-will tell us to-day it is "universal suffrage." We shall not
-dwell on such nonsense: we merely inquire, must I ask its advice
-in reference to my private actions? I need for these safe, well
-expressed, and efficacious principles.
-</p>
-<p>
-The church answers every question; and her answers are always the
-most generous, the most human, and the most kind to the weak. She
-has a mixed government&mdash;monarchical, aristocratic, and
-democratic; her aristocrats are poor fishermen. By this she is
-the type of modern governments which have the representative
-system. Rationalism wants to substitute revolution for this;
-takes away from the people the good conditions peculiar to them,
-acquired by them, legitimate and independent of governments; and
-makes atheism the lever with which to subvert politics. The
-apostles of rationalism adore liberty, provided they are her
-priests and sacrificators; create a new author of
-civilization&mdash;the rabble; oblige kings to divide their authority
-with the mob; the mob upsets its creatures; kings run away; good
-men hide; the owners of property, menaced by the dogma of
-plebeian avidity, oppose the bayonet to the knife of the rabble
-until these are overcome.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_337">{337}</a></span>
-<p>
-Precisely because the temporal mission of the church is great as
-the mistress and legislator of nations, precisely because she is
-authority, the impotent violently, and the powerful foolishly,
-attack her at a time when men want rights without duties, the
-husband as well as the citizen, the laborer as well as the
-legislator.
-</p>
-<p>
-The church alone has saints; she is universal, perpetual,
-irreformable: characters which manifest her divine origin and
-divine actuation.
-</p>
-<p>
-This divinity of the church is found in Catholicism, not in
-Protestantism. Catholicity alone has positive unity of faith,
-love, civilization; that is, light, sacrifice, virtue, which
-Protestantism lacks. All history and statistics, not
-systematically false or officially disfigured, which looks
-further than merely a few years, show that civilization does not
-progress so well with Protestantism. The Catholic Church had
-conquered the world and formed modern civilization before the
-unity of faith and charity was broken; and she would have done
-more had there been no rupture; and had not the religious wars
-impeded her power, menaced Europe with a new barbarism, subjected
-it again to the scourge of armies and conquests, which prevent us
-even yet from considering our age superior to the most deplorable
-of past centuries.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  VII.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Catholic Church established her primacy in Rome by three
-miracles, by conquering Rome when she was mistress of the whole
-world; by using Rome, her language, civilization, and
-legislation, to defend Christianity; and by perpetuating the
-primacy in Rome. Everything that exists has a reason for
-existence; resurrection is a proof of divinity. Christian Rome,
-though often driven to agony, has always revived. Exiled kings
-die in banishment, abandoned and despised; this is a daily
-spectacle to our age; the popes become more glorious with
-persecution; a pope in exile at Avignon or in a prison at Savona
-is as powerful as in the Quirinal palace. If the most powerful
-emperor, the most iron will of our century, like the acrobat who
-kicks away the ladder after using it to ascend, robbed the pope
-who assisted him to rise, insulted and imprisoned him, all
-Europe&mdash;Catholic, Protestant, and schismatic&mdash;took arms to
-restore the pontiff. Thrones crumble, dynasties disappear; but
-the old man always returns to his seat, from Avignon or Salerno,
-from Fontainebleau or from Gaeta.
-</p>
-<p>
-Modern servility may grow indignant to see Henry V. at the feet
-of Gregory VII.; but it could not see Pius VI. kiss the hand of
-emperors, as Voltaire did with Catharine or with Frederic of
-Prussia; in vain will it hope to see Pius IX. at the feet of
-diplomatists or demagogues; but he will say with St. Augustine,
-<i>Leo victus est saeviendo; Agnus vicit patiendo</i>. [Footnote
-73]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 73: The lion was conquered by fury; the lamb
-    triumphed by suffering.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The church lives immortal, neither in nor above but with the
-state. Her relation with the state may be either of protection,
-limitation, or separation. Protected as in the beginning and as
-she was often under the ancient kings, the church would not be
-degraded. She had her autonomy in her laws, ordinances, and
-hierarchy; she was, not the slave or the flatterer of the power
-under which she lived.
-</p>
-<p>
-She does not seek limitation or restrictions, but supports them
-without changing her nature. By degrees, as kings prevailed in
-modern society, and abridged the power of the people, of the
-lords and corporations, they became jealous of the authority of
-the church, restricted her action and obstructed her freedom.
-Powerful in armies, money, and slaves, kings imposed on the
-church; she became resigned, sacrificed some minor points in
-order to guard the chief ones in tact; but notwithstanding all
-the chains of concordats, she remained sovereign in her freedom.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_338">{338}</a></span>
-<p>
-Separation from the state is like the separation between soul and
-body; hence the church is opposed to a state that is unchristian.
-</p>
-<p>
-The church, destined to illuminate the world with her divine
-light, and not to govern it politically, is by nature
-conservative. She was so even when the Roman emperors oppressed
-her; when they went away from Rome, she respected them at
-Constantinople, until she found it necessary for her defence and
-for the cause of national freedom to withdraw herself and Italy
-from imperial control. When she absolved nations from their oaths
-of allegiance, it was in the name of morality, and not of a
-political or social idea; to preserve for God what belongs to
-him, and not to deny to Cesar what belongs to him. [Footnote 74]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 74: By the recent work, <i>Religious and Civil
-    History of the Popes</i>, of Wm. Audisio, published at Rome
-    in 1868, many precious facts have been recalled to my mind.
-    One is that Gregory XVI., while Portugal was divided between
-    Don Pedro and Don Miguel, tried to settle the dispute by
-    recalling the ecclesiastical tradition, to render civil
-    obedience to him who governs in fact: <i>Qui actu ibidem
-    summa rerum potiatur</i>. In this he wished to settle the
-    dispute between the contending parties; for the church seeks
-    <i>qua Christi sunt, qua, ad spiritualem aeternamque
-    populorum felicitatem facilius conducant</i>, ("those things
-    which are of Christ, which conduce to the spiritual and
-    eternal happiness of peoples.") The other in which Pius VII.,
-    in the consistory of July 28th, 1817, authorized the oath of
-    allegiance to be taken to the constitution and laws, because
-    this oath did not oblige in reference to laws which kings
-    might make in spiritual matters; laws which are null of
-    themselves, for kings have no right to make them. This
-    decision regarding France was repeated October 2d, 1818, in
-    regard to Bavaria.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus although we may find no constitution which abolishes
-slavery, no one will deny that it ceased through the influence of
-Christianity, which modified customs and habits, and these
-influenced the laws. Thus the time will come when all that is
-good in modern society will be assured to it; and then the
-influence of Christianity will be made manifest in purifying and
-consecrating all that came from its teachings, or from needs
-which it caused to be felt; so that the so-called liberals will
-see that it is not necessary to attack Christianity in order to
-defend the acquisitions of their age, nor will the faithful
-attack the age as an irreconcilable enemy. Does not everything
-happen by the will or permission of God? Are not all political
-changes and social transformations providential facts? If the
-Christian cannot praise them, he becomes resigned to them; he
-does not increase the evil by anger; he trusts in God, who can
-change the stones into children of Abraham; and we, separating
-ourselves from those whose patriotism consists in denouncing
-others as enemies of their country, say to the men of good-will
-of our day:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "O socii (neque enim ignari sumus ante malorum)
-   O passi graviora, dabit Deus hic quoque finem." [Footnote 75]
-                       <i>AEneid</i>, lib. I.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 75: "Companions! we have borne evils before this;
-    ye who have suffered worse, remember that God will put an end
-    even to these woes."]
-</p>
-<p>
-How can you who have learned the watchwords of "Progress," and
-"Go-ahead," expect hasty "progress" at Rome, so slow in her
-motions?
-</p>
-<p>
-Napoleon boasted that he had done in three hours what men
-formerly took three months to execute. Yes, he ran from
-Alexandria to Vienna, to Madrid, to Moscow, and&mdash;to St. Helena;
-while Rome remained at her post. Those who do not look
-superficially admit that she showed splendidly her wisdom in
-certain circumstances by not closing the way to future wisdom. In
-the modern exuberance of fungous intelligence, new systems easily
-sprout up, die in a few years; and the heroes of to-day become
-the objects of hatred to-morrow.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_339">{339}</a></span>
-Rome, eternal guardian of truth, cannot make and unmake in haste,
-take up and lay down, like human societies; but she proceeds
-slowly and patiently, yet she advances.
-</p>
-<p>
-Certainly the church will find a new field in which she can
-co-operate with the state to preserve for humanity, no longer the
-antique forms or the mere letter given by Catholics alone, but
-the Christian spirit; a new method of protecting Catholic truth
-in countries open to every people, and every worship; deprived of
-the help of force and decrees, she will have no other support but
-truth; and since this is greater and more secure in Catholicism,
-it will always succeed in propagating itself. Will not this be
-the object of the approaching Council? The General Council will
-not have to destroy what is irremovable, or what derives
-necessarily from eternal truth; but it will help us worldlings to
-separate, in principle, the substance from the form, the essence
-from the application.
-</p>
-<p>
-Certainly the hate which inspires men in these times against true
-liberty, makes governments justify and praise every attack
-against the church, and deprive her of every right, even when
-they pretend to protect her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Do these governments want to form national churches? This would
-be to go back in civilization, which progresses toward union; to
-deny catholicitv or the universality of the race; to give up
-souls as well as bodies to the power of kings, as before
-Christianity; to give the direction of consciences and the
-judgment of morals to the civil power, which should rule only
-bodies.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some would tolerate Catholicity provided there be liberty of
-conscience and of worship; let there be no temporal power in the
-church; no religious corporations; and let the secular clergy be
-raised to the height, as they say, of the age.
-</p>
-<p>
-What is meant by liberty of conscience has been sufficiently
-explained by the pamphleteers, and the popes have given solemn
-decisions on the subject. Conceive a society in which it would be
-unlawful to expel those who violate its laws or disturb its
-order! The church simply expels from the communion of prayers and
-sacrifice those who are obstinate in violating her dogmas. How!
-You insult our community; refuse to communicate in our rites; you
-will not accept the pardon which the church always offers you;
-and yet you pretend to force her to comfort your last moments
-with sacraments which you repel and deride even then; to force
-her to bless your corpse, and bury it in the holy ground where
-repose those with whom you refused to associate during life!
-</p>
-<p>
-As to temporal goods or the right to possess them, and as for
-religious corporations&mdash;that is, the liberty of community life,
-of prayer, benevolence, of wearing a peculiar dress, and of
-worshipping according to your conscience&mdash;what could Alimonda say
-which had not been said by all the independent men of our
-century?
-</p>
-<p>
-As to those who assert that the clergy are not educated up to the
-standard of modern civilization, we need only appeal to those who
-have any knowledge to see if the ecclesiastics do not rank high
-in every part of the encyclopedia; nor do we hesitate to say that
-the most educated man in every village is ordinarily the priest;
-the priest who is compelled to make a regular course of study, to
-pass repeated examinations, and assist at conferences.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_340">{340}</a></span>
-<p class="center">
-                  VII.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is very strange that at a time when the love of show has
-become a mania; when kings, ministers, journalists, and myriads
-of ephemeral heroes are honored with canticles, poems, and
-ovations; when some button-holes have more decorations than our
-altars; when there is hardly a name to which pompous titles are
-not appended, it should be deemed necessary for the benefit of
-religion to abolish external worship in our churches. Is not our
-century especially vain of its investigations in matter? Is not
-the aspiration of the age after physical comfort? Why, then, try
-to restrict religion to the spiritual, to prevent the erection of
-temples which would please the senses of that double being&mdash;man?
-</p>
-<p>
-When Constantinople, austerely interpreting the evangelical
-ordinances, attempted to destroy reverence for holy images, the
-church fought for the right to cultivate the fine arts; and
-sustained martyrdom and exile to maintain the privilege of
-guarding the fine arts in her sanctuaries. When the reform of the
-sixteenth century called the Catholic Church Babylon, because she
-asked Michael Angelo and Raphael to immortalize the grandeurs of
-Christianity, she resisted again&mdash;knowing how to distinguish the
-exceptional life of the voluntary anchorite from the social life
-of the merely honest man; exacting virtues from all her children,
-but virtues suitable to their state, to the mystic life of Mary
-and to the external life of Martha, to the viceroy Joseph and to
-the shoemaker Crispin.
-</p>
-<p>
-The same church defends, to-day, love and art from the modern
-iconoclasts and spurious Puritans.
-</p>
-<p>
-Discoursing about worship, our author begins by that of Mary,
-showing it to be a religious principle in accord with reason; a
-public fact, approved by history; a most tender affection,
-sanctioned by the heart. It is not long since the chief of the
-English ritualists, Doctor Pusey, made the most honorable
-admissions in reference to the Catholic dogmas and ceremonies,
-excepting, however, the reverence which Catholics have for the
-Mother of God. Archbishop Manning's [Footnote 76] reply is one of
-the most beautiful and rational apologies for this worship for
-which Italy is so remarkable. For all republics were consecrated
-to her; she was the chosen patroness of our chief cities; her
-likeness was impressed on our coins and seals; our first poets
-sang her praises, and their echoes have not yet died; our
-painters could find no higher or sweeter model; our architects
-competed in erecting grand temples to her honor; our musicians to
-compose canticles to her praise; great expeditions were
-undertaken in her name; colonies were consecrated to her, where
-now Italian power, but not Italian influence, has ceased. And it
-is Mary who will save our Italy from humiliations, and from that
-degradation which seems to be the only aspiration of her
-intolerant sons. [Footnote 77]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 76: Probably a mistake for Dr. Newman.]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 77: I may be permitted to refer the reader to the
-    fifty-fourth chapter of my <i>Heretics of Italy</i>, in which
-    the respect due to saints and to Mary is discussed.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The intolerant repeat that laws, decrees, and social organization
-are sufficient to regulate civil society.
-</p>
-<p>
-They are sufficient; but they require science to prepare them and
-virtue to apply them; both to be invoked from on high. The safety
-of one's country, the fulfilment of its aspirations, the triumph
-of justice, must come from heaven. Formerly the Italians marched
-to battle under the standard of the saints or of the cross; the
-heroes of Legnano, of Fornovo, and of Curzolari prostrated
-themselves in prayer before fighting; and the Italians of those
-times conquered and gave thanks to God for having given to them a
-beautiful, great, and prosperous country. But now we have popular
-tumults and the ravings of newspapers.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_341">{341}</a></span>
-<p>
-Our strong-minded heroes consider it degrading to bow before the
-Author of all things. Yet, passing over all the wise men of
-antiquity, the most free nation in Europe opens its parliaments
-with prayer, and obeys the orders of the queen to fast in time of
-disaster, or feast in time of great success. The President of the
-United States, no matter what may be his creed, orders a day of
-thanksgiving to God, and he is obeyed. When the telegraph from
-America was able to carry a message to Europe on August 17th,
-1858, the first words which leaped along the wire were, "Europe
-and America are united. Glory to God in the highest; peace on
-earth; to men, good-will." "What grander spectacle can there be
-than to see a whole people united in the duties imposed by its
-religion in celebrating great anniversaries? What heroic
-outbursts, how many noble sacrifices, were expressed in the
-monologues of holy days! What high thoughts and magnificent
-conceptions arose in the souls of philosophers and poets! How
-many generous resolutions were taken! When the observance of the
-Sunday was neglected, the last spark of poetic fire was
-extinguished in the souls of our poets. It has been truly said,
-without religion there is no poetry. We must add, without
-external worship and feast days there is no religion. In the
-country, where the people are more susceptible of the religious
-sentiment, the Sunday still keeps a part of its social influence.
-The sight of a rustic population united as one family by the
-voice of its pastor, and prostrated in silence and recollection
-before the invisible majesty of God, is touching and sublime; is
-a charm which goes to the heart."
-</p>
-<p>
-Who speaks in this way? Proud hon. [sic] And Napoleon says, "Do
-you want something sublime? Recite your <i>Pater noster</i>."
-</p>
-<p>
-The most sublime prayer is the mass&mdash;the culminating point of
-worship; the perennial expiation of perennial faults. From the
-mass Alimonda passes to confession; then to communion; and thence
-to the responsibility of present life. He exhorts all to
-<i>understand</i> and <i>believe</i>. This is the creed of the
-Christian: <i>Credere et intelligere</i>.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 VIII.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have thus far followed the illustrious Alimonda, repeating or
-developing his arguments. Let us now examine his manner of
-treating the questions which he discusses.
-</p>
-<p>
-The classic Greek orators had wonderful simplicity of style, in
-which the familiarity of their expressions ennobled their
-sentiments and gave force to their reasoning. The Eastern fathers
-followed in their footsteps. The Latins ornamented eloquence so
-as to make it a special art, assigning it a measured cadence, a
-peculiar intonation of voice, a system of position and gesture.
-Hence, the Latin fathers studied speech even to affectation,
-sought after rhetorical figures, yet always more attentive to the
-practical than to the abstract. The French formed themselves
-rather according to the Greek models; and the noble simplicity of
-Bossuet, Massilon, and Fénélon renders them still models for one
-who would discourse before a polished people.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Italians, if you except some of the very earliest preachers,
-preferred to ornament their speeches and indulge in artificial
-figures. In the ages of bad taste, the worst display of metaphors
-disgraced the pulpit; whence the custom passed to the bar and
-parliament, where there have been and still are so many examples
-of unnatural oratory.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_342">{342}</a></span>
-Hence, in so great an abundance of literature, we have no good
-preachers except Legneri. In modern times, the style of the
-pretentious Turchi has been changed to that of the academic
-Barbieri; but that style of preaching "whose father is the
-Gospel, and whose mother is the Bible," is rarely heard in our
-pulpits. Our very best eloquence, that of the pastorals and
-homilies of our bishops, is spoiled by too frequent citations,
-and is often devoid of that sentiment which comes from the heart
-and goes to it. We do not want to borrow the French style. It is
-a mistake to steal the language of another nation, either in
-writing or preaching. Peoples have different dispositions. It
-would not do to address the Carib in the same way as the
-Parisian, or the contemporaries of Godfrey as the subjects of
-Napoleon.
-</p>
-<p>
-Our author, beside being familiar with the first propagators and
-defenders of Christianity, is highly educated in the classics,
-and has always ready phrases, hemistichs, and allusions which
-display his erudition. His method is prudent, his divisions
-logical, and the train of ideas well followed up; his language
-correct, and the clearness and marvellous beauty of his style
-show him to be a finished orator.
-</p>
-<p>
-He draws an abundance of materials from the most diverse and
-recondite sources. He adduces the most recent discoveries of
-science regarding the essence of the sun, nebula, aerolites, and
-on the nature of matter. Without mentioning the biblical and
-legendary portions of his work, there are in it traces of every
-part of both ancient and modern history: Camoens and Napoleon,
-Abelard and Renan, Isnard and Jouffroy, Donoso Cortes and
-Cagliostro, Marie Antoinette and Madame de Swetchine, Ireland and
-Poland, the discourses of Napoleon III. and of Cavour. The author
-brings us through the byways of London to the prison of Thomas
-More, to the solitude of St. Helena, and to the lands where the
-missionaries are laboring. He quotes even the heroes of romance:
-"Renzo" and the "Unknown," Renato, Werter, St. Preux, the Elvira
-of George Sand, Wiseman's Fabiola, and Victor Hugo's Valjean.
-With the spoils of the Egyptians Alimonda builds a tabernacle to
-the living God. Who will censure him, since our Holy Father, in a
-brief of September 20th, 1867, approves his labor?
-</p>
-<p>
-The nineteenth century can be saved only by means suitable to the
-nineteenth century; and Simon Stylites or Torquemada, the
-Crusaders or the Flagellants, would be as much out of place
-to-day as catapults or the theory of uncreated light. We must
-fight with modern weapons.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "Clypeos, Danaumque insignia nobis aptemus." [Footnote 78]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 78: "We must use the weapons and dress of the
-    Greeks." <i>AEneid</i>, lib. ii.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We must study Catholicity in all its bearings, and reconcile
-divine and human traditions with modern exigencies; authority
-established on an immovable pedestal, with liberty which is
-always developing.
-</p>
-<p>
-Courage! Let us arouse ourselves from lethargy, and not suffer a
-condition of affairs for which we are responsible. Let us
-remember, with Bacon, that prosperity was the boon of the Old
-Testament; adversity, of the New; persuaded, with Donoso Cortes,
-that "it is our duty, as Catholics, to struggle, and that we
-should thank God who has chosen us to fight for his church," let
-us display that energetic will which is so rare among good
-people. With charity and faith, by association and perseverance,
-we can conquer hatred and unbelief, the divisions of sects, and
-the onslaughts of error on the strongholds of Catholic truth.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_343">{343}</a></span>
-<br>
-         <h2>Two Months In Spain During<br>
-           The Late Revolution.</h2>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-                    Seville, Fonda De Paris.<br>
-                    September 23, 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-The train leaves Cordova at six A.M., and we are delighted to be
-again on our journey. The route proves of little interest between
-Cordova and Seville; the Guadalquivir is first on one side of us
-and then on the other; the hills and mountains bound each side of
-the plain, where are olive groves, and peaceful flocks, and
-ploughmen, as if no revolution were occurring around them. At
-Almovar, (situated on a high hill,) we see the ruins of a Moorish
-castle where that half-Moor, Peter the Cruel, confined his
-sister-in-law, Doña Juana de Lara. Carmona is another town which
-has the same celebrity. Here he imprisoned many of his female
-favorites when tired of them. We grow very hungry in spite of
-these tragic histories, and our young gentleman buys a great
-melon <i>de Castile</i>, which, proving very delicious, we make a
-good breakfast <i>à l'espagnol;</i> but are not sorry to see the
-towers of the Giralda, and soon after we enter Seville&mdash;the most
-charming of all Spanish towns; the city of Don Juan and Figaro;
-the gayest, the most celebrated for its beautiful women, its
-graceful men, its bull-fights, its gypsies, its tertulias, its
-fandangos, its cachuchas, its Murillos, its cathedral, (said to
-rival St. Peter's,) and its Alcazar, which is almost as wonderful
-as the Alhambra.
-</p>
-<p>
-After dinner, we hasten to the cathedral through busy, crowded
-streets, by handsome shops; passing occasionally a pretty
-Sevillian whose black dress, bare arms and neck seen through the
-black lace mantilla, with the dainty pink rose peeping from
-beneath it, harmonize exactly with one's idea of the Spanish
-woman. And presently, upon a terrace ascended by several steps,
-we see before us this wonderful pile of buildings: the Giralda
-(Moorish tower) on one side; the Sagrario (the parish church) on
-the other; the chapter house, and offices facing the cathedral;
-and in the centre of all these the court of oranges! The
-cathedral is entered from this court by nine doors. We scarcely
-know how to describe this magnificent gothic building, which has
-affected us more than any we have ever seen. Coming upon us so
-immediately after the mosque of Cordova, (each of these a perfect
-specimen of its kind,) one sees in each the reflection of the
-different faiths they represent. The graceful, elegant mosque
-seems to appeal more to the senses, to speak of a faith which
-promises material joys, while the grand and majestic gothic
-cathedral carries one's heart to the heaven in which these lofty
-arches seem to be lost. In despair of being able to do justice to
-so high a theme, I must borrow from O'Shea's guide-book the
-following description of this building:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The general style of the edifice is gothic of the best period
-  of Spain, and though many of its parts belong to different
-  styles, these form but accessory parts, and the main body
-  remains strictly gothic. Indeed all the fine arts, and each in
-  turn, at their acme of strength, have combined to produce their
-  finest inspiration here.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_344">{344}</a></span>
-  The Moorish Giralda, the Gothic cathedral, the Greco-Roman
-  exterior, produce variety, and repose the eye. Inside, its
-  numerous paintings are by some of the greatest painters that
-  ever breathed; the stained glass, amongst the finest known; the
-  sculpture, beautiful; the jewellers' and silversmiths' work
-  unrivalled in composition, execution, and value. The cathedral
-  of Leon charms us by the chaste elegance of its airy structure,
-  the purity of its harmonious lines; the fairy-worked cimborio
-  of that at Burgos, its filagree spires, and pomp of
-  ornamentation are certainly more striking; and at Toledo, we
-  feel already humbled and crushed beneath the majesty and wealth
-  displayed everywhere. But when we enter the cathedral of
-  Seville, there is a sublimity in these sombre masses and
-  clusters of spires whose proportions and details are somewhat
-  lost and concealed in the mysterious shadows which pervade the
-  whole, a grandeur which quickens the sense, and makes the heart
-  throb within us, and we stand as lost among these lofty naves
-  and countless gilt altars, shining dimly in the dark around us,
-  the lights playing across them as the rays of the glorious
-  Spanish sun stream through the painted windows. Vast
-  proportions, unity of design, severity and sobriety of
-  ornament, and that simplicity unalloyed by monotony which
-  stamps all the works of real genius, render this one of the
-  noblest piles ever raised to God by man, and preferred by many
-  even to St. Peter's at Rome."
-</p>
-<p>
-It is said that the canons and chapter resolved to make this
-church the wonder of the world; and with this view, sent for the
-most celebrated architects and artists of the world to adorn it,
-denying themselves almost the necessaries of life to accomplish
-the great work.
-</p>
-<p>
-The pillars are one hundred and fifty feet high; the church, four
-hundred feet long, two hundred and ninety-one wide, with
-ninety-five windows and thirty-seven chapels; and nearly each one
-of these contains some pictures of Murillo, Cespedes, Campana,
-Roelas, or some Spanish painter of celebrity. We go from chapel
-to chapel, gazing upon these, lingering before the altar "Del
-Angel de la Guarda," where is Murillo's exquisite picture of the
-guardian angel with the young child by the hand (so often
-reproduced,) and lost in awe before his grand picture of St.
-Anthony of Padua, to whom the infant Jesus descends, amidst
-angels and flowers and sunbeams, into the arms ecstatically
-extended toward him. In a little chapel we come upon a lovely
-Virgin and Child, by Alonso Caño, called N. S. de Belem,
-(Bethlehem.)
-</p>
-<p>
-But the sun declined, and we ascended the Giralda to see his last
-beams shine upon so much beauty. What a strange and charming
-scene! The forest of white houses painted with delicate blue and
-green; the flat roofs decorated with gardens; the four hundred
-and seventy-seven narrow streets, some hardly admitting two
-people abreast, through which toiled the patient mules bearing
-burdens of stones, mortar for building, wood, and vegetables; the
-one hundred ornamented squares and promenades; the orange
-gardens; the plaza de Toros; the cathedral just beneath us, with
-its hundreds of turrets; the Torre del Oro, (Tower of Gold,) so
-named from its yellow hue; the Lonja, (Exchange,) with its pink
-color; the grey Alcazar; the palace San Telmo by the
-Guadalquivir, which winds through the city and over the plain;
-and convents, and churches, and palaces; and, beyond all, the
-verdant plains and the blue mountains! As the sun sank, the
-convent bells rang the "Ave Maria."
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Blessed be the hour!
-   The time, the chime, the spot."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Certainly we all "felt that moment in its fullest power"!
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_345">{345}</a></span>
-<p class="right">
-                  Thursday, 24.
-</p>
-<p>
-Our first visit to-day is to San Telmo&mdash;the royal palace given by
-Queen Isabella to her sister, the Duchess de Montpensier&mdash;on the
-banks of the Guadalquivir, with enchanting gardens, palms and
-citrons, and orange-trees; and within, all oriental in its style
-and decorations. Here are some lovely pictures&mdash;one of Murillo's
-most beautiful Virgins, several splendid Zurbarans, a Sebastian
-del Piombo, Holy Family, etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-Next we visit the great tobacco manufactory, where 4000 women are
-employed making cigars. As all these were talking at once, we
-were glad soon to escape. And then the Alcazar, the wonderful
-Moorish palace, than which not even the Alhambra can be more
-beautiful&mdash;as it seems to us. We wander in delicious gardens
-&mdash;like those described in the <i>Arabian Nights</i>&mdash;and then
-enter the enchanted palace! Passing several courts, we find the
-great door of entrance sculptured and painted in arabesque. Here
-is a long hall, with exquisitely carved and painted roof, from
-which we pass into a square marble court, or patio, with double
-rows of marble columns and a fountain in the centre. From the
-four sides of this patio you enter by immense doors, carved and
-inlaid, into the apartments beyond. First, the Hall of the
-Ambassadors, which communicates with others through elegant
-arches profusely ornamented, supported by marble pillars of every
-color with gilded capitals. The walls and dome are ornamented
-with sentences from the Koran, in gilt letters upon grounds of
-blue and crimson. Every chamber has different decorations, all
-equally elegant.
-</p>
-<p>
-Below, opening from the garden, we are shown some subterranean
-cells said to have been the prisons of Christian captives, and
-above these the luxurious baths of Maria de Padilla&mdash;the famous
-mistress of Peter the Cruel. It was the custom for the king and
-courtiers to sit by and see her bathe, and for the latter to
-pretend to sip the water of the bath. Seeing one of these fail in
-this gallant duty one day, the king asked why he omitted it.
-"Because, sire," (said the witty courtier,) "I am afraid to like
-the sauce so well that I shall covet the bird." Peter the Cruel
-lived much in this palace, and did much to embellish it through
-the Moorish artists whom he employed. Many of the Spanish kings
-lived there, and Charles V. was married in one of the upper
-rooms. These we did not see, and learned afterward that they were
-inhabited by "Fernan Caballero," one of the most popular writers
-of Spain&mdash;whose delightful books we learned later to admire.
-Fernan Caballero is the <i>nom de plume</i> of this lady, who has
-had many misfortunes, and who by permission of the queen lives in
-the Alcazar, devoting her life to deeds of benevolence amongst
-the poor, whose traits and trials she records in many delightful
-works. It is a pity that out of France these books should be
-unknown. One of our party determines to take some of them to
-America, that they may be translated and bring to the knowledge
-of our people these charming scenes of Spanish home life so
-inimitably described.[Footnote 79]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 79: One of "Fernan Caballero's" (Mrs. Fabre) books,
-    <i>The Alvareda Family</i>, has already been translated here
-    and published in <i>The Catholic World</i> three years ago;
-    and two others, <i>The Sea Gull</i>, and <i>The Castle and
-    Cottage in Spain</i>, have appeared in an English dress in
-    London, and <i>Lucia Garcia</i> is already translated and
-    will soon appear in this magazine.&mdash;ED. CATH. W.]
-</p>
-<p>
-In the evening we go to a ball, to see the Andalusian dances in
-their proper costume. Boleros, and cachuchas, and seguidillas,
-and manchegas! Such graceful movements, such little feet in such
-dainty satin shoes!
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_346">{346}</a></span>
-<p>
-Generally to the accompaniment of the guitar, with most peculiar
-and monotonous music, singing at the same time, clapping the
-hands, stamping the feet, and the dancer always with castanets.
-All the dances were peculiar, solos, often in couples, or three
-at a time, some of these coquettish&mdash;one, especially, danced by a
-man and a woman, he in hat and cloak, she with fan and mantilla.
-How she wielded this little "weapon"!&mdash;now hiding her face, now
-peeping from behind it, which he also did with his <i>manta</i>.
-By and by he takes off his hat and humbly lays it at her feet.
-She dances over it scornfully; without ever losing the step, he
-recovers it. She flies; he pursues, opening his manta
-entreatingly; she relents; again he throws down the hat; she
-stoops and gives it to him, and eventually they dance away with
-the manta covering both.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-                     Friday, 25.
-</p>
-<p>
-We go again to the wonderful cathedral; examined many pictures
-which yesterday escaped us. In the chapter house is one of
-Murillo's "Conceptions," and eight charming heads (ovals) painted
-by him, in the same room. In the chapel of the kings lies the
-body of St. Ferdinand, and of Murillo; who asked to be buried at
-the foot of a picture (The Descent from the Cross) of which he
-was particularly fond, which is above the main altar.
-</p>
-<p>
-Near the great entrance of the cathedral a stone in the pavement
-marks the spot where lies Fernando, the son of Christopher
-Columbus, with the motto upon it, "A Castilla y á Leon, mundo
-nuevo dió Colon." From his tomb we go to the great Columbine
-Library given by him to his country, containing some interesting
-MSS. of his father&mdash;one, a book of quotations containing extracts
-from the psalms and prophets, proving the existence of the new
-world. There are a series of portraits round the room, of
-Columbus, his son, St. Ferdinand, Cardinal Mendoza, and Cardinal
-Wiseman, (who was a native of Seville.) There is also preserved
-here the great two-edged sword of Ferdinand Gonsalves.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some of our party go to visit the archbishop, in the hope to get
-permission to see the treasures of the church, which are very
-valuable; but the presence of the revolution obliges him to deny
-us this as well as the <i>entrée</i> to the convent of St.
-Theresa, which is said to be exactly the same as when she founded
-it. It was here she underwent such great trouble and persecution,
-and where (finding she had but two or three coppers with which to
-begin a great foundation) she said to her nuns, "Never mind, two
-cents and Theresa are nothing; but two cents and God are
-everything."
-</p>
-<p>
-And this interesting convent we could not see.[Footnote 80]
-Indeed, the time of our visit to Spain was inopportune for seeing
-the inside of religious houses. A former revolution having
-deprived them of their property, they have now the fear of being
-turned out of their convents.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 80: For a full description of this convent see Lady
-    Herbert's <i>Impressions of Spain</i>, just from the press of
-    the Catholic Publication Society. This work also contains
-    illustrations of cathedrals, churches, gardens, palaces, and
-    other places described in these letters.&mdash;ED. CATH. W.]
-</p>
-<p>
-While we wait in the church for the return of our friends, we
-enter into conversation with two of the little boys of the choir,
-whose beauty attracts us, begging them to describe the style in
-which they dance before the Blessed Sacrament on Corpus Christi,
-which is said to be a ceremony most solemn, grave, and
-impressive. These children evinced great curiosity about us, and
-when told that one of the party was "a convert," (had been a
-Protestant,) could not be made to comprehend what it meant; for
-they confound all Protestants with unbelievers.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_347">{347}</a></span>
-"And did not know about our dear Lord!" said one little fellow
-with a look of sorrowful compassion, reminding one of the scene
-in one of Fernan Caballero's tales (<i>The Alvareda Family</i>)
-where the hero comes home from his travels and describes a
-country covered with snow so that people are sometimes buried
-under it.
-</p>
-<p>
-We go to see the house in which Murillo lived and the spot where
-he was first buried&mdash;passing the house in which Cardinal Wiseman
-was born, upon which is a large tablet with a beautiful and
-appropriate inscription. In Murillo's house is an extensive
-gallery with many of his loveliest pictures, and some of the
-pictures of monks for which Zurbaran is so famous.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here we see the Infant St. John with the Lamb, and the Infant
-Saviour, so often repeated by Murillo, apart and together an
-exquisite Ecce Homo; several Madonnas, and Saints.
-</p>
-<p>
-On our way we are shown the shop where dwelt the original Figaro,
-and also the house of Don Juan!
-</p>
-<p>
-The Casa de Pilatos, one of the residences of the Duke of Medina
-Coeli, next claims us&mdash;a curious old palace, built in the
-sixteenth century in imitation of Pilate's House in Jerusalem,
-which was visited at that time by the founder. The patio is fine,
-with a beautiful fountain, and double row of columns, (one above
-another,) with statues at the four corners. The marble staircase
-and halls&mdash;lined with azulejos, (colored porcelain tiles,)
-universally used in this country&mdash;are particularly handsome.
-</p>
-<p>
-Next we go to the "Caridad," one of the most celebrated hospitals
-in the world, founded by a young nobleman of Seville in the
-seventeenth century, upon ground which belonged to a brotherhood
-whose duty it was to give consolation to those about to die on
-the scaffold. This young man (Don Miguel de Mañara) was
-distinguished for his profligacy, but also for his bravery,
-generosity, and his patronage of art. One of our friends told us
-some most interesting anecdotes connected with his conversion.
-</p>
-<p>
-Returning from some orgies, one night, he saw a female figure
-upon a low balcony beckon him. Thinking to have an adventure, he
-sprang into the open window and found a dead body with a with
-lights about it alone in the room. Another time, returning at
-midnight through the streets, he saw a church lighted, and,
-wondering what could be going on at such an hour, entered. Before
-the altar was a bier upon which was extended a body covered with
-the mantle of the knights of the order to which he belonged, the
-priests about it singing the office for the dead. Asking whose
-funeral it was, he was answered, "That of Don Miguel Mañara," and
-going to the corpse and uncovering it, saw his own face. The
-morning found him stretched upon the pavement, the vision gone.
-But the impression remained, in which he recognized a call from
-God to a better life, which he soon after entered, giving his
-whole fortune to found this institution for the sick, the aged,
-and "incurables;" and here he lived and died an example of
-humility, piety, and penitence. Murillo and other eminent artists
-were also members of this confraternity, and a letter of the
-former is here shown in which he asks permission to join the
-brotherhood. To the friendship of Don Miguel for Murillo the
-hospital is indebted for some of the finest pictures in the
-world. In the church are two of his grandest and largest
-pictures, "Moses striking the Rock," called here the "Sed,"
-(thirst,) and the "Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes," a
-Visitation, an Infant Saviour, and a St. John.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_348">{348}</a></span>
-There are also several most remarkable pictures by Valdes Leal;
-one, "The Triumph of Time," in which the skeleton Death stands
-triumphantly above crowns and sceptres and "all there is of
-glory." Opposite to this is "The Dead Prelate," a picture made at
-the suggestion of Mañara. From the top of the picture a
-<i>pierced hand</i> holds the scales, in one side of which a
-kingly crown, and jewels, and sceptre, weigh against the mystic
-"I. H. S." and a book, the Word of God. Below lies a dead
-prelate, in mitre and crosier, half eaten by the worms; on the
-other side, Don Miguel Mañara, wrapped in his knightly mantle,
-upon which also the worms run riot. On one of the scales is
-written "nor more;" upon the other, "nor less."
-</p>
-<p>
-Murillo told the painter that he could never pass this picture
-without involuntarily "holding his nose." Under the pavement,
-near the door, lies the body of the founder; "the ashes of the
-worst man that ever lived," so he styles himself in his epitaph;
-and he requested that he might lie where the feet of every passer
-should walk over him. The sisters conduct us over the clean and
-airy wards. On the wall of the patio are these words, from the
-pen of Mañara himself, "This house will last as long as God shall
-be feared in it, and Jesus Christ be served in the persons of his
-poor. Whoever enters here must leave at the door both avarice and
-pride." And over his own cell is inscribed, "What is it we mean
-when we speak of death? It is being free from the body of sin,
-and from the yoke of our passions. Therefore, to live is a bitter
-death, and to die is a sweet life."
-</p>
-<p>
-Another of the charming histories told us by the same lady was of
-St. Maria Coronel, whose body is preserved in the convent of St.
-Inez, which we could not be permitted to see. Peter the Cruel,
-because enamored of her great beauty, condemned her husband to
-death, but offered to save him if she would yield to his wishes.
-The husband was actually executed, and Maria fled to this
-convent, where the king pursued her. One night he entered her
-cell; and, seeing no other way to escape him, she seized the
-burning lamp, and emptied its boiling contents over her face. The
-poor lady lived the life of a saint, and died in this convent.
-Her body is as fresh as if she had died yesterday, and the marks
-of the oil upon her face as clearly visible as upon the day when
-the heroic deed was committed.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the evening we walk in the crowded streets, and find splendid
-shops filled with lovely women, who go at this hour to walk or
-shop, never stirring out in the day. As late as eleven, when we
-came in, the streets and shops were yet filled with ladies.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-                 Saturday, 26.
-</p>
-<p>
-We spend the morning in the gallery, which is considered the
-finest in Spain, after that of Madrid. This is especially rich in
-Murillos, and has several Zurbarans, the Spanish Caravaggio so
-famous for his pictures of monks. Here is "The Apotheosis of St.
-Thomas Aquinas," considered his masterpiece; and of Murillo there
-are about twenty-four of his greatest pictures: the "St. Thomas
-of Villanuova giving Alms," which was the painter's own favorite;
-the "St. Anthony of Padua kneeling before the Infant Saviour,"
-who stands upon his book&mdash;the most perfect type of a child God;
-and the ecstasy, the fervor, the humility, in the pale,
-attenuated face of the monk brings the tears to one's eyes, you
-so feel with him.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_349">{349}</a></span>
-Next this is a picture preferred to the other by most persons,
-"St. Felix of Cantalicia," with the infant Saviour in his arms,
-the blessed Mother leaning forward to receive him. The beauty of
-the Virgin Mother and the grace of her attitude is said by
-critics to be beyond all praise. Then comes a beautiful
-"Annunciation," a "St. Joseph with the child Jesus," "Saints
-Rufina and Justina," (the patrons of Seville,) "Saints Leandro
-and Buonaventura," several "Conceptions," and the exquisite
-"Virgin de la Sevilleta," (Virgin of the Napkin,) said to have
-been painted on a dinner napkin, and given as a present to the
-cook of the convent where Murillo worked. The "St. John Baptist
-in the Desert" should also be mentioned, as well as many others.
-</p>
-<p>
-This evening we bid farewell to beautiful Seville, with all its
-delights, and set out for Cadiz.
-</p>
-<p>
-Certainly it is the Spaniards, not the French, who are "the
-politest people in the world." The conductor opens the railway
-carriage with "Good evening, ladies. May I trouble you for your
-tickets?" concluding with "A happy night to you." In passing a
-street, the other day, a gentleman with whom we had crossed the
-mountains, and whose name we do not even know, rushes from his
-house to say, "Ladies, is anything wanting? Here is your house."
-Such is the pretty exaggerated Spanish phrase. Leaving Seville,
-we pass orange-groves and fields divided by aloe and cactus
-hedges, but the country is flat and uninteresting; and, except
-Lebrija, which has a tower, the rival of the Giralda, and Jerez,
-we see no towns of any size or interest till we near Cadiz.
-"Jerez de la Frontera" (the frontier town) has always been of
-importance; one of the earliest Phoenician colonies. Close to
-this took place the battle of the Guadelete, which opened Spain
-to the Moors. St. Ferdinand recovered it in 1251; but it was
-retaken, and again recovered by his son, Alonzo the Learned, in
-1264, who granted to it many important privileges, peopling it
-with forty of his hidalgos&mdash;the source of the present Jerez
-nobility. It has an Alcazar of great interest&mdash;its Alameda&mdash;some
-fine old churches, and near it are the ruins of a fine old
-Carthusian convent upon the Guadelete, which the Moors called the
-River of Delight. Jerez is now celebrated for its wines; the
-sherry so prized in England and America, which occupies palaces
-rather than wine-cellars. These are called "bodegas," and
-sometimes hold ten thousand casks. As we near Cadiz we see Puerta
-San Maria, at the mouth of the Guadelete&mdash;a pretty town, looking
-upon the sea, with a suspension bridge looking most picturesque
-in the moonlight; then Puerto Real, San Fernando, Cadiz.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-     Cadiz, Fonda De Paris.<br>
-                 Sunday, 27.
-</p>
-<p>
-The guide takes us first to hear high mass in the new
-cathedral&mdash;a handsome building, entirely of white marble, within
-and without. Some good pictures, (copies of Murillo,) fine music,
-and the most devout of congregations. The loveliest of women, in
-modest black dresses, mantillas, and fans, sat or knelt upon the
-matting, which is spread upon the space between the high altar
-and the choir. No seats are provided. A few bring little black
-camp-stools. The bishop (who gave the benediction) is a most
-dignified and elegant-looking person; and the guide tells us he
-is much beloved and respected. Already the new order of things
-pulls down churches and banishes the Jesuits, as the first proof
-of that "liberty of worship" which is one of the most popular of
-the war cries.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_350">{350}</a></span>
-Such bandit-looking fellows as we saw yesterday! Catalan
-soldiers, in red cap, short pantaloons with red stripe,
-half-gaiters, and a red blanket on the left shoulder, a leathern
-belt, with pistols and a great rifle.
-</p>
-<p>
-The revolution spreads everywhere, "peacefully," as they say. We
-see a handbill posted, in which the queen is spoken of as
-"<i>Doña</i> Isabella of Bourbon," to whom they wish "no harm."
-</p>
-<p>
-Some Spanish ladies who had once lived in America, and are
-friends of ours, came to visit us. They are intensely loyal, as
-are all the women of Spain whom we encounter. From these we learn
-that, as in all revolutions, the dregs of the people come to the
-top, and are most conspicuous. It is only they make it who have
-nothing to lose, and all to gain. These "juntas," who now rule in
-each city under the provisional government, are composed of
-people of low birth and bad morals. Here they are taken from the
-low trades-people, who are noted drunkards and unbelievers. Into
-such hands are committed the destinies of this lovely city. Their
-first work has been to try and kill the Jesuits, who, with a
-hundred little boys under their care, had to defend themselves
-from these men and the rabble they encourage. And but for the
-officers of the fleet, who, with pistols in hand, thrust
-themselves between them, they must have been murdered. These
-officers took them on board the ships for safety, and some are
-yet secreted in the town, waiting an opportunity to escape.
-To-day our guide takes us to several curious old churches which
-were formerly convents, with pretty cloisters and marble courts.
-These, he says, are doomed by the junta to be torn down to build
-houses and theatres, thus destroying these beautiful old
-monuments of a past time in their blind fury against religion.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the evening we change our hotel to the "Fonda de Cadiz," on
-the gay "plaza San Antonio." After dinner walk by the seashore on
-the walls. As we pass the streets, we enter several churches,
-where the people are hearing sermons, or saying prayers with the
-priests. Such picturesque groups!
-</p>
-<p>
-To-night we see from our windows a procession carrying the
-Blessed Sacrament to the sick, from the parish church opposite. A
-carriage is always sent, and a long procession, bearing lights,
-precedes and follows. One of the ladies present tells us that
-last carnival, in the midst of the gayeties on this square, men
-and women, in every variety of ridiculous costume, were dancing
-to merry music, when suddenly the bell was heard preceding the
-Blessed Sacrament, which was being carried to a sick officer,
-living upon the square. In an instant every knee was bent of the
-motley throng, and the band struck up the Royal March in the most
-effective manner, and accompanied the procession to the house;
-returning, the fun recommenced. This lady says there was never
-anything witnessed more affecting. "And," added she, "this is the
-faith these revolutionists would take from us. Already they talk
-of introducing every religion, and they will build a mosque and a
-synagogue!"
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-                       Monday, 28.
-</p>
-<p>
-The morning is given to shopping, to see the lovely mantillas of
-every shape and style; fans of wonderful workmanship and
-exquisite painting on kid or silk; the beautiful figures in every
-variety of Spanish costumes, made in Malaga, of a particular kind
-of clay for which Spain is famous; the pretty mattings of Cadiz,
-etc.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_351">{351}</a></span>
-In the evening we walk with our friends upon the "Alameda," a
-charming promenade by the seaside, where stately palm-trees wave
-above marble seats and columns. Entering the church of Mount
-Carmel we find it filled with people saying prayers and the
-rosary. To-night we are kept awake by the mob, who are marching
-with drums and ringing the church bells in honor of a victory
-over the queen's troops near Cordova.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-                       Tuesday, 29.
-</p>
-<p>
-At eight o'clock we set out upon an excursion to Jerez, to visit
-the bodegas and taste the fine wines. Passing the salt-meadows we
-see the white pyramids of salt glistening in the sunlight, which
-had so puzzled us when we last saw them by moonlight. The bay of
-Cadiz is on one side, the broad ocean on the other, in the
-distance the mountains of the Sierra del Pinal. A friend joins us
-at Puerta Real, and takes us to one of the largest bodegas in
-Jerez, where are 10,000 casks of wine&mdash;each cask valued at $500!
-The proprietor (a gentleman of English or Irish descent) is most
-kind, shows us this extraordinary place, and gives us to taste of
-the finest wines&mdash;brown sherry and pale sherry, fifty years of
-age. But the most delicious of all are the sweet wines&mdash;which are
-also sherries&mdash;and are called "Pedro Ximenes" from the name of
-the person who first introduced this grape. These wines are rich
-and oily, (perfect "nectar,") and are made from the grape when
-almost as dry as raisins&mdash;twelve days from off the vine. In the
-midst of these oceans of fine wines, Mr. Graves (the proprietor)
-tells us he rarely tastes them, only occasionally taking a glass
-of the sweet wine.
-</p>
-<p>
-Jerez is said to be the richest town in Spain, the richest of its
-size in the world. Beautiful plazas planted with palms, and fine
-old palaces. We visited an ornamental garden belonging to one of
-these wine princes, where were lakes, and streams, and grottoes,
-and bridges, and groves, and flowers of every variety, birds and
-fowls, and model cattle, etc. And then we saw San Miguel, one of
-the finest churches we have seen, (gothic interior,) of the
-fifteenth century, (1432,) elegantly ornamented. There is also a
-cathedral and another most interesting church, (St. Dionisius,)
-built by Alonzo the Learned in the thirteenth century, said to be
-a particularly fine specimen of the gothic moresque of that
-period. After a fine breakfast of the delicious Spanish ham,
-chocolate, cakes, and sherry, we return to Cadiz. Passing "Puerta
-San Maria," we see the Jesuit college, from which they have just
-been ejected, the broken trees, the trampled gardens telling
-their own story of violence. One of the gentlemen in the train
-tells us there were two hundred and fifty boys cared for here,
-and that the Jesuits fed five hundred poor each day with soup
-from the leavings of the table. The great building looked a
-picture of desolation.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-night we have another ringing of bells and marching to the
-sound of the odious revolutionary hymn. One of the gentlemen of
-our party goes out to hear the speeches in the square. Some of
-the speakers propose to offer the crown to the father of the King
-of Portugal, (of the Catholic branch of that lucky <i>Coburg</i>
-family who, possessing nothing, gain everything by marriage,)
-others are for the Duke of Montpensier. Some cry "Vive Napoleon."
-In fact, they are in great embarrassment&mdash;have caught the
-elephant and do not know what to do with him, like another nation
-we know of.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_352">{352}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-                  Wednesday, 30.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day we hear that all Catalonia has "pronounced," and even
-Madrid, and that the rejoicings of last night were for the
-victory of "Alcolea," just won, over the queen's troops, in
-which, however, the liberals have lost three thousand men. These
-troops were commanded by Serrano, (Duke de Torres,) who owes
-everything to the queen's favor; and on the queen's side by the
-Marquis de Novaliches, "faithful found amongst the faithless." We
-hear of one of her officers (the young Count de Cheste) who has
-shut himself with his men in the fortress of Montjuich, at
-Barcelona, resolving to die rather than submit. One must admire
-such devotion, in whatever cause it is shown. "Loyalty! the most
-pure and beautiful feeling of the human breast. It is a love
-which exists without requiring the usual nourishment of return; a
-feeling void of every shade of egotism; that desires and requires
-nothing but the happiness of loving, that causes one joyfully to
-sacrifice life and property for the exalted object whose voice,
-perhaps, never reached his ear. This feeling, in its highest
-purity, is the very triumph of human capacity." Such is the true
-definition of "Loyalty," which, like "Liberty," is often profaned
-and constantly misunderstood. With our pretty Spanish friends we
-go to see a church called the "Cave," a church only for
-gentlemen, where they may go privately to their confession and
-devotions. The confessionals are unlike those used for women, for
-the men go in front and kneel face to face with the priest. It is
-a beautiful chapel, wonderfully rich in marbles and fine
-vestments and bassi-relievi, and below it is a gloomy chapel from
-whence the church derives its name. Over the altar is represented
-the crucifixion. It is dimly lighted through a dome, and the
-figures (large as life) seem to live. Here the men go for
-meditation, and for the Good Friday and other solemn festivals.
-At one end of the chapel is a carved chair, raised on a platform,
-upon which the priest sits to give his instructions, while a lamp
-is so arranged that the light falls only upon the speaker's face,
-leaving the rest of the chapel in darkness. The young priest who
-showed us the church had the face of an angel, so fair and young
-and holy; or, rather, such a face as is represented in a picture
-of St. Aloysius Gonzaga, the patron of youth.
-</p>
-<p>
-As we wander from shop to shop one of our pretty friends meets
-one of the beaux of Cadiz, whose "loyalty" she suspects and whom
-she berates most violently for deserting his queen in her need,
-and helping to embarrass his country. The pretty way with which
-she shakes her fan at him, and gesticulates with her hands, the
-expressive eyes and play of feature, is altogether charming and
-<i>Andalusian</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-Late this evening, we hear particulars of the late battle.
-Novaliches fought against fearful odds&mdash;three thousand men to
-sixteen thousand. He was severely if not mortally wounded, and
-was carried off by his men to Portugal, the only way of retreat
-open to them. This defeat, we suppose, will put an end to the
-war.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Thursday, Oct. 1.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is the feast of the Guardian Angel of Spain, so we hear mass
-where the devotion of the forty hours begins. As in Italy, two by
-two, kneeling and holding lights, the men of the congregation
-keep watch before the Blessed Sacrament during these forty hours,
-while hundreds of adorers continually coming and going attest the
-devotion of this pious people.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_353">{353}</a></span>
-The Church of the Guardian Angel is near that belonging to the
-military hospital; and on the opposite side of the square is an
-asylum for widows, founded many years ago by a converted Moor&mdash;a
-most interesting institution. Widows of all ranks and conditions
-find shelter here when their necessities require it. Each one has
-her own chamber and sitting-room, and each one her little cooking
-apparatus separate. The court with its open corridors on every
-story, its pretty flowers, its fine promenade on the roof, makes
-it a very inviting abode; and, with the usual Spanish courtesy,
-the old widow who showed us about (the widow of an officer, who
-had been there these forty years) placed it at our "disposition."
-These poor women go out to walk, and to church when they wish,
-though there is also a chapel in the house.
-</p>
-<p>
-We go next to see the "Albergo dei Poveri," a magnificent
-charity, founded and endowed by one man in memory of his mother,
-and dedicated to St. Helena. Here five hundred children of both
-sexes are taught weaving, sewing, washing, shoemaking, etc., and
-there is also an asylum for five hundred old men and old women.
-The school-rooms and dormitories are large and airy; the marble
-courts, where the children play, and the sewing-room, where a
-hundred girls sat at work, looked out upon the sea, and were
-deliciously cool and comfortable. The school-rooms were decorated
-with pictures of Bible history, and seemed to have all the modern
-inventions which make easy the way to learning. The sister told
-us how much they had been disturbed by this revolutionary
-movement. Her little orphan boys (who had been taught music with
-the view to enter the army as musicians) had been carried off at
-night to play the revolutionary hymn, kept out marching over the
-town till two o'clock in the morning, and then sent home
-foot-sore and with aching heads.
-</p>
-<p>
-The most interesting thing of all was to see the old men at
-dinner&mdash;that helpless thing, an old man. Placed by the nice
-table, a man with snow-white apron served the soup, a sister gave
-round the meat, and then came a pudding. The bread was as white
-as is all the bread of Spain, (even the poorest people have bread
-of this very white flour,) and there seemed about a hundred of
-these men over sixty years of age. The rain drives us home, but
-by and by we go out again to buy some of the boots and shoes of
-Cadiz, which are the prettiest in the world and cover the
-prettiest of feet.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-  Feast Of The Guardian Angels.<br>
-  Friday, Oct. 2.
-</p>
-<p>
-We go to the lovely church of the Rosary for high mass. The
-decorations are very tasteful and beautiful, and hundreds of men
-and women, in their grave black garments, assist most devoutly;
-the men have benches on each side, the women sit or kneel upon a
-bit of matting before the altar.
-</p>
-<p>
-From this we go to the "Capuchinos," where we see three of
-Murillo's finest pictures, the "Marriage of St. Catherine," over
-the altar, which he left unfinished and which is surrounded, in
-five compartments, by five pictures of Zurbaran, almost equal to
-the centre piece. There is here another "Conception," and that
-picture of pictures, "St. Francis receiving the Stigmata," which
-is certainly the most extraordinary of all the works of this
-great master. The face of the saint seems to come entirely out of
-its dark surroundings, and so do the wonderful hands. These all
-look like the living flesh, and move us as if they were so.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_354">{354}</a></span>
-<p>
-This Capuchin convent, which Murillo loved to adorn, and in
-painting for which he lost his life, is now a hospital for
-lunatics&mdash;the monks all gone; the present Bishop of Cadiz was one
-[of] them. And to show the devotion of the common people to
-Murillo, they will not allow the bishop to move this picture of
-St. Francis to an opposite altar, where it would be in a better
-light and preserved from the smoke of the altar candles. "No; the
-place for which Murillo painted it must be the best place, and
-there it shall stay." In a chapel near by is a lovely picture of
-"Our Lady of the Rosary," which must be a copy of the one in the
-gallery of Madrid so celebrated. In this chapel and everywhere
-here we see statues or pictures of the "Martyrs of Cadiz,"
-(Servando and Germano,) two young Roman soldiers who, becoming
-converts, died for the faith on a spot near the present city
-gates. It is said that on the occasion of the terrible earthquake
-which occurred here November 1st, 1755, when the sea rose and
-threatened to devour the city, two young men in strange garments
-appeared on the spot of their martyrdom and were seen by hundreds
-of the inhabitants to stay the waves, speaking to the people and
-bidding them pray to God. On another side of the city the
-Dominican priests bore the favorite statue of "Our Lady of the
-Rosary," with many prayers, to the waters' brink, and "the waves
-receded and there was a great calm."
-</p>
-<p>
-On the third side, where Cadiz is most exposed to the sea, is a
-little church in which the priest was saying mass on the eventful
-morning. 'The people ran to him saying, "Behold! the sea is at
-the very door." He made haste to consume the consecrated Host,
-then seizing the crucifix and the banner of "Our Lady of Mercy,"
-went out upon the door-step where the waves already licked his
-feet: "My Mother, let them not come further"&mdash;and they did not!
-</p>
-<p>
-What is so remarkable in the accounts of this earthquake is, that
-there had been no storm to precede it, but on a soft sunshiny day
-came this terrible convulsion of the elements. We went to see
-this church, where is yet shown the crucifix and the banner which
-played so important a part on this occasion; and see the point to
-which the water rose, and an inscription on the wall of a house
-recording the event exactly as here related. Next we visit the
-church of San Lorenzo, and afterward that of the Scalzi,
-(barefoot friars,) where to-day was said the "last mass;" the
-"junta" having decreed that it be torn down to build a theatre.
-The work of destruction had already commenced. How the strong old
-walls resisted! A dozen carpenters were taking down the gilded
-altars and curiously carved "retablos," which, belonging to the
-days when Spain had her argosies from the new world laden with
-gold, were made to resist "all time." Four men with iron crowbars
-were striving to dislodge an angel suspended over an altar, which
-positively refused to come down; while below him, on the floor,
-stood saints and martyrs covered with dust and <i>débris</i>,
-hastily dislodged from the pedestals on which they had rested for
-centuries&mdash;a rueful group! No wonder the women wept, and eyed
-resentfully the malicious-looking revolutionists employed to
-order the work; while armed soldiers, with the hateful red ribbon
-on the arm, (the revolutionary mark,) kept off the populace, who
-strove to get in at the doors, by the market, to bid farewell to
-these ancient altars.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_355">{355}</a></span>
-It had been the church of the market people, the cradle of some
-of popular saints, the scene of the "first communion," the
-"nuptial mass," the baptism of their children, the funeral mass
-for their dead. Great is the clamor outside! Old people kiss the
-walls, and the young gather bits of the broken altars, while
-sorrowful-looking priests are permitted to carry away the
-mutilated statues and gildings.
-</p>
-<p>
-The convent of the Good Shepherd, opening into the church, is
-also to be torn down, and its unhappy inmates driven elsewhere to
-seek shelter. They are putting into the <i>same convent</i>
-these, with Carmelites, Ursulines, and others; crowding together
-those who teach with those who save the Magdalens in strange and
-painful confusion. Such are some of the fruits of revolution! And
-this is the "liberty" which England and America seek for the
-Spaniard!
-</p>
-<p>
-To-night we hear that the Marquis de Novaliches has died of
-lockjaw, his face having been dreadfully wounded by a ball. The
-Conte de la Cheste, who held Monjuich at Barcelona, has gone to
-join the queen, abandoning his "forlorn hope" at her request.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-              Saturday, October 3.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day we hear the high mass in the cathedral, and go to see the
-jewels in the sacristia. They have a remarkable "custodia," (the
-gift of an ancestor of the Calderon de la Barca,) set in pearls
-and emeralds of immense value; a superbly chased crucifix, the
-gift of Alonzo the Learned; a small but exquisitely worked
-tabernacle of gold with beautiful amethysts forming a cross,
-given by the same king. After the mass we go to buy some of the
-famous Cadiz gloves, and then drive on the ramparts to see the
-fine sea view. In the evening, to the church of the Carmel. As it
-is the eve of the feast of "Our Lady of the Rosary," the church
-of the Rosary is illuminated, and most of the houses throughout
-the city.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-                Sunday, Oct. 4.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the church of the Rosary is a beautiful ceremony. The music is
-lovely; the wind instruments, in certain parts of the mass, most
-effective, and the whole one of the most solemn services at which
-we have assisted.
-</p>
-<p>
-The sermon is delivered with such grace and unction that we could
-but realize the truth of that saying of Charles V., that Spanish
-is the language in which to speak to God! So grand, so sonorous!
-And there is something in the grave dignity of the Spanish priest
-which makes him seem the perfection of ecclesiastical character.
-We are all struck with the decorum of the people in the churches,
-the quiet and devotion; none of the running in and out and the
-familiarity with holy things which in Italy makes one see that
-the people regard the church as their father's house, in which
-they take liberties. Here, it is alone the house of God, as is
-seen in the reverential manner and careful costume. All wear
-black, and not even is a lace mantilla usual, but the Spanish
-mantilla of modest silk. The men are alike reverential, and
-nowhere have we seen so many men in church, particularly at
-night.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day we hear the good news that the government of the city is
-taken from the hands of the junta and given into the care of the
-former military governor of Cadiz, in conjunction with the
-admiral of the fleet. This is received with great favor by the
-people of moderate opinion of both sides, as putting a stop to
-extreme measures. They have countermanded the destruction of the
-two old churches, the Franciscan and the Scalzi; of the
-last-named they tell a most extraordinary story to-day.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_356">{356}</a></span>
-Yesterday the destroyers had knocked down a portion of the thick
-old wall. This morning it was found rebuilt as if by invisible
-hands, with the same heavy masonry, as strong as before, and even
-the white plaster upon the outside dry and barely to be
-distinguished from the rest of the building. Everybody runs to
-look at it. The people cry "a miracle," and say that the Blessed
-Virgin, whose feast it is to-day, had <i>a hand in it</i>.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-               Monday, Oct. 5.
-</p>
-<p>
-We go for the last time to the shops, and to hear our last mass
-in San Antonio; for to-morrow we leave beautiful Cadiz and the
-dear friends who have made our stay so delightful. The political
-horizon to-day is a little clearer. In consequence of some
-outrages upon priests and churches one man has been banished to
-Ceuta, and large placards are upon the streets threatening with
-like punishment every one who insults a priest or injures a
-church. The banished man had harangued the mob, assuring them
-that a Dominican father in the convent of that order had some
-instruments of torture, formerly used in the Inquisition, and
-that he applied them to his penitents. The unthinking mob, guided
-by him, rushed to search the convent, broke the church windows,
-and not finding what was promised them, turned their fury upon
-the man who had deceived them.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the war of 1835, when Saragossa began the work of burning the
-monasteries and murdering the monks, Cadiz gave her monks five
-hours to get away, and armed guards saved the monasteries. To be
-sure, the populace burned the libraries and furniture; but as
-Cadiz was then more moderate than her sister cities, she will not
-now be less kind than then. How impossible to believe, in looking
-out upon a city so smiling and so lovely, that evil passions
-should lurk in it anywhere!
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-          To Be Continued.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-  <h2>The Approaching Council Of The Vatican.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-The preparations for the approaching council continue to be made
-on a grand scale, and with the greatest diligence. From the
-<i>Chronicle of Matters relating to the future Council</i>, which
-is regularly published at the office of the <i>Civilta
-Cattolicà</i>, in Rome, we copy the list of the different
-commissions and their members which are preparing the matters to
-be discussed and decided upon by the bishops assembled in
-ecumenical council.
-</p>
-<p>
-The supreme directive congregation is composed of the most
-eminent cardinals, Patrizi, de Reisach, Barnabo, Panebianco,
-Bizarri, Bilio, Caterini, and Capalti. To these are joined, as
-secretary, Mgr. Giannelli; and as consulters, Mgr. Tizzani, Mgr.
-Angelini, vicegerent of Rome, Mgr. Talbot, (an Englishman,) Don
-Melchior Galeotti, of the seminary of Palermo, F. Sanguineti, S.
-J., professor of canon law in the Roman College, Professor Feije,
-of the University of Louvain, and Professor Hefele, of Tübingen.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_357">{357}</a></span>
-The commission of ceremonies is composed of prelates who have the
-general supervision of the grand functions which take place in
-the principal churches of Rome. The politico-ecclesiastical
-commission is composed of;
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Cardinal de Reisach, president,<br>
-  Mgrs. Marini,<br>
-  del Parco a Theatine,<br>
-  Bartolini,<br>
-  Jacobini,<br>
-  Ferrari,<br>
-  Nussi,<br>
-  Gizzi,  (a judge in one of the high courts,)<br>
-  Guardi, (vicar-general of the religious
-          congregation of ministers of the sick,)<br>
-  Canon Kovaes, of Kolocza in Bohemia,<br>
-  Canon Molitor of Spire in Germany,<br>
-  the Abbé Chesnel, vicar-general of Quimper,<br>
-  Canon Moufang of Mayence,<br>
-  the Abbé Gibert, vicar-general of Moulins, and
-  Mgr. Trinchieri, secretary.
-</p>
-<p>
-The commission for eastern affairs is composed of
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Cardinal Barnabo, president,<br>
-  Don John Simeoni, of the Propaganda,<br>
-  F. Bollig, S. J., professor of Sanscrit and Oriental
-    languages in the Roman university
-    and Roman college,<br>
-  F. Vercellone, (Barnabite religious; since deceased,)<br>
-  F. Theiner, of the Oratory,<br>
-  the Most Rev. Leonard Valerga, prefect of Carmelite
-     missions in Syria,<br>
-  the Right Rev. Joseph David, a Syrian bishop,<br>
-  Canon Roncetti, professor in the Roman seminary,<br>
-  Don Joseph Piazza,<br>
-  Don Francis Rosi,<br>
-  F. Haneberg, abbot of St. Boniface and professor
-    of theology in the university of Munich,<br>
-  F. Martinoff,<br>
-  S. J., Mgr. Howard, (an Englishman,) and<br>
-  Mgr. Cretoni, secretary.
-</p>
-<p>
-The commission on the religious orders and congregations is
-composed of
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Cardinal Bizarri, president,<br>
-  Mgrs. Marini, Svegliati, and Lucidi,<br>
-  F. Capelli, (Barnabite,)<br>
-  F. Bianchi,(Dominican,)<br>
-  F. Cipressa, (Minorite Franciscan,)<br>
-  F. Cretoni, (Augustinian,)<br>
-  F. Costa, (Jesuit,)<br>
-  Mgr. Guisasola, arch-priest of the
-     cathedral of Seville, and<br>
-  Don Francis Stoppani, secretary.
-</p>
-<p>
-The commission of dogmatic theology is composed of
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Cardinal Bilio, president,<br>
-  Mgr. Cardoni, president of the ecclesiastical academy,<br>
-  F. Spada, (Dominican,) master of the
-     sacred palace and professor of
-     dogma in the Roman university,<br>
-  F. de Ferrari, (Dominican,)<br>
-  F., Perrone, S.J.,<br>
-  Mgr. Schwetz, professor of theology in the
-     university of Vienna,<br>
-  F. Mura, ex-general of the Servites, rector
-     of the Roman university,<br>
-  F. Adrogna, definitor-general of the
-     conventual Franciscans,<br>
-  Mgr. Jacquenet, curé of St. Jacques at Rheims,<br>
-  the Abbé Gay, vicar-general of Poitiers,<br>
-  F. Martinelli, (Augustinian,) professor of Scripture in the Roman
-     university,<br>
-  Don Joseph Pecci, professor of philosophy in the same,<br>
-  F. Franzlin, S. J., professor
-     of theology in the Roman college,<br>
-  F. Schrader, S.J., professor in the
-     university of Vienna,<br>
-  Professor Petacci, of the Roman seminary,<br>
-  Professor Hettinger, of Wurtzburg,<br>
-  Professor Alzog, of Friburg,<br>
-  the Rev. Dr. Corcoran, of Charleston, S. C.,<br>
-  Canon Labrador, professor of philosophy and theology at Cadiz, and<br>
-  Canon Santori, rector of the pontifical lyceum in the Roman
-     seminary, secretary.
-</p>
-<p>
-The commission of ecclesiastical discipline is composed of
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Cardinal Caterini, president,<br>
-  Mgrs. Giannelli,<br>
-  Angelini,<br>
-  Svegliati,<br>
-  Simeoni,<br>
-  Nina,<br>
-  Nobili,<br>
-  Lucidi,<br>
-  de Angelis, professor of canon law in the Roman
-     university,<br>
-  F. Tarquini, S.J.,<br>
-  Canon Jacobini,<br>
-  Professor Hergenroether, of Wurtzburg,<br>
-  Professor Feije of Louvain,<br>
-  the Abbé Sauvé, of Laval,<br>
-  Canon Giese, of Munster,<br>
-  Professor Heuser, of Cologne,<br>
-  Professor de Torres, of Seville, and<br>
-  Mgr. Louis Jacobini, secretary.
-</p>
-<p>
-Several other distinguished men have been added to these
-commissioners since this list was published. Dr. Newman was
-invited to assist, but declined on account of his infirm health.
-Dr. Döllinger was also invited.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_358">{358}</a></span>
-<p>
-The sessions of the council will be held in one of the large
-chapels of St. Peter's Church, which is capable of containing
-several thousand persons. The principal architects of Rome are
-already engaged in preparing the proper accommodations, under the
-immediate supervision of the Holy Father himself. The altar of
-the council is at one end of the chapel, the throne of the
-sovereign pontiff at the opposite end. On the right and left of
-the throne are placed the seats of the cardinals, patriarchs, and
-ambassadors of sovereigns. The seats of the prelates are ranged
-in two semicircles, each tier being elevated above the one before
-it; the tribune of the orators is placed in the middle of the
-open space between, and there are also tribunes prepared for
-those who will be admitted as spectators of the public sessions.
-</p>
-<p>
-A large and beautiful piece of black marble, which was found
-among the treasures of the Emperor Nero, at the recent
-exhumation, is to be made into an obelisk commemorative of the
-council, which will be erected near the spot where St. Peter was
-crucified. The base of the column is to be made of a number of
-small blocks of white marble, equal to the number of prelates
-assisting at the council, each one placing his own block, with
-his name and title engraved upon it.
-</p>
-<p>
-The bishops alone are entitled to a seat in the council by divine
-right. Cardinals, abbots, and generals of religious orders are
-entitled to a seat also, by ecclesiastical law or privilege. The
-question of the right of bishops <i>in partibus infidelium</i> to
-a seat is now under discussion, and we have not learned whether
-it has yet been decided or not.
-</p>
-<p>
-This circumstance has given the Roman correspondent of the <i>New
-York Herald</i>a chance of furnishing a specimen of the
-ridiculous and reckless falsification of matters relating to the
-Catholic Church, by which the ordinary readers of newspapers are
-perpetually befooled and mystified. The doubt respecting the
-right of these bishops is represented as having been raised in
-order to keep out those who are not sufficiently subservient to
-the holy see, and the conclusion drawn&mdash;with the usual flippant
-impertinence of this class of writers&mdash;that Rome will admit none
-who are not prepared to carry out fully her own policy. The truth
-is, however, that these bishops <i>in partibus</i>&mdash;who are
-prelates holding merely titular sees which are in fact extinct or
-in the possession of schismatics, many of them having been
-decorated with the episcopal character by the pope only for the
-sake of honor&mdash;are precisely the men who have the least power of
-opposing the holy see and the greatest interest in procuring its
-favor. Some of them are vicars-apostolic governing missionary
-districts, others are coadjutors of diocesan bishops, others are
-prelates who have resigned their sees, and the remainder are
-prelates filling certain high offices in the Roman court. It is
-evident enough that if there were any reason to apprehend
-opposition to the pontifical authority from any portion of the
-hierarchy, it would be rather from the primates and metropolitans
-of old and powerful sees, who have been nominated by sovereigns,
-and who would have all their support and authority to sustain
-them. There is no reason, however, to apprehend that any
-collision will take place between the holy see and the hierarchy,
-who have never in the whole history of the church been more
-completely united than they are at present.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_359">{359}</a></span>
-<p>
-The bishops take no theologians with them, and, besides the
-prelates themselves, only the theologians of the holy see and the
-representatives of the sovereigns will participate in the
-deliberations of the council.
-</p>
-<p>
-In regard to the matters which will be proposed for the
-adjudication of this supreme tribunal, we find many conjectures,
-more or less plausible, both in Catholic and secular periodicals.
-We prefer to wait until the acts of the council are made known in
-an authentic manner, before speaking on this subject. We remark
-merely that there is not the slightest foundation for the rumors
-which are reported in certain newspapers respecting proposed
-changes in the established discipline of the church, regarding
-matters which have long ago been definitely settled.
-</p>
-<p>
-The impression made upon the whole civilized world by the
-convocation of an ecumenical council is deep, universal, and
-continually increasing as the time for its assembling draws near.
-The infidel and red-republican party in Europe manifest a fear
-and dread which is certainly remarkable, and very encouraging to
-all friends of religion and order. The politicians of the old
-<i>régime</i> of state supremacy over the church also manifest a
-terrible and perfectly well-founded alarm, lest the church should
-assert and regain her perfect liberty and independence, and
-condemn, without any hope of appeal, those maxims and opinions by
-which they have hitherto held a certain number of sincere
-Catholics in alliance with themselves.
-</p>
-<p>
-The reception given by the emperor of Russia and the patriarch of
-Constantinople to the pope's invitation is too well known to need
-any fresh notice. Of course, the great body of the oriental
-prelates follow the dictation of these two potentates&mdash;a striking
-commentary upon the value and sincerity of the protest which they
-make against the tyranny of the Roman patriarch. There are not
-wanting, however, certain instances showing the impression which
-the pope's invitation has made upon the more sincere and
-conscientious members of these separated communions. The bishop
-of Trebizond, a man of venerable age, received the encyclical
-letter with marks of great respect, raising it to his forehead
-and pressing it to his bosom, exclaiming at the same time with
-emotion, "O Rome! O Rome! O St. Peter! O St. Peter!" He would
-not, however, declare any decisive intention either to attend the
-council or to absent himself. The bishop of Adrianople returned
-the letter, saying, "I wish first to reflect. I wish to decide
-for myself." Letters from the east testify that many of the Greek
-schismatics openly blame the patriarch and the bishops who have
-refused to attend the council, saying, that by this refusal they
-have shown that they are afraid to enter into discussion with the
-Latin bishops. It is believed that the Armenian bishops who were
-summoned by their patriarch, residing at Constantinople, to
-advise with him respecting the pope's invitation, were in favor
-of accepting it, from the fact that he afterward sent the
-encyclical to the patriarch of Esmiasin with the report of the
-doings of the synod. A strong unionist party has been formed
-among the Armenians, and one of their prelates, Mgr. Narses, has
-published a long letter advocating union with the Roman Church.
-The Ottoman government favors union as a means of weakening the
-influence of Russia, and has separated the Bulgarians, who number
-four millions, from the jurisdiction of the patriarch of
-Constantinople. It has also refused to recognize a prelate sent
-by the patriarch of Esmiasin to act as his nuncio at
-Constantinople for the purpose of counteracting the efforts of
-the unionist party, and has given a semi-official warning to one
-of the most violent <i>Russophilist</i> journals. [Footnote 81]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 81: Later news informs us that the Armenian
-    patriarch of Constantinople has been forced to resign by the
-    clamors raised against him, that the Greek patriarch had
-    called an "ecumenical" council, and that the Coptic patriarch
-    of Alexandria received the encyclical with great respect and
-    many expressions of courtesy toward the prelate who was the
-    bearer of it.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_360">{360}</a></span>
-<p>
-It is an interesting fact that the king of Birmah, when made
-acquainted with the desire of the Holy Father that sovereigns
-should place no obstacle in the way of the attendance of the
-bishops in their dominions at the council, exclaimed: "What! can
-there be any princes who would oppose such a just and holy
-desire? For my part, I not only promise to interpose no obstacle,
-but I engage to pay the travelling expenses of the bishops of my
-kingdom both going and returning." He has also announced the
-intention of sending by each of the bishops a jewelled cross as a
-present to the pope.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Jansenist bishops of Holland, who are five or six in number,
-each one having two or three priests and about a thousand people
-under his jurisdiction, find themselves compelled, by their own
-professed principles, to submit themselves to the judgment of the
-council. They have appealed, ever since the condemnation of
-Jansenius, from the pope to an ecumenical council. Now they find
-an ecumenical council on the eve of assembling, before which they
-have full liberty to appear, and plead their case. They
-acknowledge the infallibility of the tribunal, and therefore can
-have no choice but to submit to its decision, which they openly
-profess their readiness to do, so that without doubt they will
-all be reconciled to the church.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among Protestants we find everywhere a great excitement
-respecting the council, a full recognition of the immense
-importance of the crisis which it must inevitably bring upon
-Protestantism; in general, a disposition to rouse up for the
-defence of their losing cause, and oppose an obstinate renewal of
-their old protest to the admonition of their chief pastor to
-return to their allegiance, but occasionally a manifestation of a
-different sentiment&mdash;a disposition to listen, to hope for good
-results, and to welcome the thought of a possible reconciliation.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the tenth day of last November, M. Guizot uttered the
-following words at a reunion of ecclesiastics and laymen, at
-Notre Dame de Dozulè, in Normandy:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "You priests have faith; it is faith which directs you; and
-  even when you seem to act imprudently, success always justifies
-  you in the end. &hellip; It is thus that the Catholic Church
-  sustains itself, happily for France and the world. &hellip; The
-  clergy dies not, the papacy does not fall. &hellip; Pius IX. has
-  exhibited an admirable wisdom in convoking this grand assembly,
-  from which, perhaps, will issue the salvation of the world; for
-  our societies are very sick; but, for great evils there are
-  great remedies. [Footnote 82]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 82: <i>Rev. du Monde Catholique</i>, for January
-    25th, p. 299.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The German publicist, Wolfgang Menzel, in the number of his
-<i>Literary Leaves</i> for last October, thus writes:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "We are far from wishing to blame a reunion of all good
-  Christians, even though the same authority in Protestants who
-  are truly Christian is not sufficiently recognized. Every
-  tentative of reunion, however restricted it may be, must be
-  hailed with joy."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_361">{361}</a></span>
-<p>
-Reinhold Baumstark, in a pamphlet upon the pontifical letter,
-says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It is the Catholic Church which has directed and accomplished
-  the education of humanity during the whole middle age. Since
-  the Reformation, it has sustained without succumbing three
-  centuries of violent struggles, and, if the eternal truth of
-  God lives in it, we shall see the realization of the word of
-  its founder, that <i>"there shall be one fold and one
-  shepherd."</i>
-</p>
-<p>
-In quite a different spirit writes Prof. Schenkel, of Heidelberg:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It is impossible to deny that the Protestant church of Germany
-  is at present running a very great danger. The different
-  confessions are becoming daily more opposed to each other.
-  Theological parties engage in mortal combats; the liberal party
-  is combated by the servile party. The bond of peace is with
-  deliberate purpose torn and broken and a large portion of the
-  German people, witnesses of these disputes, fall into
-  discouragement, distrust, and indifference. The ancient and
-  malign enemy laughs at our folly, that, after having bitten one
-  another, we shall finish by eating one another up. &hellip; Let us
-  say it, to our shame, we have no remedy to oppose to this evil.
-  Interiorly divided, absorbed in party disputes, deprived of
-  autonomy, the sport of political calculations, and
-  politico-ecclesiastical experiments which are perpetually
-  changing, torn by theological hatred, abandoned by the
-  populations, thrust aside by all classes of citizens, our
-  church resembles only too much a shipwrecked vessel which lets
-  in water on every side. How can we face the violent tempest
-  which is brewing, when we lack unity of direction, when we lack
-  a head, are destitute of any solid interior or exterior
-  organization, when we are consuming our forces in the continual
-  wars of one confession against another?"
-</p>
-<p>
-We are sorry, Professor Schenkel, that we really cannot tell you
-how you can do it. Perhaps Dr. Bellows, the American and Foreign
-Christian Union, or the <i>New York Observer</i> might suggest
-something a little consoling or encouraging to the unfortunate
-gentleman.
-</p>
-<p>
-The official replies made by various Protestant bodies in Europe
-are, as we might expect, a reiteration of their old protests
-against the Roman Church, and a declaration of their contentment
-with their present state. The most courteous and well-reasoned of
-these papers which we have seen is that of the Unitarian pastors
-who sit in the seat of Calvin at Geneva. It makes the issue
-between rationalism, liberalism, and humanitarian progress, on
-one side, and the supernatural revelation of doctrine and law, on
-the other, very distinctly&mdash;imputing, in the usual style,
-servility, formalism, tyranny, and obscurantism to the Catholic
-Church, and claiming for Protestantism the merit of protecting
-and promoting true liberty, intelligence, and happiness. There is
-more of the same kind in the number of the <i>Liberal
-Christian</i> (February 6th) in which we have read this address.
-As statements of the position and opinions of the parties issuing
-them, these documents may pass. We are to expect that those who
-are challenged in the way they have been will reply in just such
-a manner. These are only the preliminaries of an earnest
-controversy which must be carried on for a long time before any
-result can be looked for.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dr. Hedge, of Harvard University, has rendered himself supremely
-ridiculous by denying that St. Peter was bishop of Rome, or even
-visited Rome at any time; from which he concludes that the pope
-has no right to issue encyclicals as his successor. [Footnote 83]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 83: See article on this point in the present
-    number.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_362">{362}</a></span>
-<p>
-The <i>Liberal Christian</i>, with a kind of audacious valor,
-backs him up, and declares that "the whole claim of the bishop of
-Rome is an absurdity." Suppose it to be so to the superior and
-enlightened minds of this editor and his compeers; the assertion
-of it carries no weight, and can have no effect upon any other
-person's mind. Another Unitarian, the Rev. Samuel Johnson, of
-Massachusetts, says: "If I believed in his (Christ's) authority
-even as Matthew presents it, not to say Paul or John, I should
-regard the principles of the papacy as in substance right,
-whatsoever I might think of the conduct of its representatives."
-[Footnote 84] Considering the very great importance of the
-subject, the great learning and number of those who differ from
-our enlightened friends, and the curious circumstance that almost
-every person thinks that no opinion or sect but his own can
-uphold itself against the claims of Rome, would it not be in
-better taste to have patience a little longer, and speak with a
-little more moderation?
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 84: <i>Radical</i>, January, 1869, p. 9.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The <i>Christian Quarterly</i>, which is a ferocious young
-Campbellite periodical published at Cincinnati, thus addresses
-the Protestant community:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Are you able to feel the sting in the following words of
-  'Pius, sovereign pontiff, ninth of the name, to all Protestants
-  and non-Catholics?' In speaking of the multitudinous sects of
-  the Protestant world, and of the restlessness, instability, and
-  uncertainty that everywhere characterizes Protestantism, he
-  says," etc. "The very fact that the Pope of Rome should, in the
-  last half of the nineteenth century, have occasion to pen such
-  a paragraph, ought to call the blush of shame to every
-  Protestant cheek! Protestantism has been experimenting for
-  three hundred years, and the pope of Rome has summed up the
-  result! Let Protestantism try the force of its logic upon this
-  papal dilemma!" [Footnote 85]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 85: <i>C. Q.</i> Jan. 1869, pp. 52-3.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We take the following item of news from the <i>London Tablet</i>:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "English Protestants And The Council.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "There are signs around us that a movement is beginning. The
-  <i>Diplomatic Review</i>, a peculiar and certainly a remarkable
-  journal, published the first Wednesday of every month, in
-  London, contains a Protestant address to the pope, and notifies
-  to its readers in town and country that it will lie for
-  signature at its office till the end of the month. The purport
-  of the address is to implore the pope to proclaim again, by his
-  own authority or by that of the council, the observance of the
-  laws of natural justice by Christian and civilized nations in
-  their relations with the heathen and the uncivilized. In an
-  article written in French this same journal says: 'We pronounce
-  the words of the pope like texts, we draw our deduction from
-  his maxims, and we see in the accomplishment of his work the
-  only hope for the preservation of European society.' &hellip; 'The
-  strength of the pope is the law:' our duty is to announce
-  explicitly this truth, Christianity must be preached anew.' In
-  addition to this remarkable declaration, we have the public
-  expression of the Rev. E. W. Urquhart, at a meeting of the
-  'English Church Union,' presided over by the Hon. and Rev. C.
-  L. Courtenay, in South-Devonshire. He said that the separation
-  of church and state is not far distant, and suggested that the
-  Anglican party should seek reunion with the Church of Rome, and
-  that representatives should be sent to the council, to
-  stipulate the conditions of their submission to the see of
-  Rome. This language may sound startling in the mouth of an
-  Anglican clergyman; but we expect the courage of Mr. Urquhart's
-  utterance will unloose many a tongue. Of course, the only
-  stipulation that can be made is that of unqualified submission
-  to the holy see. To a human and fallible authority you may
-  bring conditions; to one that is divine and infallible, you can
-  bring only faith and docility."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_363">{363}</a></span>
-<p>
-The comments of the secular press upon the council, in many
-cases, would seem as if their authors were aiming to carry
-burlesque to its most farcical extreme. Their spirit is that of
-the mocking ridicule of Voltairian infidelity without its show of
-argument, together with the grossest materialism and the
-systematic disavowal of any principle higher than self-interest
-or political expediency. It is sufficiently absurd when such
-writers attempt to express, under the protection of their
-anonymous cloak, any opinions whatever in religious matters. Much
-more, when they offer their ludicrous advice to the prelates and
-theologians of the Catholic Church, and pretend to understand the
-true nature of Christianity and its mission upon earth better
-than the church herself. In itself the matter is only laughable,
-and of course the really intelligent and well-informed would only
-receive with a smile of derision the notion that any serious
-meaning or value could be ascribed to such lucubrations. But it
-becomes serious and lamentable when we reflect how small this
-class really is. The proofs are continually forced upon us of the
-fact, that a large proportion of those who are intelligent enough
-to make money, to keep the run of politics and the exchange, to
-dress well, and to make a show, really read nothing but the daily
-papers, look to them for their ideas of religion as well as every
-other topic, and are actually possessed by the grossest
-ignorance, and the most dense and stolid prejudice, in regard to
-everything relating to the Catholic Church and to all Catholic
-nations. Any convert to the Catholic Church, who mixes with
-ordinary men of business or with general society, will testify to
-the fact that they are frequently accosted with expressions of
-surprise that persons intelligent and reputable, such as they
-are, can possibly be Catholics, and with the assertion, as of a
-truism, that only the ignorant, the degraded, and the vicious,
-which with Americans is generally a synonym for poor people or
-foreigners, believe in the doctrines of the Catholic Church.
-Those who read the sectarian newspapers suffer themselves to be
-swept along by the lying current which runs through them, like
-the filthy stream of a sewer. We happen to have just read a
-description from a London paper of a visit to the sewers of that
-city which presents an apt and forcible illustration of what we
-are saying: "Under Farrington street west," says the writer, "the
-Fleet Ditch was running in two swift, black streams; almost below
-the footway upon each side, some three feet six inches deep, and
-with so strong a current that we were assured it would be
-impossible to save the life of any one who stepped or slipped
-into them. These foul streams recalled the ancient Styx and made
-one hold back with something like a shudder."
-</p>
-<p>
-The following extract from the <i>Boston Traveller</i> has just
-fallen into our hands in good time to serve as an instance in
-point:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The New Light Of The Catholic Church.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Mr. Editor: Sabbath evening, April 4th, Father I. T. Hecker,
-  editor of the <i>Catholic World</i>, delivered a lecture in the
-  Music Hall on 'The Religious Condition of the Country.' As it
-  has been reported by the press, it would seem to be little more
-  than a tissue of misrepresentations of New England in
-  particular, and of Protestantism in general. It would be a
-  sufficient reply to the exaggeration and conceit of the
-  reverend padre to say, that if Protestantism had done nothing
-  more than to enable him to rail for an hour and a half at the
-  most cherished and sacred feelings of our people, its mission
-  would not be in vain. And herein is its eminent superiority to
-  that cast-iron system which holds the reviler of our faith. Can
-  Catholicism do what Protestantism did on Sunday week? Will
-  Rome, or any other Catholic city, permit a Protestant minister,
-  placarded and advertised days in advance, in a public hall, to
-  burlesque and hold up to contempt the Catholic faith? This
-  lecturer knows that Rome is mean enough to forbid the exercise
-  of Protestant worship to travellers, or visitors from
-  Protestant lands sojourning temporarily within her walls.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_364">{364}</a></span>
-  And yet <i>he</i> comes to the largest hall in the capital of
-  New England and has the impudence to undertake to tell our
-  people that they are adrift on two tides, one of which is to
-  Rome and the other to infidelity. And if his statements are
-  reliable, infidelity makes altogether the better stand. But we
-  insist that he is either wilfully false or wilfully ignorant,
-  or he would not have said that 'not one in ten of the people of
-  New England accepts as fundamental, the truths which his
-  forefathers held.'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Father Hecker knows, if he knows anything, that the
-  evangelical churches of New England hold for substance the same
-  doctrines that their fathers held; and he knows, too, that
-  there is not a doctrine held or advocated in any Protestant
-  Church in Christendom which does not have its advocates in the
-  bosom of the Catholic Church. He must be aware that biblical
-  criticism has made sound progress within two hundred and fifty
-  years; and we can hardly believe that even he would be narrow
-  enough to deny that certain doctrines may be re-stated and
-  re-explained without plunging into infidelity, least of all
-  pushing for Rome.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "But as he has chosen to attack New England in particular, it
-  is no more than fair, perhaps, that New England should have the
-  privilege of being compared with the most favored Catholic
-  countries. He certainly will not object to France, which has
-  always been overwhelmingly Catholic, not one in ten of her
-  population being Protestant. And yet scarcely fifty years have
-  passed since the whole nation voted God out of existence, and
-  deified reason in the person of a harlot. The Romish priests,
-  he knows, were among the foremost in this carnival of
-  infidelity and blood. Nor need he be told that the men of
-  France, to-day, are infidels. Italy, too, the seat of this
-  boasting church, is overshadowed, as Father Hecker knows, by a
-  sneering, malignant infidelity. And Spain&mdash;blessed, so
-  recently, with the most Catholic queen to whom the Pope sent
-  the golden rose, which enjoyed for generations the blessings of
-  the Inquisition, and for many years committed the entire
-  education of her people into the hands of the Jesuits&mdash;what
-  shall we say of her? The best thing we can say of her is, that
-  she drove from her borders that nasty woman, and sent the
-  Jesuits after her. And this is the fruit of Catholicism, and
-  not of Protestantism.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "In only a single country where the Catholic Church has been
-  supreme has the result been the Catholic faith&mdash;that country is
-  Ireland. And if Father Hecker is willing to compare the Irish,
-  who are the best fruits of the Catholic Church, with the people
-  of New England, who are the best fruits of Protestantism, we
-  are entirely content. But it is not a little singular that
-  these best children of the Catholic Church should have
-  immigrated to this country by the million, and are still
-  coming, to improve their condition? And we think that Father
-  Hecker himself will not deny that these favorite sons of Rome
-  have wonderfully improved in intelligence, morals, and thrift
-  in this infidel New England.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "But what would this reviling priest have? Would he make of New
-  England another Ireland or Spain, another infidel France or
-  Italy? What would he have us do? Blot out our public schools,
-  take the Bible from the hands of our people, subject their
-  consciences to the priests, establish the inquisition, raise up
-  a generation of Christians like those of his church who hung
-  the negroes to the lamp-posts in New York, and roll back this
-  land into the old night of the middle ages, when Rome sat like
-  a nightmare upon all the peoples of Christendom? Does this
-  priest suppose that our people will swallow such stuff as was
-  offered them at the Music Hall? The common school has not
-  diffused general intelligence here for two hundred and fifty
-  years, that our people should need to go to a Catholic
-  schoolmaster to learn their own history, or the history of that
-  church which has made an Ireland and a Spain.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-                                   "Puritan."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-We do not expect that such a dense darkness of ignorance and
-prejudice as that which exists in the Protestant world will be
-immediately dispelled by the light which will radiate from the
-city of God through the council of bishops assembled about their
-august chief, the vicar of Jesus Christ. We have reason to expect
-a great number of conversions, among those who are already
-partially enlightened, as its immediate result, and the more
-zealous and successful prosecution of the work of bringing back
-all nations to the fold of truth and grace as its effect during a
-long period to come.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_365">{365}</a></span>
-But, no doubt, the greater number of those who are thoroughly
-committed to the anti-Catholic cause will persevere to the last
-in their hostility, and retain for a long time a multitude of
-followers under their influence. It is useless to argue with such
-men in the hope of convincing or converting them. They will be
-forced, however, to meet the Catholic question fairly and
-squarely, and no longer be able to hide themselves behind vague
-platitudes and unmeaning generalities. They will be obliged,
-also, to give account of their own systems, whatever they may be,
-which they put forward as substitutes for the Catholic religion,
-and thus undergo the crucial tests of logic, history, and
-critical science. For ourselves, we cannot doubt for a moment
-that, as the ultimate result, everything like orthodox or
-positive Protestantism will be ground into dust between the two
-opposing forces of Catholicity and infidelity, leaving the great
-contest to be waged between these two. In regard to this last
-great issue we venture to make no prognostics. There are reasons
-both for fear and for hope; but the only course for us to pursue
-is to aim for as much good as possible, leaving the rest with
-God. That a crisis approaches in the conflict between the
-universal divine order and universal lawlessness, between the
-church and the world, that is, the wicked world or concrete mass
-of all false and wicked principles, the <i>mundus positus in
-malignos</i>, of which the apostle speaks; and that this crisis
-will be hastened and materially affected by the council, cannot
-be doubted. We desire to impress, therefore, upon all the really
-sincere and upright lovers of truth and Christianity, the
-importance of their paying careful attention to the doings of
-this council and of looking to correct sources for their
-information.
-</p>
-<p>
-All Catholics must look forward to the council with sentiments of
-the most profound veneration and ardent expectation of the
-incalculable good which it will produce in the bosom of the
-church. An ecumenical council is the representative Catholic
-Church, the entire episcopate with its head and supreme bishop,
-the highest tribunal on earth, with plenary authority to define
-doctrines and enact laws, with the spiritual presence of Jesus
-Christ in the midst of it, and the plenitude of the Holy Spirit
-to enlighten and assist its deliberations and judgments;
-infallible in all its decrees respecting faith and morals,
-sovereign in all its enactments, with full power to bind all
-minds and consciences to an implicit and unreserved obedience in
-the name of God. The church is always infallible, and is
-perpetually teaching the faith and the rule of morals; the holy
-see is always invested with authority to decide controversies and
-make laws; and is competent to make even definitions of faith, to
-which the assent of the dispersed bishops gives the same force of
-concurrent judgment which their conciliar action possesses.
-Nevertheless, the pope with the episcopate assembled in
-ecumenical council can do more than when they are dispersed. The
-gift of active infallibility is in a higher and more intense
-exercise, because the common intellect and will of the church is
-prepared by common counsel and communion to receive a more
-abundant illumination and vivification of the Holy Spirit. It is
-by the councils, from that of Nice to that of Trent, that
-heretics have been condemned, and the clear, explicit definitions
-of the faith once delivered to the saints have been made. The
-council of the Vatican will possess the same infallible authority
-with that which met at Jerusalem under St. Peter, or that which
-at under the presidency of the legates of St. Sylvester,
-condemned the Arian heresy and defined the Son to be
-consubstantial with the Father.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_366">{366}</a></span>
-This august tribunal will therefore have full power to terminate
-all controversies and differences among Catholics in regard to
-which it shall judge that the interests of the faith and the
-well-being of the church require a definite judgment to be made.
-The result will be both a more perfect concordance in doctrine
-and principles of action, regarding all the matters which will be
-decided, and a more perfect recognition of liberty in reference
-to all opinions which are left as open questions. That this will
-be a great gain no truly loyal Catholic can doubt. Another result
-to be expected is a more precise, definite, and uniform system of
-ecclesiastical law and administration, providing a more perfect
-adjustment of all the multiform relations of the church and her
-hierarchy. Those portions of the church which are in an apathetic
-and torpid state we may hope will be roused up; a multitude of
-sluggish and unfaithful Catholics become reanimated with the
-spirit of faith; and the unity, sanctity, catholicity, and
-apostolicity of the church&mdash;the immortality of her life, the
-divine authority of her teaching, the irresistible and universal
-power of that spirit which is in her&mdash;be manifested with a
-brightness which will make for ever glorious the close of the
-nineteenth century, whose opening was so very dark and
-inauspicious.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-               <h2>St. Mary's.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-If there is one spot in our country to which the American
-Catholic turns with special interest, it is certainly to the
-landing-place of Lord Baltimore's colony in Maryland and the site
-of St. Mary's City. New Englanders are never weary of boasting of
-"our pilgrim forefathers," who landed on Plymouth Rock to obtain
-freedom to worship God according to their own peculiar notions.
-To have an ancestor who came over in the Mayflower is equivalent
-to a patent of nobility&mdash;it sets the fortunate individual above
-his fellows, and makes him a member of a caste truly Brahminical.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Catholic can turn with far greater pride to those spiritual
-forefathers who, with no self-righteousness, sought in the new
-world not only liberty of conscience, but allowed it to others;
-who were so just in their dealings with the natives that they
-never took an inch of land without paying for it; and who, by
-their Christian kindness, won over so many of the Indians to
-genuine Christianity. We truly have reason to say,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Ay, call it holy ground
-   The soil where first they trod!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-I had always wished to visit this consecrated spot so dear to the
-Catholic heart, and embraced the first convenient opportunity of
-doing so. I rode down from Leonardtown during the pleasant Indian
-summer time.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_367">{367}</a></span>
-My most vivid remembrance of the ride is of passing over a
-frequent succession of what my Aunt Pilcher used to call
-"sarvent-madams."&mdash;a sudden depression, as if be tween two logs,
-which unceremoniously pitched you forward in the carriage and
-then brought you up with a sudden jerk, thus forcing you to make
-an impromptu bow which gave point to the pleasant name of
-"sarvent-madams." This sort of exercise may be novel, but a
-continuation of it is not at all amusing, and I was glad when,
-after a ride of about twenty miles, we emerged from a woody path,
-crossed a stream, and found ourselves on the high plain where
-once stood the city of St. Mary. One is surprised&mdash;pained&mdash;to
-find not one stone left upon another of that settlement. When the
-seat of government was removed, nature resumed her sway and
-avenged herself for the ravages of man by obliterating most of
-his traces and reclothing the place with her own freshness and
-beauty. There are now a few dwellings belonging to the farmer who
-owns this historic site, a barnlike church belonging to the
-Episcopalians, said to have been built of the ruins of the old
-state-house, and a large brick building that stands dreary and
-treeless, looking like a factory, but which is really a seminary
-for young ladies, the monument erected by the Maryland
-legislature to commemorate the landing of the first colonists! It
-would be an excellent place for a convent of Carthusians; but to
-banish lively girls to this lonely region, lovely though it be,
-so far from any town, several miles from the post-office, and
-with no literary advantages, must have been the conception of
-some malicious and dyspeptic old bachelor. The young are rarely
-lovers of nature. Those whose souls have been chastened and
-weaned from the world alone find a balm therein. It is a great
-defect in the training of our youth that they are not made more
-observant of natural objects. Insects, vegetation, the very
-stones beneath the feet, are a source of unceasing pleasure to
-the heart in sympathy with nature in all her infinite variety.
-But this requires teachers who are capable of opening to youth
-the great treasure-house of nature. It is not always the most
-intellectual people who are the most fond of the country. Madame
-de Staël preferred living in the fourth story of a house on the
-Rue du Bac in Paris to a villa on the enchanted shores of Lake
-Geneva. And Dr. Johnson thought there was no view that equalled
-the high tide of human beings at Charing Cross.
-</p>
-<p>
-This seminary is intended to educate the young ladies of
-prevailing religious sects of the country, each of which is
-represented by a teacher. I have understood that at times there
-have been serious conflicts between those who were for Paul and
-those who were for Apollos; but this is not at all surprising in
-a place where they must be driven to desperation for a little
-excitement. The only church near is the Episcopal, where the
-services are very intermittent indeed, which obliges the teachers
-to play the part of chaplain.
-</p>
-<p>
-This uninviting church is in a yard full of old graves, shaded by
-clumps of hollies and gloomy cedars. There is a venerable old
-mulberry-tree in the midst, now quite decayed, but still putting
-forth a few leafy branches, said to have been planted (a twig
-from old England) by Leonard Calvert's own hands. There is a
-tradition that he was buried in this yard&mdash;perhaps near his tree,
-familiarly known as Lord Baltimore's tree&mdash;but there is nothing
-to indicate the precise spot. It is more probable that he was
-buried near the Catholic church, which was about a quarter of a
-mile farther down.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_368">{368}</a></span>
-Relic lovers have nearly killed this venerable tree, by cutting
-out pieces for canes, crosses, etc. Passing through the grassy
-graveyard, and descending a steep bank, you come to a narrow line
-of sand, a miniature beach on the shore of St. Mary's River, the
-place where the colony landed. The water is as salt as the sea,
-and the broad river deep enough for the Dove and the Ark to
-anchor. A gentle ripple came up over the yellow sand and
-crystalline pebbles. The broad expanse of water lay like a lake,
-with undulating hills in the background all covered with woods in
-their gorgeous autumn foliage. The whole scene was as calm and
-peaceful as if these waters had never been disturbed by Indian
-canoe or white man's craft.
-</p>
-<p>
-A quarter of a mile south of the seminary was a turnip-field,
-where once stood the church the colonists hastened to build. You
-would not imagine you stood on consecrated ground where holy
-rites were once performed. This was not the place where the holy
-sacrifice was first offered. Their first chapel was an Indian
-wigwam, which a friendly native gave up to Father White; for the
-colonists founded an Indian village here which owned the pacific
-rule of King Yaocomico, and established themselves in peace
-beside it. Opposite the place where the church stood, and east of
-it, are some traces of the lord proprietary's residence. The old
-cellar is nearly filled with rubbish, in which are found
-fragments of crockery and bricks&mdash;bricks brought from the old
-country. There were grand doings here once. Hilarity and
-merriment had their hours in that miniature court, amid those of
-grave deliberations. But, at last, Pallida Mors, "that at every
-door knocks," came in the train, and brought mourning to all the
-settlers; for here died Leonard Calvert. He was nursed in his
-last moments by his relatives Margaret and Mary Brent. He died on
-the 9th of June, 1647. The place of his burial is not known. In
-these days of woman's rights, it may not be amiss to recall the
-first woman in this country, perhaps, who asserted her claim to
-share the privileges of the stronger sex. Margaret Brent was
-appointed by Governor Calvert his sole administratrix, which is
-certainly a proof of her capacity for business. By virtue of this
-appointment she claimed to be the attorney of the lord
-proprietor. Her claims were admitted by the council. She then
-appeared in the general assembly, and claimed the right to vote
-as Lord Baltimore's representative. This was not permitted. She
-was a large land-owner, and displayed her energy in laying out
-her estates; and she quelled a mutiny among some Virginia
-soldiers who had served under Leonard Calvert. It is surprising
-the strong-minded women of this day have not brought forward this
-fine precedent, who has been ranked with the famous Margaret of
-Parma, regent of the Netherlands. Let us hope, with all her fine
-abilities, that she retained her sweet womanly ways and that
-modesty which is the charm of her sex. I fancy she did, or she
-would never have subdued those early representatives of the
-gallant Virginia chivalry.
-</p>
-<p>
-Close by the lord proprietary's place is a spot charming enough
-for Egeria. It is a spring of delicious water bubbling up from
-the rocks, that flows off in a streamlet, over tufts of the
-thickest and greenest moss. It is shaded by a dense clump of
-cedars and holly bushes&mdash;-a fit haunt for the dryades and all the
-sylvan deities. The warm noontide air was fanned into this cool
-and leafy bower, where the birds still sang and insects floated,
-bringing with it a certain aroma from the crushed leaves of the
-wood.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_369">{369}</a></span>
-From a distance came the measured cadence of some negro song,
-snatched up at the hour of noonday rest, which harmonized with
-the spot and the atmosphere. There is always an undertone of
-melancholy in the gayest songs of the colored race which lulls
-the heart, as sorrow underlies all gayety in the heart of man. It
-was a place to be alone with nature, poetry, God, and just the
-spot for an old hermit to set up his cell, and pass his days in
-sympathy with nature and in communion with nature's God.
-</p>
-<p>
-With all its beauty, this plain of St. Mary's is full of
-melancholy, especially in the fall of the year. Haunted with
-memories, its loneliness is in such contrast with its past
-history that it touches the spring of regret. The autumn winds,
-the slight veil of haze that hangs over the landscape, are full
-of sadness. One seems to hear the wail of the forsaken lares
-whose altars have so long been levelled with the rest.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-      "In consecrated earth,
-       And on the holy hearth,
-  The lares and lemures moan with midnight plaint."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The wailings of Jeremiah come to mind as we wander over the site
-of the city that was once full of people, but now sitteth
-solitary. "The city of thy sanctuary is become a desert, and the
-house of thy holiness and our glory, wherein thou wert praised,
-is laid desolate." Perhaps, after all, the melancholy was in my
-own heart; for the sky was clear, the earth smiling, and before
-us lay, glad and gleaming, the bright waters of the St. Mary's
-river,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Like any fair lake that the breeze is upon,
-   When it breaks into dimples and laughs in the sun."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-There is this peculiarity about the river: its windings are so
-abrupt that from certain points there seems to be no outlet, and
-it has the appearance of a succession of lakelets; pellucid gems
-set at this autumn time in bosses enamelled with every shade of
-crimson and gold, which I loved to think a bright rosary strung
-by nature in honor of Our Lady.
-</p>
-<p>
-Two or three miles from St. Mary's is Rose Croft, a charming old
-place at the very point between St. Inigoes Creek and St. Mary's
-River. In old colonial times it was the residence of the
-collector of the port of St. Mary's, and here lived the heroine
-of Kennedy's <i>Rob of the Bowl</i>. As I rode up to it, I half
-expected to see the fair Blanche peeping out of the window to see
-if the carriage did not contain the secretary.
-</p>
-<p>
-The house is a low, broad one, with verandas and porches, and
-large, airy rooms, which look out upon a lovely water view. There
-is a good deal of wainscoting about it, and some carvings in the
-large parlor that witnessed the birthday festivities. The lady of
-the house told me that, in making some repairs, a few years ago,
-a ring and a pair of velvet slippers were found, perhaps once
-worn by Blanche. All around the yard grows spontaneously the
-passion flower, winding over every shrub and tree, and trailing
-along the ground. Everything was left very much to nature, and
-she had thrown over the grounds a certain sad grace of her own,
-which harmonized with the antiquity of the house, and the echo of
-past times that lingered in its rooms. A spruce garden and
-well-trimmed trees and shrubbery would have ill accorded with
-such a spot. And there was a certain melancholy in the large, sad
-eyes of the mistress of this charming place that spoke more of
-the past than of the present, as if she had imbibed something of
-its spirit.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_370">{370}</a></span>
-<p>
-On the point between the river and creek, opposite Rose Croft, is
-St. Inigoes manor-house, belonging to the Jesuit fathers. St.
-Inigo, or St. Ignatius, was considered, from the first, as one of
-the patrons of the colony. This house is built of brick brought
-from the old country, perhaps two hundred years ago or more. It
-has quite a foreign look, with its high pitched roof and dormer
-windows. I have seen similar houses in the valley of the Loire.
-At a distance it looks, as Kennedy says, like a chateau with its
-dependencies around it. There is a huge windmill at the very
-point, around which are washed up fine black sand and some spiral
-shells. On the gable of the southern porch of the mansion is the
-holy name of Jesus, in large black letters&mdash;the cognizance of the
-Jesuits. The yard is a garden of roses. They grow in bushes,
-cover the cottages, and climb the trees, blooming often as late
-as Christmas tide. And the whole place is like an aviary&mdash;a
-rendezvous of all the martins, wrens, whippoorwills, etc., of the
-country&mdash;the very place for poor Miss Flite, who would never have
-found names enough for them. There are martin-houses, dove-cotes,
-and trees full of the American mocking-birds. When the windows of
-the chapel are open in the morning, it is filled with their
-musical variations, and with the perfume of the roses and
-honeysuckles. That chapel always seemed to me a little corner of
-heaven itself, full of the divine presence of which one never
-wearies. I often betook myself to that sweet solitude. There were
-memories that haunted me, an image between me and God, which I
-sought there to consecrate to him. I loved to think the little
-lamp could be seen all night from the very Potomac and miles up
-the St. Mary's River; perhaps lighting up in some dark and sinful
-soul some sweet thought of him before whom it burned.
-</p>
-<p>
-A religious air prevails at St. Inigoes. Everything is quiet and
-subdued, and favorable to meditation. The day commences with Mass
-in the chapel. The Angelus is rung three times a day, which every
-one kneels to say. Even Nimrod, the dog, howls while it is
-ringing, as if infected by devotion. And they told me his
-predecessor would pull at the bell till it sounded, if it was not
-rung at the moment. Such devotional dogs certainly deserve a
-place&mdash;if it is not profane to say so&mdash;among those fine little
-dogs whom Luther declared would be among our companions in
-heaven, whose every hair would be tipped with precious stones and
-whose collars be of diamonds.[Footnote 86]
-</p>
-<p  class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 86: See Audin's <i>Life of Luther</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Everything about the house is extremely tidy and well preserved,
-the garden trim, the walks swept, the whole house a temple of
-purity and cleanliness. One could sit for ever in that southern
-porch reading and dreaming life away. Thought would flow on for
-ever with that current whose waters are as changeable in their
-aspect as our own varied moods. When so many live merely for the
-body, why should not some live for the imagination and fancy?
-This is the very place for Mr. Skimpole, who had no idea of time,
-no idea of money; who only wished to live, to have a little sun
-and air, and float about like a butterfly from flower to flower;
-who loved to see the sun shine, hear the wind blow, watch the
-changing lights and shadows, and hear the birds sing. He asked of
-society only to feed him, to give him a landscape, music, papers,
-mutton, coffee, and to leave him at peace from the sordid
-realities of the world.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_371">{371}</a></span>
-<p>
-In the dining-room is a large oval table of solid oak which once
-belonged to the house of the lord proprietary. It is not
-misplaced in this hospitable house. Daniel Webster, when at Piney
-Point, used to sail over to St. Inigoes and sit at Leonard
-Calvert's table. And he taught the cook how to make a genuine New
-England chowder.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is, hung up in one of the rooms, a picture of the famous
-Prince Hohenlohe which interested me. I could not account for its
-being there till I learned that Father Carberry, a former
-incumbent, was a brother to Mrs. Mattingly, of Washington, who so
-many years ago was miraculously cured by the prayers of the holy
-prince&mdash;an occurrence that caused a great excitement at the time.
-</p>
-<p>
-The parish church is about a half a mile from the manor-house. On
-Sundays and other festivals you can see boats full of people
-sailing up the creek. Others come flocking in on horseback or in
-carriages. A graveyard surrounds the church, which is so hid
-among the trees that it is not perceived till you are close upon
-it. The yard is filled before service with the country-people,
-who fasten their horses around the enclosure, and stand talking
-in groups, or go wandering around among the grassy mounds,
-reminding you of the English country church-yards. Our northern
-churches are almost so exclusively filled up with foreigners that
-it seemed strange to worship in a congregation almost wholly
-American. A gallery was appropriated to the colored people, and
-it was crowded. They seemed quite devout and kept up a great
-rattling with their large rosaries. I noticed that the father, in
-preaching, was careful to make them feel that his sermon was
-addressed as particularly to them as to the others. I was
-especially interested to see the number that came filing down the
-aisle to receive holy communion. Sunday after Sunday it was the
-same, and I was always affected to see these "images of God
-carved in ebony," as old Fuller calls them, at the holy table to
-receive Him who is no respecter of persons. In talking with the
-father about their devotional tendencies, he told me there was
-one saintly old negro who walked fifteen miles every Sunday to
-worship the Word made flesh. What an example to the cold and
-lukewarm in cities who daily pass our churches with scarcely a
-thought of the Presence within! This little church is a
-substantial one of brick, with arched windows, but no pretension
-as to architecture. When the services were over, the ladies all
-followed the priest into the sacristy to pay their respects to
-him, and there is a pleasant exchange of greetings which is
-pleasing and family-like. And many of the men, too, stroll around
-the building to the rear door to take part in it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Wandering off into the churchyard, I came upon a large cross
-around which were clustered the graves of several priests. There
-is a large monument to the memory of Father Carberry, a genial
-old priest renowned throughout the country for his hospitality.
-Among those buried here is Mr. Daniel Barber, of New Hampshire,
-who became a convert to the Catholic Church, together with his
-son's whole family, at a time when converts were more rare than
-at the present time. The son, Rev. Virgil Barber, who was an
-Episcopal minister, with his wife and five children, embraced the
-religious life. One of the latter took the white veil at Mount
-Benedict, near Boston, and was remarkable for her beauty and
-accomplishments. She made her profession in Quebec, where she
-died young.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_372">{372}</a></span>
-I have heard a nun of that house tell, and with great feeling, of
-her descending every morning to the chapel before the rest of the
-community, even in the rigorous winter of that latitude, to make
-the Way of the Cross, that touching devotion to the suffering
-Saviour.
-</p>
-<p>
-The grandfather, Mr. Daniel Barber, who was also a minister, only
-took deacons' orders in the church on account of his age. He
-loved to visit the old Catholic families of St. Mary's, but was
-ill pleased when he did not find the cross&mdash;the sign of our
-salvation&mdash;in the apartment. "Where's your sign?" he would
-abruptly ask. He rests in peace in this quiet country
-church-yard.
-</p>
-<p>
-The father at St. Inigoes has to possess a variety of
-accomplishments not acquired in the theological seminary. Priest,
-farmer, horseman, and boatman must all be combined to form the
-fine specimen of muscular Christianity required in this extensive
-mission. The place is no sinecure.
-</p>
-<p>
-Good Father Thomas, obliged to visit a sick person at the very
-head of St. Mary's River, invited me to accompany him, and I
-gladly did so. Two colored servants went to manage the sail, or
-to row if necessary. The boat was black as a gondola of Venice.
-Sailing over these waters, where passed the Dove and the Ark,
-reminded me of the Père Jean and the novice René on the St.
-Lawrence. The whole country was, as we set out, glorified by the
-setting sun. The long points of land around which the river wound
-were bathed on one side by a golden mist, and on the other in a
-faint lilac. Over the gorgeous woods hung a purple haze that
-faded every instant. The amber clouds grew crimson, and then
-faded away into grey. The father said his breviary, leaving me to
-my own reflections a part of the way. There was not a ripple on
-the broad sheet save the receding ones left by our boat. Now and
-then we would stop to drink in the beauty of the scene&mdash;the sky,
-the water which reflected it, the lights and shadows on the
-banks, the melancholy cry of the whippoorwill, and the gay sounds
-of the laborers just through with their day's work. As it grew
-darker, the deep coves were filled with mysterious shades; the
-ripples left behind seemed tipped with a phosphorescent light. We
-glided at last into a sheltered cove just as the moon came out,
-giving enchantment to the whole scene. In such bright waters
-bathed Diana when Actaeon beheld her and was punished for his
-presumption. One of us repeated the beautiful lines of Shelley:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "My soul is an enchanted boat,
-   Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float
-   Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing;
-     And thine doth like an angel sit
-     Beside the helm conducting it,
-   Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing.
-     It seems to float ever, for ever
-     Upon that many winding river,
-     Between mountains, woods, abysses,
-     A paradise of wildernesses!
-   Till, like one in slumber bound,
-   Borne to the ocean, I float down, around,
-   Into a sea profound, of ever-spreading sound."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-A few days after, I sailed over to the Pavilion to take a boat
-for Washington.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_373">{373}</a></span>
-<br>
-              <h2>A May Carol.</h2>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  She hid her face from Joseph's blame,
-    The Spirit's glory-shrouded bride.
-  The Sword comes next; but first the Shame:
-    Meekly she bore, and naught replied.
-
-  For mutual sympathies we live:
-    The outraged heart forgives, but dies:
-  To her, that wound was sanative,
-    For life to her was sacrifice.
-
-  At us no random shaft is thrown
-    When charged with crimes by us unwrought;
-  For sins unchallenged, sins unknown,
-    Too oft have stained us&mdash;act and thought.
-
-  In past or present she could find
-    No sin to weep for; yet, no less,
-  Deeplier that hour the sense was shrined,
-    In her, of her own nothingness.
-
-  That hour foundations deeper yet
-    God sank in her; that so more high
-  Her greatness&mdash;spire and parapet&mdash;
-    Might rise, and nearer to the sky:
-
-  That, wholly overbuilt by grace,
-    Nature might vanish, like some isle
-  In great towers lost&mdash;the buried base
-    Of some surpassing fortress pile.
-
-                            Aubrey De Vere.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_374">{374}</a></span>
-
-      <h2>St. Peter, First Bishop of Rome.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-The question of which we purpose to treat in this article is one
-of those that are sure to receive prominence whenever the claims
-of the Roman see are discussed with more than ordinary interest
-and warmth. Just now the "Anglo-Catholic" mind is exercised to
-find some way of establishing the existence of a one holy
-catholic and apostolic church, without admitting the supremacy of
-the bishop of Rome; besides, the approaching ecumenical council
-directs men's attention to the eternal city, and the high
-prerogatives of its pontiffs. Not unfrequently we meet with a
-broad denial that St. Peter ever was at Rome at all, or at least
-that he was ever bishop of Rome. This is not, indeed, the course
-pursued by the most learned or thoughtful amongst our opponents;
-they know history too well to stake their reputation for
-erudition or fairness on any such denial; but it is in favor with
-a lower or less instructed class of minds, and is adopted in
-text-books for theological seminaries, as well as in some popular
-works intended chiefly for the perusal of persons who, in all
-likelihood, may never have the opportunity, even should they have
-the inclination, of recurring to those more learned authorities
-by consulting whom the imposture would soon be detected. Thus it
-has come to pass that in popular works, lectures, magazine and
-newspaper articles, and the like, one frequently meets with the
-flippant assertion that it is very doubtful whether St. Peter
-ever was at Rome, that the place of his death is uncertain; all
-that we know for certain being that, shortly before his demise,
-he was in Babylon, whence he wrote his first letter. We shall
-endeavor to establish as a historical truth beyond all reasonable
-doubt, supported by evidence that must be admitted as sufficient
-by any unprejudiced critic, that St. Peter visited Rome, dwelt
-there, was first bishop of the Roman church, and there, together
-with St. Paul, laid down his life for his Master, in fulfilment
-of the latter's prophecy, "When thou wilt be old, thou wilt
-stretch forth thy hands, and another will gird thee, and lead
-thee whither thou wouldst not;" words which, as the inspired
-writer tells us, signified "by what death he should glorify God."
-[Footnote 87]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 87: John xxi. 18.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The question has been so fully discussed, that we may not hope to
-say anything that will be considered new; to the learned reader,
-indeed, we can but repeat a "thrice-told tale;" but, as the
-adversaries of the holy see do not disdain to furbish up the arms
-which have already been stricken from the hands of their
-predecessors, we shall be content to draw from the same arsenals
-whence our fathers drew the weapons that they knew how to wield
-so skilfully and successfully. All that we ask of the
-non-Catholic reader is, that he approach the question as a merely
-historical one, to be judged on the ordinary rules of historical
-evidence. All dogmatical preoccupations against the supremacy of
-the Roman pontiffs should be laid aside.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_375">{375}</a></span>
-This is demanded by fairness and a sincere love of truth;
-besides, although we acknowledge that to establish St. Peter's
-Roman bishopric is, if not an indispensable, at least a very
-important, preliminary to the successful assertion of the Roman
-primacy, yet the ablest amongst Protestant theologians have
-thought that, even admitting the historical fact, they could
-successfully refute the dogma. Our inquiry, then, shall be purely
-historical, to be decided on purely historical grounds. At the
-beginning of this century, no one having any pretensions to
-historical learning attempted to deny that St. Peter had really
-lived and died at Rome. Such high names in the Anglican Church as
-Cave, Pearson, and Dodwell had given their unbiassed and positive
-testimony to the truth. Whiston had said: "That St. Peter was at
-Rome is so clear in Christian antiquity, that it is a shame for a
-Protestant to confess that any Protestant ever denied it." But,
-about this period, the rage for the new system of biblical
-interpretation raised doubts about the accepted meaning of the
-word <i>Babylon</i> in the thirteenth verse of the fifth chapter
-of the first epistle of St. Peter, and the question whether the
-apostle ever was at Rome again came up for discussion. Very
-little new has been said, so that little remains to be confuted.
-We repeat, we have merely to sum up what has been well and
-conclusively said before. We have before us a work entitled <i>An
-Exposition of the Thirty-nine Articles, Historical and
-Doctrinal</i>, by Edward Harold Browne, lord bishop of Ely, in
-which [Footnote 88] the author endeavors to confute "the position
-of the Roman Church, that St. Peter was bishop of Rome."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 88: Art. xxxvii. sec. II.]
-</p>
-<p>
-As this work is used as a text-book in the New York Protestant
-Episcopal Seminary, and may, therefore, be supposed to furnish
-ideas and facts on church questions to the average Episcopalian
-clerical  mind, we shall follow the author in his argument, and
-show how a plain tale can put down all his ingenious explanations
-and evasions.
-</p>
-<p>
-The plain statement is as follows: The earliest and most reliable
-documents of Christian antiquity, with a clearness and unanimity
-that leave no room for doubt or cavil, state that St. Peter was
-at Rome, took a special care of the Roman Church, and died there.
-The bishops of Rome are always represented as his successors, not
-merely in that inheritance which has come down to all bishops
-from the apostles, but as his successors in his <i>Cathedra</i>,
-or episcopal chair. Our witnesses are numerous; their knowledge
-and fidelity are unimpeachable; their statements cannot be evaded
-or explained away; and thus the Roman bishopric of St. Peter is
-as undoubted a fact of ecclesiastical history as any other in the
-earlier ages. We shall give the proofs one by one, confining
-ourselves to the first three centuries.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Clement, who was certainly bishop of Rome, and who, according
-to Tertullian was ordained by Peter, in his epistle to the
-Corinthians&mdash;admitted as genuine by the best
-authorities&mdash;referring to the late persecution of the Roman
-Church under Nero, mentions among other troubles the recent
-martyrdom of SS. Peter and Paul, alleging them as noble examples
-of patience under tribulation. We have here a witness on the
-spot, who had seen the apostles, and been a special disciple of
-St. Peter.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have next another apostolic father, St. Ignatius of Antioch,
-who suffered martyrdom about A.D. 107, and in a letter to the
-Romans speaks of SS. Peter and Paul as their special preceptors
-and masters: "I do not command you as Peter and Paul; I am a
-condemned man."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_376">{376}</a></span>
-It is to be remarked that no one attempts to deny that St. Paul
-was at Rome, as one of his journeys thither is related in the
-last chapter of the Acts, and he speaks of himself as in that
-city; [Footnote 89] the union of St. Peter's name with his, as
-both commanding the Romans, shows that the former apostle had
-been with them in person as well as Paul.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 89: 2 Tim. i. 17. This letter would seem to have
-    been written not long before the apostle's death. See ch. iv.
-    6,7.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Papias, Bishop of Hierapolis, probably a disciple of St. John the
-Apostle, as quoted by Eusebius, says that St. Mark wrote his
-gospel from the preaching of St. Peter at Rome, [Footnote 90] and
-that the apostle wrote his first letter from the same place,
-calling it Babylon. [Footnote 91]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 90: <i>Eus. Hist. Eccl.</i> lib. iii. c..39.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 91: <i>Ibid</i>. lib. iii. c. I.]
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Dionysius of Corinth wrote a letter to the Roman Church under
-the pontificate of Soter, (A.D. 151-170,) which is also quoted by
-Eusebius, [Footnote 92] in which he says that SS. Peter and Paul,
-after planting the faith at Corinth, went into Italy, planted the
-faith amongst the Romans, and there sealed their testimony with
-their blood.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 92: <i>Ibid</i>. lib. ii. c. 25.]
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Irenaeus, (Bishop of Lyons A.D. 178,) a disciple of Polycarp,
-who was himself a hearer of the Apostle John, speaks of the Roman
-Church as "the greatest and most ancient church, known to all,
-founded and established at Rome by the two most glorious
-apostles, Peter and Paul. [Footnote 93]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 93: Lib. iii. <i>adv. Har.</i> c. iii.]
-</p>
-<p>
-He adds: "The blessed apostles having founded and arranged the
-church, delivered its bishopric and administration to Linus. To
-him succeeded Anacletus, after him Clement, to him Evaristus, and
-to Evaristus, Alexander. The sixth from the apostles was Sixtus,
-after him Telesphorus, next Hyginus; then Pius, after whom came
-Anicetus. Soter succeeded Anicetus, and now the bishopric is held
-by Eleutherius, the twelfth from the apostles." This is an
-authentic list of the bishops of Rome from the apostles to the
-writer's time, placing the date of his work between A.D. 170 and
-185, the fifteen years of the pontificate of Eleutherius.
-</p>
-<p>
-Cajus, a priest of Rome under Zephyrinus, who governed the church
-during the first seventeen years of the third century, says, in a
-work quoted by Eusebius, [Footnote 94] but now lost: "I can show
-you the trophies of the apostles; for whether we go to the
-Vatican or the Ostian way, we shall meet with the trophies of the
-founders of this church." This is remarkable testimony to the
-accuracy of the tradition that prevails to this day of the places
-where the apostles were buried&mdash;St. Peter at the Vatican, St.
-Paul in the Ostian way, which now are marked by "trophies,"
-greater in splendor and magnificence, but raised by the same
-spirit of reverence and love as those which this Roman priest
-pointed out in the third century.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 94: <i>Ibid</i>. lib. ii. c. 15.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Tertullian flourished about the same period, for he died A.D.
-216. Speaking in his great work <i>On Prescriptions</i> [Footnote
-95] of apostolic churches, he says: "If you are near Italy, you
-have Rome, whence we also [the African Church] derive our origin.
-How happy is this church on which the apostles poured forth their
-whole doctrine with their blood; where Peter by his martyrdom is
-made like the Lord; where Paul is crowned with a wreath like that
-of John!" Again: "Let us see &hellip; what the Romans proclaim in our
-ears, they to whom Peter and Paul left the Gospel sealed with
-their blood." [Footnote 96]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 95: C. 36.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 96: Lib. iv. adv. <i>Marcion</i>.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_377">{377}</a></span>
-<p>
-And speaking in the book <i>On Prescriptions</i> of the origin of
-apostolic churches, he calls on heretics to "unfold the series of
-their bishops, coming down from the beginning in succession, so
-that the first bishop was appointed and preceded by any one of
-the apostles, or apostolic men in communion with the apostles.
-[Footnote 97] For in this way the apostolic churches exhibit
-their origin; &hellip; as the Church of Rome relates that Clement was
-ordained by Peter." [Footnote 98] Clement of Alexandria (who died
-A.D. 222) states that St. Paul wrote his gospel at the request of
-the Romans, who wished to have a written record of what they had
-heard from St. Peter. [Footnote 99]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 97: "Ut primus ille episcopus aliquem ex Apostolis
-    habuerit auctorum et antecessorem." ]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 98: Ch. 32.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 99: Eus. <i>Hist. Eccl</i>. lib. vi. c. 14. ]
-</p>
-<p>
-Origen, (A.D. 185-255,) who visited Rome under the pontificate of
-Zephyrinus, says that St. Peter having preached to the Jews in
-Pontus, Galatia, Bithynia, Cappadocia, and Asia, toward the end
-of his life [Footnote 100] came to Rome, and was crucified with
-his head downward. [Footnote 101]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 100:<img class="txtimg" alt="[Greek text" src="images/377.jpg">]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 101: Quoted by Eusebius, <i>Hist. Eccl</i>. lib.
-    iii. C. II.]
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Cyprian, (Bishop of Carthage A.D. 248, put to death for the
-faith A.D. 258,) speaking of the irregular proceedings of some
-local schismatics who had appealed to Pope Cornelius, says: "They
-venture to set sail, and carry letters from schismatical and
-profane men to the <i>chair of Peter</i>, and to the principal
-church, whence sacerdotal unity has arisen." [Footnote 102] And
-in another letter he speaks of the election of Cornelius, "when
-the place of Fabian, that is, the place of Peter, and the rank of
-the priestly chair, was vacant." [Footnote 103] Even Bishop
-Hopkins, whom his friends cannot blame for too great facility in
-his concessions, admits that St. Cyprian acknowledged that St.
-Peter was bishop of Rome.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 102: <i>Epist</i>. 59, ad <i>Cornel</i>.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 103: <i>Epist</i>. 52, ad Antonianum.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We do not wish to go beyond the three hundred years immediately
-following the death of the apostle, and shall therefore omit here
-the clear and unmistakable statements of Optatus, Jerome,
-Epiphanius, Augustine, and others, closing with the account given
-by Eusebius of Caesarea, (bishop A.D. 315-340,) who is justly
-regarded as the father of ecclesiastical history, and of the
-greatest weight in historical matters. His accuracy and research
-are universally acknowledged, and his authority alone is
-generally regarded as conclusive. [Footnote 104] He says that
-Simon Magus went to Rome, and that "against this bane of mankind,
-the most merciful and kind Providence conducted to Rome Peter,
-the most courageous and the greatest among the apostles, who on
-account of his virtue was leader of all." [Footnote 105] He adds
-in his chronicle: "Having first founded the Church of Antioch, he
-goes to Rome, where, preaching the gospel, he continues
-twenty-five years bishop of the same city."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 104:  "In questions of critical investigation
-    regarding the early church, no writer bears with him greater
-    authority than that of the learned Eusebius, bishop of
-    Caesarea. Removed only by two hundred years from the
-    apostolic times, and being attached to the imperial court,
-    and having at his command all the literary treasures of the
-    Caesarean library, he ever displays a profound knowledge of
-    the earlier Christian writers, and at the same time a truly
-    refined critical acumen in discriminating between their
-    genuine productions and those falsely assigned to them."
-    &mdash;<i>Dublin Review</i>, June,1858, art. vii.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 105: <i>Hist. Eccl.</i> lib. ii. c. xiv.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We have here a continuous series of witnesses, from those who had
-seen and conversed with the Apostle St. Peter to the date of the
-first work on ecclesiastical history now extant, all of whom
-clearly testify to the fact that he visited Rome, took special
-charge of the Roman Church, and there died a martyr, as our Lord
-had foretold he would die. After the apostolic writers, who, from
-the proximity of the events to their own time, could not be
-mistaken, the most important witnesses are Irenaeus and Origen,
-Tertullian and Cyprian.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_378">{378}</a></span>
-The two former had visited Rome, and are competent witnesses of
-the tradition of the Roman Church, the most important of all in
-this matter; the two latter can testify to the same tradition,
-both because missionaries from Rome planted the faith in Africa,
-and because the constant intercourse, as well in ecclesiastical
-as in civil affairs, between the capital of the empire and
-Carthage, must necessarily have brought about a community of
-traditions between the two churches. The whole ancient church
-thus bears witness to what some Protestants now vainly affect to
-deny. Greece, Asia Minor, Syria, Egypt, Northern Africa, Gaul,
-Palestine, repeat what Clement, ordained by Peter, tells. The
-second century takes up the fact from those who had seen the
-apostles; the third learns it from the second, and the father of
-ecclesiastical history relates it as a matter beyond doubt, found
-by him in those ancient records, for the greater part since lost,
-the gist of which he has fortunately preserved to posterity.
-Scarcely any matter of fact&mdash;and this is a <i>mere</i> matter of
-fact&mdash;connected with the early age of the church, leaving out
-those recorded in the sacred pages, is better attested.
-</p>
-<p>
-To these written records we must add the expressive testimony of
-the catacombs. It is impossible to visit them without feeling
-that the Roman Christians looked on the apostles Peter and Paul
-as the founders of their local church. Eusebius was struck by the
-"monuments marked with the names of Peter and Paul," which he saw
-in the cemeteries at Rome, and these have been discovered, in
-modern times, by the indefatigable industry of Christian
-antiquarians; they are a living testimony to the fact that St.
-Peter, as well as St. Paul, labored in Rome. The illustrious
-Cardinal Borgia has traced the tradition in regard to the
-presence of St. Peter's body in the Vatican from the beginning of
-the third century, [Footnote 106] when, as we have seen, Cajus, a
-priest of Rome, in a work against heretics, [Footnote 107] spoke
-of the trophy of Peter in the Vatican, down to the days of Pope
-Urban VIII. And thus the most splendid monument Christianity has
-erected to the worship of the living God is also an authentic
-record of the fact that the chief of the apostles selected the
-city of Rome, in a special manner, as the scene of his labors,
-and there consummated his glorious career in the service of his
-Master. No wonder learned Protestants are ashamed to join with
-their more ignorant brethren. One learned German writer of this
-century says: "There is, perhaps, no event in ancient (church)
-history so clearly placed beyond doubt by the consenting
-testimony of ancient Christian writers as that of Peter having
-been at Rome." [Footnote 108] Another more forcibly, if possible,
-remarks: "Nothing but the polemics of faction have induced some
-Protestants, especially Spanheim, in imitation of some mediaeval
-opponents of the popes, to deny that Peter ever was at Rome."
-[Footnote 109]
-</p>
-<p>
-    [Footnote 106: In the work <i>Vaticana Confessio B.
-    Petri.</i>]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 107: <i>The Montanists.</i>]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 108: Berthold, <i>Historisch-Krit. Inlet. in A. und
-    N. T. apud</i> Perrone.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 109: Gieseler, <i>Lehrbuch der Kirchengesch.</i>
-    Ibid.]
-</p>
-<p>
-A caviller may, indeed, say that all these witnesses prove, at
-most, that Peter was at Rome, not that he was bishop of Rome. And
-this is the point made by Bishop Browne, in the work to which we
-have referred.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It is not to be doubted," he says, "that a tradition did exist
-  in early times that St. Peter was bishop of Rome. But if that
-  tradition be submitted, like others of the same kind, to the
-  test of historical investigation, it will be found to rest on a
-  very slender foundation.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_379">{379}</a></span>
-  In the first place, Scripture is silent about his having been
-  at Rome&mdash;a remarkable silence, if his having been bishop there
-  was a fact of such vital importance to the church as Roman
-  divines have made it to be. Then, the first tradition of his
-  having been at Rome at all does not appear for more than a
-  century after his death. It is nearly two centuries after that
-  event that we meet with anything like the opinion that the
-  Roman bishops were his successors. It is three centuries before
-  we find him spoken of as bishop of Rome. But when we reach
-  three centuries and a half, we are told that he not only was
-  bishop of Rome, but that he resided five and twenty years at
-  Rome; a statement utterly irreconcilable with the history of
-  the New Testament." [Footnote 110]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 110: Loc. cit.]
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  There is, indeed, no good reason to doubt that St. Peter was at
-  Rome; that he assisted St. Paul to order and establish the
-  church there; that, in conjunction with Paul, he ordained one
-  or more of its earliest bishops, and that there he suffered
-  death for the sake of Christ. But there is no reason to believe
-  that he was ever, in any proper or local sense, bishop of
-  Rome." [Footnote 111]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 111: <i>Ibid</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We leave aside for the present the alleged silence of the New
-Testament. In the first place, it is not true that "the first
-tradition of Peter's having been at Rome does not appear for more
-than a century after his death." Clement of Rome, Ignatius of
-Antioch, Papias, Dionysius of Corinth, belong to this period, and
-all unmistakably testify to Peter's having been at Rome. Irenaeus
-may be fairly counted also, as he was sent from Lyons to Rome in
-A.D. 177. Of these, Bishop Browne mentions only Papias and
-Irenaeus. He quotes Papias's opinion about the word
-<i>Babylon</i> in St. Peter's first Epistle, and tries to set it
-aside. But, whatever the exegetical value of the opinion, it is
-proof that Papias held it as an undoubted fact that St. Peter was
-at Rome; besides, he also states that Mark wrote his gospel at
-Rome, under the eye of Peter. Nor is it at all pertinent to say
-that Eusebius tells us that Papias was a narrow-minded man, and
-an enthusiast about the Apocalypse. Neither narrow-mindedness nor
-enthusiasm prevents men from being competent witnesses to simple
-facts, and the one about which we are now inquiring is a simple
-fact. The only question is&mdash;Could Papias have known for certain
-whether St. Peter was at Rome or not? He lived in the apostolic
-age, not half a century after the death of the apostle. This is a
-sufficient answer, and his views about either Babylon or the
-Apocalypse cannot impair its sufficiency. As to Irenaeus, our
-lord bishop quibbles in a way that is not handsome. He tries to
-break down his and other writers' testimony by alleging, first,
-that they disagree as to the first bishop of Rome after St.
-Peter; second, that they disagree about the <i>time</i> St. Peter
-came to Rome.
-</p>
-<p>
-We are almost ashamed to have to answer such quibbling. Neither
-disagreement at all touches the substantial part of the
-narrative. Neither is as great as our expounder of the articles,
-in his despair, tries to make it. Neither could ever have been
-alleged in ordinary controversy. All authors, save Tertullian,
-mention Linus as first bishop of Rome after Peter. The African
-father in reality says only that Clement was ordained by Peter;
-the context, however, would suggest that he supposed he was the
-immediate successor of the apostle. The truth appears to be that
-Linus, Cletus, and Clement were consecrated bishops by one or the
-other of the apostles. This was commonly done in the first age;
-only one person in every city possessed episcopal jurisdiction,
-but more clergymen than one were frequently invested with the
-episcopal order. This was done in the Roman Church. St. Peter was
-its first bishop; after his death, Linus, Cletus, Clement
-governed it in succession, all three having been ordained by the
-apostles.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_380">{380}</a></span>
-There is nothing in this supposition at all at variance with what
-is known to have been the common practice of the first age, a
-practice which it is not ingenuous in the lord bishop of Ely to
-suppress. As to the discrepancy about the time of the apostle's
-coming to Rome, it is easily explained on the commonly received
-hypothesis that St. Peter twice visited Rome. Eusebius says that
-he went first under Claudius. He was obliged to leave Italy in
-consequence of that emperor's decree banishing thence the Jews.
-He returned thither, toward the end of his life, and there
-suffered martyrdom. But it is plain that such discrepancies
-cannot affect the substance, namely, that Peter was at Rome;
-indeed, they are intelligible only on the supposition that all
-the authors quoted held the main fact as certain. It is plain
-also that there is not the slightest foundation for the lord
-bishop's assertion that "at whatever time St. Peter came to Rome,
-there was some one else bishop of Rome then." The courage
-required for this assertion can be measured from another
-statement, just four lines above: "All (the early writers) agree
-in saying that the first bishop of the see was Linus." This is
-simply shameful. Put after "see" the words <i>after Peter</i>,
-and the quotation will be correct. But then what becomes of the
-bishop's argument? He says Linus was bishop of Rome when Peter
-went thither; and he also admits that "some (early writers) say
-that St. Paul, others that St. Peter and St. Paul, ordained him."
-These latter writers surely did not suppose that St. Peter
-ordained a man in Rome before he himself ever went to Rome. The
-bishop clearly does not stick at trifles. His chronology is also
-entirely at fault. He says that it "is three centuries (after St.
-Peter's death) before we find him spoken of as bishop of Rome."
-But St. Cyprian, whom even Bishop Hopkins admits spoke thus of
-the apostle, was put to death before the end of the second
-century from St. Peter's martyrdom. He sneers at the statement
-that St. Peter was five-and-twenty years bishop of Rome; yet he
-admits that it is based on the authority of that eminent and
-judicious critic, St. Jerome, who, from his high position under
-Pope Damasus, had abundant opportunity for an accurate
-examination of the then extant records. In reality, it is based
-on an earlier authority, the great historian Eusebius. It is
-plain that his polemic system is simply factious; he ignores some
-authorities, misconstrues others, miscalculates dates, and
-mistakes mere accessories for the principal fact; such a course
-is not only a crime against historical truth, it is also a
-blunder, for it can mislead only the unlearned or the unwary
-reader.
-</p>
-<p>
-The writers of the first age do not, it is true, assert in so
-many words that St. Peter was bishop of Rome. The reason is
-obvious. Treating of other matters, their allusions are merely
-incidental, such as we might expect immediately after the death
-of SS. Peter and Paul, and relating chiefly to the fact of the
-apostle's connection with the Roman Church, or his martyrdom
-there. For these facts they are unanswerable authority. These are
-a necessary preliminary to the assertion of St. Peter's Roman
-bishopric. This fact is broadly stated as soon as we meet with
-the polemical development of the doctrine of apostolic
-succession. Tertullian, in the text we have quoted from the book
-<i>On Prescriptons</i>, where he accurately defines in what this
-succession consists, namely, that the first bishop was appointed
-and preceded by an apostle or an apostolic man, (<i>Apostolum &hellip;
-habuerit auctorem et antecessorem,</i>) says that in the Roman
-Church Clement was ordained by Peter.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_381">{381}</a></span>
-Tracing thus the succession in Rome from Peter, not from Paul,
-whose death in the imperial city he mentions, he shows that he
-knew Peter was the bishop of the see. St. Cyprian uses
-unmistakable language on the same subject, and Eusebius asserts
-positively that St. Peter was bishop of Rome. We might quote
-other catalogues, but, though of great authority, they are of a
-more recent date. But we shall give two more authorities which
-can be connected with the period to which we have confined
-ourselves. St. Jerome [Footnote 112] positively states that St.
-Peter held the episcopal chair (<i>cathedram sacerdotalem</i>) of
-Rome for twenty-five years. His historical knowledge and critical
-acumen give to his words the authority of a statement based on
-the very best records of the early age. No one can deny that in
-the latter half of the fourth century there were such records at
-Rome. St. Optatus of Millevi, in Africa, (A.D. 370,) in a
-controversial work against the Donatists, speaks of St. Peter's
-Roman bishopric as a matter of notoriety, which no one would dare
-deny. "You ought to know," says he to the Donatist leader,
-Parmenian, "and <i>you dare not deny</i>, that Peter established
-at Rome an episcopal chair, which he was the first to occupy, in
-order that through (communion with) this one chair all might
-preserve unity." [Footnote 113]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 112: In Catal.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 113: Contr. Parmenianum.]
-</p>
-<p>
-A statement made so positively, so unhesitatingly, so boldly,
-must have been founded on the very best historical evidence. And
-the nineteenth century must accept the judgment of competent
-writers of the fourth on such a subject. Unless, then, we wish to
-deny all authority to authentic record of the early age of the
-church, we must conclude, with the good leave of the lord bishop
-of Ely, that there is excellent reason to believe that St. Peter
-was bishop of Rome. Nor is there any force in the bishop's remark
-that all the apostles had the world for their diocese, and were
-not confined to any particular city. We do not, of course mean to
-say that St. Peter confined his preaching to Rome. He was apostle
-as well as head of the church. As apostle, he preached chiefly to
-the Jews. As head of the church, he chose for his episcopal see
-the capital of the world, in order that there might be no doubts
-about the legitimate heir of his great dignity. For this reason
-we find him in Rome among the Gentiles, though St. Paul had a
-special mission to them. Dr. Browne says Peter was St. Paul's
-<i>assistant</i> at Rome; and this, in the face of the facts that
-every writer, from Clement down, puts him before the great vessel
-of election, and that St. Paul himself, as we shall see, speaks
-of his ministry to the Romans as one merely of mutual
-consolation, a tone he never adopted toward a church which he
-himself had founded. We have purposely left to the last the
-argument based on the alleged silence of the New Testament,
-because we wished to clear an historical question of all purely
-exegetical difficulties. We have established our thesis on
-indubitable evidence; we might rest here and simply say that,
-inasmuch as no one pretends that the New Testament contains the
-entire history of the apostles, its silence cannot affect the
-certainty of our proposition. This silence may puzzle the curious
-reader; it may be variously interpreted, according to the
-theological bent of the student; but it cannot disprove facts
-which are proved by historical authority.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_382">{382}</a></span>
-Bishop Browne feels the force of this, and does not insist much
-on the silence of the New Testament. He merely remarks that this
-silence is strange, if St. Peter's Roman bishopric be as
-important as Roman divines make it out to be. Strictly speaking,
-we might let this pass, as we are not now concerned in
-establishing the supremacy of the Roman pontiffs, but merely
-treating the historical question, Who was first bishop of Rome?
-We may observe, however, that no believer in the doctrine of
-apostolical succession can consistently urge this silence. How
-does Dr. Browne trace <i>his</i> succession in the office of
-bishop from the apostles? Is it from St. Peter? Then he has to
-meet the same objection about the silence of the New Testament on
-what, from his point of view, is a vital matter. Is it from St.
-Paul? But there is no scriptural evidence that St. Paul ever
-ordained a bishop in Rome, or anywhere in the west. Is it from
-any other apostle? The same remark holds good. No claim to
-apostolical succession can be established for any see in the
-western church unless on the evidence of tradition. This is
-virtually admitted by Dr. Browne himself.
-</p>
-<p>
-Since, however, the silence of the New Testament is commonly
-urged as affording presumptive evidence that St. Peter never was
-at Rome, we shall examine all that Protestants have to say on the
-subject. The principal text&mdash;the only one having direct reference
-to the subject&mdash;is I Peter v. 13: "The church which is in
-Babylon, elected together with you, saluteth you, and so doth
-Mark, my son." Nearly all ancient writers, commencing with
-Papias, say that this letter was written at Rome, which city St.
-Peter designates under the name of Babylon. Our Protestant
-opponents, of course, reject this interpretation. Now, we wish it
-to be understood that we do not allege this text to prove that
-St. Peter wrote from Rome. We admit that, taken in itself, apart
-from tradition, it is obscure, and can afford, at best, ground
-but for conjecture. But, having established beyond all doubt the
-fact that St. Peter was at Rome, we follow the interpretation of
-the respectable ancient writers whom we have quoted. When the
-letter was written, old Babylon of Assyria was in ruins,
-according to Strabo and Pliny; and the Jews, to whom St. Peter
-wrote, had been banished from Assyria, according to Josephus;
-and, though Seleucia was afterward called Babylon, it had not
-received the name at this early period. Some think that the
-Babylon referred to was in Egypt, the place now called Cairo. But
-it was then but a fort, or fortified village, (<i>castellum</i>,)
-and the Christian church of Egypt has always looked on Alexandria
-as its birthplace. St. Peter, moreover, warns the Christians of
-the approaching persecution, and exhorts them to be subject to
-the emperor and his subordinates. These allusions come very
-naturally from the pen of one writing at Rome, but are almost
-unintelligible if we suppose the writer in Babylon of Assyria,
-out of the Roman empire. The opinion that the letter was written
-at Rome, called Babylon by St. Peter for some reason which we can
-only conjecture, is based on excellent ancient authority, agrees
-with well-known facts of history, and with the internal evidence
-of the letter itself. Leaving aside its bearings on the main
-question we are discussing, it is by far the most probable view,
-and, in any other case, would be accepted without difficulty.
-[Footnote 114]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 114: Occasionally the love of novelty induces some
-    Catholic writer to differ from his brethren. This is the case
-    with Hug, who holds that we cannot admit mystical names in
-    the letters of the apostles, as there is no instance of their
-    use, save in this disputed case. This is criticism based on
-    internal evidence run mad. One would suppose that there was a
-    perfect course of sacred epistolary literature in the New
-    Testament, based on fixed rules, instead of a few detached
-    letters, written by different authors at different times,
-    without any communication or agreement with one another about
-    literary style. There is nothing more fallacious than the
-    interpretation of any of the letters of the apostles on mere
-    internal evidence. Hug's remark at most shows that internal
-    evidence does not afford any proof that St. Peter meant Rome,
-    which no one will deny.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_383">{383}</a></span>
-<p>
-Protestants, moreover, commonly allege the absence of any mention
-of St. Peter's voyage to Rome in the Acts of the Apostles, and
-the absence of any reference to him, either in St. Paul's Epistle
-to the Romans or in those he wrote from Rome. The silence of the
-Acts is easily explained. After the council of Jerusalem, the
-writer relates only the missionary labors of St. Paul, so that we
-could not expect any mention of St. Peter's voyages. Dr. Browne
-infers from Acts xxviii. 22, that "the Jews of Rome had had no
-communication with any chief teacher among the Christians." This
-inference is not borne out by the text, "We desire to hear from
-thee what thou thinkest; or as concerning this sect, we know that
-it is everywhere opposed." The obvious meaning is that the Jews
-of Rome knowing that Paul was a Pharisee learned in the law,
-wished to hear what he had to say in favor of the new religion.
-They must have looked on St. Peter as a Galilean fisherman, who
-had no right to attempt to expound the law and the prophets. It
-is puerile for Dr. Browne to allege that they should have heard
-him with respect because he was the apostle of the circumcision;
-for, of what importance could this title be in their eyes, if
-they did not believe in Him who sent the apostles?
-</p>
-<p>
-If St. Peter went to Rome in the reign of Claudius, he certainly
-was afterward absent from the city, as we find him after this
-period at the council of Jerusalem. His absence from Rome
-accounts for the fact that St. Paul does not salute him in his
-Epistle to the Romans, a straw at which some Protestant writers
-clutch with great avidity. The great respect with which St. Paul
-speaks of the Roman Church, whose faith, he says, was spoken of
-in the whole world, agrees with the supposition that St. Peter
-had already preached there. On these words, [Footnote 115] "For I
-long to see you, that I may impart to you some spiritual gift,
-that ye may be strengthened; that is, I may be comforted together
-with you, by that which is common to us both, your faith and
-mine." Theodoret remarks as follows: "Because the great Peter had
-first given them the doctrine of the gospel, he said merely,'that
-ye may be strengthened.' I do not wish, he says, to bring a new
-doctrine to you, but to confirm that which you have received, and
-to water the trees which have already been planted." [Footnote
-116]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 115: Ch. i. 11, 12.]
-<br><br>
-    [Footnote 116: In locum.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The words certainly indicate that the faith had already been
-firmly established by some teacher of high rank, and are a very
-apposite commentary on Dr. Browne's reason why the Jews, some
-years afterward, were anxious to hear St. Paul. We cannot really
-understand what hallucination led him to quote these words to
-show that St. Paul writes much as "if no apostle had ever been
-amongst the Romans." But we admire his prudence in giving purely
-a reference, not the words of the text. His other reference to
-Rom. xv. 15-24 is even more unlucky. St. Paul therein says
-plainly that he generally preached, "not where Christ was named,"
-lest he should build on another man's foundation.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_384">{384}</a></span>
-"<i>For which cause</i>," he adds, "I have been much hindered
-from coming to you." Therefore some other apostle <i>had</i>
-preached to the Romans. He even goes on to say that he hoped to
-be gratified in his desire of seeing them, <i>when on his way to
-Spain</i>, so that it is plain that he, though apostle of the
-Gentiles, considered there was no necessity for his making a
-journey to Rome on purpose to instruct the Roman Church. St.
-Paul, then, writes very much as if an apostle <i>had</i> been
-with the Romans. Whatever else Dr. Browne does, he ought to quote
-Scripture fairly. St. Paul's allusions, obscure though they may
-be to us, were, of course, clear to those to whom they were
-written. No familiar letter can be fully understood without
-taking into account the facts which, being well known to those to
-whom he writes, the author merely alludes to in a passing way.
-</p>
-<p>
-The letters which St. Paul wrote from Rome were all written
-during his first stay there, with the probable exception of the
-second to Timothy. Colossians iv. II, and 2 Timothy iv. 16, are
-quoted to show that St. Peter was not at Rome, else he would have
-stood by St. Paul. But the epistle to the Colossians was written
-during St. Paul's first imprisonment, when St. Peter, as we have
-seen, must have been absent, and in the second to Timothy he
-speaks expressly of his "first defence." Most writers think he
-refers to his first imprisonment. Others suppose him to speak of
-a preliminary hearing before Nero, during his second
-imprisonment. Admitting this interpretation, he cannot include
-St. Peter, who was his fellow-prisoner, in the list of those who
-had forsaken him. The words apply to persons at large, who had
-influence with the authorities, which they did not use.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have thus fully examined all that Protestants allege
-concerning the silence of the New Testament. The candid reader
-will see that there is nothing in the sacred pages to contradict
-the historical facts we have established; the allusions of St.
-Paul to the instruction of the Romans in the faith by a teacher
-of high rank, and the interpretation of the word <i>Babylon</i>
-in St. Peter's first letter, which has come down to us from the
-apostolic age, must be counted in their favor.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is on historical evidence that the case must rest; and on it,
-as we have rehearsed it, we are satisfied to submit it to
-unprejudiced criticism. The testimony of the apostolic age, and
-the two immediately following, is conclusive; it cannot be
-explained away; much less can it be impeached. We must give up
-all belief in well-authenticated history, or else admit that St.
-Peter went to Rome, founded the church there, and was its first
-bishop, and there died a martyr of Christ.
-</p><div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "O Roma felix, quae duorum principum
-     Es consecrata glorioso sanguine
-   Horum cruore purpurata ceteras
-     Excellis orbis una pulchritudines."
-
-  "O happy Rome! whom the great Apostles' blood
-     For ever consecrates while ages flow:
-   Thou, thus empurpled, art more beautiful
-     Than all that doth appear most beautiful below."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p class="center">
-    Note By The Editor On The Chronology Of St. Peter's Life.
-</p>
-<p>
-Eusebius says that St. Peter established his see at Antioch in
-the last year of Tiberius, who died March fifteenth, A.D. 37. It
-was probably, therefore, in the year 36; and St. Ignatius, the
-second successor of St. Peter in that see; St. John Chrysostom,
-who had been a priest there; Origen and St. Jerome, as well as
-Eusebius, state that he governed that church seven years; which
-probably means, not that his episcopate was just of that length,
-but, that seven calendar years were included (the first and the
-last partially) in it.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_385">{385}</a></span>
-At any rate, this would make the establishment of his see in Rome
-in A.D. 42 or 43; and the day celebrated by the church is January
-18th. Now, Eusebius, St. Jerome, Cassiodorus, and others say that
-SS. Peter and Paul were put to death in the fourteenth year of
-Nero, that is, in A.D. 67; and their martyrdom is celebrated on
-June 29th. This gives twenty-four and a half or twenty-five and a
-half years for St. Peter's Roman episcopate, or twenty-five years
-in the sense that the Antiochan was seven, if he came to Rome in
-43; in which case he may even have established his see at Antioch
-in 37.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. John Chrysostom says that St. Paul's life after his
-conversion was thirty-five years; which would make that event to
-have occurred in A.D. 32 or 33. He himself says (Gal. i.) that
-three years afterward he went to Jerusalem, and thence to Tarsus,
-as is also stated in Acts ix. From this place he was called to
-preach to the church at Antioch, as mentioned in Acts xi.; and
-this visit, which could not have much preceded the establishment
-of St. Peter's see there, may well have been in A.D. 35 or 36,
-agreeing with the chronology given above.
-</p>
-<p>
-These dates do not agree with that commonly assigned for the
-crucifixion; but numerous evidences show that this occurred in
-the year 29. As late a date as A.D. 31 might, however, be
-allowed.
-</p>
-<hr>
-
-              <h2>A Ruined Life.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-It was the saddest, saddest face I ever saw.
-</p>
-<p>
-She stood before the stove in my front office, on that dark
-December day, and the steam from her wet, heated garments almost
-concealed her from my sight. Yet the first glimpse I caught of
-her, through the partition door, excited my interest to an
-unusual degree; and, though I saw her not again for a half hour,
-that one glance fixed her features in my memory as indelibly as
-they are printed there to-day.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was term time, and the second return-day of the term. For ten
-days my eyes and brain had both been crowded with all that varied
-detail of business which sessions aggregate upon the hands and
-conscience of a rising lawyer; and the musty retinue of
-<i>assumpsit, ejectment</i>, and <i>scire-facias</i> had nearly
-vexed and worn out the little life I had at the beginning. But
-the criminal week, which was my peculiar sphere, was close at
-hand, and I looked to its exciting, riskful cases as a relief
-from the dull, dreary current of civil forms and practice.
-</p>
-<p>
-The little room I dignified with the name of "<i>front
-office</i>" was filled, as far as seats went, with rough
-backwoodsmen, witnesses on behalf of a gentleman who occupied
-with me the snugly carpeted "<i>sanctum</i>" in the rear. While
-we discussed together the points of strength or weakness to be
-tested at the impending trial, the voices of the rude laborers
-reached us brokenly, and more than once words fell upon my ear
-which made me tremble for the sensibilities of the lonely woman
-who was with them.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_386">{386}</a></span>
-They meant no harm, those bluff, hearty men. A tear from her
-drooping eyes would have unmanned them. But they were not
-well-bred, nor tender to the weakness of the other sex. My poor
-client, as she afterward became, stood while they sat, kept
-silence while they laughed and jeered each other. It was not
-their fault that they never minded her. They were not hypocrites,
-that's all.
-</p>
-<p>
-At length I had the happiness to see the door close on the last
-of them, and, after arranging the maps and diagrams which would
-be needed on the morrow, I called to the stranger to come in. She
-obeyed, hesitatingly, and then, for the first time, I saw that
-she belonged to that most forlorn and pitiable of all the many
-classes who throng around our mining districts, the recent Irish
-emigrant. The very clothes she wore were the same with which she
-dressed herself in the green isle far away, and her voice and
-manner had not yet caught that flippancy and pertness which pass
-among the longer landed for tokens of American independence and
-equality. She was certainly very poor, or the rough, wintry winds
-would not have been permitted to toss her long, black hair in
-tangled masses around her shoulders, or drop their melting
-snowflakes on her uncovered head. My chivalric interest died
-without time to groan, and whatever thought of profit or romance
-in assisting her I might have had, at the first sight of her,
-perished at the same instant. But I saw poverty and sorrow, and I
-determined in my heart, before she told her errand, that my life
-of legal labor should embrace at least one act done thoroughly
-and for nothing.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her story was a short one. Her husband and herself had lived in a
-neighboring village. Others of their own people dwelt around
-them, and among these was an old woman and her son. No
-difficulty, that she knew of, had ever risen between her family
-and theirs. But, a few days before, as her husband was gathering
-fuel by the roadside, these two had rushed out on him, and in
-cold blood murdered him. The son had fled, and the murderer's
-mother, with barred doors and windows, forbade the vicinage of
-friend or foe. The broken-hearted wife, urged on to take such
-vengeance as the law afforded, had come to me and asked my
-counsel and assistance.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was of little use to question her. Like most of her peculiar
-class, her mind could entertain but one idea, and that, in some
-form or other, recurred in answer to every inquiry I could make.
-Satisfying myself, however, that a murder had really been
-committed, and taking down such names and dates as were necessary
-for the initial steps of prosecution, I sent her home, with the
-assurance that justice should be done her, and her dead husband's
-ghost avenged.
-</p>
-<p>
-The warrant was issued, the arrest made, the indictment found,
-the trial finished. There was no doubt of guilt. The murder was
-committed in the broad light of day, and many eyes had seen it.
-The counsel for the defence had felt the untenability of his
-position before a tithe of the evidence was in, and slipped down
-from innocence to justifiability, until his last hope for the
-prisoner was in the allegation of insanity, late suggested and
-faintly urged. It was useless. The twelve inexorable men brought
-in their verdict of "wilful murder," and Bridget Davanagh was
-sentenced to be hanged by the neck till she was dead.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_387">{387}</a></span>
-<p>
-It has never been my custom to follow cases, on which the solemn
-judgment of the law has been pronounced, beyond those immediate
-consequences of that judgment which the connection between a
-lawyer and his client has compelled me to superintend. But there
-was something in this case which both attracted and disquieted
-me, and one day in vacation I found myself at the grated
-prison-door, seeking admission to the cell of the condemned. The
-old woman received me quietly. She seemed to have forgotten me,
-or, at least, how active a part I had taken in the proceedings
-which had ended in dooming her to a shameful death. She was
-taciturn and moody; and, the longer I remained, the more
-satisfied I became that her mind was now unsettled, if it had not
-been before. I went several times after that, and gradually, by
-kind words and the gift of such simple comforts as aged matrons
-most desire, I won her confidence so far that, in her faltering,
-disconnected way, she told me all that sad history of woe and
-wrong and suffering which had brought an untimely grave to
-Michael Herican, and a felon's fate to her. It was one of those
-tales of falsity and sorrow which we cannot hear too often, and
-whose moral none of us can learn too well.
-</p>
-<p>
-The little village of Easky, in the County Sligo, was, when this
-present century was young, one of those lonesome, scanty-peopled
-hamlets whose very loneliness and isolation render them more dear
-and homelike to their few inhabitants. The waters of the Northern
-Ocean foamed about the rocks where its fisher-boats were moored.
-The feet of its rambling children trod the rough paths and
-crumpled the grey masses of the wild Slieve-Gamph hills. Thus
-hemmed in between the mountains and the sea, it was almost
-separated from the world. The white sails that now and then
-flitted across the far horizon, and the slow, lazy car that twice
-a month brought over his majesty's mail-bags from Dromore, were
-all that Easky ever had to tell it that there were nations and
-kingdoms on the earth, or that its own precipices on the one
-side, and its weed-strewn rocks upon the other, did not embrace
-the whole of human joys and sorrows.
-</p>
-<p>
-In this solitary village the forefathers of Patrick Carrol had
-dwelt for immemorial years. So far back as tradition went they
-had been fishermen, and the last remaining scion now followed the
-ancestral calling. He was a sort of hero among his
-fellow-villagers. True, he was as poor as the poorest of them
-all, and had no personal boast save of his vigorous arms and
-honest heart. But his father, contrary to the custom of his race,
-had refused to lay his bones within an ocean bed, and had died
-fighting in the bloody streets of Killala. All victims of '98
-were canonized by those rude freemen, and the mantle of honor
-fell from the father upon the children, and gave to Patrick
-Carrol a deserved and well-maintained pre-eminence. And so, when
-Bridget Deery became his wife, the whole hamlet agreed that the
-village favorite had found her proper husband, and, when the
-little Mary saw the light, the christening holiday was kept by
-every neighbor, old or young.
-</p>
-<p>
-Four years of perfect happiness flew by. Death or misfortune came
-to other families, but not to theirs. The little hoarded wealth,
-hid away in the dark corner, grew yearly greater. Health and
-affection dwelt unremittingly upon the hearthstone, and the
-hearts of the father and mother were as full of gratitude as the
-heart of the child was of merriment and glee. But the four years
-had an end, and carried with them, into the trackless past, the
-sunshine of their lives.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_388">{388}</a></span>
-One long, long summer day the wife sat among the rocks, watching
-for her husband's boat, and playing with the prattler at her
-side. The boat came not. The sun went down. The gathering clouds
-in the offing loomed up threateningly. The hoarse northwesters
-felt their way across the waters, and whistled in her ears, as
-she clasped the child to her bosom and hurried home out of the
-storm. As the gale strengthened with the darkness, she fell upon
-her knees, and all that wakeful night besought the Mother and the
-saints to keep her baby's father from the awful danger. In vain;
-for when the morning dawned, the waves washed up his oars and
-helm upon the beach, and an hour later his drowned corse was
-found beneath the broken crags of Anghris Head.
-</p>
-<p>
-For the first few years after that fatal shock the widowed mother
-lived she knew not how. One by one the treasured silver pieces
-went, till destitution stared her in the face. The charity of her
-neighbors outdid their means, but even that could not keep her
-from actual suffering, and work for the lone woman there was
-absolutely none. What wonder was it, then, that, when the flowers
-had bloomed three times above the peaceful bed of Patrick Carrol,
-his widow, more for her child's sake than her own, consented to
-violate the sanctity of her broken heart, and become the wife of
-Bernard Davanagh?
-</p>
-<p>
-Bernard was a bold, reckless, wilful man, and both the mother and
-the child soon felt the difference between the dead father and
-the living. As time passed on, and the boy Bernard was born, the
-passions of the man grew stronger, and cruel words, and still
-more cruel blows, became the daily portion of the helpless three.
-Oh! how often did the widow yearn to lie down with her children
-by her dead husband's side, in the drear churchyard, and be at
-peace for ever. But not <i>without</i> them. No, not even to be
-united with the lost, could she have left them, and so they clung
-together, closer and closer, as the years rolled on&mdash;knowing
-little of life except its dark page of sorrow.
-</p>
-<p>
-There never yet was a life without some ray of joy, and, even in
-the midnight darkness which hung around the childhood of Mary
-Carrol, there were faint gleams of happiness. Next door but one
-to their poor cot lived James Herican. He too was a fisherman,
-and, in better days, had been Patrick Carrol's most intimate and
-faithful friend. He had remained such to the widow and the
-fatherless, and, but for him, the family of Bernard Davanagh also
-might sometimes have perished from want and cold. He was the
-father of one child, the boy Michael, older by two years than
-Mary, and doubly endeared to his heart by the mother's early
-death. The gossips of Easky had wondered, in their simple way,
-why James Herican and Bridget Carrol did not marry, but the
-memory of his dead wife and his dead friend forbade the one ever
-to entertain the thought, and the poor widow was as far from
-wishing it as he. They were happier as they were; he, by his
-kindness and true Christian charity, laying up heavenly
-treasures, which, as the second husband of a second wife, he
-never could accumulate; she, keeping ever fresh and pure the one
-love of her maiden's heart, the one hope of reunion in the skies.
-What, and how different, the end had been, if they had married,
-the eye of the Eternal can alone discern.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_389">{389}</a></span>
-<p>
-The friendship of these parents descended to the children. In all
-their sports, their rambles, their labors, (for in that toiling
-hamlet even tender childhood labored,) Michael Herican and Mary
-Carrol were together. When her half-brother, eight years younger
-than herself, grew into boyhood, Michael was his champion against
-the impositions of larger boys, and taught him all those arts of
-wood and water craft which village youth so ardently aspire to,
-and so aptly learn. It could not happen otherwise than that these
-constantly recurring kindnesses should beget firm and fast
-affection, and knit together these young hearts in bonds
-difficult, if not impossible, to sunder.
-</p>
-<p>
-It may have been the law of nature, it may have been the
-chastening of God, that Michael Herican and Mary Carrol should
-come, in later years, to love each other. It was simply fitting,
-to all human sight, that it should be so; and it was so. The
-father and the mother thanked God for it, day by day, and
-bestowed upon them such tokens of encouragement as the bashful
-lovers could comfortably receive. The boy Bernard, when he heard
-of it, (and there could be no secrets in Easky,) threw up his cap
-for joy, and the old village crones for once smiled on the
-prospects of a happiness they had never known. Only Davanagh
-appeared displeased, but his abuse of the poor girl had been so
-extreme for years that it could scarcely suffer any increase, and
-all the influence he exerted over her or them was by his ruthless
-fist and cursing tongue. This at last ceased; for ears less
-patient than her own received his stinging insults, and a blow,
-quicker than his drunken arm could parry, stretched him upon the
-ground to rise no more.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mary Carrol reached her twentieth birthday. She was a frail,
-delicate girl, below the middle height, and with that beautiful
-but strange union of large blue eyes and pearly complexion with
-jet black hair and lashes which tells at once of the pure Irish
-blood. We should not have called her handsome; perhaps no one
-would, except those who loved her, and in whose sight no
-disfigurement or disease could have made her homely. But she was
-one of those superior natures which solitude and suffering must
-unite with Christian culture to produce; and the whole
-neighborhood, for this, and not for her beauty, claimed her as
-its favorite and charm. Michael had grown to be a stalwart man,
-half a head taller than his sire, and his fellows said that none
-among them promised better for diligence and success than he. His
-devotion to Mary Carrol knew no bounds, and she, in turn,
-cherished scarcely a thought apart from him. Her mother had
-rapidly grown old and broken. Grief, and that yearning for the
-dead which is stronger than any sorrow, had made her an aged
-woman long before her time, and the fond daughter, between her
-and the one hope of her young life, had no third wish or joy. Her
-only trouble was for her brother. The wild elements of his
-father's nature became more apparent in him every day, and,
-though he loved his mother and half-sister with an almost inhuman
-passionateness, they frequently found it impossible to restrain
-his turbulent and curbless will. The stern control of a seafaring
-life seemed to be their only chance of saving him, and so, at
-little more than twelve years old, he was torn away from home and
-friends and sent out on a coasting merchantman to be subdued.
-This parting nearly broke his mothers's heart, but her discipline
-of suffering had been borne too long and patiently for her to
-rebel now. It was only another drop to her full cup of
-bitterness, when, a few months later, news came, by word of mouth
-from a sailor in Dromore, that the merchantman had foundered in
-the stormy Irish Sea.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_390">{390}</a></span>
-<p>
-It would be beyond the power of human pen to describe how these
-lone women now clung to Michael Herican. His father went down to
-the grave in peace, and he had none but them, as they had none
-but him. Already the one looked on him as a husband and the other
-as a son. When a few more successful voyages were over, and when
-the humble necessaries, which even an Easky maid could not become
-a wife without providing, were completed, the benediction of the
-church was to fulfil the promise of their hearts, and give them
-irrevocably to each other in the sight of God and man.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-It was an ill-starred day for Michael Herican and the Carrols
-when the Widow Moran and her daughter came to live in Easky.
-Pierre Moran, deceased, had been a small shopkeeper in Sligo,
-where he had amassed a little competence, and, now that he was
-dead, his widow returned to her native village to pass her
-remaining life among her former neighbors. There were few among
-them who had not known more or less about the reckless girl who
-ran away with the half-French half-Irish shopman, twenty years
-ago, and her name and memory was none of the best among those
-virtuous villagers. But she cared less for this because she had
-enough of filthy lucre to command exterior respect, and it was
-better, so she thought, to be highest among the lowly than to be
-low among the high. In coming to Easky she had had two ends in
-view: to queen it over her former associates, and to secure a
-steady and good husband for her daughter. Kitty Moran was like
-her mother, but without her mother's faults. She was a girl of
-dash and spirit, and with a pride as quick and a nature as
-impressible as her mother was emotionless. She was a thorough
-brunette, with a brunette's violence and passion, with a
-brunette's power to love and power to hate. In actual beauty no
-maiden of the neighborhood could vie with her, and she had just
-enough of city polish and refinement to give her an appearance of
-superiority to those around her. Between her and Mary Carrol the
-angels would not have hesitated in choosing&mdash;unless, indeed, they
-were those ancient sons of God who took wives from among the
-daughters of men because they saw that they were fair, and then,
-like men, they would have chosen wrongly.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was not many days before the Widow Moran heard of Michael
-Herican, or many weeks before she had decided that he should be
-the husband of her child. True, she knew of his betrothal, for
-his name was rarely spoken unconnected with the name of Mary
-Carrol, but this made no difference. The pale-faced step-daughter
-of the drunken Davanagh was of no consequence to her, and to the
-right or wrong of her designs she never gave a thought. Whatever
-she wished, she determined to have. Whatever she determined to
-have, she set herself industriously to secure. So when she
-marketed, it was Michael's boat from which she purchased. When
-there was a message to send to Sligo, or packages from thence to
-be brought home to her, it was Michael's boat that carried it.
-When she had work to be done around her cottage, it waited until
-Michael had an idle day, and then he was hired to do it. Well
-skilled, as every woman is, in arts like these, she used her
-knowledge and her chances all too well.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_391">{391}</a></span>
-<p>
-It is but just to say that Kitty Moran had no share in her
-mother's wicked plans. She was young and gay. Michael Herican was
-the finest young man in the village. It was not disagreeable to
-her to watch him and to talk with him, as he worked by her
-directions in the little garden, or to sit beside him at their
-noontide meal. Unconsciously, she grew to miss him when he was
-away at sea, to have a welcome for him in her heart when he came
-home, to look for him with impatience when she knew that his
-vocation brought him back to her. Before she was aware of it, she
-loved him; and when she realized her love, she threw herself into
-it, as her one absorbing passion, without a dream of its results
-or a suspicion of her error. She would not, for an empire, have
-deliberately wronged the patient girl whom, by the stern law of
-contraries, she had already learned to cherish, but to her love
-there was no limit, no moderation. She could not help loving
-Michael Herican, and no more could she mete out or restrain her
-love. So, when it mastered her, it <i>was</i> her master, and her
-reason and her conscience were whirled away before the rushing
-tide of passion like bubbles on the bosom of a cataract.
-</p>
-<p>
-How Michael Herican came to love this new maiden not even he
-himself could tell. Rochefoucault says, "It is in man's power
-neither to love nor to refrain from loving." And false as this
-may be as a general law of life, there are cases in which it
-appears almost divinely true. It was so in his. He simply could
-not help it. When he compared the calm, deep, tried affection of
-the heart that had been his for years with the tumultuous
-outburst of this impetuous soul, his judgment taught him there
-ought to be no such comparison between them. He never had one
-doubt as to his duty. He fought nobly and manfully against the
-spell that seemed to be upon him. He would gladly have left
-Easky, and have stretched his voyages beyond the northern seas;
-but he could not leave Mary and her mother there alone. He
-thought of hastening his marriage, thereby to put an end to all
-possibility of faithlessness, (and this is what he should have
-done,) but he had no reason for it that he dared to give. It was
-a fearful trial for him, and would have bred despair in stronger
-hearts than his, if such there be. He became lax and careless in
-his business, harsh and moody in his intercourse with others. A
-few tattling croakers, here and there, wiser than the rest, laid
-the evil at the Widow Moran's door; but they could give no proof
-when asked for it, and the frowns and chidings of the
-neighborhood soon put them down.
-</p>
-<p>
-In this way things went on for months. The day drew near when the
-wedding-feast should usher in a new life to the waiting pair. It
-was a drawing near of doom to him. The enchantment had not
-weakened by indulgence. The siren's song was as soft and
-seductive as when its first notes took possession of his soul.
-Feeling as he did toward Kathleen Moran, he would not marry Mary
-Carrol, although from his heart of hearts he could have sworn
-that his love for her had known no change or diminution. Nor did
-he dare to tell her that the fascinations of the stranger had
-enchained him; for he knew that he was all she had, and all she
-loved. But it could not go on thus always, and he knew it.
-Something must be done. Had it been the mere sacrifice of
-himself, he would not have hesitated for a moment. As little did
-he hesitate between marrying where he did not love supremely, and
-not marrying at all.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_392">{392}</a></span>
-He had a conscience, and when his conscience decided between
-these, and told him that he must not marry Mary Carrol, it
-compelled him also to go to her and in plain words tell her so.
-</p>
-<p>
-It almost killed her. The shock was so great, at the moment,
-mightily though she strove to command herself, that her life was
-in immediate danger. After a while she rallied again, a very
-ghost to what she had been, though little else before. Her mother
-bore the blow less calmly. She could not understand the
-powerlessness of the one to save himself, or the self-sacrifice
-of the other, which gave up her life's last greatest hope without
-a murmur. She felt the disappointment keenly, but the injury
-more. Dispositions, that through all her sorrows had never been
-apparent in her character, began to show themselves. She grew
-stem and vengeful in place of her old meekness and submission,
-and brooded over their cruel wrong until it became a second
-nature with her to impute to Michael Herican all her troubles,
-and curse him in her heart as the destroyer of her child.
-</p>
-<p>
-Of course all Easky soon knew the grief that had come to Bridget
-Davanagh's household; and, not unnaturally, most of them sided
-with her in her condemnation of Michael Herican. They could not
-understand, they would not have believed, that he was under the
-dominion of a passion which he could neither escape nor resist.
-To them there was no fascination in the Widow Moran's daughter,
-and they loved the mother too little for them to suppose that any
-one could love the child. It was a hard lot for her, poor girl,
-to hear their cutting censures passed upon her as the cause of
-Mary Carrol's sufferings; for the people of that uncultivated
-neighborhood did not care to conceal their bitterness beneath
-soft-spoken words, and did not hesitate to tell her to her face
-all that they felt concerning her. Nor spared they Michael
-Herican. Old men and young greeted him now with looks askance and
-cold, instead of the warm welcomes which every hearth had had for
-him a month before. And every woman in Easky, except the few old
-crones who grudgingly had wished him well when all was well with
-him, went by him on the other side, and prayed the saints to
-deliver their young maidens from such faithless lovers as he.
-</p>
-<p>
-Intolerable as all this was to him, and unjust as it would have
-been, even in their sight who did it, could they have known how
-he had fought against his destiny, it still had its inevitable
-effect upon him. As there was but one house in Easky where he met
-a cordial greeting, that house became his continual resort. As
-there was but one heart into which he could look and find
-responsive love, he sought his consolation in that heart alone.
-To Mary Carrol he would gladly have continued to be a friend and
-brother, but her mother would not suffer him to come inside the
-doors, and if the broken-hearted maiden could have received his
-kindnesses, they would have been to her a mockery worse than
-death. Thus Kathleen Moran's was sometimes the only voice he
-heard for days, her smile the only smile ever bestowed upon him,
-and she became, in time, as necessary to his existence as Eve to
-Adam. They were almost always together. He made longer voyages,
-and took longer rests; and, when on shore, rarely left the roof
-under which she dwelt. But he had no definite aim and purpose for
-which to earn, or to lay up his earnings. He never trusted
-himself to plan for, or look upon the future.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_393">{393}</a></span>
-He never yet had dreamed of marrying Kitty Moran. The light had
-fallen out of his life as effectually as out of Mary Carrol's;
-and it would have seemed to him as bootless to have heaped
-together money as it would to her to have finished and arranged
-her bridal gear.
-</p>
-<p>
-A year like this told terribly upon him. The indignation of the
-villagers did not abate with time, and more and more did Michael
-Herican become an outlaw. It was strange that an event which, in
-the swift whirl of our metropolitan career, we meet almost every
-day, should have made such an impression on the minds of sturdy
-men and women. But it was the first time, in the memory of man,
-that an Easky lover had proved faithless to an Easky maid, and
-these rude hearts were as honest in their hate as in their love.
-He bore it as long as he could, but he was only human; and when
-the Widow Moran, herself made most uncomfortable by the active
-hostility of her neighbors, determined to return to Sligo, he was
-only too willing to go with her. He sold the little cottage where
-his forefathers had lived and died for many generations, and bade
-farewell for ever to the home where he had known so many years of
-happiness, such months of weary suffering.
-</p>
-<p>
-If Mary Carrol suffered less in conscience and in self-respect
-than Michael Herican, her suffering made far more fearful havoc
-with her bodily and mental health. The privations of her
-childhood had sown the seeds of premature decay; and, at her best
-and strongest, she was frail and weakly. The shock she had
-sustained when her life's hopes were shattered had partially
-unsettled her mind, and physical disease, now slowly developing,
-sank her into hopeless imbecility. She was not violent or
-peevish. She never needed any restraint, and, usually, but little
-care. She would sit all day in the sunlight, listening to the
-roaring of the sea, her hands folded in her lap, and her great
-blue eyes gazing out vacantly into the sky. She knew enough to
-keep herself from danger, and, at long intervals would go alone
-into the narrow street, and wander up and down, groping her way
-like a blind person, yet taking no notice of anything that passed
-around her. It was a sad sight, indeed, for any eyes to see, but,
-far more so to those who knew her history, and could repeat the
-story of the cruel wound she bore. There was not among them a
-heart that did not bleed for her, and scarce a hand that could
-not have been nerved to vengeance, if the blood of her destroyer
-could have put away her doom.
-</p>
-<p>
-The old woman&mdash;God knows how old in sorrows!&mdash;became more firm
-and resolute as her daughter grew more helpless. She never
-wearied in doing all that a mother's heart could prompt, but it
-was gall and bitterness to her that Mary suffered so
-uncomplainingly. If she could once have heard her say one hateful
-word of Michael Herican, it would have satisfied her, but she
-never did. She learned that Michael had left his home, and had
-gone with the Morans, and she felt as if she were robbed of her
-prey. Not that she ever purposed ill to him, but she did wish it,
-and the scoffs and denunciations of his neighbors seemed to her
-so many weapons in her hands against him. Alas! for her that this
-should be the lot of Patrick Carrol's bride.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_394">{394}</a></span>
-<p>
-It might have been a half year since the widow and her victim
-left Easky, and the midsummer days had come. Mary Carrol had been
-so long an invalid, and, in her many wanderings, had been so
-singularly free from harm, that her absence from the cottage
-caused her mother no surprise or fear. The village children, as
-they met her rambling in the fields, would sometimes lead her
-home, and the seaward-going fishermen would often watch her
-footsteps on the beach with fond solicitude; but they became
-accustomed to it by and by, and let her have her way.
-</p>
-<p>
-One cloudless day in July she had strayed out at early dawn while
-the dew was scarcely dry, and wandered off along the shore,
-beyond the furthest cottage. The matron of that house, as she
-went by, sent out her little boy to see that she came to no
-danger, but in a moment he returned to say that she was sitting
-on a broken rock out of the water's reach, and so for the time
-she was forgotten. The day wore on, and Bridget Davanagh grew
-lonely in her desolate home. A dread of coming evil fell upon
-her, and, though her cup already so ran over that she could
-hardly realize the possibility of further misfortune, she could
-not shake off the new shadow. Restless and uneasy, she started
-out to seek her child. She hurried past the village eastwardly
-along the sands. She peered into every crevice of the rocky coast
-that was large enough to hide a sea-gull's nest, and hunted
-behind every fallen fragment that might conceal the object of her
-quest. Slowly, for it was severest toil to her aged feet, she
-groped over one mile after another, until the lofty cap of
-Anghris Head rose up before her. She had never been so near it
-since that fearful day, long years ago, when she came out to see
-the mangled body of her young husband lying underneath its stormy
-crags. And now there came over her an impulse to go there once
-again; again to visit the place where the waves cast him in their
-murderous wrath; the place whither she event last to meet him
-when he last came home to her. So she climbed over the huge
-boulders, one by one, in the declining sunlight, till she stood
-directly underneath that ragged spire which Anghris lifts aloft
-above the waves, and there she saw the spot where her beloved had
-lain in his sad hour of death. There, too, she found her
-daughter, lying on the same rocky couch where her father lay
-before her, one arm beneath her head, her face turned up to
-heaven in the unbreaking slumber of the dead.
-</p>
-<p>
-This same midsummer's day brought news, from Sligo to Easky, that
-Michael Herican had married Kitty Moran, and that the widow's
-heartless schemes had been accomplished.
-</p>
-<p>
-The house of Bridget Davanagh was now desolate indeed. Her son
-lost for ever in the unknown waters. Her daughter sleeping in the
-village churchyard, bearing the burden of her cross no more.
-There was no cheer for her in the well-meant gossip of her
-neighbors. There was no comfort for her in the promise of a land,
-beyond this mortal, of perpetual rest. If her religious instincts
-and principles were still alive, they remained dumb and dormant.
-She could not read. She loved not company. Her few personal
-necessities rendered much bodily toil superfluous, and, when her
-work was done, she had no other occupation than to sit down and
-brood over her sorrows. The range of her thought was narrow. She
-had no future to look forward to. Her eyes were only on the past,
-and the past held for her but two figures&mdash;her murdered Mary and
-her Mary's murderer. It was in vain that the good parish priest
-sought to divert her mind and lead her to better things; for,
-though she said but little and that quietly, he could see, like
-all who now came intimately near her, that her faculties were
-clouded and her control over her will and imagination almost
-totally destroyed.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_395">{395}</a></span>
-<p>
-How long she might have lived thus without becoming fully crazed
-was, fortunately, never tested. A letter came to her one evening,
-bearing a foreign post-mark, and dotted over with the many
-colored stamps which tell of journeys upon sea and land. It was
-the first letter she had ever received. No relative or friend, no
-acquaintance except Michael Herican, has she out of Easky, and
-she was sorely puzzled, as she broke the seal and turned the
-pages up and down and sideways, in the useless attempt to tell
-from whence it came. She called in a passing school-child to
-decipher it, and, as he blundered through its weary lines, she
-sat with her face buried in her hands, rocking her body
-ceaselessly to and fro. He reached the end and read the signature
-of "Bernard Davanagh." The widow's boy still lived. She lifted
-her worn face out of her hands and the tears chased each other
-down her cheeks. They eased her throbbing brain, and she bade the
-child go over it again, for of its first reading she had scarcely
-heard a word except the name. And now she learned that he was in
-America. He had been left sick on shore, at the last voyage of
-his ill-fated vessel, and escaped alive. Since then he had been
-tossed on every sea which bears a name, till, tired of the toil
-and danger, he had settled in the far-off mining regions of the
-western continent. He now sent for her and Mary to come out to
-him, enclosing money and passage certificates for each, and
-saying that in two month's time he hoped to have them both with
-him in his new home. It was a long time before the old woman
-could comprehend the message; but, when she once really
-understood that Bernard was alive, she would have started on the
-instant to reach her boy. Her idea of the distance was, that
-America lay somewhere out beyond Dromore, as far, perhaps, as
-that was from Easky, and it was with difficulty that the
-neighbors, who came flocking in when the news went flitting up
-and down the street, could control her. Those who stayed with her
-through the night, and those who went back homeward, had settled
-it, however, before morning dawned, that, though the journey
-might be fearful and the chances few, it was better she should go
-and perish by the way, than stay at home to grieve, and craze,
-and die.
-</p>
-<p>
-There was not much preparation. Her cottage sold, her furniture
-distributed among her friends, the other passage-paper given to a
-woman in Dromore, who eagerly grasped the chance of going out to
-seek her husband, and Bridget Davanagh left Easky and its graves
-for ever. The emigrant best knows the weariness and hardship of a
-steerage passage in a crowded ship, and this old and worn-out
-woman endured them as a thousand others, old and feeble, have
-done since then and before. But the long voyage had an end some
-time, and, in a day after the ship was moored at New York
-wharves, the mother had found her son. He had a cabin built and
-furnished, deep in the wild gorge of a mountain, out of whose
-sides the glittering anthracite was torn by hundreds of tons a
-day; and here he took her to live and care for him. Not a face
-around her that she ever saw before; the dialect of their
-language so differing from her own that she could only here and
-there make out a word; Bernard himself grown up into a tall,
-stout, burly man, black with dust and reeking with soot and oil,
-she longed almost fiercely for her home by the green sea, and
-wished herself back again a score of times a day.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_396">{396}</a></span>
-When her homesickness wore off, as it slowly did, and she formed
-new acquaintances, and grew familiar with the scenes around her;
-above all, when she began to realize the comforts which the new
-world gave beyond the old&mdash;she became reconciled to her strange
-life, and seemed almost herself again. Only when, now and then,
-her spite and hatred to the name of Herican broke out again did
-her mind reel with its fury; otherwise, she was more like Bridget
-Davanagh in her early days of second widowhood than she had been
-for years.
-</p>
-<p>
-Meanwhile, of Michael Herican. He had married Kitty Moran, as the
-Easky story said. It was, on his part, an act of sheer despair.
-Not that he did not love her. His passion had grown stronger and
-more absorbing every hour, and she well returned it. But it was
-no calm conclusion of his judgment that led him to unite his life
-with hers. It was more like the suicide of a felon who sees his
-fate before him, but would rather die by his own free act,
-to-day, than anticipate inevitable death to-morrow. When the
-Widow Moran "went to her own place," her fortune fell to them. He
-opened a little store, and, for a while, life, cheered by
-business, seemed more bearable; but misfortune followed him and,
-by one loss and another, both his credit and his stock were
-sacrificed. Honest to the last farthing, he stripped himself of
-everything to pay his debts, and turned himself and his young
-wife, to whom privation had ever been a stranger, into the
-streets&mdash;to work, or beg, or starve. Then, for a time, he went to
-sea; but the lone hours of watchful idleness upon the deep gave
-him too many opportunities for recollection, and he could not
-endure it. As a common hireling he worked about the docks, and
-earned by this chance toil a meagre pittance for the bare
-necessities of life. But he could not settle permanently to
-anything. Of good abilities, with strong arms and a willing
-heart, it was this mental burden only which unmanned him, and
-this pursued him everywhere and always, like an avenging ghost.
-Then he began to wander. From Sligo they went to Ballina, and
-thence to Galway, and thence to Dublin, living awhile in each,
-but evermore a restless, wavering, aimless man. His poor wife
-suffered fearfully. Deprived of all the comforts she had ever
-known, and cut down sometimes to a mere apology for food and
-clothing, she rued the day when she was born; but she never
-blamed her husband. Through all, she clung to him faithfully; and
-when she found herself, at last, in the lowest portion of the
-capital, and living among those whose touch in other days would
-have been infection, however else she murmured, it was never
-against him. They stayed in Dublin for a year and more. A child
-was born there, but it soon died from exposure and insufficient
-food, and this made the mother's heart uneasy, and she longed to
-move. A berth fell in his way on board a homeward-bound Canadian
-timber-ship, and he agreed to go. He also paid the passage of his
-wife with labor, and, in due time, their weary feet were standing
-on the shores of a new world, ready for other journeys and,
-perhaps, better paths.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_397">{397}</a></span>
-<p>
-But it did not so eventuate. He was the same man still, though
-under other skies. There was a doom upon him. His family grew on
-his hands and opened in his heart new chambers of affection, but
-they could give no ballast to his brain. He could not anchor
-anywhere. The weird ship that sails up and down antarctic seas in
-an eternal voyage is no more harborless than was he. He fought
-the forests, axe in hand, and smote down many pillars of the
-olden fane. He toiled on board the river-craft that drift to and
-fro upon the broad St. Lawrence. He was a stevedore in Quebec, a
-laborer in Montreal. So he worked on from one town to another,
-fretting away his own existence, wearing out the health and
-strength of his devoted wife, until he reached the "States," and,
-by some mysterious fatality, came into the very village where
-Bernard Davanagh and his mother lived. Here he found work
-congenial to his tastes. The dark gloom of the long tunnels
-underground, the ghastly lamps, and, more than all, the exciting
-danger of the labor, kept his mind on the stretch and drowned his
-memory more effectually than it had ever been before. He did not
-know the nearness of Mary Carrol's mother. He would as soon have
-dreamed of meeting his dead children in the street as her, and
-his work late and early kept him out of sight, so that they did
-not hear of him.
-</p>
-<p>
-But it happened on one Sunday morning, as he went to Mass in the
-great town, two miles away, that he heard the name of "Bernard"
-called by some one in the throng. He looked anxiously around him,
-and had no difficulty in recognizing, in the features of the man
-addressed, the son of the detested Bernard Davanagh of his youth.
-Had he not known the contrary, he might have thought it that very
-father stepped out of his grave. The recognition was not mutual,
-but the unquiet heart of Michael Herican reeked little of the
-sacrifice that day, for thinking where this new phase of his life
-would end. He feared no bodily injury. He had not lost his animal
-courage by his sufferings. But he felt like Orestes at the
-banquet, when he dispels with wine the knowledge of the
-ever-present furies, and then suddenly beholds the gorgon face
-pressed closely up to his. He saw in this an omen that, go where
-he would, the wrongs of Mary Carrol must live on outside him, as
-they did within.
-</p>
-<p>
-How Bridget Davanagh and her son became aware that Michael
-Herican and his family were near them, it is of little
-consequence to know. When they did find it out, however, it was
-an evil greater in its results to them than to their enemy.
-Bernard had warmly espoused his mother's hatred, and added to it
-the natural fierceness of his own disposition. The discovery of
-her child's betrayer, and an occasional glimpse of him as he went
-by, revived all the old woman's vengefulness, and aggravated it
-beyond control. If Kathleen Herican had known all this, sick of
-her wandering life as she might be, she would not have stayed
-near them for a single hour. But she did not know it. Bernard and
-Bridget she had never seen in Easky, and Michael never told her
-they were here. Thus she, at least, lived on unconsciously, while
-vengeance sharpened its relentless sword for retribution, and
-hung it by an ever-weakening hair over the head of him she loved
-most of all.
-</p>
-<p>
-Up to the morning of the fatal day no word or sign had passed
-between Michael Herican and either of the Davanaghs. But, as he
-went by to his work that morning, they both stood in their cabin
-door. The old woman could not resist the impulse to curse him as
-he passed her, and Bernard was as ready with his malison as she.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_398">{398}</a></span>
-Michael turned up the path that led toward them, and tried to
-speak in friendliness, but they would not hear him. At last,
-exasperated by their violence and abuse, he told the mother she
-was mad&mdash;mad as her daughter had been before her. It was a cruel
-word for him to speak, cruel for them to hear; but he did not
-mean it. It smote upon him as he hurried off to his work, and the
-image of the dead Mary came back and upbraided him many times
-that day. He left his work early, and went home. There was a
-strange look in his eye which made the timid heart of Kathleen
-beat faster when she saw it, and he was more than usually kind
-and tender to her and his child. His half-eaten supper over, he
-took his woodman's basket, and went out to gather fagots for the
-morning's fire. On his way home with others who had been on the
-like errand, as he came opposite the Davanagh cottage, the mother
-and the son came out and rushed upon him. One struck him with a
-stone, and felled him to the earth. The other smote him with an
-axe, and cleft his skull. It was all over in an instant. Not a
-word was said. The horror-stricken neighbors stood aghast a
-moment. When they came to their senses, Bernard Davanagh was
-climbing up the mountain on the further side of the ravine, and
-Bridget Davanagh, with bolted doors, kept ward in her devoted
-house alone.
-</p>
-<p>
-They would have lifted Michael Herican from the roadside where he
-lay, but he was dead. The red blood oozed out of the gaping
-wound. It trickled on in narrow streamlets down the path. It
-clotted on the feet of men and women who came to gaze upon the
-mangled corpse. It stained the hands, and face, and garments of
-his wife and baby as they lay sobbing and shrieking on his
-pulseless breast. It dried up in the purple sunlight of the dying
-day, and soaked away into the dust and ashes of the trampled
-street.
-</p>
-<p>
-I have little else to tell. The circumstances of the story, as I
-heard them, piece by piece, left on my mind an impression which
-would not let me stand by and do nothing. I was satisfied that,
-if not absolutely crazed, the murderess had acted in a moment of
-exceeding passion, no doubt resulting from the rankling words her
-victim spoke to her on the morning of that day; and, in her
-unsettled state of mind, the ordinary presumptions of the law,
-that passion cannot last, were not reliable. It seemed unjust, to
-me, that she should suffer the highest penalty known to our law,
-when probably her guilt was actually less than that of hundreds
-whom a few years in the state prison give their due. I therefore
-drew up a petition which the presiding judge and nearly all of
-the convicting jury signed, praying a commutation of her sentence
-to imprisonment for life. The prayer was granted, and Bridget
-Davanagh lives and will die an inmate of the Eastern Penitentiary
-of Pennsylvania.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_399">{399}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-      <h2>The Philosophy Of Immigration.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-It is strange that while so many of the most enlightened minds of
-the country are engaged in the investigation of the mysteries of
-social and physical sciences, so few, if any, appear to give the
-least attention to the phenomenon of American immigration; a
-study which is equal in importance to any that can come within
-the purview of the economist, and of much more practical value to
-us, nationally, than most of the developments of nature,
-considered in her material aspect.
-</p>
-<p>
-The researches of geologists and astronomers often supply us with
-curious and pleasing discoveries, and the laws which regulate
-commerce and labor, manufactures and capital, are doubtless well
-worth the attention of intelligent public men; but not more so
-than the habits, qualifications, and destiny of the millions of
-foreigners who of late years have made their homes among us, and
-who are still annually coming in myriads to our shores.
-</p>
-<p>
-It may safely be said that neither ancient nor modern history
-presents a parallel to this American immigration. The emigration
-from the plains of Shinar was a dispersion of one people over the
-surface of the globe, a disintegration of a nation into several
-fragments, each particle the nucleus of a separate and
-independent race, speaking a peculiar tongue, and destined to
-establish distinct laws and forms of religion. Ours is the
-convergence of many peoples to one common centre, silently
-arraying themselves under a uniform system of public polity,
-yielding up their own political predilections, and to a certain
-extent their creeds and language, and destined eventually to
-profess one faith and speak one language. Subsequent migrations
-in the old world offer points as strikingly dissimilar as the
-first great exodus. Those were nothing else than succeeding waves
-of population borne from one portion of the earth to the other,
-generally preceded and heralded by fire and sword, and ending in
-the subjugation and spoliation of the inhabitants of that country
-over which they swept with irresistible violence. Our immigrants,
-on the contrary, come to us in detail, peaceably to enjoy the
-benefits of our laws and to respect our institutions, with no
-thought of conquest but such as may be suggested by our yet
-untilled fields of the west and our comparatively undeveloped
-mineral treasures.
-</p>
-<p>
-Viewed in this light, our knowledge of the past gives no rules of
-guidance in our relations with this new and very important
-element of our population, and it becomes the duty of every
-patriot jealous of the welfare and reputation of his land to draw
-lessons of wisdom from every-day, experience, in order to help
-direct this perennial flood of life into the most proper and
-useful channels. A country's true wealth lies primarily in its
-population; the product of its soil is its surest and most
-permanent concomitant. To give a helping hand and a word of cheer
-and advice to those future citizens and parents of citizens is
-the common duty of humanity and patriotism; to protect them until
-sufficiently domiciled to be able to protect themselves, is the
-absolute duty of our legislators.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_400">{400}</a></span>
-<p>
-The city of New York, being the centre of the commerce of the
-country, is necessarily the objective point of European
-emigration, though many of our neighboring seaports receive their
-proportionate share of the precious human freight. It will be
-scarcely credited that in the space of twenty-one years, ending
-with 1867, there arrived at this city alone no less than <i>three
-million eight hundred and thirty-two thousand four hundred and
-four</i> immigrants, or a number almost equal in amount to the
-entire white population of the country at the time of the
-Revolution. [Footnote 117] Those arrivals included natives of
-every country in Europe, China, Turkey, Arabia, East and West
-Indies, South America, Mexico, and the lower British Provinces.
-Emigrants from Ireland and Germany were of course largely in
-excess of all others. Until 1861, these two countries were nearly
-equally represented, the numbers from them for fourteen years
-previously being respectively 1,107,034 and 979,575, or nearly
-four fifths of the whole arrivals. Since that year the German
-element has largely preponderated, and is now equal to one half
-the entire immigration. England, Scotland, France, and
-Switzerland follow next in rotation, the northern countries of
-Europe supplying a respectable number in proportion to their
-sparse population, and the southern countries, like Spain and
-Portugal, comparatively few.
-</p>
-<div class="footnote_color">
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 117: We are indebted to Bernard Casserly, Esq., the
-    efficient General Superintendent under the Commissioners of
-    Emigration, for the following official report of arrivals at
-    Castle Garden:
-<br><br>
-<table>
-<tr><td>1847</td><td>129,062</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1848</td><td>189,176</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1849</td><td>220,791</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1850</td><td>212,603</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1851</td><td>289,601</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1852</td><td>300,992</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1853</td><td>284,945</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1854</td><td>319,223</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1855</td><td>136,233</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1856</td><td>142,342</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1857</td><td>183,773</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1858</td><td>78,589</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1859</td><td>79,322</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1860</td><td>105,162</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1861</td><td>65,539</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1862</td><td>76,306</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1863</td><td>167,844</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1864</td><td>182,396</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1865</td><td>196,352</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1866</td><td>233,418</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1867</td><td>242,730</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Total</td><td>3,832,404</td></tr>
-</table>
-]
-</div>
-
-<p>
-It were beyond the scope of this article to enter into an
-extended inquiry as to the cause of this unequal abandonment of
-nationality on the part of our new denizens. The misgovernment of
-Ireland, which culminated in the terrible famine of 1846-7-8, and
-the natural affinity of the people of that country for the
-advantages afforded by free governments, will easily account for
-the immensity of their numbers who have sought political and
-social independence in this republic; while the low rewards of
-labor and the heavy burdens of taxation experienced by the German
-in his own home, form powerful incentives in his economical mind
-to change his condition and abandon the fatherland of which he is
-so justly proud. The same reasons, to a lesser extent perhaps,
-operate on Englishmen and Scotchmen, with the additional one of
-the rapid growth of our infant manufactures requiring the
-experience of the workmen of Leeds, Birmingham, and Glasgow.
-Spain and Portugal, the pioneers of immigration in former ages,
-though now not essentially an emigrant people, as a general rule
-prefer Central and South America, where their languages are
-spoken and their religion universally established; while France,
-of all European countries the least disposed to colonization,
-has, on account of political troubles, sent us many of her best
-mechanics, and Italy some of her finest artists.
-</p>
-<p>
-With the influx of such vast unorganized masses of strangers,
-representing all conditions, ages, and degrees, into one port,
-and considering the unusual trials and dangers of a long
-sea-voyage, it is not to be wondered at that a great amount of
-sickness and distress should be developed; but we are glad to
-know that all that private benevolence and judicious legislation
-could do has been done for the unfortunate.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_401">{401}</a></span>
-Refuges for the destitute and hospitals for the sick have been
-established in this neighborhood. Employment for the idle, food
-for the hungry, and transportation for the penniless have been
-provided by the Commissioners of Emigration with a free and even
-profuse liberality. Nearly thirty <i>per centum</i>of the total
-arrivals, each year, have been thus benefited without any cost
-whatever to the state, the money required being derived from a
-fund created mainly by a small commutation-tax on each emigrant
-passenger. Though this fund, as we have said, is especially
-intended for the protection and support of immigrants, a portion
-of it has necessarily been expended in the erection or purchase
-of valuable buildings, requisite for the purposes of the
-commission, all of which will revert to the state when no longer
-required for their original objects.[Footnote 118]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 118:  This property, besides some on Staten Island,
-    consists of one hundred and eight acres of land with water
-    rights, etc., on Ward's Island, in the East River, upon which
-    the commissioners have built very spacious and substantial
-    structures, such as five hospitals capable of accommodating
-    eight hundred patients; four houses of refuge for destitute
-    males and females; a nursery, lunatic asylum, and two
-    chapels, besides a number of residences for the officers of
-    these institutions, out-offices, etc.&mdash;<i>See Commissioners'
-    Report</i>, 1868.]
-</p>
-<p>
-But this is not the only direct pecuniary advantage which we
-derive from immigration. In 1856 it was ascertained that the
-average cash means of every person landing at Castle Garden was
-about sixty-eight dollars, a sum which, considering the improved
-condition of those who have since arrived, must amount to much
-more <i>per capita</i>, still, taking the standard of that year,
-we find that in twenty-one years over three hundred and twenty
-millions of dollars have been brought to the country and put into
-direct circulation. Its effect on our shipping interest will be
-appreciated when we learn  that during 1867 there were engaged in
-the passenger business alone, at this port, two hundred and
-forty-five sailing vessels and four hundred and four steamships,
-requiring large investments of capital and employing thousands of
-men.
-</p>
-<p>
-It would be impossible to estimate the indirect stimulus given to
-the general interests of the Union by the acquisition of so much
-skilled labor and brawny muscle. We can see its developments,
-however, in the rapid rise of our towns and cities, the superior
-condition of arts and manufactures, and the extraordinary
-increase of our agricultural productions. Coming from so many
-lands, each heretofore celebrated for some peculiar excellence,
-the European artisan, while he does not necessarily excel his
-American fellow-workmen in the aggregate, contributes his special
-knowledge to the general stock of industrial information. The
-Swede brings his knowledge of metallurgy, the Englishman of
-woolens, the Italian of silk; the German, of grape culture, and
-the Frenchman, of those finer fabrics and arts of design for
-which his country has been so long famous. When the ancient
-Grecian sculptor designed to make a representation of the human
-form in all its perfection, he selected, it is said, six
-beautiful living models, copying from each some member more
-perfect than the rest, and thus, by the combination of several
-excellences, modelled a perfect and harmonious whole, in which
-were combined grace, beauty, and harmony. So the republic,
-availing itself of the genius and skill which every country sends
-us so superabundantly, may attain that general superiority in the
-arts of peace which was formerly divided among many nations.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_402">{402}</a></span>
-<p>
-The destination of this flood of knowledge and strength forms not
-the least interesting phase of this subject. From the data before
-us, we find that the State of New York retains about forty-four
-per cent; the Western States receive over twenty five; the Middle
-States, eleven; the New England States, eight; the Pacific slope,
-two, and the Southern States a little less than two per cent, the
-residue being scattered among various portions of the continent
-outside of our jurisdiction. The comparatively small number who
-have sought homes in the South may be accounted for partly by the
-occurrence of our late civil war, but principally by the peculiar
-organization of labor in that section before the abolition of
-slavery. In [the] future we may expect a much greater percentage
-of people, particularly from Southern Europe, to assist in
-developing the almost inexhaustible wealth of such states as
-Georgia and Tennessee. It is to be regretted that no record has
-been kept of the nationalities and occupations of those who so
-instinctively choose their favorite sections of our country; but
-our own everyday experience, and the laws of labor and climate,
-enable us to form a sufficiently accurate general opinion.
-Irishmen, though not adverse to agricultural pursuits, generally
-prefer large cities and towns, like those of New England, where
-skilled labor is least required in the production of fabrics. The
-Germans, on the contrary, though quite numerous in New York,
-Philadelphia, and St. Louis, avoid New England, and prefer
-farming in the Western States, in some of which they already form
-a majority of the rural population. Englishmen are to be met with
-either in the Eastern factories or in the Atlantic cities,
-keeping up a business connection with their countrymen at home.
-Frenchmen find a market for their superior mechanical skill amid
-the luxury of large cities, and are seldom tillers of the soil,
-while a Welsh miner (if he do[es] not find his way to Salt Lake)
-goes as naturally to Pennsylvania, and the slate quarries of New
-York and Vermont, as the Swede and Norwegian do to the northern
-parts of Michigan and Wisconsin. The mode of emigration may have
-something to do with these selections. The continental nations,
-particularly the Germans, understand migration better than their
-insular neighbors, always leaving home in families and groups,
-and settling down in small colonies where, as in all new
-countries, union is strength; but the inhabitants of Ireland and
-the other islands of the United Kingdom too frequently emigrate,
-one member of a family at a time, without system or organization,
-to the great disruption of those ties of relationship which are
-always a bond of unity and a source of comfort, amid the
-hardships attendant on great changes of habitation.
-</p>
-<p>
-Considering the various manners, habits, and opinions of so many
-nationalities, some of them, if not repugnant, at least strange
-to the native-born of America, the power of absorption possessed
-by the people of the United States is astonishing. Columbia,
-taking to her ample bosom the fiery Celt and the phlegmatic
-Teuton, the self-asserting Briton and the <i>débonnaire</i> Gaul,
-smiles complacently at their peculiarities, or, remembering the
-good qualities which underlie such eccentricities, waits
-patiently for time and example to cure them; and we venture to
-assert that the German feels himself as free to indulge in his
-national games and festivals in New York or Buffalo as if he were
-in Vienna or Berlin, and the Irishman can dance as lively and
-attend a wake or a wedding with as light a heart, and as free
-from hindrance as if he had never left his own green isle.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_403">{403}</a></span>
-In justice, also, to the immigrant, it must be said that, once
-settled in America, he gives to its government his hearty and
-unqualified allegiance, notwithstanding the occasional spasmodic
-attempts of a despicable few to subject him to ridicule and
-social ostracism. How many instances do we find of worthy men
-who, having gained a competency here, acting upon that natural
-and beautiful love of native land, return to the homes of their
-childhood to end their days, but who almost invariably return to
-us and the scenes of their manhood's toils and triumphs!
-</p>
-<p>
-There are two other sources of accession to our population,
-independent of that of acquisition of territory, which are worthy
-of notice. The first, of present importance, is the passage of
-our borders by natives of Lower Canada, and which, though now
-more than usually remarkable, has been going on quietly but
-steadily for at least a hundred years. [Footnote 119]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 119: Five hundred French Canadians took passage at
-    Montreal, C. E., for the United States, in one week, during
-    March, 1869.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The French Canadians are a decidedly <i>unique</i> people.
-Originally from Normandy, early deprived of the protection of
-France, and practically cut off from their fellow-countrymen by
-the cessation of emigration, they have still retained all the
-primitive simplicity, keenness, and hardiness of their ancestors.
-Increasing in numbers with extraordinary rapidity, they have
-tenaciously adhered to their faith, language, and manners of
-life, in face of the opposition of a dominant and intolerant
-master. They have not only, so far, held their own against
-English laws and customs; but, despite the increase of British
-colonists among them, they have nearly, if not altogether, kept
-pace in numbers with the English-speaking inhabitants of the two
-Canadas. They have likewise constantly shot forth numerous hardy
-offshoots which have taken root and flourished in the far west.
-Detroit, La Salle, Dubuque, St. Louis, St. Paul, Sault Ste.
-Marie, and many other western centres of wealth and population,
-were first selected and settled by those enterprising followers
-of Jacques Cartier and the missionary fathers, and their names
-are still honored in those places. Many of the later immigrants
-from Canada find employment in our seaboard cities, but the
-majority either still seek the northwest, as being more congenial
-in climate, and offering more opportunities for that spirit of
-adventure which distinguishes the race, or go directly to
-California, where so many of the French people have already
-settled.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Chinese immigration to the Pacific coast is one of the most
-unaccountable events in the history of that section of our
-country, and one which may well attract serious public attention.
-Those people, remarkable for centuries for their ingenuity and
-industry, as well as for their exclusiveness and dislike to
-foreigners, have at last crossed the Rubicon that confined them
-within the limits of the Celestial empire, and when we reflect
-that that empire contains within itself nearly half the
-population of the world, we can readily suppose that a few
-millions, more or less, transplanted to the new world would not
-very perceptibly diminish its influence or strength. The Chinamen
-are represented as quiet and docile, economical in their way of
-living, and working for small wages, and as being eminently
-adapted for the building of railroads, and the development of the
-mineral wealth with which nature has so lavishly enriched the
-territory on both slopes of the Rocky Mountains, and, being as
-yet only a moiety of the population, are easily controlled. But,
-should the tide of Asiatic emigration commence to flow freely
-eastward, the gravest fears are entertained by many that it would
-lead either to the systematic oppression or even partial
-enslavement of the Chinese themselves, or to the deterioration of
-the Caucasians of that beautiful region, soon destined to become
-the garden of America.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_404">{404}</a></span>
-<p>
-Taking into account, however, the great adaptability of all
-classes of immigrants in this country to the condition of affairs
-by which they find themselves surrounded, the fears of even a
-Chinese invasion appear groundless. Every day and year bring with
-them large accessions of energetic and healthy minds to the ranks
-of the native-born Americans&mdash;some the children of the sons of
-the soil; others, of adopted citizens; but all American in spirit
-and purpose, no matter what their parentage. Even this uniformity
-extends to their <i>physique</i>, and it has been remarked by
-visitors to our shores that the native-born boy or girl, however
-dissimilar the peculiar physical traits of their progenitors,
-presents strong points of resemblance in figure and face to each
-other. Something of this may be accounted for by food and
-climate, training and association, but much more by the fact of
-the admixture of races constantly going forward. The heavy
-features of the northern European are more or less elongated and
-brightened into thoughtful cheerfulness in his American child,
-while the angularity and pugnacity supposed to be characteristic
-of the Celtic countenance are reduced to finer lines of grace and
-repose in their cis-Atlantic descendants.
-</p>
-<p>
-Taking American character as it stood at the beginning of this
-century, we cannot deny our admiration of its essential features,
-though many of its details were susceptible of improvement. Our
-stateliness had a tendency to what is now generally called
-Puritanism, and our simplicity was apt to degenerate into
-parsimoniousness. Our ancestors wanted a little more breadth of
-view, a little leaven of the poetry of life to mix with its stern
-realities, and a great deal more love for innocent amusements,
-and taste for the fine arts, which make man feel more kindly to
-his fellow, and raise him so high above irrational animals.
-Immigration has done much for us in this way, and we have done
-something for ourselves. If we have extended to the strangers
-within our gates hospitality, protection, and the rewards of
-labor, they have paid us with the sculpture of Italy, the music
-of Germany, the melodies of Ireland, and the fashions of France.
-It has not only done this, but it has reproduced and naturalized
-the love for them, and made them "racy of the soil." But what is
-of more importance than all, it has efficiently helped the spread
-of true religious faith over this portion of the continent. True,
-there were Catholics and very good ones here, even in colonial
-times; but they were few in number, and so scattered over the
-country that they were in constant danger either of losing their
-faith for want of spiritual ministration or were powerless to
-assert their proper position before the opposing sects. We have
-now not only numbers, but the influence that flows from numbers,
-and generously and judiciously has our immigrant population used
-the power inherent in it. During the late civil strife which so
-afflicted our country, and endangered the Union, citizens by
-adoption vied with citizens by birth in defence of our
-institutions, and in their contributions to works of piety,
-charity, and education they have been so profuse that to others
-the results of their charities seem little short of miraculous.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_405">{405}</a></span>
-Even those who have come among us of a different creed, or no
-creed at all, have here a better opportunity of learning the
-truth than they have had in their own countries. Unfettered by
-statecraft or sectional laws, the Catholic priesthood have a
-field of labor in America such as the whole of Europe cannot
-present, and an audience composed of as many races as the sons of
-Adam represent. Realizing the great things done by our
-immigrants, and what may yet be expected from them, we hope to
-see their protection and welfare occupy a portion, at least, of
-the attention of our national and state authorities. But it is
-not enough that the law has so completely thrown its protecting
-shield over them. Individual charity can do much to supply the
-deficiencies which every general law presents. In the city of New
-York, especially, where a great deal has already been done by the
-commissioners to whose especial care the immigrants are entrusted
-by law, much remains still to be performed, in view of the
-hundreds of thousands of strangers who may annually be expected
-among us, for the next decade, at least.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-              <h2>Vigil.</h2>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-                   I.
-
-  Mournful night is dark around me,
-    Hushed the world's conflicting din;
-  All is still and all is tranquil&mdash;
-    But this restless heart within!
-
-
-                   II.
-
-    Wakeful still I press my pillow,
-      Watch the stars that float above,
-    Think of <i>One</i> for me who suffered;
-      Think, and weep for grief and love!
-
-                   III.
-
-  Flow, ye tears, though in your streaming
-    Oft yon stars of his grow dim!
-  Sweet the tender grief <i>he</i> wakens,
-    Blest the tears that flow for him!'
-
-                          Richard Storrs Willis.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_406">{406}</a></span>
-<br>
-          <h2>The Geography of Roses.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-Wherever man has found a dwelling-place, bounteous nature has
-conferred on him not only the necessaries of life, but a share
-also of its pleasures. From "sultry India to the pole," the
-useful and the beautiful are met with side by side. The bright
-poppy and the blue cornflower rise with the wheat-ear in the same
-broad field; the sweet-smelling amaryllis and the delicate iris
-unfold their variegated petals among the thick stalks of the
-African maize, while the marsh-rose and the water-lily float on
-the surface of the waters that inundate the rice-grounds of Egypt
-and India.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is evident that nature regards these fair blossoms as
-indispensable to man's happiness as those other more substantial
-gifts are to his comfort and existence; and so, with lavish hand,
-she scatters them on the mountain and in the valley, amidst
-plains of burning sand, or half-buried in snow and ice.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Floral apostles! that in dewy splendor
-      Weep without woe, and blush without a crime,
-   Oh! may I deeply learn, and ne'er surrender,
-                Your law sublime.
-
-  "Not useless are ye, flowers! though made for pleasure.
-      Blooming o'er field and wave, by day and night,
-    From every source your sanction bids me treasure
-                Harmless delight.
-
-  "Ephemeral sages! what instructors hoary
-      For such a world of thought could furnish scope?
-   Each fading calyx a <i>memento mori</i>,
-                Yet fount of hope."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The rose, fairest of the floral train, has been said by some
-botanists to take its birth in Asia. "The east, the cradle of the
-first man," writes a French author, "is also the native place of
-the rose; the flowery hillsides near the chain of the frowning
-Caucasus were the first spots on earth adorned with this charming
-shrub." We do not incline to this opinion, for the researches of
-science have proved that the lovely flower is found in every
-clime, from the arctic circle to the torrid zone, and that under
-every sun it seems to be endowed with some different grace. The
-same species is sometimes met with over a whole continent;
-another is unknown beyond the limits of a certain province; while
-another again never leaves the mountain or dale where it first
-shed its sweetness on the air. Thus Pollin's rose (<i>rosa
-Pollinaria</i>) is never found but at the foot of Monte Baldo in
-Italy, nor the Lyon rose (<i>rosa Lyonii</i>) out of the State of
-Tennessee; while the field-rose (<i>rosa arvensis</i>) trails its
-long branches and clusters of white flowers all over Europe, and
-the dog-rose (<i>rosa canina</i>) displays its pale pink petals
-and scarlet hips, not only throughout Europe, but also in
-northern Asia and a part of America.
-</p>
-<p>
-So numerous, indeed, are the varieties of this favorite of
-nature, that we will not attempt to describe all that are
-peculiar to each country; we will confine our attention to those
-only most remarkable for their beauty, and most easy of culture.
-</p>
-<p>
-First on the list of American roses, and far away among the
-eternal ice that covers the almost desert regions which lie
-between the seventieth and seventy-fifth degrees of north
-latitude, blooms <i>rosa blanda</i>, the charming
-<i>soft-colored</i> rose, which as soon as the sun has melted the
-snow in the valleys opens its large corolla, always solitary on
-its graceful stem, to the warm breathings from the south.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_407">{407}</a></span>
-We can picture to ourselves the delight of the stunted,
-amphibious Greenlander, when, the long months of the fierce
-winter past, he suddenly meets the expanding blossom. He smiles
-as he remembers how his young wife mourned last year over the
-death of the flowers, and he plucks the first rose of Greenland's
-short summer to carry back to her as a proof that she must ever
-hope and trust.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Why must the flowers die?
-         Prisoned they lie
-   In the cold tomb, heedless of tears and rain.
-         O doubting heart!
-      They only sleep below
-      The soft white ermine snow:
-      While winter winds shall blow,
-    To breathe and smile on you again!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-<i>Rosa blanda's</i> nearest neighbor is the pretty <i>rosa
-rap</i> of Hudson's Bay, whose slender, graceful branches are
-laden in the early summer with corymbs of pale pink double
-flowers. Nature herself has doubled <i>rosa rapa's</i> sweet
-corolla, as if she had foreseen that the wandering tribes of
-Esquimaux who inhabit those inclement shores would have too much
-to do in their never-ending struggle to pick up a precarious
-existence ever to busy themselves with the culture of the cold,
-unyielding soil.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Rosa blanda</i> and <i>rosa rapa</i> are still at home in
-Labrador and Newfoundland, but with them two remarkable
-varieties&mdash;the ash-leaved rose, (<i>rosa fraxinifolia</i>,) with
-small red heart-shaped petals, and the lustrous rose, (<i>rosa
-nitida</i>,) which shelters its brilliant red cup-like flower and
-fruit beneath the scraggy trees that grow sparsely along the
-coast. The lustrous rose is a great favorite with the young
-Esquimaux maidens, who dress their black hair with its shining
-cups, and wear bunches of it, "embowered in its own green
-leaves," in the bosom of their seal-skin robes.
-</p>
-<p>
-The United States possess a great number of different roses. At
-the foot of almost every rocky acclivity we meet the rose with
-diffuse branches, (<i>rosa diffusa</i>,) whose pink flowers,
-growing in couples on their stem, appear at the beginning of the
-summer. On the slopes of the Pennsylvanian hills blooms the
-small-flowered rose, (<i>rosa parviflora</i>,) an elegant little
-species bearing double flowers of the most delicate pink; it may
-fairly vie in beauty with all other American roses. In most of
-the Middle States, on the verge of the "mossy forests, by the
-bee-bird haunted," we find the straight-stemmed rose, (<i>rosa
-stricta</i>,) with light red petals, and the brier-leaved rose,
-(<i>rosa rubifolia</i>,) with small, pale red flowers, growing
-generally in clusters of three.
-</p>
-<p>
-The silken rose (<i>rosa setigera</i>) opens its great red
-petals, shaped like an inverted heart, beneath the "cloistered
-boughs" of South Carolina's woods, and in Georgia the magnificent
-smooth-leaved rose, (<i>rosa loevigata</i>,) known in its native
-wilds as the Cherokee rose, climbs to the very summit of the
-great forest trees, then swings itself off in festoons of large
-white flowers glancing like stars amidst their glossy, dark green
-leaves.
-</p>
-<p>
-When we leave the hills and woodlands, we find the marshes of the
-Carolinas gay with the <i>rosa evratina</i>, the <i>rosa
-Carolina</i>, and the <i>rosa lucida</i>, the resplendent rose,
-whose corymbs of brilliant red flowers overtop the reeds among
-which they love to blossom; while, nearer to the setting sun, we
-see the pink petals of Wood's rose (<i>rosa Woodsii</i>)
-reflected in the waters of the great Missouri.
-</p>
-<p>
-The last American rose we shall note in this slight sketch is the
-rose of Montezuma, (<i>rosa Montezumae</i>,) a solitary,
-sweet-scented, pale red flower with defenceless branches. It was
-discovered by Humboldt and Bonpland on the elevated peaks of the
-Cerro Ventoso, in Mexico, and is perhaps the very rose of which
-the unhappy Guatimozin thought when writhing on his bed of
-burning charcoal.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_408">{408}</a></span>
-<p>
-These are some of the species yet known to belong peculiarly to
-the western hemisphere; but it is highly probable that many
-others remain still to be discovered. When we remember the
-prodigality with which nature lavishes her gifts, we cannot
-believe that while France alone possesses twenty-four varieties
-of roses, all described by De Candolle in his <i>Flore
-Française</i>, the great American continent owns but fifteen.
-</p>
-<p>
-We will commence our European rose search in that most
-unpromising of all spots, Iceland; there, where volcanic fire and
-polar ice seem to dispute possession of the unhappy soil. So
-scarce is every kind of vegetation in this rude clime, that the
-miserable inhabitants are frequently compelled to feed their
-cows, sheep, and horses on dried fish. And yet even here, growing
-from the fissures of the barren rocks, a solitary cup-shaped rose
-opens its pale petals to the transient sunbeams of summer. This
-hardy little plant is, as its name, <i>rosa spinosissima</i>,
-indicates, covered all over with prickles. Its cream-colored
-flowers, numerous and solitary, are sometimes tinged with pink on
-the outside, and its fruit, at first red, becomes perfectly black
-when ripe.
-</p>
-<p>
-In Lapland, too, a country almost as disinherited by nature as
-Iceland, the pretty little May rose (<i>rosa maïalis</i>) expands
-its bright red corolla even before the tardy sun has melted away
-all the snow that has covered it during nine long months. A
-little later on, in the full blush of the short summer, "when the
-pine has a fringe of softer green," the Lapp maidens gather the
-blood-red flowers of the <i>rosa rubella</i> among the stunted
-trees whose parasitical mosses and lichens afford a scanty
-nourishment to the flocks of reindeer, sole riches of the land.
-</p>
-<p>
-The May rose is also found in Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and
-Russia, together with the cinnamon rose (<i>rosa cinnamomea</i>,)
-and several other species.
-</p>
-<p>
-England claims ten indigenous roses, many of them, however,
-exceedingly difficult to distinguish from each other. The most
-common is the dog-rose or Eglantine, found in every hedge and
-thicket, and very precious to rose-cultivators, its elegant,
-straight, vigorous stems being admirable for receiving grafts.
-The light pink corolla is slightly perfumed. In olden times the
-scarlet fruit was made into conserve, and highly esteemed in
-tarts, but it seems now to be abandoned to the birds. The <i>rosa
-arvensis</i>, a small shrub with long trailing branches and white
-flowers, and the burnet-leaved rose, which resembles the <i>rosa
-spinosissima</i> of Iceland, are also very frequently met. But
-the pride of the southern counties is the <i>rosa rubiginosa</i>,
-the true sweet-briar, with deep pink petals and leaves of the
-most delicious fragrance; a flower that seems to belong as
-peculiarly to the soft English spring as the primrose and violet,
-and like them to be emblematic of the English girl, delicate in
-her beauty, modest and retiring in her garb and manners, and
-diffusing around her an atmosphere of gentle sweetness. Such, at
-least, was the English girl five-and-twenty years ago; it is said
-that hoops and boots and croquet have produced strange changes.
-Alas! that simplicity and modesty and sweetness should ever go
-out of fashion.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_409">{409}</a></span>
-<p>
-In the Scotch fir-woods is found the rose with rolled petals,
-(<i>rosa involuta</i>.) The large flowers are red and white, and
-the remarkably sombre leaves when rubbed between the fingers give
-forth a strong smell of turpentine, an odor the plant has
-probably acquired from the resinous trees that shelter it. All
-the rugged mountains of Scotland possess their roses; the <i>rosa
-sabini</i>, with clustering flowers, and the villous or hairy
-rose, (<i>rosa villosa</i>,) with white or deep red, are the most
-worthy of notice.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is only in the environs of Belfast that we encounter the Irish
-rose, (<i>rosa hibernica</i>,) a species somewhat resembling both
-the <i>spinosissima</i> and the <i>canina</i>. The other roses of
-beautiful Ireland are identical with those of England.
-</p>
-<p>
-The fields and forests of France have been richly endowed with
-nature's favorite flower. Our now well-known friend <i>canina</i>
-flourishes there also in every hedge and by every wood-side,
-together with a pretty white rose, (<i>rosa alba</i>,) which has
-been very successfully cultivated in gardens. The smiling
-hill-sides around Dijon are gay with the lovely little crimson
-double flowers of the rose of Champagne, (<i>rosa
-parviflora;</i>) and, in the south, the yellow rose (<i>rosa
-eglantaria</i>) and its varieties surpass all others in the
-richness of their coloring; their petals sometimes gleaming with
-the brightest gold, sometimes deepening into a brilliant orange
-red, sometimes reproducing both hues in vivid flecks and streaks.
-The woods of Auvergne are bedecked with the small red solitary
-corollas of the cinnamon rose, (<i>rosa cinnamomea</i>,) so
-called from the color of its stalks; and in the department of the
-eastern Pyrenees the musk-rose blooms spontaneously in
-magnificent corymbs. This exquisitely scented species is also
-extensively cultivated for its aromatic essential oil; one of its
-kindred is the nutmeg rose, a pretty flower that smells of the
-spice.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Province rose, so often remarkable for its variegated petals
-of white, crimson, and pink, is a variety of the rose of France,
-(<i>rosa gallica</i>,) a species that has given horticulturists a
-great number of beautiful offshoots.
-</p>
-<p>
-Crossing the Pyrenean mountains, we again meet with the
-musk-rose, but this time in close companionship with the rose of
-Spain, (<i>rosa hispanica</i>,) whose bright red petals expand in
-the month of May.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the Balearic Islands the climbing branches of the evergreen
-rose (<i>rosa semper-virens</i>,) are seen constantly arrayed in
-lustrous green leaves mingled with innumerable white perfumed
-flowers. This beautiful rose is also found in other parts of the
-south of Europe, and in Barbary.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have already mentioned Polin's rose, a sweet Italian blossom
-which never strays from the foot of Monte Baldo, in the
-neighborhood of Verona. Its large crimson corollas open in
-handsome clusters.
-</p>
-<p>
-Sicily and Greece possess the gluey rose, (<i>rosa
-glutinosa,</i>) a small, red, solitary flower, with glandular,
-viscous leaflets.
-</p>
-<p>
-Germany is poorer in native roses than any other part of Europe;
-nevertheless nowhere do the blossoms of the field-rose display
-such beauty, unless, indeed, among the mountains of Switzerland.
-Nowhere else are they so large, so deeply tinted, and
-<i>double</i>. Germany also gives birth to the curious turbinated
-rose, (<i>rosa turbinata</i>,) whose double corolla rests on a
-top-shaped ovary.
-</p>
-<p>
-The whole chain of the Alps abounds with roses. The field-rose,
-and the ruby-red Alpine rose, (<i>rosa alpina</i>,) an elegant
-shrub which has contributed many esteemed varieties to our
-gardens, bloom in admirable luxuriance in every forest glade and
-mountain dingle; while the red-leaved rose, (<i>rosa
-rubrifolia</i>,) with red stalks and dark red petals, stands out
-in the summer landscape, a charming contrast to the green foliage
-of the surrounding trees.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_410">{410}</a></span>
-<p>
-The leaves of another species growing among the pines and firs of
-these elevated regions, the rose with prickly leaflets, (<i>rosa
-spinulifolia</i>,) emit when rubbed the same odor of turpentine
-that we have already noticed in the <i>rosa involuta</i>of
-Scotland. It is singular to observe that the only two roses we
-know with this smell are both natives of pine-covered mountains.
-</p>
-<p>
-The east has for ages been esteemed the home of flowers; almost
-as soon as we can lisp, we are taught that
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "In eastern lands they talk with flowers,
-     And they tell in a garland their loves and cares;
-   Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers
-     On its leaves a mystic language bears."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-And in joyous youth who has not dreamed of that "bower of roses
-by Bendemeer's stream," so sweetly sung by the Irish bard? The
-very name of India reminds one of Nourmahal and of that most
-enchanting of all feasts, "the feast of roses."
-</p>
-<p>
-It will then scarcely surprise any one to be told that Asia, the
-birthplace of the great human family, is also the birthplace of
-more varieties of roses than all the other parts of the world put
-together. Thirty-nine species have been discovered indigenous to
-this favored portion of the globe, fifteen of which belong to the
-Chinese empire.
-</p>
-<p>
-One of the prettiest of these fifteen is the Lawrence rose,
-(<i>rosa Lawrenceana</i>,) a fairy-like bush, six inches high,
-with flowers not much larger than a silver dime, blooming all the
-year round. By the side of this pigmy tree, which we must not
-forget to observe is remarkable for the symmetry of its
-proportions, is often found the many-flowered rose, (<i>rosa
-multiflora</i>,) whose flexible branches, rising sometimes to the
-height of sixteen feet, are covered in the early summer with
-magnificent clusters of pale pink double flowers.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among the many double Chinese roses, the small-leaved one
-(<i>rosa microphylla</i>) is highly prized and most assiduously
-cultivated in its native land. Its delicate foliage and pale pink
-very double flowers are well known also to the rose-fanciers of
-the United States. Another beautiful variety, the <i>rosa
-Banksiae</i>, climbs the rocky fells of China, hiding their
-rugged barrenness with a living curtain of verdure, enamelled
-with multitudes of little drooping flowers of a yellowish white,
-which exhale the sweet odor of violets.
-</p>
-<p>
-Cochin-China, with these same species, lays claim to two others
-that we must notice; the very thorny rose, (<i>rosa
-spinosissima</i>,) with scentless flesh-colored petals, and the
-white rose, (<i>rosa alba</i>,) which we also find indigenous in
-France, Lombardy, and other parts of Europe. Japan, besides the
-roses of China, possesses the <i>rosa rugosa</i>, the only one
-peculiar to the clime.
-</p>
-<p>
-Passing on to Hindostan, we may believe that the tiger which
-prowls along the burning shores of the Bay of Bengal ofttimes
-crouches under the boughs blooming with the lovely white corollas
-of the many-bracted rose (<i>rosa involucrata</i>) to make his
-deadly spring, and that the crocodiles of the Ganges find secure
-hiding-places to lie in wait for their prey, beneath the
-ever-succeeding red blossoms and never-fading luxuriant foliage
-of the <i>rosa semperflorens</i>. How often, all the world over,
-are sweetest things but lurking-places for pain and death!
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_411">{411}</a></span>
-<p>
-Among the hills of the peninsula we meet the large-leaved rose,
-(<i>rosa macrophylla</i>,) the tips of whose white petals are
-each stained with a small bright red spot; and on the margin of
-the sunny lakes of cool Cashmere, the milk-white flowers of
-Lyell's rose, (<i>rosa Lyellii</i>,) a beautiful species that has
-been successfully acclimatized in France.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the gardens of Kandahar, Samarcand, and Ispahan the rose
-<i>tree</i> (<i>rosa arborea</i>) is cultivated; a real tree,
-with wide-spreading branches, covered in the spring with snowy
-flowers of the richest perfume, making fragrant the surrounding
-hill and dales. In Persia we also find the barberry-leaved rose,
-(<i>rosa berberifolia</i>,) a singular variety which displays a
-star-like yellow corolla marked in the centre with a deep crimson
-stain. So unlike is this flower to all others of the family that
-one feels almost inclined to deny its claim to any relationship
-with the queen of flowers. Science, however, has decided that the
-<i>rosa berberifolia</i> is a true rose.
-</p>
-<p>
-Further on to the west, beneath "the sultry blue of Syria's
-heaven," we encounter the lovely corymbs of the damask rose,
-(<i>rosa damascena</i>,) with crimson velvet or variegated petals
-and gold-colored stamens. It is said that the valiant knights who
-accompanied the French king Saint Louis to the Crusades brought
-back with them to France this beautiful flower, an ever-living
-witness of their prowess in the Holy Land. It is as beloved by
-the honey-bees of Europe as its wilder sisters on the sweet banks
-of Jordan have ever been by the blossom-rifling rovers of
-Palestine.
-</p>
-<p>
-As the rose-seeker wanders forth from Syria toward the north he
-is arrested for a moment by the vivid yellow double flowers of
-the <i>rosa sulfurea</i>, but has scarcely time to admire them,
-graceful though they be, before he catches sight of the loveliest
-and most fragrant of all roses, the <i>rosa centifolia</i>, the
-hundred-leaved rose, the rose of the nightingale, the rose of the
-poet!
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-      "Rose! what dost thou here?
-         Bridal, royal rose!
-       How, 'midst grief and fear,
-         Canst thou thus disclose
-   That fervid hue of love which to thy heart-leaf glows?
-
-      "Smilest thou, gorgeous flower?
-         Oh! within the spells
-       Of thy beauty's power
-         Something dimly dwells
-   At variance with a world of sorrows and farewells.
-
-       "All the soul forth-flowing
-          In that rich perfume,
-        All the proud life glowing
-	  In that radiant bloom,
-   Have they no place but <i>here</i>, beneath th' o'ershadowing tomb?
-
-       "Crown'st thou but the daughters
-          Of our tearful race?
-        Heaven's own purest waters
-	  Well might wear the trace
-   Of thy consummate form, melting to softer grace.
-
-        "Will that clime enfold thee
-           With immortal air?
-	 Shall we not behold thee
-	   Bright and deathless there?
-   In spirit-lustre clothed, transcendently more fair!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The valleys of Circassia and Georgia are the birthplace of this
-most beautiful of flowers, of whose exquisite form, color, and
-perfume even Mrs. Hemans's rapturous verses can give no idea.
-</p>
-<p>
-The fierce rose (<i>rosa ferox</i>) is sometimes found mingling
-its great red flowers with those of <i>rosa centifolia</i>, and
-the pulverulent rose (<i>rosa pulverulenta</i>) dwells near them
-on the declivities of the Peak of Manzana.
-</p>
-<p>
-As we hasten on through the dreary steppes of Russian Asia, we
-meet the sad-looking yellowish rose, dismal in aspect as the land
-it lives in, and more remarkable for its great pulpy hip than for
-its flower. A little nearer to the north, the handsome,
-large-flowered rose (<i>rosa grandiflora</i>) expands its elegant
-corolla in the form of an antique vase, and on the plains lying
-at the foot of the Ural mountains the reddish rose, (<i>rosa
-rubella</i>,) with petals sometimes rich and deep in color, but
-more often faint and faded-looking, gladdens for a moment the
-heart-sore Polish exile as he wends his weary way to his living
-grave, faint and faded-looking as the flower that reminds him of
-his distant home.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_412">{412}</a></span>
-<p>
-Despite the cold breath of the frozen ocean, the acicular rose
-(<i>rosa acicularis</i>) lives and thrives on its shores, and
-regularly opens its pale-red solitary blossoms at the first call
-of the short-lived Siberian summer. The icy breezes of the frigid
-zone may have done much, however, toward developing the
-ill-natured tendency to long, needle-like thorns to which this
-rose owes its uncouth name.
-</p>
-<p>
-Omitting ten or twelve other varieties, we will conclude the list
-of the indigenous roses of Asia with the rose of Kamtschatka,
-(<i>rosa Kamtschatica</i>,) a beautiful solitary flower of a
-pinkish white color, and bearing some resemblance to the <i>rosa
-rugosa</i> of Japan.
-</p>
-<p>
-The roses of Africa are still to be discovered; its vast
-unexplored regions perhaps contain many as beautiful as those we
-possess, but at present we are only acquainted with four or five
-species, one of which, the dog-rose, so common all over Europe,
-is a native of Egypt. Among the mountains of Abyssinia blooms a
-pretty red variety with evergreen foliage, and on the borders of
-that "wild expanse of lifeless sand," the great Sahara in Egypt,
-and on the plains of Tunis and of Morocco, the corymbs of the
-white musk-rose (<i>rosa moschata</i>) perfume the ambient air.
-This charming flower is also indigenous to the Island of Madeira.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have thus taken a bird's-eye view of the rose's
-<i>habitat</i>, passing over much of interesting, much of curious
-that has been written about the favorite flower. We might go on
-and mention the singular and marvellous virtues attributed to it
-by the ancients; we might (were we learned) learnedly discourse
-on the Island of Rhodes, whose coins are found bearing the effigy
-of the rose; of the rose-noble, and the old English fashion of
-wearing a rose behind the ear; we might describe the gardens of
-Ghazipour and the whole process of extracting the delicious attar
-of roses; we might hint at the mysterious influence the scented
-blossom appears to exercise over some strangely organized
-individuals, who seem capable "of dying of a rose, in aromatic
-pain;" but we prefer to conclude here our sketch of the geography
-of roses.
-</p>
-<p>
-Unlearned and superficial as we well know it is, it may show some
-pleasant meanings to the young lover of flowers, and awaken his
-curiosity to examine for himself the floral treasures that bloom
-in every field, garden, and grove. Such a study will do more
-toward filling his heart with a spirit of love and peace, and
-elevating his mind above purely material cares, than any other
-pursuit; for
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Where does the Wisdom and the Power divine
-   In a more bright and sweet reflection shine?"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-"From nature up to nature's God" is the natural result of all
-scientific investigations which are carried on with a real
-capacity of observation and a sincere love of truth. Feeling and
-thought, purified and sanctified by constant intercourse with the
-high objects of life, with the enduring things of nature, fail
-not to recognize the "Wisdom and the Spirit of the universe" in
-his works.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-   "Were I, O God! in churchless lands remaining,
-      Far from all voice of teachers or divines,
-    My soul would find, in flowers of thy ordaining,
-      Priests, sermons, shrines!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_413">{413}</a></span>
-<br>
-     <h2>Spanish Life and Character.</h2>
-	 <p class="center_close">
-	 [Footnote 120]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-       [Footnote 120: <i>Impressions of Spain</i>. By Lady
-       Herbert. New York:  The Catholic Publication Society.
-       1869.
-<br><br>
-       <i>Letters from Spain</i>. By William Cullen Bryant. 12mo.
-       New York: D.  Appleton & Co.
-<br><br>
-       <i>Voyage en Espagne</i>. Par M. Eugène Poitou. 8vo, pp.
-       483. Tours: A. Mame et Fila. 1869.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Lady Herbert strikes the key-note of her narrative of Spanish
-travel about the middle of the book. "Catholicism in Spain," she
-remarks, "is not merely the religion of the people: <i>it is
-their life</i>." Precisely because she feels this life, and,
-despite her English common sense, sympathizes with the Spanish
-people in their strong religious sentiment, she describes them
-with a rare fidelity, and gives us, if not a highly colored, a
-very vivid picture. No traveller who is not a Catholic can paint
-Spain as she is. Mr. Bryant looked at the people with a kindly
-eye; but he did not understand them. From him, as well as from
-the common run of English and American tourists, we get mere
-surface sketches&mdash;pleasant enough to read, perhaps, but that is
-all. Protestant travellers see no more of the popular life and
-character than if they sailed over the country in a balloon. They
-find the diligences marvels of antiquated discomfort; the
-railways, miracles of unpunctuality and slowness; travel, a
-hardship which there is little attempt to alleviate. They find
-that in Spain no Spaniard is ever in a hurry, and no stranger is
-allowed to be so either. If they are kept shivering at a roadside
-station three or four hours in the midst of the night, waiting
-for some lumbering railway train, on a seatless, unsheltered
-platform, they get no commiseration from the surly officials but
-an exhortation to "paciencia." If government is bad and robbers
-are bold, the Spaniard goes on sipping his sugared water and
-repeats, "Paciencia, paciencia!" If the country is two or three
-generations behind the rest of Europe in all the appliances of
-material comfort, why, "<i>Paciencia, paciencia!</i>" That is the
-great panacea for all the ills of human life. These
-peculiarities, the wretchedness and extravagant charges of all
-the hotels, and the horrors of the Spanish <i>cuisine</i>, fill
-most of the travellers' journals. But Lady Herbert found a plenty
-of religious beauty underneath this dilapidated exterior. God and
-the church are so near to the people's hearts that the mixture of
-religion with the language and business of every day shocks a
-stranger at first as something irreverent. Pious traditions are
-familiar to every Spaniard from his cradle. They come up every
-hour of the day. They color every man's conversation, they
-affect, more or less intimately, everybody's conduct; nay, it is
-difficult sometimes to separate them from the Spaniard's faith,
-for he clings to a pious legend almost as stoutly as he holds to
-an article of the creed. The peasant woman plants rosemary in her
-garden, because there is a story that when our Lord was an infant
-the Blessed Virgin hung out his clothes upon a rosemary bush to
-dry. Red roses get their color from a drop of the Saviour's blood
-which fell on them from the cross. A swallow tried to pluck the
-thorns from the head of the crucified Christ, and therefore no
-Spaniard will shoot a swallow.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_414">{414}</a></span>
-The owl was present when our Lord expired, and since then has
-ceased to sing, his only cry being "<i>Crux, crux!</i>" Half the
-dogs in Spain are called Melampo, because that was the name of
-the dog of the shepherds who came to Bethlehem. Protestants may
-laugh at the credulity which listens to such legends, but to our
-minds there is the simplicity of real piety in the national
-belief, and we cannot think that God will be angry with the
-people if they believe a little too much in his honor.
-Protestants may sneer at the public reverence which is paid to
-sacred things, and call it a gross mark of superstition to show
-as much respect to the Blessed Sacrament as to a governor or a
-general in the army; but we confess our sympathies are with Lady
-Herbert when she describes the sentinels at San Sebastian
-presenting arms as he passes before the chapel door, or the
-shopkeeper who interrupts a bargain to rush out into the street
-and kneel down before the Viatacum, exclaiming "<i>Sua maesta
-viene!</i>" What a sweet flavor of real piety there is in the
-popular term for alms, "<i>la bolsa de Dios</i>," "God's
-purse!"&mdash;a purse, by the way, which is never empty. Beggars are
-treated with a tenderness that is felt for them nowhere else but
-in Ireland. The poor peasant may have little or nothing to give;
-but if he refuses, he begs pardon for doing so. There is no city
-without its charity hospitals, marvels of cleanliness, comfort,
-and order. There is hardly a town without its asylum, where
-religious mea or women tend the unfortunate, shelter the
-destitute, feed the hungry, and rear the orphan and the
-foundling. Convents have been depopulated and monastic orders
-banished throughout the kingdom, but the more active brotherhoods
-and sisterhoods are spared, and are doing magnificent work. The
-deserted convents, magnificent in their decay, speak eloquently
-of the zeal and piety of the people, whose greatest fault it is
-as a nation that they have trusted too much to weak and unworthy
-rulers. Every one of these religious monuments is the scene of
-some holy legend, and most of them are hallowed by incidents in
-the lives of saints, of whom Spain has been the birthplace and
-home of so many hundreds. Lady Herbert tells a significant story
-which shows how closely religion is bound up with the thoughts of
-the people. She was visiting the ancient palace of Toledo, when a
-peasant woman, sitting by the gate, asked the guide if the
-strange lady was an Englishwoman, "because she walked so fast."
-On being answered in the affirmative, she exclaimed, "Oh! what a
-pity. I liked her face, and yet she is an infidel!" The guide
-pointed to a little crucifix which hung from a rosary at Lady
-Herbert's side, whereat the peasant sprang from her seat and
-kissed both the cross and the visitor.
-</p>
-<p>
-Spanish courtesy even has a religious flavor. Ask a Spaniard to
-point out the road, and nothing will do but he must go with you
-on your way, and pray God's blessing on your head when he leaves
-you. No matter how poor he may be, you must not offer money for
-such services; he will be either grieved or indignant, at what
-seems to him an insult. There is piety also in the Spanish
-reverence for age. If an old man passes the peasant's door at
-meal-time, he is offered a place at the table, and begged to ask
-a blessing on the repast.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is, in fine, a lovable and engaging side to Spanish
-character from which we cannot but expect a great and beneficial
-influence upon the national destinies. Faith has its rewards even
-in this life, and we cannot believe that a nation which adhered
-so firmly to religion will be overthrown without some very grave
-offence of its own.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_415">{415}</a></span>
-The reverential tendency of Spanish character has no doubt
-overpassed, in political affairs, its legitimate barriers, and
-loyalty has done some mischief as well as good. Respect for
-legitimate authority has not always been distinguished from a
-fanatical devotion to the persons of bad or incompetent rulers.
-There is a great deal of truth, albeit much falsehood likewise,
-in Mr. Buckle's explanation of the causes of Spanish greatness
-and Spanish decay. Give the kingdom a great sovereign, like
-Charles V., and with an obedient and devoted people the nation
-may be raised to the pinnacle of greatness and prosperity. But no
-people which has not been taught to depend upon itself can long
-keep in the van. Greatness is not inherited with titles and
-possessions; weak rulers are sure to come sooner or later, and
-then the country finds that it leans upon a broken reed. Spain
-discovers now that she has suffered her kings to monopolize the
-responsibilities which ought to have been divided among the whole
-people, and their duties have not been fulfilled. The nation has
-slept a sleep of centuries in the comfortable confidence that
-government would take care of everything, do all the thinking,
-make all the needed improvements, and educate the country as a
-father educates his children. It seems to have been forgotten
-that this was a task which only those mighty geniuses who appear
-once in a century are strong enough to perform. An indolent,
-weak, and careless ruler under the Spanish system allows his
-people to lag behind in the struggle for national preëminence; a
-bad ruler plunges them into misery and disgrace. Spain has
-suffered terribly from both these afflictions; we do not believe,
-however, that her case is desperate. While there is much in the
-present condition of the kingdom to fill all thoughtful men with
-alarm, there is promise in the awakened activity of national
-life, and in the very spirit of revolution which is driving the
-liberal party into such lamentable excesses. It is dirty work to
-clean up the dust of three or four centuries. Great political
-changes are almost always accompanied by disorder; but when the
-uproar subsides, and new parties crystallize out of the fragments
-of the present tumult, when the people feel that to be great and
-prosperous they must use their own power, and cease to be fed
-with a spoon, we believe that there is so much faith and piety at
-the bottom of the Spanish heart, and so much real nobleness in
-the national character, that a brighter destiny will be within
-their reach than has beamed upon them since the days of Charles
-and Philip.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-We have wandered far away from the volume with which we began our
-remarks, and left ourselves little room to praise Lady Herbert's
-narrative as it deserves to be praised. We shall content
-ourselves here with citing a description of a man who has
-occupied a prominent place in the recent history of Spain. We
-mean Father Claret, the queen's confessor:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "One only visit was paid, which will ever remain in the memory
-  of the lady who had the privilege. It was to Monsignor Claret,
-  the confessor of the queen and Archbishop of Cuba, a man as
-  remarkable for his great personal holiness and ascetic life as
-  for the unjust accusations of which he is continually the
-  object. On one occasion, these unfavorable reports having
-  reached his ears, and being only anxious to retire into the
-  obscurity which his humility makes him love so well, he went to
-  Rome to implore for a release from his present post; but it was
-  refused him.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_416">{416}</a></span>
-  Returning through France, he happened to travel with certain
-  gentlemen, residents in Madrid, but unknown to him, as he was
-  to them, who began to speak of all the evils, real or
-  imaginary, which reigned in the Spanish court, the whole of
-  which they unhesitatingly attributed to Monsignor Claret, very
-  much in the spirit of the old ballad against Sir Robert Peel:
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-    'Who filled the butchers' shops with big blue flies?'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  He listened without a word, never attempting either excuse or
-  justification, or betraying his identity. Struck with his
-  saint-like manner and appearance, and likewise very much
-  charmed with his conversation during the couple of days'
-  journey together, the strangers begged at parting to know his
-  name, expressing an earnest hope of an increased acquaintance
-  at Madrid. He gave them his card with a smile! Let us hope they
-  will be less hasty and more charitable in their judgments, for
-  the future. Monsignor Claret's room in Madrid is a fair type of
-  himself. Simple even to severity in its fittings, with no
-  furniture but his books, and some photographs of the queen and
-  her children, it contains one only priceless object, and that
-  is a wooden crucifix, of the very finest Spanish workmanship,
-  which attracted at once the attention of his visitor. 'Yes, it
-  is very beautiful,' he replied in answer to her words of
-  admiration; 'and I like it because it expresses so wonderfully
-  <i>victory over suffering</i>. Crucifixes generally represent
-  only the painful and human, not the triumphant and divine view
-  of the redemption. Here, he is truly victor over death and
-  hell.'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Contrary to the generally received idea, he never meddles in
-  politics, and occupies himself entirely in devotional and
-  literary works. One of his books, <i>Camino recto y seguro para
-  llegar al Cielo</i>, would rank with Thomas a Kempis's
-  <i>Imitation</i> in suggestive and practical devotion. He keeps
-  a perpetual fast; and, when compelled by his position to dine
-  at the palace, still keeps to his meagre fare of 'garbanzos,'
-  or the like. He has a great gift of preaching; and when he
-  accompanies the queen in any of her royal progresses, is
-  generally met at each town when they arrive by earnest
-  petitions to preach, which he does instantly, without rest or
-  apparent preparation, sometimes delivering four or five sermons
-  in one day. In truth, he is always 'prepared,' by a hidden life
-  of perpetual prayer and realization of the unseen."
-</p>
-<p>
-For the rest, it is only necessary to add a word upon the
-admirable manner in which the American publishers have presented
-Lady Herbert's book to their patrons. It is beautifully printed
-upon thick, rich paper, and illustrated with excellent wood-cuts,
-and will easily bear comparison with the choice productions of
-the secular press, as a book for the parlor table and for holiday
-presents as well as for the library.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-          <h3>From The German Of Baron Stolberg.</h3>
-
-  <h2>Filial Affection As Taught And Practised By The Chinese.</h2>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Honor thy father and thy mother,
-  that thou mayest be long-lived in the land
-  which the Lord thy God will give thee."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-In a remarkable work, entitled <i>Mémoires concernant l'histoire,
-les sciences, les arts, les moeurs, les usages, etc., etc., des
-Chinois</i>, written by two natives of China who had spent their
-early years in Europe, and had there added the sciences of the
-west to the learning of the east, and hallowed their knowledge
-with "the love of Christ which surpasseth all knowledge," the
-greater part of a quarto volume is devoted to the "Teachings of
-the Chinese concerning filial affection."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_417">{417}</a></span>
-<p>
-What follows is taken from <i>Li-ki</i>, a very ancient Chinese
-work, written long before the time of the great Confucius.
-Confucius was born in the year of the world 3452, before Christ
-551, in the twenty-eighth year of the lifetime of Cyrus.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Be ever penetrated by religion and your exterior will bespeak
-  a man whose regard is directed inward upon his soul; and your
-  words will be the language of one who controls his passions."
-  &hellip;
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Religion alone can render indissoluble the ties that attach
-  the subject to his prince, the inferior to the superior, the
-  son to the father, the younger brother to the elder."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "A son filled with filial affection hears the voice of his
-  father and mother, even when they are not speaking with him,
-  and he sees them even when he is not in their presence."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "At the first call of a father, all should be forsaken in order
-  to go to him."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Mourning for parents should continue three years."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "A son had murdered his father in the kingdom of Tochu. The
-  authorities reported the crime to King Ting-kong. He rose from
-  his mat; sighed, Alas! the fault is mine! I know not how to
-  govern! He issued an edict for the future. Such a murderer must
-  be instantly put to death; the house must be razed, and the
-  governor must abstain from wine during a month."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The peace of the realm depends on the filial affection
-  entertained for parents and the respect shown to elder
-  brothers."
-</p>
-<p>
-The following are extracts from a canonical book of the Chinese
-entitled <i>Hiao-king</i>, the last work of Confucius, written
-480 years before the birth of Christ, during the time of Xerxes.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Filial affection is the root of all virtues, and the fountain
-  head of all teaching."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whosoever loves his parents can hate nobody; whosoever honors
-  them can despise nobody. If a ruler evinces unlimited respect
-  and affection to his parents, the virtue and wisdom of his
-  people will be increased twofold. Even barbarians will submit
-  to his decrees."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "If thou entertainest toward thy father the love thou hast for
-  thy mother, and the respect thou hast for thy ruler, thou wilt
-  serve thy ruler with filial affection."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "O immensity of filial affection! how wonderful thou art! What
-  the revolutions of the planets are for the citadel of heaven,
-  what fertility is for the fields of the earth, that, filial
-  affection is for nations. Heaven and earth never deceive. Let
-  nations follow their example, and the harmony of the world will
-  be as indefectible as the light of heaven, and as the
-  productions of the earth!"
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "A prince who causes himself to be loved, and who improves the
-  morals of men, is the father and mother of nations! How perfect
-  must be the virtue which guides nations to that which is
-  greatest of all, whilst they are following the inclinations of
-  their hearts!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The emperors of China have been giving examples of filial
-affection from time immemorial. It is an ordinance of the
-ancients that the new sovereign shall, during the first three
-years, make no changes in the administration of his father. The
-emperors of China, the mightiest potentates of the earth, show
-the most profound reverence to their mothers before the eyes of
-the whole people.
-</p>
-<p>
-The great Emperor Kang-hi published, in 1689 of our chronology, a
-large work, in one hundred volumes, on filial affection. In the
-preface, written by himself, he says, amongst other things:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "In order to show how the filial affection of an emperor should
-  be constituted, it is here shown to what tenderness for his
-  people, interest in the public good, solicitude for health,
-  contentment, and the happiness of his parents bind him.
-  Everything in life is filial affection, for everything refers
-  to respect and love."
-</p>
-<p>
-What a beauty and depth of meaning in these words!
-</p>
-<p>
-Together with filial affection this comprises the corresponding
-love of parents for their children, and the reciprocal duties of
-both. From these are also deduced the reciprocal obligations of
-rulers and subjects.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_418">{418}</a></span>
-<p>
-All is ultimately referred to God.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Who is to be feared, who is to be served,
-  and who is to be regarded as the Father
-  and the Mother of all men."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-China is the only empire in which public censors of the acts of
-the emperor are appointed. Their number, which originally was
-seven, has been increased to forty. Their office is to warn the
-emperor when he has transgressed or neglected his duty, and to
-admonish him. In a work composed by the Emperor Kang-hi, and
-published in 1733, several instances of these admonitions and
-remonstrances are mentioned:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "It is the cry of all ages, O Sovereign!
-  that it is the most imperative duty
-  of the son to revere his parents!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-After explaining how one must prove himself concerning the
-fulfilment of this duty, and describing various evidences by
-which to judge, the sage continues:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Such, O Sovereign! is the nature of genuine filial affection,
-  of the filial affection of great souls, of the kind of filial
-  affection that makes the world pleasant, gains all hearts, and
-  secures the favor of heaven. &hellip; Thy subject, O Sovereign! has
-  heard that a good ruler attributes to himself whatever disturbs
-  good order in the realm; that he is made sad by the smallest
-  misdemeanors of his subjects, and that he devotes the best days
-  of his life to the sole object of obviating whatever might
-  interfere with the public weal."
-</p>
-<p>
-This remonstrance was presented in the year 1064, of our
-chronology, to the Emperor Ing-tsong by the Censor See-ma-kuang,
-one of the greatest statesmen China has ever had, who was at the
-same time a historian, a philosopher, and a poet. The people
-loved him so that after his death the entire realm was disposed
-to go in mourning. Another censor very boldly reprimanded the
-Emperor Kuang-tsong, because in a journey to his country chateau
-he had passed by the villa of his mother without calling to see
-her.
-</p>
-<p>
-At a later period this censor upbraided the same emperor in terms
-of the deepest sorrow for not accompanying his mother's funeral
-and wearing mourning in her memory, notwithstanding that all the
-magnates of the empire had been plunged into the most profound
-grief by the death of that excellent woman. The censor accused
-him of having feigned indisposition on that occasion, whilst it
-was generally known that he was engaged in his customary
-pastimes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Another emperor was reproached with a noble intrepidity, for
-having weakly permitted a favorite daughter to squander a part of
-the revenues of the state in embellishing her country residence
-and gardens.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Emperor Kang-hi, one of the wisest and greatest rulers the
-world has ever seen, practised filial piety in a most perfect
-manner toward his grandmother and mother during their lifetime
-and after their death. When appointing one of his sons heir to
-the throne&mdash;a right accorded him by the constitution&mdash;he declared
-that he was guided in his choice by the wisdom of the two
-empresses, his mother and his grandmother.
-</p>
-<p>
-When his grandmother was sick, this emperor wrote to one of the
-grandees of the realm, Hing-pu, who was probably minister of
-justice:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "My cares do not quit me, whether by day or by night. I have no
-  relish for food or sleep; my only consolation lies in raising
-  my thoughts to Tien, (Heaven, or the God of Heaven.) With
-  tearful eyes I have prostrated myself on the ground, and buried
-  myself in meditation on the manner of most surely obtaining his
-  holy assistance; and it appeared to me that the preservation of
-  men, the objects of his love, would be the surest means of
-  obtaining, from his infinite goodness and mercy, the
-  prolongation of a life that we would all be willing to purchase
-  with our own."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_419">{419}</a></span>
-<p>
-Hereupon he reprieved all criminals not excluded from the favor
-by the laws of the state. He concluded with these words:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "I pray Tien that
-  he may be pleased to bless my wish."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-He walked in solemn procession, accompanied by the nobles, and
-offered sacrifices for the empress. As her condition grew more
-alarming, he spent day and night at her bedside, where he slept
-upon a mat, in order to be always near to attend to her wants. To
-the remonstrances of his court and the requests of the invalid
-herself, he replied by answering them that he could not control
-his grief, and could find consolation only in nursing his beloved
-grandmother, who had nursed him in youth with so much wisdom and
-tenderness.
-</p>
-<p>
-Many a reader may consider this intense and openly acknowledged
-sentiment of filial devotion as exaggerated; in China, men
-thought differently. And the man of whom it is related was one of
-the greatest princes that ever lived, a great <i>savant</i>, a
-philosopher upon a throne, an undaunted hero, and during the
-whole of his long reign the father of his country, the admiration
-and joy of his numerous people. When he was besought by the
-princes of the royal house and by the nobles of the realm to
-permit the sixtieth anniversary of his birthday to be solemnly
-commemorated, he replied:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I have never had any taste for and have never found any
-  pleasure in grand festivities and entertainments. Yet I feel
-  reluctant to refuse what the love of the princes and nobles
-  requests from me. But as these festivities would fall upon the
-  days whereon my much revered father and mother died, their
-  memory is too vividly present in my heart to suffer me to allow
-  them to be converted into days of rejoicing."
-</p>
-<p>
-At the Chinese court it is customary for the emperor, on New
-Year's day, to go in company with the princes and nobles to the
-palace of his mother. A master of ceremonies called a mandarin of
-Lizu, walks in front and reverently prays that it may be her
-serene pleasure to ascend her throne, in order that the emperor
-may throw himself at her feet. She then takes her place upon the
-throne. The emperor enters the hall and remains standing with his
-arms hanging down and his sleeves pulled over his hands&mdash;a mark
-of reverence amongst this people. The imperial retinue remain
-below in the ante-chamber. The musicians sound some thrilling
-notes, whereupon the mandarin cries in a loud voice, "Upon your
-knees!" The emperor and retinue fall upon their knees. "To the
-floor!" The emperor bows his head to the floor, as also the
-entire court. "Arise!" And all rise up together. After performing
-three prostrations in this manner, the mandarin again approaches
-the throne of the empress and reaches her a written request from
-the emperor to be pleased to return to her apartment.
-</p>
-<p>
-During the ceremony the sound of the bell from the great tower
-announces to all the inhabitants of Pekin that the emperor of
-China, "the ruler of the thousand kingdoms," as they style him,
-is paying homage to humanity.
-</p>
-<p>
-When the empress has returned to her apartment, the ringing of
-the bell ceases, and then the emperor receives the felicitations
-of the court in his own palace.
-</p>
-<p>
-The idea of the relation between parents and children is, in
-fact, the soul of the constitution of China, a constitution that
-has continued unchanged for more than three thousand years.
-Through this idea the chains of despotism, so galling in other
-countries of the east, are rendered tolerable; by it a powerful
-influence is exercised over the rulers of the mightiest empire of
-the earth, so that most of them, even in modern times, devote
-themselves to their exalted duties with the greatest care, and
-look upon the empire not as their own possession, but as a trust
-committed to them as vicegerents of heaven.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_420">{420}</a></span>
-This idea is so deeply rooted that even the victorious Tartars
-were forced to respect it and adopt it as their principle of
-government, as we are shown by the example mentioned of the great
-Kang-hi.
-</p>
-<p>
-We subjoin some selections from a number of Chinese moral
-proverbs relating to this subject,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Filial affection produces the same sentiment, the same
-  solicitude, under every clime. The barbarian, compelled by want
-  to wander through wildernesses, learns more easily from his own
-  heart what a son owes to his father and mother than sages learn
-  it from their books."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The most invincible army is that in which fathers are most
-  mindful of their children, sons of their parents, brothers of
-  their brothers."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The filial piety of the ruler is the inheritance of the aged,
-  of widows, and of orphans."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whosoever raises the staff of his father with reverence, does
-  not strike the father's hand. Whosoever yawns at the old man's
-  oft-repeated tales, will hardly weep at his death."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "All virtues are threatened when filial affection is sinned
-  against."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "A good son never looks upon an enterprise as successful until
-  it has received the approbation of his father."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Rocks are converted into diamonds where father and son have
-  but one heart; harmony between the elder and younger brothers
-  changes the earth into gold."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Subjects revere their parents in the person of the emperor;
-  the emperor must revere his parents in the person of those of
-  his subjects. The love of princes for their parents guarantees
-  to them the love of their subjects."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The Emperor Gin-tsong was counselled by his minister to
-  declare war. What, replied the emperor, am I to answer fathers
-  and mothers when they ask their sons of me? and to the widow
-  who mourns her husband? and to fatherless orphans? and to so
-  many disconsolate families? I would willingly sacrifice a
-  province to save the life of one of my own children; all my
-  subjects are my children."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whosoever cuts down the trees planted by his father, will sell
-  the house that was built by him."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It is not the threats, nor the reproaches, nor the violence of
-  a father that are dreaded by a dutiful son. He fears his
-  silence. A father is silent either because he has ceased to
-  love or because he believes that he is no longer loved."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The one who first shed tears was an unhappy father."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Much to be pitied is the son who is displeasing to his
-  parents; but the unhappiest of all is he who does not love
-  them."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "A good son is a good brother, a good husband, a good father, a
-  good cousin, a good friend, a good neighbor, a good citizen. A
-  wicked son is simply&mdash;a wicked son."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Reverence and tenderness are the wings of filial affection."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "When brothers will not come to an agreement before the
-  sentence of the judge, public morals have already deteriorated.
-  If father and son go before the mandarin that he may decide
-  between them, the state is in danger. If children plot against
-  the life of their parents, and brothers against that of each
-  other, all is lost."
-</p>
-<p>
-This tender reverence for parents instils into the Chinese a
-similar regard for aged persons, for authorities, and for
-national customs. Their empire has been in existence for almost
-four thousand years!
-</p>
-<p>
-The contrary disposition, which denies to old age its becoming
-deference, which impels youth to contemn the experience of the
-past, and to wish, in its immaturity of judgment, to pass
-sentence upon all subjects, destroys social relations and
-undermines and ultimately ruins empires. It robs youth of its
-true grace; destroys the modesty and thirst for knowledge of the
-young man as well as the blushing diffidence of the maiden;
-defrauds age of its dignity; renders customs and laws altogether
-powerless.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_421">{421}</a></span>
-<br>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  <i>Quid leges, sine moribus
-    Vanae, proficiunt.</i>
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-said Horace.
-</p>
-<p>
-The young man trifles with the gaudy display of ever-changing
-fashion, a pest of our country from which the more serious east
-never languished. His philosophy is of the fashion as well as his
-clothes; and though, at present, he considers them as the very
-best, he is nevertheless ready to change them both and decry them
-as unsuitable, reserving the liberty, however, of resuming them
-as soon as the wand of the enchantress Fashion will have given
-the sign.
-</p>
-<p>
-The religion of Jesus Christ confers a pure dignity upon the
-worthiest and most tender relations of nature. It teaches us to
-revere a father in the Being of all beings, to love him tenderly
-whose eternal Son did not disdain to become our brother, to
-become the Spouse of his church. It sanctifies every relation of
-nature, every relation of society. But in attempting to picture
-to ourselves a state of the world in which the great majority
-would be doing homage to the religion of Jesus Christ, not merely
-in words, but in spirit and in deed, a feeling of sadness takes
-possession of the soul like to that which might come upon a
-prisoner, highly gifted with musical genius, while reading with
-the eye the harmonies of Handel and Gluck, when his ear was
-denied the rapture of hearing their enchanting melodies.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-           <h2>New Publications.</h2>
-
-<p class="cite">
-  Daily Meditations, by his Eminence, the late Cardinal Wiseman.<br>
-  Vol. I.<br>
-  Dublin, James Duffy, 1869.<br>
-  For sale at the Catholic Publication House,<br>
-  126 Nassau Street.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is a peculiar charm about all the writings of Cardinal
-Wiseman. It is the touch of genius, and of a great genius, whose
-loss the world mourns. The present volume, now published for the
-first time, comprises a series of meditations useful for all
-classes of devout persons, but more especially designed for the
-clergy and students in our ecclesiastical seminaries. They were
-written, as the Most Rev. Archbishop of Westminster informs us in
-a short preface, when the cardinal entered upon his first
-responsible office as rector of the English college in Rome. The
-subjects for the first six months of the year are taken from and
-arranged under a certain number of heads, generally repeated each
-week. These are,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The End of Man,"<br>
-  "Last Things,"<br>
-  "Mystery of our Saviour's Life,"<br>
-  "Personal Duties,"<br>
-  "The Passion,"<br>
-  "Sin."<br>
-  "Means of Sanctification,"<br>
-  "Self-Examination,"<br>
-  "The Decalogue,"<br>
-  "The Blessed Eucharist,"<br>
-  "The Blessed Virgin."<br>
-</p>
-<p>
-Each meditation consists of two or three reflections, and closes
-with an affective prayer. "Preparations" are given, after the
-method of St. Ignatius, before the meditations upon the mysteries
-of our Lord's life. As a book of meditations, or for spiritual
-reading, we could earnestly commend it to the laity, who will
-find the greater part of it eminently suitable for these
-purposes, while to the clergy it will be especially acceptable,
-furnishing, as it does, subjects sufficiently amplified to aid
-them in the ready preparation of a sermon or pious conference. We
-have few works in good English of this kind, and the reading of
-authors whose style is remarkable for purity and vigor cannot
-fail of improving the style of a speaker. The works of the great
-cardinal need no praise from us on these points, and we are sure
-that it is only necessary to call attention to a new work from
-his master hand to ensure its rapid sale.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_422">{422}</a></span>
-<p>
-We cannot refrain from transcribing one of the many beautiful
-affective prayers. The meditation is on the crowning with thorns.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Jesus, King and Lord of my heart and soul, what crown shall I
-  give thee to acknowledge thee as such? Alas! gold and silver in
-  my poverty I have none: my gold hath been long since turned
-  into dross, and my silver been alloyed. I have no roses like
-  thy martyrs, who returned thee blood for blood; nor lilies,
-  like thy virgins, who loved thee with an unsullied heart. My
-  soul is barren, my heart is unfruitful, and I have placed thee
-  to reign, as the Jewish kings of old, over a heap of ruins.
-  Long since despoiled and ravaged by the enemy, every flower
-  hath been ploughed up, and every green plant burned with fire,
-  and thorns alone and brambles spring up there. Of these, then,
-  alone can I make thee a crown, my dear and sovereign Jesus.
-  Wilt thou accept it? I will pluck up my unruly affections, that
-  they may no more have roots, and, weaving them together into a
-  wreath, will lay them as a sacrifice at thy feet. I will gather
-  the thorns of sincere repentance which there each day arise and
-  prick my heart with a sharp but wholesome smart, and with these
-  will I make a crown for thy head, if thou wilt vouchsafe to
-  wear it. Or, rather, thou shalt take it from my hand, only to
-  place it with thine around my heart, that it may daily and
-  hourly be pricked with compunction. And may the thorns of thy
-  crown be to my soul so many goads of love, to hasten it forward
-  in its career toward thee."
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-   False Definitions Of Faith,<br>
-   And The True Definition.<br>
-   By Rev. L. W. Bacon.<br>
-   Reprinted from the <i>New Englander</i> for April, 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Bacon defines faith to be trusting one's self for salvation
-to Jesus Christ. "The act of faith&mdash;of intrusting one's self for
-salvation to the Lord Jesus Christ&mdash;includes, not as a remote
-consequence, but in itself, repentance, obedience, holiness, and
-<i>whatever things beside</i> are demanded in the Scriptures as
-conditions of salvation." Dropping all dispute about terminology,
-we will take faith as defined by Mr. Bacon, and prove that it is
-inconceivable with out the act of intellectual assent to divine
-revelation, which the church requires. Jesus Christ must be
-accredited as the Messiah by God the Father in such a way as to
-give rational, credible evidence to the intellect, before a man
-can reasonably or conscientiously trust himself to him for
-salvation. When he is convinced that Christ is the Saviour, and
-trusts himself to him, he must receive from him certain and
-infallible instruction as to the method of repenting and
-obtaining pardon, as to the nature and extent of the obedience
-and holiness required, and as to <i>whatever things beside</i>
-are demanded as conditions of salvation. If his Master teaches
-him certain doctrines, and requires his assent, he must give it
-as a part of his obedience. If he prescribes sacraments and
-communion with one certain visible church as a condition of
-salvation, he must obey. The question with Mr. Bacon is,
-therefore, not respecting the indispensable obligation of
-believing what God has revealed respecting the way of salvation,
-but respecting the medium through which that revelation is
-communicated, and the actual subject-matter of its contents. Mr.
-Bacon very reasonably revolts at the tyranny of imposing mere
-human and probable opinions derived from private judgment on the
-Scriptures as necessary to be believed for salvation. He has an
-independent spirit and an active mind which will not suffer him
-to acquiesce tamely in the dominion which certain great names and
-traditional formulas have hitherto held among the orthodox
-Protestants. He thinks for himself and expresses his thoughts in
-a bold and manly way. In the <i>brochure</i> which he has
-reprinted from the <i>New Englander</i>, the defects of the
-old-fashioned Puritan theology respecting justification are
-pointed out with distinctness, and a far better and more
-reasonable view presented, which includes the moral element in
-the disposition of the soul for receiving grace, thus rejecting
-the most fundamental and destructive of all the errors of Luther.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_423">{423}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Relations And Reciprocal Obligations Between The Medical
-  Profession And The Educated And Cultivated Classes.<br>
-  An Oration delivered before the Alumni Association of the
-  Medical Department of the University of the City of New York,<br>
-  Feb. 23d, 1869.<br>
-  By Henry S. Hewit, M.D.<br>
-  Published by order of the Association.
-</p>
-<p>
-This pamphlet contains a great deal of matter within a very short
-compass. It shows the relation of medicine to philosophy and
-intellectual culture, refutes the wretched materialism by which
-the profession has been too much infected, castigates with
-merciless severity that charlatanism by which some ignorant
-pretenders practise on the credulity of the public, and that
-criminal malpractice by which others more skilful, but equally
-without conscience, prostitute their science to complicity with
-licentiousness and child-murder. A higher standard of education
-in medical science, a more liberal preparatory culture, and a
-distinction in medical degrees are advocated. These are matters
-of the deepest moment to society, in which Catholics have
-especial reasons to be interested. The physician is next to the
-priest, and, in his sphere, very like the priest in the
-responsibilities of his office, his power of doing good or evil,
-and in the necessity of resorting to him under which all men are
-placed in those dangerous and painful crises of life where he
-alone can give effectual help. According to Catholic theology, no
-one can pretend to practise medicine or surgery, without grievous
-sin, who has not received a competent education, and who does not
-follow what, according to the judgment of learned and skilful
-men, are truly scientific methods. Ignorance, carelessness, rash
-empiricism, or violation of the laws of morality as laid down by
-the church, are all grievous sins. They are followed by the most
-fatal consequences to those who become their victims, causing
-even the loss of life and the privation of baptism, which
-involves the loss of eternal life, on a vast scale. It is of the
-utmost consequence that we should have a body of Catholic
-physicians whose scientific culture is the highest possible, and
-whose professional code of morals is strictly in conformity with
-the moral theology of the church. If we are ever so happy as to
-possess a a Catholic university, it is to be hoped that Dr.
-Hewit's suggestions in regard to medical education may be carried
-out. The author has rendered a great service to the profession
-and to the cause of morals and religion by the publication of
-this able and high-toned oration, and we trust it may receive a
-wide circulation, and exert an equally wide influence. Dr. Hewit
-served with great distinction as chief of medical staff to
-Generals C. F. Smith, Grant, and Schofield during the late war,
-and contributed some valuable papers to the medical journals. We
-are indebted to him for some of the best literary notices which
-have appeared in our columns, and the present oration not only
-shows scientific culture and sound principles, but also a
-capacity for producing literary composition of many varied and
-rare excellences, combining terse and close logical reasoning
-with a vivid play of the imagination. The closing sentence is
-remarkably beautiful, and speaks of the adventurous life which
-the author led during his military career.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The sun has crossed the meridian, and tends toward the western
-  horizon; the tops of the distant mountains are bathed in purple
-  light, and the black shadows at their base <i>begin to creep in
-  a stealthy and hound-like manner over the plain; </i>a rising
-  murmur in the branches of the forest warns us to lift up again
-  our burdens, and take our respective roads."
-</p>
-<p>
-We should like to see a volume from the pen that wrote this
-sentence, in which the descriptive power of the author would have
-full scope, and another in which the sound principles of
-philosophy and morals contained in the oration in an aphoristic
-form would be fully developed.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Glimpses Of Pleasant Homes;<br>
-  Or, Stories For The Young.<br>
-  By the authoress of <i>Mother McAuley</i>.<br>
-  Illustrated. 1 vol. 12mo, vellum cloth.<br>
-  Catholic Publication Society,<br>
-  126 Nassau Street. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-No one can read a sentence of the preface to this volume without
-becoming deeply interested in the book itself.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_424">{424}</a></span>
-Every line tells us that the author has something important to
-say, and that her whole soul is in the work of educating the
-moral faculties of children simultaneously with their physical
-and mental powers. Her aim is to enlist all heads of families in
-the work, by making their homes pleasant refuges from the
-troubles of busy life, in which their few leisure hours may be
-spent in "fitting all those under their charge for the duties of
-this earth, without unfitting them for heaven."
-</p>
-<p>
-The responsibility of forming and directing the tastes of
-children is often thrown upon the school-teacher; and, while the
-father builds gorgeous business palaces for the benefit of his
-family, their future welfare is perilled and their whole life
-embittered by the system of education "which assumes the
-obligations of priest and parent, and is gradually driving filial
-piety from the face of the earth."
-</p>
-<p>
-This book contains not only good examples of the practical
-working of kindness and love, but points out the manner in which
-the parents make many blunders in the management of young and
-boisterous children. Some regard their mechanical toys as causes
-of trouble, and wish their children would play outside, "and keep
-their noise, dust, and confusion out of sight and hearing of
-their seniors." Experience among families where such is the fact
-has taught the author to depict with truth the results:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "These parents who should have aided in developing and
-  cultivating the tastes of their children, may possibly find,
-  ere long, that there are no tastes to be developed save those
-  acquired in the streets, where habits have been formed which it
-  is now all but impossible to root out. Their children have, as
-  the phrase is, got beyond them; not because, as is often
-  falsely asserted, juvenile human nature is different now from
-  what it was in other ages, or because its lot happens to be
-  cast in the United States of America, but because parents have
-  not done their part to multiply and strengthen the sweet and
-  powerful ties that could and should bind their children
-  indissolubly to them."
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  To warn parents against this evil, to cause them to be kind to
-  their children, and to bind the child more closely to its home,
-  the author has written these <i>Glimpses of Pleasant Homes</i>,
-  in which mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters are made to
-  speak and act in so natural a manner that every reader will be
-  forced to love them.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  In those happy homes, we find boys full of life and fun, but
-  always eager to listen to interesting and useful instruction;
-  girls who are not dolls, made to act and speak by machine; and
-  fathers and mothers whose example will force every parent to
-  give a little thought to the manner in which they treat their
-  offspring. The story of little Frank will be long remembered by
-  those who read it, and all will like the manly little fellow,
-  who gravely says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "'I should rather be whatever it is right to be,' returned the
-  boy. 'The Catholics have the Blessed Virgin, and I think they
-  must be right, for every one knows the Lord would not let his
-  own mother stay in the wrong place. I asked Mr. Griffin was she
-  a Calvinist or a Unitarian, and he said no, that she was a
-  Catholic. Now, I want to be of her church, and I don't see why
-  I cannot receive the sacraments as well as Tommy and Bernard.
-  Please, mamma, allow me, and I'll be ever so good and steady.'"
-  And immediately after tells us that John Griffin is a
-  first-rate fellow, because "he gives me lots of fruit, and
-  tells me pleasant stories about birds and angels."
-</p>
-<p>
-Every story in this book will amuse the young, interest the old,
-and instruct all in the secret ways of showing kindness to those
-with whom they may come in contact. Kindness is the author's
-watchword; every line bears witness to her love of her
-fellow-beings; she fulfils her mission of kindness in a
-delightfully pleasant manner, and few will finish reading <i>The
-Glimpses</i> without wishing for many more such pictures, and
-hoping that the author may enjoy a little of that happiness on
-this earth, which she so lavishly bestows on her readers.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Black Forest.<br>
-  Village Stories<br>
-  by Berthold Auerbach.<br>
-  Translated by Charles Goepp.<br>
-  New York: Leypoldt & Holt.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_425">{425}</a></span>
-<p>
-This volume is a collection of stories from the German, filled
-with quaint illustrations of peasant life in the Black Forest.
-The representations are well drawn and life-like; but the tales,
-with two or three exceptions, fail to interest, except as
-illustrations of strange phases of human life, and odd customs
-retained from age to age by people who seldom left their own
-hamlets, or heard from the outer world.
-</p>
-<p>
-Each story carries through some of the characters introduced
-before, so that there is an intimate connection between them all.
-In general, they have no special moral teaching, but there are
-two notable exceptions, in the story of "Ivo, the Gentleman," and
-"The Lauterbacher."
-</p>
-<p>
-The first of these, "Ivo the Gentleman", professes to give the
-life of a Catholic family, and the story of a student in his
-preparation for the priesthood. We cannot fail to be interested
-in the home-life of the collegian, and anxiously watch the
-development of doubts and difficulties in his path; but there is
-a coldness and hardness in the analyzation of his perplexities
-and his religious footsteps that lead one to feel that there is
-little vitality in the creed of the author.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the story of "The Lauterbacher," there are many striking
-thoughts brought out with such charming familiarity as to make
-one wonder why they have never before seen them on paper. The
-moral of this tale is clear and good. Now and then, however, one
-meets with a touch of the mystical transcendentalism with which
-many of the works of this author abound; but we find in this
-volume less of these fancies than in anything we have seen from
-his pen.
-</p>
-<p>
-The stories are interspersed with grotesque wood-cuts as
-illustrations, with a sprinkling of fantastic rhymes, which
-remind us forcibly of our childhood's first introduction to the
-muses through the whimsical measures of Mother Goose's Melodies.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Biographical Sketches.<br>
-  By Harriet Martineau.<br>
-  New York: Leypoldt & Holt. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-No one at all familiar with the mental characteristics and
-proclivities of Harriet Martineau could expect from her pen a
-more liberal view of the characters which she has here attempted
-to delineate than the volume before us actually presents. The
-ordinary reader, ignorant of or not fully appreciating the
-standpoint from which the authoress judges the dispositions and
-achievements of mankind will, however, experience a feeling of
-disappointment and dissatisfaction. The tone of many of her
-sketches is depreciatory. The time-honored maxim, "<i>Nil de
-mortuis</i>," etc., is rigidly ignored, and the shadows in the
-lives of the personages she notices are brought into striking
-contrast with the sunlight of their virtues and accomplishments.
-We remark this especially in regard to those whose work in the
-world was of a religious or charitable nature. It grates upon our
-inward reverence for men, whose toil and self-sacrifice have
-resulted even in a transient benefit to mankind, to be told that
-they were mere creatures of an ephemeral occasion, or the
-unconscious agents of political aspirants; that the seed which
-they sowed had no root, and the plant has withered away. It seems
-like an aspersion on the moral capabilities of the human race
-when those men who reach the highest ranks of ecclesiastical and
-religious preferment are represented as untrue to their
-convictions, and recreant to the principles confided to their
-propagating and protecting care. Miss Martineau does good morals
-and large charity no service, by showing that their outward
-exercise may coexist with hypocrisy, tergiversation, and sordid
-self-seeking. Nor is it absolute justice to the dead that, having
-during life received from her no admonition to correct their
-faults, they should at last, when such correction has become
-impossible, be held up to posterity as being, after all, but
-frail and failing specimens of human kind.
-</p>
-<p>
-With this exception, we have found the work before us worthy of
-the encomiums bestowed upon it by the press both of this country
-and England. It is a handbook to read and remember, to take up
-with interest and lay down with pleasure, and, after the first
-reading, to  consult, from time to time, as a gallery of
-portraits painted from subjects of unusual eminence by a skilful
-hand.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_426">{426}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Free-masons.<br>
-  What they are&mdash;What they do&mdash;What they are aiming at.<br>
-  From the French of Mgr. Sègur,
-  author of <i>Plain Talk</i>.<br>
-  Boston: Patrick Donahoe. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-The best notice we can give of this book is to reproduce an
-extract from the translator's preface:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "This short treatise, written, not by the archbishop of Paris,
-  as carelessly stated by some newspapers, but by Mgr. de Sègur,
-  the author of the work lately translated and published under
-  the title of <i>Plain Talk</i>, was composed to unveil and show
-  Free-Masonry <i>as it is in the old world</i>. Its strictures,
-  therefore, are not wholly applicable to Freemasonry as it is in
-  the United States. Yet Masons here may read it with profit to
-  themselves; and those who are not Masons, but might be tempted
-  to join some lodge, will, it is hoped, abandon the idea if they
-  read this book. Even here, Free-Masonry is a secret society,
-  and to become a member of it, one must take at least an oath,
-  and swear by the name of God to do so and so. Now, God's
-  command is, 'Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God
-  in vain.' And surely it is taken in vain by American
-  Free-Masons, because they take it without any sufficient and
-  justifiable cause. For, apart from other ends of their society,
-  and especially that of affording members a chance never to want
-  what assistance they may need in case of a momentary difficulty
-  in their affairs or loss of means or health, the main object
-  seems to be to meet at times, in order to spend an afternoon in
-  a merry way, and to partake of banquets provided for the
-  occasion. But where is the necessity to bind one's self by an
-  oath, to gather now and then round a bountifully supplied
-  table, or even to be charitable, and, for such purposes, to be
-  a member of a <i>secret</i> society? We have many benevolent
-  societies; there is no secret about them, no oath to be taken
-  by those who wish to be members of them. Their object is to
-  carry out the principles of Christian charity; to that they
-  bind themselves simply by a promise, as also to contribute so
-  much for the purposes of the society. There are other
-  objections to joining Free-Masonry, even here; but this is not
-  the place to discuss that subject."
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-    The Dublin Review, for April, 1869.<br>
-    London, Brown, Oates & Co.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-Dr. Ward On American Orthodoxy.
-</p>
-<p>
-The <i>Dublin Review</i> for April closes a notice of F.
-Weninger's late book on <i>Papal Infallibility</i> with the
-following sentence: "In the United States, no less than in these
-islands, a higher and more orthodox type of Catholic doctrine
-seems rapidly gaining the ascendant. To God be the praise!" This
-implies that hitherto a low and unorthodox type of doctrine has
-had the ascendant among us&mdash;an insinuation not very complimentary
-to our hierarchy, clergy, professors of theology, and Catholic
-writers. We deny the charge emphatically, and affirm positively
-that no type of doctrine, whatever, is now gaining the ascendant
-over any different one which has formerly had the ascendant. The
-maxims of that set of court canonists, who maintain the
-superiority of the episcopate in council over the pope, and deny
-the superiority of the pope over a general council, have never
-prevailed or been advocated in this country. The dogmatic decrees
-of the holy see have always been received here as binding on the
-interior assent to the full extent to which the holy see intends
-to impose them; and as for filial obedience to the pontifical
-authority in matters of discipline, Gregory XVI. expressed the
-true state of the case when he said that he was nowhere so
-completely pope as in the United States. The encyclical of Pius
-IX. was received without a whimper of opposition, and our college
-of bishops, in their steadfast loyalty to the holy father, amid
-his struggles with the assailants of his temporal authority, have
-represented the universal sentiment of their clergy and laity.
-The spirit of the theology which has always been taught in our
-seminaries, and prevalent among our clergy, may be seen in the
-works of that great prelate, one of the glories of both Ireland
-and the United States, the late Archbishop Kenrick.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_427">{427}</a></span>
-A large number of our bishops and leading clergymen have been
-thoroughly educated and received the doctor's cap at Rome, and we
-are sure that they have never come into collision with any body
-of their brethren holding contrary opinions, or found it
-necessary to make any imputation on their orthodoxy. We esteem
-highly the great services which Dr. Ward has rendered to
-religion, and the many noble qualities of mind and heart which he
-has exhibited from the beginning of his Oxford career to the
-present moment. We think, however, that the impetuosity of his
-zeal needs a little curbing, and that if he were somewhat more
-sparing of reproofs and admonition to his brethren and fathers in
-the church, which savor more of the novice-master than the
-editor, his review would be much more useful, as well as more
-generally acceptable. We know that our opinion on this point is
-shared by some of our most distinguished prelates, who are as
-thoroughly Roman in their theology as Dr. Ward can profess to be,
-and we think there are few on this side the water who would
-dissent from it.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Church Embroidery, Ancient And Modern,<br>
-  Practically Illustrated.<br>
-  By Anastasia Dolby,<br>
-  Late Embroideress to the Queen.
-<br><br>
-  Church Vestments;<br>
-  Their Origin, Use, And Ornament.<br>
-  By the same.<br>
-  For sale by the Catholic Publication Society,<br>
-  126 Nassau St., New-York.
-</p>
-<p>
-These two elegant volumes furnish a complete and practical
-description of every kind of ecclesiastical vestment, from the
-Roman collar to the Fanon, which, as Miss Dolby informs us,
-"appertains only to the vesture of the sovereign pontiff." The
-authoress is a "Ritualist," and, as will be seen, of the highest
-order of that formidable sect of the English Church, as by law
-established. Her books are full of costly engravings, the volume
-on church embroidery being adorned with a fine illuminated
-frontispiece&mdash;an antependium and frontal for high festivals&mdash;and
-the one on church vestments, with one representing a
-<i>Pontifical High Mass</i>, in which the deacon is a little out
-of place for such a mass, according to the rite as celebrated by
-the "Roman obedience," but which, we presume, is strictly in
-accordance with the "Anglican obedience." We smile at the pretty
-piece of assumption, but forgive Miss Dolby from our hearts, for
-we have derived the greatest pleasure and benefit from the use of
-her valuable books. Although the volumes are costly, yet the
-information they contain would be considered cheap at treble the
-price by those who are interested in furnishing the holy
-sanctuary with all things appertaining thereto, in good taste.
-The authoress is a practical workwoman, and not only tells us
-<i>what</i> to do, but also, what is of the highest moment to
-many of us, <i>how</i> to do it.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Ark Of The Covenant;<br>
-  or, a Series of Short Discourses upon the Joys, Sorrows,
-  Glories, and Virtues of the Ever Blessed Mother of God.<br>
-  By Rev. T. S. Preston.<br>
-  New York: Robt. Coddington.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is a new edition of a work already, we are sure, widely
-known and much admired. It is prepared by the reverend author to
-suit the beautiful devotion of the month of May, and we do not
-hesitate to say that it is the best one for that purpose yet
-written. It is truly refreshing to meet with a book like this,
-when one has had a surfeit (as who has not) of the many namby
-pamby <i>Months of Mary</i>, from whose pages we have been
-expected to cull flowers of piety for our spiritual enjoyment of
-the sweet season dedicated to the Blessed Virgin.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The General; Or, Twelve Nights In The Hunter's Camp.<br>
-  A Narrative of Real Life.<br>
-  Illustrated by G. G. White.<br>
-  Boston: Lee & Shepard.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is an account of the doings of the D&mdash;&mdash; Club, on one of its
-annual excursions. It is interspersed with stories told round the
-camp-fire, by "the general," of his own adventures in the west,
-when it was still the home of the Indian, and immigrants and
-land-surveyors were slowly finding their way through the forests
-and over the prairies.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_428">{428}</a></span>
-<p>
-The club were encamped near Swan Lake, two miles east of the
-Mississippi, and for twelve days gave themselves up to all the
-pleasure and excitement of hunting and fishing. They had a good
-time, and one almost envies them the fresh, pure air, the
-freedom, the invigorating sport, and enjoyment of nature. The
-author thinks that "more tents and less hotels in vacation would
-make our professional men more vigorous. Moosehead and the
-Adirondacks are better recuperators than Saratoga, Cape May, and
-the Rhine; and fishing-rods and fowling-pieces are among the very
-best gymnastic apparatus for a college." Summer is coming, and
-the advice could be tried. The adventures of the general, and of
-the hunters at Swan Lake, would while away most pleasantly the
-hours of a warm summer afternoon on the Adirondacks or Lake
-George.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Reminiscences Of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.<br>
-  A Social and Artistic Biography.<br>
-  By Elise Polko.<br>
-  Translated from the German by Lady Wallace.<br>
-  New York: Leypoldt & Holt. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-A woman's book in every page and line, charming for its
-simplicity and pleasant gossip. Madame Polko was a friend and
-enthusiastic admirer of the great musician. All that he ever did,
-said, or wrote she tells us with an air of pride and earnestness
-only equalled by the <i>naïve</i> recital of all baby's wonderful
-pranks and precocious intelligence peculiar to young mothers.
-</p>
-<p>
-These reminiscences will do to beguile a dreamy summer hour, when
-the mind needs relaxation, and is not able to bear anything
-heavier than the innocent prattle of children, and the soothing
-sound of the seaside waves.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Ferncliffe.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo.<br>
-  Philadelphia: P. F. Cunningham. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Ferncliffe</i> is an interesting tale of "English country
-life." The author has been fortunate enough to give us scenes and
-characters which appear in all respects very natural, and
-therefore are exceedingly interesting. It is seldom we find a
-book containing so many characters, each possessing some
-peculiarity, and all kept in that complete subordination to the
-principal one which is so necessary to the full development of
-the plot.
-</p>
-<p>
-The book is neatly printed on fine paper, and is a credit to the
-enterprising publisher who, we are glad to see, is accepting the
-"situation," and making his books in conformity with the
-improvements of the age in style and manner of getting up. We
-wish all our publishers would do the same; for it is high time
-that Catholic books appeared in as good a dress as non-Catholic
-books.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Salt-water Dick.<br>
-  By May Mannering.<br>
-  Boston: Lee & Shepard. Pp. 230. 1869.
-<br><br>
-  The Ark Of Elm Island.<br>
-  By Rev. Elijah Kellogg.<br>
-  Boston: Lee & Shepard. Pp. 288. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-In these volumes we have, in addition to the usual amount of
-amusing incident and startling adventure inseparable from sea
-voyages, a very full and interesting description of life at the
-Chincha Islands, the great guano depot; pleasant glimpses into
-Lima, Rio Janeiro, and Havana; graphic details of encounters with
-sea-lions, etc.; a dreadful storm in the Gulf of Mexico, with a
-wonderful escape from shipwreck by literally "pouring oil on the
-troubled waters," the whole agreeably diversified with numerous
-facts in natural history.
-</p>
-<p>
-Combining amusement with instruction, books such as these have a
-great fascination for boys, and may, in most cases, be safely
-recommended.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Dotty Dimple Stories.<br>
-  Dotty Dimple At School.<br>
-  By Sophie May, Author of <i>Little Prudy Stories</i>.<br>
-  Illustrated.<br>
-  Boston: Lee & Shepard.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_429">{429}</a></span>
-<p>
-This story is one of a series, although quite complete in itself.
-They are all admirably written; for children's stories, they are
-almost perfect. They teach important lessons without making the
-children feel that they are taught them, or giving them an
-inclination to skip over those parts. If the little folks get
-hold of these books, they will be certain to read them, and ever
-afterward count Miss Dotty Dimple and dear little Prudy among
-their very best friends. Such a pen only needs to be guided by
-Catholic faith to make it perfect for children. We do not say
-this with any want of appreciation of what it is already, for its
-moral lessons are beautifully given; but what might they not be,
-enlightened by the truth, the holiness, and the beauty of
-Catholic faith!
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Alice's Adventures In Wonder Land.<br>
-  By Lewis Carroll.<br>
-  With forty-two Illustrations by John Tenniel.<br>
-  Boston: Lee & Shepard, 49 Washington Street. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-These adventures are most wonderful, even for Wonderland. One
-cannot help regretting that children should be entertained in
-this way instead of by some probable or possible adventures. They
-are well written, and the illustrations are excellent.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Juliette; Or, Now And Forever.<br>
-  By Mrs. Madeline Leslie.<br>
-  Boston: Lee & Shepard. Pp.416. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-A religious tale, strictly Protestant, plentifully besprinkled
-with scriptural texts, allusions, etc., which will, no doubt,
-prove deeply interesting to those for whose special delectation
-it is intended.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-<i>The Catholic Publication Society</i> have purchased all the
-stereotype plates and book stock of Messrs. Lucas Brothers,
-Baltimore. Some of these books have been out of print for some
-years, or have not been kept constantly before the public. The
-society will soon issue new editions of all of them.
-</p>
-<p>
-Messrs. Murphy & Co., Baltimore, have just issued an edition of
-Milner's <i>End of Controversy</i>, in paper covers, which is
-sold for seventy five cents a copy.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. P. F. Cunningham, Philadelphia, will soon publish <i>Catholic
-Doctrine, as defined by the Council of Trent</i>, expounded in a
-series of conferences delivered in Geneva during the Jubilee of
-1851, by Rev. Father Nampon, of the Society of Jesus; proposed as
-a means of reuniting all Christians. It will make an octavo
-volume of some 600 or 700 pages.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Roberts Brothers, Boston:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Handy-volume Series. Realities of Irish Life.
-<br><br>
-  Little Women; or, Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy.<br>
-  By Louisa M. Alcott.<br>
-  2 Vols. Illustrated.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="center">
-    Foreign Literary Notes.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Abbé Sire, Superior of the Seminary of St. Sulpice, some time
-since undertook to procure the translation of the bull
-"<i>Ineffabilis</i>" into all the written languages of the world.
-In this vast enterprise he has made great progress, and more than
-a year ago his zeal received the honoring recognition of the holy
-father in a letter addressed to him, beginning: "Hinc gratissimum
-nobis accidit, Dilecte Fili, consilium a Te susceptum curandi, ut
-Apostoliae Nostrae de dogmatica Immaculati ejusdem Dei Genitricis
-Conceptus Definitione Litterae e latino idiomate in omnes
-converteretur linguas."
-</p>
-<p>
-Catholic Ireland has made a handsome contribution to M. Sire's
-work in a volume published in Dublin, containing the Bull and its
-translation into the French, Latin, and Irish languages. The
-Irish translation is by the Rev. Patrick J. Bourke, President of
-St. Jarlath's College, Tuam, where, alone in all Ireland, under
-the auspices, and, we may say, the national enthusiasm of the Rt.
-Rev. Dr. McHale, the language of Ireland is taught, and
-endeavored to be preserved. We say endeavored; for it seems that,
-excepting among the hills of Connaught, the mother tongue of the
-Celtic race has died, or is rapidly dying out in the green
-island. Dr. Bourke's volume, published in Dublin, is a fine
-specimen of typography.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_430">{430}</a></span>
-<p>
-We believe, although we have never seen any announcement of it,
-that Dr. Bourke is also the editor of the <i>Keltic Journal and
-Indicator</i>, a semi-monthly commenced at Manchester, (England,)
-in January last. Why it is called Keltic, instead of Gaelic or
-Irish, we do not know, nor can we understand why it should be
-published in England rather than in Ireland. Two other Gaelic
-races, the Welsh, and the Bretons of France, have periodicals in
-their native dialect; the latter, the Feiz he Breiz, and the
-former, several.
-</p>
-<p>
-The dying out of the Irish language on the lips of a million of
-people who speak it, may be attributed mainly to two
-causes&mdash;emigration, and the indifference of its own race.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is still another difficulty. Its pronunciation no longer
-accords with its received orthography, and, as written, it is
-encumbered with a quantity of unpronounced letters. If the
-language is to continue to exist as a written one, a radical
-reform similar to that effected by the Tcheks in the Bohemian
-dialect at the end of the last century is absolutely necessary.
-Meantime, Dr. Bourke is entitled to great praise for his
-unceasing efforts in the cause of Ireland's national literature.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-The publishing house of Adrien Le Clerc (Paris) announces an
-important work in press. It is <i>L'Histoire des Conciles</i>, in
-ten volumes 8vo, (large,) of 640 pages each. The first volume
-appeared on the 31st of January. It is a translation, by the
-Abbés Goschler and Delarc, from the German of Dr. Ch. Jos.
-Hefele, Professor of Theology at the University of Tübingen. The
-Messrs. Clarke, of Edinburgh, have announced an English
-translation of the same work from the German.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-<i>The Femall Glory, or the Life and Death of our Blessed Lady,
-the Holy Virgin Mary, God's owne immaculate Mother, etc. etc.</i>
-By Anthony Stafford, Gent. London, 1635. Reprinted in 1869. An
-exact typographical reproduction of the original, in all its
-quaintness of ancient characters and antiquity of English,
-preceded by the apology of the author (Stafford) and an essay on
-the cultus of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Edited by the Rev. Orby
-Shipley.
-</p>
-<p>
-Independently of its intrinsic merit, this work has always
-attracted great attention, from the fact that it was written by a
-member of the English (Episcopal) Church, and approved by
-prelates of that denomination as distinguished as Laud and Juxon.
-</p>
-<p>
-As a matter of course, such a book was found to be "egregiously
-scandalous" by the Puritans, who looked upon it as nothing short
-of a device of papacy. And Henry Burton, minister of Friday
-street, London, in a sermon, <i>For God and the King</i>,
-denounced  "several extravagant and popish passages therein, and
-advised the people to be aware of it." This was the beginning of
-a controversial war concerning the "Femall Glory" that made it
-one of the most notable works of the day. That a papist should
-have written such a book might have passed without comment, but
-that a noble Stafford of Northamptonshire, a graduate of Oriel
-College Oxford, and a staunch Church of England man, should have
-done this thing was an irremissible sin in Puritanic eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Stafford was distinguished as a man of letters, and wrote various
-other works, most of them with quaint titles, according to the
-taste of that day; as,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  <i>Niobe dissolved into a Nilus: or his Age drowned in her own
-  tears.</i> 1611.
-<br><br>
-  <i>Heavenly Dogge: a Life and Death of that Great Cynick
-  Diogenes; whom Laertius styled Canis Caelestis, the Heavenly
-  Dogge</i>. 1615.
-</p>
-<p>
-The attacks of Burton and others brought out <i>A Short Apology,
-or Vindication of a book entitled Femall Glory, etc.</i>, which
-is republished in the fourth edition of 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>The Femall Glory </i> is a book of genuine English growth,
-entirely free from imitation or adaptation of foreign words, and,
-beyond mere sketches of the most meagre character, the only full
-life of the Blessed Virgin.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_431">{431}</a></span>
-It is valuable, in a controversial point of view, as contrasting,
-the clear and distinct acknowledgment of the dignity and sanctity
-of the mother of God, as recognized by English Protestants of
-that, with the Episcopal Low Church views of the present day.
-Citations might be made from such men as Jeremy Taylor, Bishop
-Bull, Bishop Pearson, Archdeacon Frank, and Archbishop Bramhall,
-to show this conclusively. Not the smallest charm about the book
-is the odor of its quaint seventeenth century tone of thought and
-expression. Thus, in the preface "To the Feminine Reader" she is
-told, "You are here presented, by an extreme honourer of your
-Sexe, with a Mirrour of Femall Perfection. &hellip; By this, you
-cannot curle your haires, fill up your wrinckles, and so alter
-your Looks, that Nature, who made you, knowes you no more, but
-utterly forgets her owne Workmanship. By this, you cannot lay
-spots on your faces; but take them out of your Soules, you may."
-Then there is "The Ghyrlond of the Blessed Virgin Marie."
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "There are five letters in this blessed Name,
-    Which, chang'd, a five-fold Mysterie designe;
-  The M, the Myrtle, A, the Almonds clame,
-    R, Rose, I, Ivy, E, sweet Eglantine."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-That such a book should not find favor in the eyes of the London
-<i>Athenaeum</i>, is not surprising. The author of <i>Spiritual
-Wives</i> and the recognizer of the Pope Joan fable as veritable
-history could scarcely be expected to recognize merit in such a
-work as the <i>Femall Glory</i>.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-<i>A Slavonian Version of the Bible</i> is now in preparation at
-Rome. The original Slavonian text was the work of St. Cyril and
-St. Methodus, apostles to the Slavonians in the ninth century. In
-the lapse of years, the original text has been seriously tampered
-with by so-called emendators and incompetent copyists, so that it
-is now very difficult to determine several important questions
-concerning it. Was the translation made from the Latin, the
-Greek, or the Hebrew? What class of manuscripts were used by
-these apostles? Which of the Slavonian dialects was the vehicle
-of the translation? And, finally, was the original version
-written in glagolitic or cyrillic characters?
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-<i>The Staple of Biographical Notices</i> of Pope Sixtus V., is
-usually made up of a series of stories, to the effect that he was
-the son of ignorant parents and himself a swineherd; that he rose
-by his talents to the dignity of cardinal, and that, feigning
-extreme illness to the point of appearing to be on the verge of
-the grave from debility and disease, was no sooner elected to the
-papacy than he threw away his crutches and declared himself
-perfectly restored to health.
-</p>
-<p>
-These stories have found such favor with compilers of historical
-books that they have been carefully preserved in spite of their
-want of confirmation by contemporary historians. M. A. I.
-Dumesnil has lately written a life of Felix Peretti, Pope Sixtus
-V., in which he shows that his origin was not low, and that he
-was allied to the best families, short of nobility, of his
-province. The stories of his illness, simulated feebleness, and
-affected use of crutches, he pronounces to be all fabulous, and
-quotes Tempesti, one of the historians of the conclave which
-elected Sixtus, thus: "In electing Montalto pope, still vigorous
-of years, since he had reached only sixty-four and enjoyed a
-robust and vigorous constitution, it was felt certain that he
-would live long enough to bury Farnese and his partisans." M.
-Dumesnil does not appear to have added anything by research or
-discovery to the materials already known to be in existence, but
-has simply used the matter furnished by Tempesti, Guerra,
-Fontana, and other Italian historians, with skill and judgment.
-He bears testimony to the extraordinary talent, judgment, and
-energy of the great pontiff, whose reign of less than five years
-was, unfortunately, too short to complete the extensive reforms
-commenced by him in the temporal government of his territory.
-Sixtus V. was remarkable for his energy in the suppression of
-abuses, order and economy in the public finances, and unbending
-severity toward criminals, encouragement of industry, an
-enlightened fondness for the arts, as shown by numerous monuments
-and his patronage of the great architect, Fontana, and an
-inflexible determination to raise the holy see from any
-dependence upon foreign princes.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_432">{432}</a></span>
-<p>
-There is another <i>Life of Sixus</i> in preparation by Baron
-Hübner, formerly Austrian Ambassador to France, in which he
-promises numerous documents, French, Spanish, and English, never
-yet published.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [Six paragraphs have been moved, three paragraphs toward the
-  end, from this location according to the notice on page 711-2.]
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-<i>Concilium Seleuciae et Ctesiphonti</i>, habitum anno 410.
-Textum Syriacum edidit latine vertit notisque instruxit,
-T. J. Lamy. Lovanii, 1868.
-</p>
-<p>
-From ancient Syrian literature, so rich in works relative to the
-church, its history, its discipline, and its dogmas, the Abbé
-Lamy, Professor at the University of Louvain, has here selected
-one of its most precious monuments for translation and comment.
-Not less remarkable for the charm of their antique simplicity of
-language than their fulness of doctrine, these few pages alone
-would almost suffice to establish the complete symbolism of the
-church. "Confitemur etiam"&mdash;thus testify the fathers of the
-Council of Seleucia&mdash;"Spiritum vivum et sanctum, Paracletum
-vivum, QUI EX PATRE ET FILIO in una Trinitate, in una essentia,
-in una voluntate, amplectentes fidem trecentorum decem et octo
-Episcoporum, quae definita fuit in urbe Nicea. Haec est confessio
-nostra et fides nostra, quam accepimus a Sanctis Patribus
-Nostris.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [The following six paragraphs have been moved to this location
-  according to the notice on page 711-2.]
-</p>
-<p>
-It will be remembered that in the fifth century the
-Priscillianists, in those countries infected with the Arian
-heresy, took unfair advantage of the special mention made by the
-Council of Constantinople of the first person of the Trinity and
-of the omitted mention of the Son, to maintain that the Son was
-not consubstantial with the Father.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then followed the express insertion of the word FILIOQUE by
-decree of a general council.
-</p>
-<p>
-The history of the Greek schism turns upon this point, and
-students of church history will find high interest and solid
-instruction in tracing the reasons and circumstances connected
-with the fact that, although this addition of <i>filioque</i>
-really made no change in the doctrine of the church, although in
-the ninth century the western churches used it, and yet Pope Leo
-III. insisted on the use in Rome of the form adopted by the
-fathers of Constantinople, and although between the Greek and the
-Latin churches there was no divergence on this doctrinal point,
-nevertheless it was not until after the consummation of the
-schism of Photius and of Michael Cerularius that the Greeks began
-to pretend that they had never professed this dogma.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then follows the treatment of this question by the councils of
-fourth Lateran, (1215,) third Lyons, (1274,) and that of
-Florence, (1439.)
-</p>
-<p>
-Of course it will be seen that the importance of the action of
-the Council of Seleucia lies in the fact that it was composed of
-forty bishops, of whom one, at least, was a member of the first
-ecumenical council of Constantinople, and that it was called at
-the instigation and through the initiative of the Greek Church
-herself.
-</p>
-<p>
-So that, as the lawyers say, it does not lie in the mouth of the
-Greek Church, at the present day, to say that it is simply
-opposing a Latin innovation.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-In almost immediate connection with what we here remark on the
-Rev. Mr. Lamy's book, we may mention that the <i>Jacobi Episcopi
-Edessem Epistola ad Georgium Episcopum Sarugensem de Orthographia
-Syriaca</i>, so well known, at least by reputation, to oriental
-scholars, has at last been published at Leipsic. Assemanni and
-Michaelis frequently urged its printing, and Cardinal Wiseman,
-who took a strong and appreciative interest in the work, speaks
-of it at length in the first volume of his <i>Horae Syriacae</i>,
-(Rome, 1828.)
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-Monsignor Giuliani, of Verona, has published a work on public
-libraries, in which he shows that the libraries of Italy possess
-a greater number of volumes than the libraries of any other
-nation in the world. The Italian libraries number 6,000,000 of
-volumes; France, 4,389,000; Austria, 2,400,000; Prussia,
-2,040,000, Great Britain, 1,774,493; Bavaria, 1,268,000; Russia,
-882,090; Belgium, 509,100. Collections of books are much
-scattered in Italy. Paris has one third of all the library books
-in France, and most of the European capitals are rich in almost
-as great a proportion. This is not the case in Italy. Milan has
-only 250,000 volumes in the Brera library, and 155,000 in the
-Ambrosian.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_433">{433}</a></span>
-
-             <h1>The Catholic World.</h1>
-
-        <h2>Vol. IX., No. 52.&mdash;July, 1869.</h2>
-
-
-	   <h2>Columbus At Salamanca.</h2>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-                      "&mdash;&mdash;e di te solo
-  Basti ai posteri tuoi ch'alquanto accume:
-  Che quel poco darà lunga memoria
-  Di poema dignissima e d'istoria." [Footnote 121]
-         <i>Gierusalemme Liberata</i>, TASSO.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 121: "Thy single name will pour diviner light O'er
-    history's pages; and thy fame inspire Bards, who are yet
-    unborn, with more celestial fire."
-	</p><p class="right">
-                         Tasso's <i>Jerusalem Delivered</i>. ]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Some three years since, a large historical painting was exhibited
-at the gallery of the Artists' Fund Association in the city of
-New York. Its subject, as announced, was "Columbus before the
-Council of Salamanca." The picture was said to be a work of
-merit, and attracted much attention. It represented the great
-discoverer standing in the large hall of a convent, surrounded by
-monks and ecclesiastics, foremost among whom are three Dominican
-friars, who, having apparently worked themselves into a paroxysm
-of anger, face Columbus with gestures of violent denunciation.
-Grave, dignified, and majestic stands the great Genoese
-discoverer among them, apparently the only reasonable being in
-that assemblage of ignorance and bigotry, whose victim he is
-evidently about to become. The pictorial lesson sought to be
-conveyed was, clearly, that here was another Galileo business, a
-second <i>e pur si muove</i> sensation, a repetition of the
-favorite amusement of all churchmen, which every one knows to be
-the persecution of discoverers and the crushing out of knowledge.
-And the warrant for all this misrepresentation was said to be
-found in the pages of Washington Irving's <i>History of
-Columbus</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, a perusal of those pages shows that, although Mr. Irving
-committed a grave historical blunder in describing a "council of
-Salamanca" that had no existence, he nevertheless expressly
-excepts from any charge of ignorance and intolerance that may be
-implied from his language these very Dominican monks who, in Mr.
-Kauffman's historical picture, are made the foremost and most
-violent in their denunciation of Columbus.
-</p>
-<p>
-"When Columbus," says Irving, "began to state the grounds of his
-belief, the friars of St. Stephen's (Dominicans) <i>alone paid
-attention to him</i>, that convent being more learned in the
-sciences than the rest of the university. The others appear to
-have intrenched themselves behind one dogged proposition."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_434">{434}</a></span>
-<p>
-In the entire range of English art and literature so firmly have
-some of the most offensive forms of anti-Catholic prejudice
-become rooted, that, whenever any prominent historical character
-or incident comes in contact with the Catholic Church the
-occasion is seized, right or wrong, with or without authority,
-and often in the very teeth of history, to exemplify some phase
-of what people are pleased to call popish ignorance and
-persecution. Under the dark pall of bigotry that has so long
-overshadowed the genius of English literature, events which, in
-honest truth, should and do redound to the honor of the Catholic
-Church and its hierarchy as protectors of knowledge and promoters
-of noble enterprises have been, by a species of literary
-legerdemain, wrested into so many evidences of their intolerance.
-</p>
-<p>
-More than any country, England has furnished astounding and
-repulsive proofs of the truth of Count De Maistre's assertion
-that "History is a vast conspiracy against truth." With uplifted
-hands, dripping with the blood of the innocent, she accuses other
-nations of murder. With a statute-book black with intolerance and
-suppression of knowledge, she talks complacently of the rights of
-conscience and the blessings of education.
-</p>
-<p>
-In a lecture on Daniel O'Connell, delivered in Brooklyn on the
-fifth of March last, the distinguished orator, Wendell Phillips,
-of Boston, with all his eloquence, appeared almost at a loss
-fittingly to qualify, by description and illustration, the
-frightful tyranny of Protestant England against Catholic Ireland,
-as exemplified in the diabolical ingenuity of the means by which
-she sought to "stamp out" Irish nationality and annihilate
-Catholicity. And, Mr. Phillips might have added, she was as
-consistently bigoted at home as in Ireland. Here, the poor hedge
-schoolmaster if a Catholic, who taught a child its a b c, was,
-for the first offence, subject to banishment, and for the second,
-<i>to be hanged as a felon</i>. There, when the University of
-Oxford was asked to confer the honorary degree of A.M. on Alban
-Francis, a learned Benedictine, he was rudely thrust back, solely
-for the reason that he was a Catholic. And yet the same
-university had shortly before conferred the same degree on&mdash;a
-Mohammedan! The old distich is very trite, but on that occasion
-it was very true:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Turk, Jew, or atheist may enter here,
-      But not a papist."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-It is a memorable fact that Sir Isaac Newton particularly
-distinguished himself by active participation in this piece of
-bigotry. He actually suspended the preparation for the press of
-his <i>Principia</i>, and lent all the influence of his position
-and his great name in order that an Englishman, distinguished for
-his virtues and his learning, might not, because he was a
-Catholic, receive the cheap recognition of the honorary degree of
-a Protestant university. And Newton's English biographer coolly
-states that "it was this circumstance, perhaps, as much as the
-personal merit of Newton, that induced the university to select
-him, the following year, to serve as their representative in
-parliament."
-</p>
-<p>
-But space fails us to dwell on this subject, and we desire merely
-to note the fact that, so thoroughly has a spirit of intolerant
-anti-Catholicity permeated English literature, that its
-expression, in some shape, is constantly found at the points of
-the pens of many who are personally unconscious of any such
-inspiration.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_435">{435}</a></span>
-The spirit we refer to so thoroughly pervades every department of
-literature&mdash;history, biography, travels, poetry, philosophy&mdash;that
-from youth to old age it is unconsciously infiltrated into the
-mental processes of every one who uses the English language as a
-means of acquiring or communicating knowledge. Even as we write,
-an instance of this presents itself. Here is a passage from the
-editorial columns of a leading daily, published in Brooklyn, the
-third city of the Union:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "&mdash;&mdash;the church so long deemed the enemy of human freedom and
-  intellectual progress, which imprisoned Galileo, and <i>tried
-  to thwart Columbus</i> in putting the girdle of her ancient
-  faith around the world!"
-</p>
-<p>
-And yet the article from which this extract is made is evidently
-written in a spirit that its author honestly supposes to be one
-of entire freedom from religious prejudice. The church tried to
-thwart Columbus! That is the main idea of the passage quoted, as
-it was also the inspiration of the Kauffman painting. Such ideas
-and such inspiration are the result of general prejudice and a
-foregone conclusion.
-</p>
-<p>
-Of course we are aware of the accommodating pliability of the
-term "the church," as used by writers who have anything
-disagreeable or false to say of Catholicity. "The church" is, by
-turns, a council, the pope, the cardinals, the inquisition, a
-bishop or two, a knot of priests, sometimes only one, a king, a
-viceroy, a barefooted friar, a dying nun, or even a simple
-layman. It is really difficult and discouraging to deal with
-people who either cannot or will not abide by some standard of
-meaning for words whose proper acceptance is well defined and
-recognized.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the case of Columbus these misrepresentations are the more
-remarkable for the reason that there is no history of the
-discovery of America, no biography of Columbus, how ever
-imperfect, however prejudiced it may be, from whose perusal the
-student can arise with any other conviction than that Columbus,
-so far from being thwarted, was, on the contrary, enabled to
-succeed in obtaining from Spain the means to fit out his
-expedition only, wholly, and solely by reason of the
-encouragement and aid he received from friars, priests, bishops,
-and cardinals!
-</p>
-<p>
-From the moment he set foot on Spanish soil until he sailed from
-Palos the generous sympathy and brave advocacy of churchmen never
-forsook him. Never for a moment did they waver in their
-appreciation of his noble nature, his sincere piety, and the
-merit of his enterprise. From the Dominicans cloistered in St.
-Stephens to Luis de St. Angel, high treasurer at the royal court;
-from the saintly hermit of La Rabida to the grand Cardinal
-Mendoza, ("a man of sound judgment, quick intellect, eloquent and
-able," says Washington Irving,) in all are found the same
-generous enthusiasm and unwavering boldness in their support of
-the strange sailor's enterprise.
-</p>
-<p>
-And now, should Mr. Kauffman, or any other artist, desirous of
-painting a great picture without pandering to a taste as false in
-art as in history, desire to select a striking incident from the
-history of Columbus, we beg leave to suggest that, without flying
-in the face of truth, he may find it among the following
-historical incidents:
-</p>
-<p>
-First. Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, in appearance lofty and
-venerable, of generous and gentle deportment, pleading the cause
-of Columbus before the queen.
-</p>
-<p>
-Second. The friar Diego de Deza aiding Columbus in sore necessity
-from his own scant purse.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_436">{436}</a></span>
-<p>
-Third. Juan Perez, prior of the convent of La Rabida,
-remonstrating  with Columbus against abandoning his great
-enterprise and quitting Spain.
-</p>
-<p>
-Fourth. The same prior saddling a mule at midnight to confront
-the dangers of mountain passes, and an enemy's country, in order
-to intercede for Columbus with the queen at Santa Fé.
-</p>
-<p>
-Fifth. The same noble monk pleading the cause of Columbus before
-the queen with such chivalrous enthusiasm that "Isabella never
-heard the proposition urged with such honest zeal and impassioned
-eloquence."
-</p>
-<p>
-Sixth. Another noble ecclesiastic, Luis de St. Angel, who,
-rivalling Isabella's magnanimity, met the queen's noble offer to
-pledge her crown jewels to raise the necessary funds for
-Columbus's expedition with the assurance that she need not, for
-he would advance the money.
-</p>
-<p>
-But to return to the "council of Salamanca." The word council
-presents the idea of a solemn ecclesiastical assemblage: not a
-committee, not a board, not a junto; but something grand,
-elevated in dignity and large in numbers. When you say "council,"
-every one, instinctively, imagines a crowd of mitres and
-episcopal croziers.
-</p>
-<p>
-With that "fatal facility" which is the bane of historical
-composition Irving has given us an entire chapter of nine pages
-describing this famous "council," its debates, and its
-proceedings, and from this chapter has gradually, although&mdash;we
-must in justice to Mr. Irving say&mdash;unwarrantably, grown up a
-story that, by dint of thirty years' repetition, has almost
-acquired the dignity of an historical fact. That Prescott should
-have followed Irving is not surprising. That Lamartine should
-have disdained reference to historical sources and spoken of
-Spain of the fifteenth century with that wonderful <i>sans
-gêne</i> that improvises both form and substance, that writes an
-apotheosis of Robespierre and calls it a history of the
-Girondins, in which there is, of course, a florid description of
-"the last banquet," (which never took place,) is still less
-surprising. But that a Spaniard and a serious historian, Don
-Modesto Lafuente, should have written an important page in the
-history of his country on the word of an entire stranger is
-astounding.
-</p>
-<p>
-The whole of chapter third and part of chapter fourth of Irving's
-<i>Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus</i> are devoted to
-"the council." Irving represents Ferdinand "determined to take
-the opinion of the most learned men in the kingdom, and be guided
-by their decision." Ferdinand de Talavera, "one of the most
-erudite men of Spain and high in the royal confidence," was
-commanded to consult the most learned astronomers, etc. After
-they had informed themselves fully on the subject, they were to
-consult together and make a report to the sovereign of their
-collective opinion. After a long disquisition on the condition of
-learning and science at that time, Irving goes on to say: "Such
-was the period when a council of clerical sages was convened in
-the collegiate convent of St. Stephen to investigate the new
-theory of Columbus. It was composed of professors of astronomy,
-geography, mathematics and other branches of science, together
-with various dignitaries of the church and learned friars. &hellip;
-Among the number who were convinced by the reasoning and warmed
-by the eloquence of Columbus was Diego de Deza, a worthy and
-learned friar of the order of St. Dominick. He obtained for
-Columbus a dispassionate if not an unprejudiced hearing."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_437">{437}</a></span>
-Irving speaks of the assembled body as "this learned junto," and
-says that occasional conferences took place, but without
-producing any decision.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Talavera, to whom the matter was specially entrusted, had too
-little esteem for it, and was too much occupied to press it to a
-conclusion, and thus the inquiry experienced continual
-procrastination and neglect."
-</p>
-<p>
-So far the third chapter of Irving. It is a remarkable fact that,
-for all the important statements concerning the "council," Irving
-cites but one authority, Remesal, referring to book ii. chapter
-27, and book xi. chapter 7. In an endeavor to verify these
-citations we find that book ii. has but twenty-two chapters, and
-the passage referred to in book xi. chapter 7 is not there, but
-in book ii. chapter 7. But it is more than singular that Irving
-should refer to Remesal at all on that subject. Remesal was a
-learned Dominican monk and his work is a <i>History of the
-Provinces of Chiapa and Guatemala</i>, (America.) His book was
-completed in 1609, and first published in 1619. Personally, he
-was separated from the events at Salamanca by a space of one
-hundred and twenty years. He was not writing the history of Spain
-in 1487, and what he says concerning Salamanca is merely
-incidental, unquestionably correct though it be. Thus, he states
-that, with the aid of the Dominicans, Columbus brought over the
-most learned men of the university, and among the numerous claims
-to greatness of the convent of St. Stephen was that of having
-been the principal cause of the discovery of the Indies.
-[Footnote 122]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 122: "Y con el favor des los Religiosos reduxo a su
-    opinion los mayores Letrados de la escuela. &hellip; Entre las
-    muchas grundezas &hellip; una es aver sido la principal ocasion
-    del descubrimiento de las Indias."]
-</p>
-<p>
-To return to Irving. He relates  in chapter 4 that the
-"consultations of the board (first it was the council, then "this
-learned junto") at Salamanca were interrupted by the Spanish
-campaign against Malaga, before that learned body could come to a
-decision, and for a long time Columbus was kept in suspense,
-vainly awaiting the report that was to decide the fate of his
-application." It thus appears that the opinion of the council was
-not sufficiently adverse to Columbus to report at once and
-unfavorably of his project. Then followed the spring campaign of
-1487, the siege of Malaga, August, 1487. "In the spring of 1489,"
-says Irving, "Columbus was summoned to attend a conference of
-learned men to be held at the city of Seville."
-</p>
-<p>
-But if a fresh conference is to decide, what then was the value
-of the Salamanca council by whose decision, as Mr. Irving
-informed us a few pages back, King Ferdinand had resolved to be
-guided?
-</p>
-<p>
-"In 1490, Ferdinand and Isabella entered Seville in triumph.
-Spring and summer wore away. At court was Fernando de Talavera,
-<i>the procrastinating arbiter of the pretensions of
-Columbus</i>." So then the arbiter was Talavera, not the council,
-which, so far from condemning, have not yet, at the end of four
-years, given any decision concerning the affair of Columbus.
-</p>
-<p>
-The higher we remount with the authorities toward the epoch of
-"the council" the less do we find concerning it and concerning
-Salamanca. The chroniclers of their Catholic majesties, Hernando
-del Pulgar, Galindez, Carvajal, and others, make no mention of
-it, and Peter Martyr, Lucio Siculo, Gonzalez de Oviedo, Lopez de
-Gomara, and Sohs are equally silent on the subject.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_438">{438}</a></span>
-<p>
-It must be borne in mind, with regard to Columbus, that
-historical certainty begins really with the siege of Granada, in
-1492. Everything preceding that epoch is traditional, often vague
-and uncertain, and seldom supported by documentary evidence. A
-council at Salamranca held by royal order would have been
-authorized by special edict or decree. There was none. Neither
-was there any regular delegation to the university, no commission
-officially installed, no interrogatories, nor registers, nor
-records, followed by a definitive decree. The college and convent
-of St. Stephen (Dominican) was only one college of the many at
-Salamanca constituting the university. If such a council as
-Irving describes had ever been held there, reference to recorded
-proceedings, and a final decision in its archives, or in those of
-St. Stephen, could long since have been made.
-</p>
-<p>
-The truth is that the only authority for any statements
-concerning a committee of cosmographers is a passage in the life
-of the grand admiral, written by his son Fernando Columbus. As
-already remarked, the nearer we approach the period of the
-pretended "council" the less we hear about it. Herrera, whose
-sagacity, impartiality, and fidelity are universally recognized,
-thus relates the matter of the cosmographers, but not once does
-he mention "council" or "Salamanca." He says (1st Dec. book i,
-chap. vii.) "that Columbus's suit was so home pressed (y tanto se
-porfiò en ello) that their Catholic majesties, giving some
-attention to the affair, referred it to father Ferdinand de
-Talavera. He (Talavera) held a meeting of cosmographers who
-debated about it, (qui confirieron en ello,) but there being few
-then of that profession in Castile, and those none of the best in
-the world, and besides Columbus would not altogether explain
-himself, lest he should be served as he had been in Portugal,
-[Footnote 123] they came to a resolution nothing answerable to
-what he had expected."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 123: During his negotiation at Lisbon with the king
-    of Portugal, Columbus was requested to furnish for the
-    consideration of the royal council a detailed plan of his
-    proposed voyage, with charts and documents according to which
-    he intended to shape his course. As soon as these were
-    obtained, a well-manned vessel, under command of an able
-    captain, was despatched with orders to sail west on the
-    Atlantic according to the instructions of Columbus. Some few
-    days out from the Cape Verd Islands, the crew became
-    discouraged, and the vessel returned. The secret of its
-    mission soon transpired, and Columbus, outraged at the
-    treachery, left Portugal in disgust.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Herrera follows Ferdinand Columbus very closely; adopting, in
-many passages, his very words. Fernando makes no mention of
-Salamanca, says expressly that the cosmographers were called
-altogether by Talavera, and that Columbus held back his most
-important proofs lest what had happened him in Portugal might
-also happen him in Spain, (nè lo ammiraglio si volea lasciar
-tanto intendere che gli avenisse quel, che in Portogallo gli
-avvenne et gli urbassero la beniditione.)
-</p>
-<p>
-Fernando Columbus was a man of learning and ability, and his
-history is of great value. Unfortunately, the work, as he wrote
-it, is lost. It was, of course, in the Spanish language. It is
-said that a son of his brother Diego took the MS. to Genoa, where
-it was translated into Italian. The version now used in Spain is
-retranslated from the Italian, and abounds in errors. There is a
-very good copy of the Italian edition (Venice, 1685) in the Astor
-library.
-</p>
-<p>
-Munoz, the Spanish national historian who followed Herrera and
-precedes Navarette, was a scholar of great merits, talents, and
-liberal acquisitions. He was indefatigable in research, and being
-royal historiographer had free access to all the records of
-Spain. He says that Talavera was commissioned to examine the
-enterprise with cosmographers, and give their opinion.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_439">{439}</a></span>
-As the court happened that winter to be at Salamanca, they met
-there. It is to be regretted that no record exists of the
-conferences that took place in the Dominican convent of St.
-Stephen, from which to form an opinion of the condition of
-mathematics and astronomy in the university so famous in the
-fifteenth century. <i>It is clear, nevertheless, that Columbus
-established his propositions, produced his proofs, and met every
-objection</i>. [Footnote 124]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 124:  Talavera á quien los reyes encargaron la
-    comision de juntar à los sujetis habiles in cosmografia, para
-    examinar la empresa, y dar su pareceo. Formose la junta en
-    Salamanca, quizá per el invierno estando alli la corte. Es
-    lastima quo no hayan quidado documentis de las disputas que
-    se tuvieron en el convento de los dominicanos de San Esteban
-    para formar juicio del estado de las matematicas y astronomia
-    en aquella universidad famosa en el siglo XV. Coustu que
-    Colon sentaban sus proposisciones, exponfa sus fundamentos, y
-    satisfaciá a' las dificultades.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Munoz (<i>Historia del Nuevo Mundo</i>, pp. 57, 58, 59)
-continues: "Los dominicanos poner entre sus glorias el haber
-hospedado en San Esteban al descubridor de las Indias, dadole de
-comer y otros auxilios para seguir sus pretensiones; y sobra todo
-el haber estado por su opinion en equellas disputas, y atraido á
-su partido los primeros hombres de la escuela. En lo qual
-attribuyen la principal parte á Fray Diego Deza. &hellip; cuyo
-autoridad. &hellip; contribuyó mucho para los creditos y acceptacion
-de la empresa." [Footnote 125]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 125: The Dominicans are justly proud of the
-    hospitality extended by them in their convents to the
-    discoverer of America, entertaining him, and providing him
-    with all things necessary to pursue his projects; and still
-    more of having declared for him in the argument, drawing over
-    to his side the first men of the university. In all which the
-    great merit is due to Diego de Deza, whose influence
-    contributed greatly to the appreciation and adoption of the
-    enterprise.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Only a few years since, in 1858, Don Domingo Doncel y Ordar, of
-Salamanca, published a memoir in which he refutes the statements
-of Irving.
-</p>
-<p>
-A conference of cosmographers doubtless was held, but it was not
-of the nature described by Irving and those who copy him, nor was
-it a "council" with which the university of Salamanca had any
-official connection whatever.
-</p>
-<p>
-The archives, documents, and registers of the university have
-been searched with the most thorough diligence, and not a trace
-of the council is on record. The registers in particular,
-admirably kept and carefully preserved, were commenced in 1464
-and record incidents almost insignificant in interest, but make
-no mention of such a meeting or council as Irving speaks of. In
-this connection it is matter of surprise that such writers as
-Rosselly De Lorgues and Cadoret should still be chasing the
-phantom of this Salamanca council. The latter says that its
-decree was rendered five years after its first meeting, and De
-Lorgues supposes it probable that its records may yet be found in
-the archives of Simancas. If there had been any decision against
-Columbus by a body at all approaching the dignity and importance
-of the university of Salamanca, he would have immediately quitted
-Spain, never to return. But we find him leaving Salamanca strong
-in the support of its first scholars, of the entire body of
-Dominicans, and of the papal nuncio.
-</p>
-<p>
-That King Ferdinand should have directed Talavera to take the
-opinion of cosmographers is perfectly natural. This temporizing
-and shuffling treatment of Columbus would lead him to do anything
-that would gain time and put Columbus off. Even Isabella was
-evidently desirous of procrastinating until a successful
-termination of the siege of Granada should enable them to act in
-the matter.
-</p>
-<p>
-Reference to a committee or a board for the sake of delay
-indefinite is not an invention of the nineteenth century. It is
-as old as, if not older than, the period of Columbus.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_440">{440}</a></span>
-That  Columbus should, as his son Fernando relates, have
-hesitated to explain himself fully, was natural, and indeed
-inevitable. And with that hesitation there must have been a shade
-of disdain in his manner. It looks very much as though he had
-reserved his best, most cogent reasons for the private ear of his
-special friends the Dominicans, who were enthusiastically the
-advocates of his enterprise.
-</p>
-<p>
-We see Columbus leaving Salamanca not cast down and defeated, but
-serene and with all the courage of confirmed conviction. The
-noble Diego de Deza conducts him to the presence of Ferdinand and
-Isabella, and we soon afterward hear the hum of preparation at
-Palos.
-</p>
-<p>
-The latest historian of Columbus, Mr. Arthur Helps, separated
-from Washington Irving by a period of some forty years, is
-credited with ability, and great industry and research. He
-certainly has the advantage of extensive and successful
-discoveries of documents concerning Columbus made in Spain within
-that period. It would be but reasonable, therefore, to look for
-the throwing of much additional light and interesting details on
-so capital an incident as "the council of Salamanca." Here is the
-account given of it by Mr. Helps in his <i>Life of Columbus</i>,
-published since the commencement of the present year:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Amid the clang of arms and the bustle of warlike preparation,
-  Columbus was not likely to obtain more than a slight and
-  superficial attention to a matter which must have seemed remote
-  and uncertain.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Indeed, when it is considered that the most pressing internal
-  affairs of kingdoms are neglected by the wisest rulers in times
-  of war, it is wonderful that he succeeded in obtaining any
-  audience at all. However, he was fortunate enough to find at
-  once a friend in the treasurer of the household, Alonzo de
-  Quintilla, a man who, like himself, took delight in great
-  things, and who obtained a hearing for him from the Spanish
-  monarchs. Ferdinand and Isabella did not dismiss him abruptly.
-  On the contrary, it is said they listened kindly; and the
-  conference ended <i>by their referring the business to the
-  queen's confessor, Fra Hernando de Talavera</i>, who was
-  afterwards archbishop of Granada. This important functionary
-  summoned a junta of cosmographers (not a promising assemblage!)
-  to consult about the affair, and this junta was convened at
-  Salamanca in the summer of the year 1487.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Here was a step gained; the cosmographers were to consider his
-  scheme, and not merely to consider whether it was worth taking
-  into consideration. But it was impossible for the jury to be
-  unprejudiced. All inventors, to a certain extent, insult their
-  contemporaries by accusing them of stupidity and ignorance. And
-  the cosmographical pedants, accustomed to beaten tracks,
-  resented the heresy by which this adventurer was attempting to
-  overthrow the belief of centuries. They thought that so many
-  persons, wise in nautical matters, as had preceded the Genoese
-  mariner, never could have overlooked such an idea as this which
-  had presented itself to his mind. Moreover, as the learning of
-  the middle ages resided for the most part in the cloister, the
-  members of the junta were principally clerical, and combined to
-  crush Columbus with theological objections. &hellip; Las Casas
-  displays his usual acuteness when he says that the great
-  difficulty of Columbus was not that of teaching, but that of
-  unteaching; not of promulgating his own theory, but of
-  eradicating the erroneous convictions of the judges before whom
-  he had to plead his cause. In fine, the junta decided that the
-  project was 'vain and impossible, and that it did not belong to
-  the majesty of such great princes to determine anything upon
-  such weak grounds of information.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-Slender material, all this, for another Kauffman painting! Here
-is our council sunk to a junta&mdash;a junta of cosmographers&mdash;not an
-assemblage of theologians to decide what the church thought about
-the project, but a junta of men supposed to know something of
-geography and the conformation of the globe! The "theological
-objections" referred to by Mr. Helps were precisely the
-opportunity of Columbus's greatest triumph in giving him occasion
-to reveal himself to friends and enemies in a capacity never
-suspected to exist in him.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_441">{441}</a></span>
-Among the many traditions in Spain concerning "l'almirante"
-[Footnote 126] &mdash;traditions supported by his own writings and the
-testimony of such men as Las Casas&mdash;none are so well established
-as those that recount the eloquent inspiration of Columbus in
-citing or commenting the Scriptures. His perfect familiarity with
-them was not more admirable than his majesty of manner in
-declaiming their grandest passages.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 126: Humboldt says that whenever a Spaniard
-    mentions <i>L'Almirante</i>, he refers to but one, namely,
-    Columbus. Just as the Mexicans, when they speak of El
-    Marchese, mean Cortes, and the Florentines, when they name
-    <i>Il Segretario</i>, mean Macchiavelli.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Luther, as we learn from that remarkable book, <i>D'Aubigné's
-History of the Reformation, discovered</i>, unexpectedly
-discovered, to his great joy and surprise, a Bible chained to a
-window in the conventual library! Could not some modern D'Aubigné
-inform us how it was that an obscure Italian sailor could have
-happened upon a Bible in such countries as Italy, Portugal, and
-Spain, could have been permitted to read it&mdash;more than all that,
-could have had the temerity to quote it to the very face of
-monks, and priests, and, worse still, show them that he knew as
-much about it as they did? We commend the subject to the
-D'Aubigné editors.
-</p>
-<p>
-In saying that, in our belief, the life of Columbus has yet to be
-written, we express no new opinion.
-</p>
-<p>
-In this connection it is well remarked by the Marquis De Belloy,
-that the best history of Christopher Columbus would be the
-collection of his own writings accompanied by commentaries.
-Literary and bibliographical research and labor in Spain have
-succeeded in collecting nearly everything that Columbus wrote
-from the year 1492 up to the period of his death, and their
-publication is needed to show this truly grand character in his
-true light. Were Columbus simply a man of genius, an ordinary
-history would suffice to recount his life. But his soul was as
-great as his genius, and such a soul is its own best revelation.
-Next to the accomplishments of his great project, the discovery
-of a new world beyond the ocean, a world he distinctly saw, his
-dominant thought was&mdash;with the wealth that must necessarily be
-obtained from it&mdash;to reconquer and deliver from pagan hands the
-sepulchre of our Saviour!
-</p>
-<p>
-Profane history and modern impiety instinctively smile at such
-simplicity. Mr. Rosselly De Lorgues is one of the very few who
-have rendered justice to the religious phase of the character of
-the great mariner, and he shows that in Columbus constancy,
-perseverance, bravery, and honor were not more marked than
-elevated Catholic piety.
-</p>
-<p>
-To conclude with Salamanca, there is no more searching, truthful,
-and eloquent commentary on its results than the language of
-Columbus himself, for he has recorded it. We quote from Navarette
-(Madrid edition) vol. 1. p. xcii.:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Diego de Deza"&mdash;the Dominican monk&mdash;"was his (Columbus's)
-  special protector with Ferdinand and Isabella, and mainly
-  contributed to the success of his enterprise; referring to
-  this, Columbus himself said that from his coming into Castile
-  that prelate (Deza) had protected him, had striven for his
-  honor, and to him was it due that their majesties possessed the
-  Indies." [Footnote 127]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 127: "Por lo cual decia el mismo Colon que
-    <i>desde</i> que vino á Castilla le habia favorecido aquel
-    prelado y deseado su honora, y que el fue causa que SS. AA.
-    tuviesen las Indias."]
-</p>
-<p>
-For this passage Navarette quotes Remesal, <i>Historia di Chiapa
-e Guatemala</i>. A very characteristic performance in Navarette!
-It was impossible for him to avoid referring to what Columbus had
-said, and he weakens the force of it by not crediting it at once
-and directly to the proper authority, Las Casas&mdash;citing Las
-Casas's own words.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_442">{442}</a></span>
-<p>
-For Remesal expressly says that he takes it from Las Casas, (lib.
-i. al medio del cap. 29:) "Y assi (dize) en carta escrita de su
-mano de Christobal Colon vide que dezia al Rey: Que el suso dicho
-Maestro del Principe, Arcobispo de Sevilla D.F. <i>Diego Deza
-avia fido causa que los Reyes abrassen las Indias</i>."
-</p>
-<p>
-It is one thing to be told that Remesal uses the language cited
-by Navarette, and quite another thing to learn from Las Casas
-that he had seen <i>a letter written by Columbus himself, in
-which he told the king of Spain that their majesties owed their
-possession of the Indies to the Dominican monk Diego de Deza</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nothing, however, need surprise us from a historian who undertook
-the desperate task of extenuating the notorious injustice of
-Ferdinand toward Columbus. In its execution Navarette has
-needlessly and shamefully outraged the truth of history and the
-memory of the Great Discoverer.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<p>
-              <h2>Daybreak</h2>.
-
-            <h3>Chapter VIII.
-<br><br>
-        The Lord Answered Job
-         Out Of A Whirlwind.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard was perfectly confident in his expectation of being
-able to convince Miss Hamilton of her mistake. He knew her well
-enough to be sure that she would fearlessly acknowledge her error
-as soon as it should be made plain to her; and he did not doubt
-that the power to produce that conviction on her mind would be
-given him.
-</p>
-<p>
-He would not allow that first twinge of wounded personal pride
-and dignity of office, with which he had seen how light she held
-his authority in matters of religion, to stand in the way of his
-endeavors. The first dignity of his office was to perform its
-duties. Exacting respect was secondary.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard had one confident: his journal. The day the books
-were left on his table he wrote in it: "Tonight I am to read
-Milner's <i>End of Controversy</i>. O my God! may I read it by
-the light of thy Gospel! May a ray of heavenly truth fall on each
-page, expose its hidden falsehood, and teach me how best to prove
-that falsehood to this stray lamb who has been lured from thy
-fold into the den of the wolf."
-</p>
-<p>
-Two or three days passed, the book was read, and read again; but
-the refutation was not ready. Mr. Southard was too honest and too
-manly to think that personal abuse was a proper answer to
-theological argument. He remembered that when St. Michael set his
-foot upon the neck of Satan, and chained him to the rock, he did
-not use infernal weapons, or walk in loathsome ways; but his
-sword was tempered in heaven, and there was no mire upon his
-sandals.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_443">{443}</a></span>
-<p>
-"When I fight for the Lord," the minister said, "I will use the
-weapons of the Lord."
-</p>
-<p>
-He laid aside the first book, and took another. Again a few days,
-and yet he was not prepared to undermine his adversary.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am astonished at the ingenuity and subtlety of these writers,"
-was the record he made in those days. "All the resources of minds
-richly dowered by nature, highly cultivated by education, and
-inspired by some strange infatuation for what they call the
-church, have been brought to bear upon this question of polemics.
-How skilfully they mingle truth with falsehood! What beautiful,
-what touching, what sublime sentiments they drop in places where
-one would not go save so lured! It reminds me of my boyish days,
-when the scarlet blossom of a cardinal-flower would entice me
-down steep banks, and into dangerous waters, or some bloomy patch
-of ripe berries would draw my feet into a treacherous swamp. I
-begin to perceive the attraction which the Roman Church exercises
-on the unwary."
-</p>
-<p>
-It will be perceived that Mr. Southard had the rare courtesy not
-to use the word "Romish." He was so much a gentleman that he
-could not call nicknames, not even in theological controversy.
-</p>
-<p>
-But as his days of study lengthened into weeks, a change came
-over him. The obstacles in his way made him nervous, feverish,
-and, it must be owned, rather ill-tempered. His political
-opposition to Mr. Lewis was expressed with unusual asperity. He
-was very haughty with Miss Hamilton. He entirely absented himself
-from luncheon, and he sometimes dined out, rather than sit beside
-that smiling papist who was doubtless triumphing over him in her
-heart, taking his silence for defeat. He groaned as he heard her
-light step pass his door every morning on her way to early mass.
-That step was his <i>réveil</i>. Should he, the Gospel watchman,
-sleep while the foe was awake and at work?
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why cannot truth inspire as much ardor as error awakens?" he
-wrote one morning. "Why cannot we bring back the old days of
-faith, when God was to man a power, and not a name; when the
-tables of the law were stone to the touch; when he who made
-flood, and fire, and death was more terrible than flood, fire, or
-death? The author of <i>Ecce Homo</i> is right; no virtue is safe
-that is not enthusiastic. A cold religion is a worthless
-religion. O Lord! have mercy on Zion; for it is time to have
-mercy on it."
-</p>
-<p>
-But, angry as he was with her every morning, when Mr. Southard
-met Margaret coming in again from mass, her face smiling, her
-cheeks red from the cold, he could but forgive her. It is hard to
-frown on a bright face, happiness looks so much like goodness.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger took notice of these early walks, Mr. Lewis
-alternately scowled upon and laughed at them. Mrs. Lewis and
-Aurelia exclaimed, How dared she go out alone before light!
-</p>
-<p>
-The wicked people, if there were any, were all asleep, Miss
-Hamilton said, sitting down to breakfast with a most unromantic
-appetite, and a general preponderance of rose-color and sparkle
-in her countenance. At six o'clock on winter mornings no one was
-abroad but papists and policemen. It was the safest hour of the
-twenty-four.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My good angel and I just go about our business, and nobody
-molests us," she said with a spice of mischief; for the mention
-of anything peculiarly Catholic usually had the effect of
-producing a blank silence, and a general elongation of visage.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_444">{444}</a></span>
-<p>
-"But such a magnificent spectacle as I saw this morning! I came
-home round the Common. The sleet-storm of last evening had left
-all the trees crusted with ice to the very tips of their twigs,
-and set an ice-mitre on every individual arrow-head of the iron
-fence. There were the ghosts of all the bishops from Peter down.
-There wasn't any sky, but only a vast crystalline distance. I
-took my stand on the Beacon and Charles street corner. Every
-other person who was so happy as to be out looked also. Then the
-sun came up. Park street steeple caught fire at the ball, and
-flamed all the way down. There was a glimmer on the topmost
-twigs, then the trees all over the Common were in an instant
-transfigured into flashing diamonds. The malls were enough to put
-your eyes out&mdash;nothing but glitter from end to end. It was a
-grand display for the frost-people. The trees will talk about it
-all next summer."
-</p>
-<p>
-The winter slipped away; and Mr. Southard had not fulfilled his
-promise to Miss Hamilton. Neither had he relinquished his
-studies. Shut up with his books hour after hour and day after
-day, in silence and solitude, he scarcely knew how the world
-fared without. For him the war had suddenly dwindled. Through
-long and weary vigils that wore his face thin and his eyes
-hollow, he studied, and thought, and prayed, not the humble
-petition of one who places himself before God, and passively
-awaits an inspiration, but the impassioned and fiery petition of
-one who will not doubt the justice of his cause, and will not be
-denied. Then, leaning from the window to cool his heated eyes and
-head in the fresh early dawning, a peace that was half exhaustion
-would settle upon him. Sleep came pitifully in those hours, and
-pressed on the throbbing brain too much expanded by thought, and
-for a little while soothed the tormented heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-His journal bore traces of the conflict.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I will resist the seduction! This is my time of trial; but I
-will conquer! In the name of God, I will yet confound the doctors
-of the Roman Church. O God! who didst nerve the arm of David
-against Goliath, strengthen thou me!"
-</p>
-<p>
-At every step he was baffled. Catching at what appeared a mere
-theological weed, thinking to fling it out of his way, he found
-it rooted like an oak. Approaching dogmas with the expectation of
-cutting them down like men of straw, he was confronted by mailed
-giants.
-</p>
-<p>
-He found himself among crowds and clouds of Catholic
-saints&mdash;shadows, he called them&mdash;that would fly from his path
-when he should hold up the torch of truth. But, looking in that
-light, he saw steadfast eyes, and shining foreheads, and
-palm-branches that brushed his shrinking, empty hands. And out
-from among them, with a look of gentle humility that smote him
-like a blow, and with a tremulous radiance gathering about her
-pure forehead, came one whom he had frowned upon, and striven to
-discrown. What was she saying? "All nations shall call me
-blessed!" Not great, not glorious, not even lovely, but
-<i>blessed</i>!
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well&mdash;she&mdash;was blessed," admitted the minister.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next moment he started out of his chair, muttered some kind
-of exorcism, caught his hat, and went out for a walk. Though it
-was mid-April, a north wind was blowing thank heaven for that!
-Nothing murky about the north wind.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_445">{445}</a></span>
-It would soon blow away all these pestilential vapors that came
-up from the sun-steeped lowlands of his soul; pagan places where,
-though his iconoclastic will had again and again gone about
-breaking images, no sooner did it rest than there they were
-again, Bacchus, and Hebe, and Diana, and the rest. Or from yet
-more dangerous because more deceptive regions, wide, bright
-solitudes of the soul, arid and dazzling, where the unobstructed
-sky seemed to lean upon the earth&mdash;the region of mirages, of New
-Jerusalems, that shone and crumbled&mdash;of sacred-seeming streams
-that fled from thirsty lips&mdash;of cool shadows that never were
-reached.
-</p>
-<p>
-In one of these impetuous walks, Mr. Southard came across an old
-minister, and went into his study with him, and told him
-something of his difficulties. He was too well aware of his own
-excitement to venture on a full explanation. Moreover, there was
-something soothing and silencing in the look of this man, in his
-tranquil, rather sad expression, his noble face, and snowy hair.
-</p>
-<p>
-The old doctor leaned back in his chair, and calmly listened
-while his younger brother spoke, smiling indulgently now and then
-at some vivid turn of expression, some flash of the eyes, some
-impatient gesture.
-</p>
-<p>
-Elderly ministers were always pleased with Mr. Southard, who
-would ask advice and instruction of them with a docility that was
-almost childlike. Such respect was very pleasant to those who
-seemed to have fallen upon evil days, who saw the prestige of the
-ministry departing, to whom boys had ceased to take off their
-caps, to whom even women did not look up as of yore.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My dear brother," said the doctor gently when the other had
-ceased speaking, "you have made a mistake in attempting this
-work. I tell you frankly, we can never argue down the Catholic
-Church. All the old theologians know that, and avoid the contest.
-For perfect consistency with itself, and for wonderful complexity
-yet harmony of structure, the world has not seen, and will not
-again see its equal. It is the masterwork of the arch-enemy."
-</p>
-<p>
-"So much the more reason why we should attack it with all our
-might!" exclaimed the other.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No," replied the doctor, "That does not follow. There are
-dangers which must be shunned, not met; and this is one. As with
-wine, so with Romanism, 'touch not, taste not, handle not!'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"That might be said to the laity," Mr. Southard persisted. "But
-for us who teach theology, we ought to search, we ought to
-examine. It is essential that we know the weapons of our
-adversary in order to destroy them."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Truth has many phases, and so has belief," was the quiet reply.
-"We begin by believing that the doctrines we hold are the truth,
-the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and that everything
-else is unmitigated falsehood. But after a while, according to
-the degree of candor of which we are capable, we begin to admit
-that every religion on earth has something reasonable to say for
-itself. There is a grain of good in Mohammedanism, in Brahminism,
-in Buddhism. We are now credibly assured that the old story of
-people throwing themselves under the wheels of Juggernaut is a
-myth. Hindu converts say that there were sometimes accidents at
-these religious celebrations, on account of the crowd, as we have
-accidents on the fourth of July; but that Juggernaut was a
-beneficent deity who took no pleasure in human pain, and whose
-attributes were a dim reflection of Christianity.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_446">{446}</a></span>
-I used to tell that story in perfect good faith whenever a
-collection was wanted for the missionaries. I don't tell it now.
-At last we learn to choose what seems to us best, to present its
-advantages to others, but not to insist that all shall agree with
-us under pain of eternal loss. When I hear a man crying out
-violently against the purely religious opinions of others, I
-always set him down as a man of narrow heart and narrower head.
-The principal reason for my well-known hostility to Catholicism
-is a political one.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The fact is, brother, God's light falling on the mind of man, is
-like sunlight falling on a prism. It is no longer the pure white,
-but is shattered into colors which each one catches according to
-his humor. We ministers are not like Moses coming from the
-mountain with the whole law in his two hands, and a dazzling face
-to testify for him that he had been with God, he alone. I wish we
-were, brother! I wish we were!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"But faith," exclaimed the other, "is there no faith?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"We believe in the essentials; and they are few."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How shall we prove them?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"As the Catholic Church proves them. She holds the whole truth
-tangled in the midst of her errors, like a fly in a spider's
-web."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard sat a moment, looking steadily, almost sternly, at
-his companion.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then you and I have no mission," he said. "We are not divinely
-called."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Whithersoever a man goes, there is he called," said the doctor,
-sighing faintly. "We among the rest. We have a mission, too, and
-a noble one. We make people keep the Sabbath, which, without us,
-would fall into disuse; we remind them of their duties; we check
-immorality; we keep before the eyes of worldlings the fact that
-there is another world than this. In short, we spend our breath
-in keeping alive the sacred fire on the desecrated altar of the
-human soul. Is that nothing?"
-</p>
-<p>
-In speaking, the doctor lifted his head, and drew up his stately
-form. His voice trembled with feeling, and his eyes were full of
-indignant tears. His look was proud, almost defiant; yet seemed
-directed less against his companion, than combating some voice in
-his own soul. All the enthusiastic dreams of his youth, though
-they had long since been subdued, as he thought, by common sense
-and necessity, stirred in their graves at sound of the imperious
-questioning, at sight of the clear, searching eyes of this young
-visionary who fancied that in the troubled spirit of man the full
-orb of truth was to be reflected unblurred.
-</p>
-<p>
-"In short," Mr. Southard said, rising to go, "you believe that
-the spirit of evil can propose a problem which the Holy Spirit
-cannot solve."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not so!" was the reply; "but the spirit of evil may propose a
-problem which the Holy Spirit may not choose to solve for us till
-the end of time."
-</p>
-<br>
-                <h3>Chapter IX.
-<br><br>
-              Noblesse Oblige</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-On his way home that day, the minister met Mr. Granger, and the
-two stopped to look at a Vermont regiment that was marching
-through the city from the Maine depot to the New York depot. As
-they stopped, the regiment also was stopped by some obstruction
-in the street.
-</p>
-<p>
-The attention of the gentlemen was presently attracted to a boy
-in the rank nearest them, a bright, resolute-looking lad, with a
-ruddy face and smiling lips.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_447">{447}</a></span>
-But it needed not a very keen observer to see in that smile the
-pathetic bravado of a boy who had just torn himself away from
-home, and was struggling to hide the grief with which his heart
-was swelling.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What is a boy like you in the army for?" Mr. Granger asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-The young soldier looked up, his bright eyes bold with
-excitement. "When men won't go, the boys have got to go," he
-answered. "Do you want to take my place?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger said no more.
-</p>
-<p>
-Beside this boy stood a middle aged man who had an uncommonly
-good face. He was tall, somewhat awkward, and had that look of
-unsophisticated manliness, honest candor, and plain common sense,
-which is found only in the country. One could not fancy him a
-dweller among masked city faces, breathing air pent in narrow
-streets, walking daily on pavements, and knowing no shades but
-those of brick and stone. His place was tramping through wild
-forests, not with any romantic intent, but measuring with
-practised eyes the trunk of some tree in which he saw what
-woodsmen call a "good stick," and chopping steadily at it while
-the chips flew about him, and above him the spreading branches
-shivered at every stroke; or plodding slowly through still
-country roads beside his slow oxen; or, in the sultry summer
-days, swinging the scythe through thick grass and clover, mowing
-them down ankle deep at his feet. He had the flavor of all that
-about him. Now he had to wade through other than that fragrant
-summer sacrifice, to break through other ranks than serried
-clover and Mayweed, and those strong arms of his were to lay low
-something greater than pine or cedar. You could see that this
-thought was in his mind, that he never lost sight of it, but,
-also, that he would not shrink. Such men have not much to say;
-but in time of need they put into action the heroism which others
-exhale in glowing language.
-</p>
-<p>
-This man had been looking straight before him; but at the sound
-of a childish voice he turned his head quickly. A little girl
-leaning from the curbstone was admiring the bunch of flowers on
-the soldier's bayonet, and stretching longing hands toward them.
-</p>
-<p>
-The fixed look in the man's face broke up instantly. "Do you want
-them, little dear?" he asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! yes."
-</p>
-<p>
-He lowered his rifle, removed the flowers, and gave them to the
-child, looking at her with a yearning, homesick smile that was
-more pitiful than tears. At that moment the drums began to beat.
-The soldier laid his bronzed hand on the happy little head, then,
-with trembling lips and downcast eyes, marched on, and out of
-sight for ever.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger turned abruptly away. "I feel as if I were a great
-lazy coward!" he exclaimed. "I can't stand this any longer!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The minister looked at him with a startled expression; but any
-reply was prevented; for just then they met Mrs. Lewis coming out
-of a flower-store, with her hands full of Mayflowers done up in
-solid pink bunches, without a sign of green.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Poor things!" she said. "The sight of them always reminds me of
-the massacre of the Innocents. See! they look like so many pretty
-little pink and white heads cut off. Massed so, without any
-green, they are not at all like flowers. Are we going home to
-dinner? My husband will be late, and we are not to wait for him.
-He has gone to see who is drafted in our ward."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_448">{448}</a></span>
-<p>
-The family had nearly finished dinner when Mr. Lewis came in.
-"Our house is favored," he said immediately. "Granger, both you
-and I are drawn."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger looked up, but said nothing. "I got my substitute on
-the spot," Mr. Lewis continued. "He is a decent fellow whom I can
-depend on. I asked him if he knew of any one for you, and he
-thought he could get somebody."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger made no reply, seemed to be occupied in waiting on
-his little girl who sat beside him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How sober he is!" thought Miss Hamilton; but did not feel
-troubled, his gravity was so gentle.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dora looked up in her father's face, and laughed, half with love,
-half with delight. "You nice papa!" she cried, and gave his arm
-an enthusiastic hug. He laid his hand on those sunny curls, as he
-had seen the soldier do in the street, but did not smile.
-</p>
-<p>
-Glancing at Mr. Southard, Margaret met a look at once anxious and
-searching. His eyes were instantly averted, but his expression
-did not change. What could it mean? After dinner, he went
-directly to his room.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger sat apart in the parlor with Dora, petting her, and
-telling her stories. When her bed-time came, he went out with
-her, and was gone longer than usual. The evening was cool, and
-they had a fire in the grate. Mr. Lewis sat before it reading the
-evening paper, and the three ladies gathered in one corner, and
-talked in whispers.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How sober and strange everything seems this evening!" Margaret
-said, shivering. "I feel cold. It isn't like spring, but like
-fall. Hold my hand, Aura dear. What does chill me so?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is because Mr. Southard looked at you in such an odd way,"
-Aurelia said gravely, holding Margaret's cold hand between her
-warm ones.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know what ails me," Mrs. Lewis said, in a tone of vexation.
-"It is that substitute. My husband will preach poverty for six
-months to come. Charles," raising her voice, "does your
-substitute look as if he had swallowed a new black silk dress
-with little ruffles all over it?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"He has very much that expression of countenance," growled Mr.
-Lewis from behind his newspaper.
-</p>
-<p>
-"O dear! And does he look as if Niagara Falls had disappeared
-down his throat, and as if he were just chewing up a little trip
-to the mountains?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You describe him perfectly," her husband replied with grim
-courtesy.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger came in presently, and stood awhile by one of the
-windows, looking out into the twilight. Then he took a seat by
-the fire.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was getting too dark to read without a light, and Mr. Lewis
-laid his paper aside. "I will see about your substitute
-to-morrow," he said, "and send him up to the bank, if you wish."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank you," Mr. Granger replied. "And as soon as I get a
-substitute, I shall immediately volunteer."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was an exclamation from the ladies, and a sound as if one
-caught her breath.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis stared at the speaker, turned very red, then started
-up, and went out of the room, banging the door behind him. A
-minute later, he flung open the door of Mr. Southard's study, and
-marched in without the least ceremony. "What is the meaning of
-this nonsense of Mr. Granger's volunteering?" he demanded,
-stammering with anger.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard had been sitting with a Bible open before him, and
-his face bowed forward and resting on it. He rose with cold
-stateliness at this abrupt invasion. "Will you sit, sir?" he
-said, pointing to a chair.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_449">{449}</a></span>
-<p>
-"No, sir, I will not!" was the answer. "I want you to go down and
-put a stop to his making a fool of himself. I won't say a word to
-him; I haven't patience to."
-</p>
-<p>
-"If Mr. Granger thinks it his duty to go, I shall not attempt to
-dissuade him," said the minister calmly, reseating himself. "He
-is his own master, and I am in no way responsible for his action
-in the matter."
-</p>
-<p>
-"When a man plants an acorn, we hold him responsible for the
-oak," was the retort. "You have indirectly done all you could to
-make him ashamed of staying at home, and to make him believe that
-the more pieces a man gets cut into the more of a man he is. If
-you don't prevent his going, I shall hold you responsible for
-whatever may happen."
-</p>
-<p>
-For a moment the minister's self-control deserted him, and a just
-perceptible curl touched his lip with scorn. "Can you see no
-nobler destiny for a man," he asked, "than to eat three meals a
-day, make money, and keep a whole skin?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis's face had been red: now his very hands blushed with
-anger. He opened the door to leave the room, and turned on the
-threshold. "Yes, sir, I can!" he replied with emphasis. "But it
-is not in staying at home and sending another man out to die,
-especially when that man may be in your way!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Banging the door behind him, Mr. Lewis ran against his niece who
-was just coming up-stairs. She looked terrified. She had
-overheard her uncle's parting speech.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! how could you!" she exclaimed. "Aunt was afraid that you
-were going to say something to Mr. Southard, and she sent me to
-beg you to come down. How could you, uncle?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I could a good deal easier than I couldn't," he replied. "Come
-into the chamber here and talk to me. I don't want to be left
-alone a minute. I shan't go down-stairs again to-night; and I
-would advise you and your aunt to get out of the way, and give
-Miss Hamilton a chance to talk or cry a little common sense into
-Mr. Granger."
-</p>
-<p>
-Meantime Mr. Granger had been explaining somewhat to the two
-ladies left with him, and exonerating Mr. Southard from all
-responsibility.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know that Mr. Lewis will blame him," he said; "but that is
-unjust to both of us. It is paying me a very poor compliment to
-say that in such a matter I would allow another person to think
-for me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You must remember that my husband's excitement will be in
-proportion to his regard for you," Mrs Lewis said, with tears in
-her eyes. "He has a rough way of showing affection; but he is
-fonder of you than of any other man in the world; and I'm sure we
-all&mdash;" Here her voice failed.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger turned hastily toward her as she got up to go out. "I
-don't forget that," he said. "I know he thinks a good deal of me,
-and so do I of him. We shan't quarrel. Don't be afraid. I found
-out long ago that he has a kind and true heart under that rough
-manner."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I'm going to bring him back," Mrs. Lewis said, and went out,
-wiping her eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger had not dared to look at Miss Hamilton, or address
-her directly. After having spoken, the thought had first occurred
-to him that he should have been less abrupt in announcing his
-intention to her. She might be expected to feel his departure
-more keenly than the others would. He waited a moment to see if
-she would speak. She sat perfectly quiet in the dim light, her
-cheek supported by her hand, her elbow on the arm of her chair,
-and her eyes fixed on the fire.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_450">{450}</a></span>
-There is an involuntary calmness with which we sometime receive
-the most terrible news, and which even an acute observer would
-take for perfect indifference, but which, though not assumed, is
-utterly deceptive. Perhaps it is incredulity; perhaps the sudden
-blow stuns. Whatever it may be, no human self-control can equal
-it. Fortunately, this phenomenon worked now for Miss Hamilton.
-She would scarcely have forgiven herself or Mr. Granger if she
-had lost her self-possession.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Nothing will be changed here," he said presently, slightly
-embarrassed by the continued silence. "All will go on just as it
-has. In case of any uncertainty, when it would take too long to
-hear from me, you can consult Mr. Barton, who is my lawyer. He
-knows all my wishes and intentions. Of course you have full
-authority regarding Dora. I feel quite at ease in leaving her to
-you."
-</p>
-<p>
-So Mr. Barton had known all about it, and so had Mr. Southard,
-and others, perhaps. Miss Hamilton recollected herself with an
-effort. She was in Mr. Granger's employment; he was, in some
-sort, her patron. She had made the mistake of thinking that they
-were friends. But that is not friendship where the confidence is
-all on one side.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I shall try to do my duty by Dora," she said rather coldly. "But
-what does 'full authority' mean?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"She is too young to learn theology," he replied; "but everything
-else is free. I spoke lest some one might interfere during my
-absence, though that isn't likely."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret waited a moment, then said, "Dora tells me that you hear
-her say the Our Father every night and morning. Of course, I
-shall hear it when you are gone. If you are willing, I would like
-to teach her to bless herself before praying, and to say a little
-prayer to the Mother of Christ for your safety. I won't make her
-say 'Mother of God.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger was touched. "That cannot hurt her nor me," he said.
-"Do as you please."
-</p>
-<p>
-Presently he spoke again, "I received yesterday a letter which my
-cousin Sinclair wrote me the day before he was killed. It was
-given to a soldier who was taken prisoner, and is only just
-exchanged. That letter surprised and affected me; and if I had a
-lingering doubt as to my own course, it was dispelled then. He
-was driving to the steamer, it seems, when he met the Seventh
-Regiment marching through Broadway to take the cars south. As
-they marched, they sang 'Glory Hallelujah' with a sound like a
-torrent. He was electrified. There he was on the point of going
-abroad for distraction when here at home was the centre toward
-which the eyes of the whole civilized world were turned. He
-blushed for the slothful ease and aimlessness of his life. Here
-was manly employment. He took no thought for the causes of the
-war, since he was not responsible for them; and circumstances had
-decided which side he was to take. To him it was a great
-gymnasium in which men enervated by wealth, or cramped by petty
-aims, were to wake up their nobler powers, string anew their
-courage, 'ventilate their souls,' as he expressed it, and,
-finding what they were themselves capable of achieving, take back
-thus their faith in others. When he saw those gallant fellows
-march singing off to battle, the dusty, stale old life broke open
-for him, and a new golden age bloomed out. He did not feel that
-they were rejoicing over the shedding of blood, or the winning of
-victories; but they sang their emancipation from littleness, they
-sang because they caught breath of a higher air, they sang
-because they had found out that their souls were greater than
-their bodies.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_451">{451}</a></span>
-Then first it seemed credible to him that the Son of God took
-flesh and died for man; for then he first perceived that man at
-his best is a glorious creature. 'I am happy,' he added. 'It is
-like getting out of a close room into the fresh air. I am going
-through a picture-gallery more magnificent than any in the old
-world, and listening to strains of an epic grander than Homer's.
-I feel as if I were just made new.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-This recital was to Margaret like some reviving essence to a
-fainting person. Her heart, drooping inward on itself, expanded
-again.
-</p>
-<p>
-"If I knew him now!" she said. "If he would-come to me now!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Here is something that will interest you," Mr. Granger added; "I
-will read it from the letter."
-</p>
-<p>
-He lighted the gas and read: "The last time I was in Washington,
-I went to see Lieut. A&mdash;&mdash;, who is laid up in one of the
-hospitals in charge of the Sisters of Charity. Everything was
-quiet and orderly. A. was enthusiastic about the sisters, calls
-them doves of peace and charity, says their bonnets look like
-wings of great white birds. I talked with one of them when I went
-out.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'How can you, who are the children of peace, bear to come among
-us who are the sons of strife?' I asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Where can the children of peace more fitly go than among the
-sons of strife?' she returned.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'But we must seem to you cruel, and unworthy of gentle
-ministrations,' I said. 'You must think that we deserve our
-pains.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"A swift, almost childlike smile just touched her lips, 'We
-cannot be everything,' she replied. 'Each has his place; and the
-judgment-seat belongs to God. I am only the nurse.'
-</p>
-<p>
-"'You must look upon war as the carnival of Satan,' I said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'God permits it,' she replied tranquilly. 'And the thought has
-occurred to me that it may be some times a preparation for
-religion. In the army men learn to suffer, and to sacrifice, and
-to be patient and obedient&mdash;lessons which perhaps they would not
-learn in any humbler school. And having acquired these virtues,
-they may use them in nobler ways, perhaps in preventing war.
-But,' she added hastily, 'it is not for me to explain the designs
-of the Almighty. Here is my mission!'
-</p>
-<p>
-"She bowed, and glided away. A minute later I saw her raising the
-head of a dying soldier, and as his eyes grew dim, repeating for
-him, 'Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!'
-</p>
-<p>
-"As I went away, I said to myself, 'I have seen one wiser than
-Solomon!'"
-</p>
-<p>
-As Mr. Granger finished reading, the door opened, and Mr.
-Southard came in, but stopped on seeing the two alone.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am glad you have, come," Miss Hamilton said quickly, "I want
-you to assure Mr. Granger that, though we shall miss him, and be
-anxious about him, we will not let our weakness stand in the way
-of his strength."
-</p>
-<p>
-No matter if she had been slighted! No matter if the confidence
-had been all on one side!
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will you not bid me also Godspeed?" Mr. Southard asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have asked, and am likely to receive, a year's leave of
-absence from my congregation," he said. "I do not know how it
-will be; but I hope to go in the same regiment with Mr. Granger."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_452">{452}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Well," Margaret sighed as she climbed wearily up-stairs, "I have
-had one happy year. But could I have dreamed that Maurice
-Sinclair would be the one to reprove my weakness at such a
-time?".
-</p>
-
-              <h3>Chapter X.
-<br><br>
-	   A Broken Circle.</h3>
-<p>
-Having made up his mind to go, Mr. Granger lost no time. He who
-had been the most leisurely of men, whose composure and
-deliberateness of manner had often given him the appearance of
-haughtiness, was now possessed by a spirit of ceaseless activity.
-His slow and dignified step became prompt, he spoke more quickly,
-his misty eyes cleared up, and a color glowed in his swarthy
-cheeks.
-</p>
-<p>
-There was no more lounging on a sofa, and reading; no more
-theatre nor concert; no more lingering in picture-galleries, and
-looking about with that fastidious, dissatisfied expression of
-his till his eyes lit sparkling on something that pleased him; no
-more dreaming along, with a cigar in his mouth, under the trees
-at twilight. He was busy, happy, and full of life.
-</p>
-<p>
-It did not take long to complete his arrangements. Like Madame
-Swetchine, he thought those obstacles trifling which were not
-insurmountable.
-</p>
-<p>
-The family found themselves infected by his cheerfulness. Mr.
-Lewis's lugubrious visions of wooden arms and legs, and patches
-over the eye, he swept away with a laugh. The wistful glances,
-often dim with tears, with which the ladies looked at him,
-following his every step, listening to his every word, he chid
-more gently, and also more earnestly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How women can weaken men with a tear or a glance!" he said. "It
-will be hard for me to leave you. I love you all. I have been
-very happy here, and hope to be as happy here again. But I must
-go. I can't see poor men leaving their families, and boys torn
-away from their homes, and not go. I should never again respect
-myself if I staid at home. But there is something else. The
-feeling that draws me is something that I cannot explain. It is
-irresistible. The breeze has caught me, and I must move. Margaret
-has a smile for me, I know. It's in her. She comes of a Spartan
-stock."
-</p>
-<p>
-Could she disappoint his expectation? No. Henceforth, at whatever
-cost to her, he should see no sign of weakness. But, oh! she
-thought, sometimes those who stay at home fight harder battles
-than those who go.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And my little girl," said the father. "She wants me to have
-beautiful gold straps on my shoulders, and splendid large gilt
-buttons on my coat."
-</p>
-<p>
-Dora was enchanted. Soldiers were to her the most magnificent of
-beings. "Yes, papa! And little gold cuffs to your sleeves, and
-stripes on your pantaloons."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Precisely. And a sword, and a belt, and spurs at my heels, and a
-feather in my hat. Papa will be as fine as a play-actor. And in
-order to have all these things, my pet is willing that I should
-go away awhile?"
-</p>
-<p>
-The child said nothing, but looked steadily at her father. The
-smile still lingered on her lips, but large, slow tears were
-filling her eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not for a very great while," he added. "You know we must pay in
-some way for all we get. You pay money for your dresses, and
-study for your education, and for these shoulder-straps of mine
-you must pay by letting me go a little while."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_453">{453}</a></span>
-<p>
-The child struggled hard to keep down the swelling in her throat,
-and dropped her eyes to hide the tears in them.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I guess, papa," she said, nervously twisting his watch-chain as
-she leaned against him, "I guess it's no matter about the
-shoulder-straps. I'd rather have you without' em."
-</p>
-<p>
-He tried to laugh. "And the feather, and the sash, and the sword,
-and the spurs, do you forget them?"
-</p>
-<p>
-She broke down completely at that. "I don't want 'em; I'd rather
-have you than everything else in the world!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Even than stripes on my pantaloons?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"O papa!" she sobbed, "what makes you laugh at me when I'm most
-dead?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Margaret," exclaimed Mr. Granger, "don't let this child miss
-me!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not if I can help it," she replied.
-</p>
-<p>
-He was to do staff duty till the bloom of his ignorance should be
-rubbed off, Mr. Granger said. One whose sole idea of a
-<i>wheel</i> was that it was something round with spokes in it,
-whose only <i>forward</i> had been learned of the dancing-master,
-and who knew no worse <i>charge</i> than the grocer's&mdash;such a
-person could scarcely be expected to lead men in battle array. He
-was going down there to get some of the little boys to teach him
-drill.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was impossible to resist his delightful humor. Even Mr. Lewis
-relented.
-</p>
-<p>
-"If ever the doing of a thing could be forgiven for the sake of
-the manner in which it is done," he said, "then I could forgive
-you. But I can't promise to turn back all at once from
-bonny-clabber to new milk."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! scold away," was the laughing reply. "I begin to think that
-there is a certain pleasure in being abused in a discriminating
-manner."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your going to Fortress Monroe helps to reconcile me," Mr. Lewis
-continued. "It's a pleasant place, and a strong place. My wife
-calls it Fortissimo. I supposed that you would insist on going
-straight to the front to do picket-duty, or post yourself in a
-tree as a sharpshooter. I'm glad to see that you've got a little
-ballast left aboard. I wish that Mr. Southard were to be with
-you, instead of going to New Orleans at this time of year. I
-spent a year at New Orleans when I was a young man, and I know
-all about it. It isn't a city, it's a deposit. You have to hold
-on with hands and feet to keep from being melted away by the
-heat, or washed away by the water."
-</p>
-<p>
-"O the oleanders!" sighed Mrs. Lewis in an ecstasy.
-</p>
-<p>
-Almost before they knew, Mr. Granger was gone. They had heard his
-last pleasant word, met his last smile, and seen the carriage
-that bore him away disappear down the street. Both Mr. Southard
-and Mr. Lewis accompanied him as far as New York.
-</p>
-<p>
-When they had seen him off, the three ladies returned to the
-parlor, and the servants went sorrowfully back to their places.
-The neighbors who waved him away left their windows, and the
-friends grouped on the steps and the walk went each his way.
-</p>
-<p>
-Dora, repulsed by Miss Hamilton, went to Aurelia for comfort.
-Margaret walked uneasily about the room, putting books in their
-places, pushing intrusive vine-leaves out the windows, arranging
-and rearranging the curtains. Then she seated her self by a
-table, and began cutting the leaves of a new magazine.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_454">{454}</a></span>
-<p>
-Presently Mrs. Lewis approached her, and after leaning on the arm
-of her chair a moment without being noticed, touched her on the
-shoulder.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Margaret," she said, "why will you be so terribly proud? I think
-you might be willing to shed tears when Aurelia and I do. Why
-shouldn't you grieve over the absence of your friend? He is a
-kind and true friend to you."
-</p>
-<p>
-Aurelia rose quietly, and led Dora from the room.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret persisted a moment longer in her silence and her
-leaf-cutting. But the book and the knife shook in her hand, and
-presently dropped from her grasp. Turning impulsively, she hid
-her face in that kind bosom, and sobbed without control.
-</p>
-<p>
-"He will soon come back, I am sure of it," Mrs. Lewis said
-soothingly. "And you know we shall hear from him constantly. We
-all feel bad. Mr. Lewis choked up whenever he thought of it, and
-the only way he had of turning off his emotion was in scolding. I
-dare say his last word to Mr. Granger will be an abusive one. And
-you are almost as bad."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I can't bear to be misunderstood, and watched, and commented
-on," Margaret said, trying to control herself. "Most people seem
-to think hate more respectable than affection, and if they see
-that you care about a person, they sneer."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know all about it, dear," Mrs. Lewis said. "You can't tell me
-anything new about meanness and malice. I have suffered too much
-from them in my life. But we are friends, real friends, here. We
-respect each other's reserve. But too much reserve is not good
-nor wholesome."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret looked up, and wiped her tears away. "How you help me!"
-she said. "I don't feel very bad now," with a faint smile. "It is
-suppression that kills me. If we could say just what we think and
-feel, and act with perfect openness, how good it would be!
-Looking back, my life seems to me a cemetery of stifled emotions.
-My heart is full of their bones and ashes. It's an awful weight!
-You are very good, Mrs. Lewis. You do beautiful things sometimes.
-I grow fonder of you every day. By and by," smiling again, "I
-shall not be able to do without you. And now, that poor child! I
-must go to her. Wasn't I cruel to put her away? But it is very
-hard to have to comfort others when you are yourself in need of
-comfort."
-</p>
-<p>
-The next day the two gentlemen came home with the last news of
-Mr. Granger, and they spent the evening more cheerfully than they
-could have expected. Mr. Lewis had apologized for his rudeness to
-the minister, and had begun to perceive that Mr. Southard had, as
-he said, some grit in him. So they were all harmonious enough.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mr. Granger's generosity of disposition would lead him to danger
-unnecessarily, if he were not warned," Mr. Southard said, as they
-sat together that evening. "I talked to him very plainly about
-it. There is sometimes an unconscious selfishness under those
-impulses. Exulting in the sense of their own fearlessness, men
-put themselves in peril, without thinking what others may suffer
-in their loss, and that the real good to be attained does not,
-perhaps, counterbalance the evil done. All that is accomplished
-is a generous deed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is something to accomplish a generous deed," said Miss
-Hamilton. "I own, I have not the highest admiration for that
-'rascally virtue' of discretion."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But when the real cost of that 'sublime indiscretion' falls on
-some other than the hero, then I object to it," said the minister
-firmly. "And Mr. Granger agreed with me."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_455">{455}</a></span>
-<p>
-There are times when to hear those dear to us praised is painful.
-It oppresses the heart, by placing the beloved object too far
-above us. But a gentle blame, which hints at no serious fault,
-while it does not wound our feelings, soothes our sense of
-unworthiness, and, without lowering the friend, brings him within
-our reach. Listening to such gentle censure, we get a comfortable
-human feeling toward one whom we were, perhaps, in danger of
-apotheosizing.
-</p>
-<p>
-Speaking of the much that they would hear from these soldier
-friends of theirs, both Margaret and Mr. Southard urged Mrs.
-Lewis to resume her long unused pen. It seemed that every one who
-had the talent to do it ought to preserve thus some of the many
-incidents of the war. But she was resolute in refusal.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Of writing many books there is no end," she said. "And I have a
-terrible vision of a coming deluge of war-literature. Everybody
-will write, soldiers, nurses, chaplains, (all but you, Mr.
-Southard!) philanthropists, novelists, rhymsters&mdash;all will write
-without mercy. The dilemma of the old rhyme will seem to be on
-the point of realization:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  'If all the earth were paper,
-      And all the sea were ink,
-   And all the trees were bread and cheese,
-      What should we do for drink?'
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-"No, don't ask me to join in that rout. Besides, no one but a
-scribbler knows a scribbler's afflictions. No 'Heavenly Goddess'
-has yet sung those direful woes. First, there is the printer. You
-spend all your powers on a certain passage which is to
-immortalize you, and under his hands, by the addition, or the
-abstraction, or the changing of a word, that passage has taken
-the one step more which carries it from the sublime to the
-ridiculous. Put in a fine bit of color; he changes your umber to
-amber, and the picture is spoilt. Refer to the well-known fact
-that Washington Allston put a great deal of character into the
-hands and feet he painted, and this fell patriot drops the
-Allston, and gives the credit to the father of his country. Then
-there are your dear friends. They know all your virtues, so their
-sole effort is now to find out your defects. It won't do to
-praise you, lest you should become vain; so, with a noble regard
-for your truest good, they dissect your writings before your
-eyes, and prove clearly their utter worthlessness. Then, there
-are your gushing acquaintances who want you to write about them,
-and tell you their histories, insisting that they shall be put
-into print. As if you should carry cherry-stones to a
-cherry-tree, and say, Here, grow cherries round these! If you
-should answer ever so humbly, Thank you! but I grow stones to my
-own cherries, such as they are, people would be disgusted. Of
-course, if I had a great genius, it would scorch up all these
-little annoyances. But I have only a pretty talent. Perhaps the
-worst is, that they will apply your characters. When I was a
-girl, I wrote a rhymed story, and everybody pointed out the hero.
-I stared, I bethought myself, I re-read my romance. Imagine my
-horror when I found that the description fitted the man
-perfectly, even to the wart on his nose. Then, not long ago, I
-wrote a little idyl addressed to my first love, and my husband
-came home with the face of an Othello. You know you did, Charles.
-The fact was, I never had a first love!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis laughed. "And she twitted me with Diana. Diana was a
-tall, superb, serene woman whom I got acquainted with in
-Washington, before I was married. I admired her excessively. I
-didn't know that she was a goose. I would talk, and she would
-listen, and smile at all my jokes; and I thought that she was
-very witty.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_456">{456}</a></span>
-I spoke of books, and she smiled and said 'Yes!' and I was sure
-that she was a well-read person. I ranted about music, and she
-smiled and said 'Yes!' and I was positive that she was a fine
-musician. Presently I began to grow bashful in the society of
-such a superior woman. I couldn't talk, so she had to. Well, at
-first I admired her simplicity, then I stared at her simplicity.
-And at last I saw that there was
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  'No end to all she didn't know.'
-</p>
-<p>
-"One day I'd been there, up in the parlor, and when I left, she
-went down to the door with me. There was a large hat on the
-entry-table, and we heard a man's voice in the sitting-room.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Who's talking with pa?' she asked of a servant.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Daniel Webster, miss,' was the answer.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Daniel Webster was my hero. If our hats had been of the same
-size, I would have swapped fervently, though mine was new, and
-Daniel's a little shabby. I remembered what somebody had said of
-Samuel Johnson; and pointing to the table, I exclaimed with
-enthusiasm, 'That hat covers a kingdom!'
-</p>
-<p>
-"Diana looked at it with a mild, idiotic perplexity, and
-stretched her long neck to see on the other side. 'Hat covers a
-kingdom,' she repeated vaguely to herself, as if it were a
-conundrum.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'When it's on his head!' I cried out in a rage.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Oh!' she said, and smiled, but without a particle of
-speculation in her eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I bounced out of the house, and I never went to see Diana again.
-Shortly after, I met that little woman, and I married her because
-she is smart."
-</p>
-
-              <h3>Chapter XI.
-<br><br>
-    The Mountains Whence Help Cometh.</h3>
-
-<p>
-Mr. Granger was one of those persons whom we miss more than we
-expect to, their influence is so quiet, their stability has so
-little of hardness. As has been beautifully said, such characters
-are "like the water-lily, fixed yet floating." We do not know how
-much we rest on them till the support is withdrawn.
-</p>
-<p>
-They heard from him constantly, the letters being directed to Mr.
-Lewis, but intended for all the family.
-</p>
-<p>
-Evidently his good spirits had not deserted him. Never before had
-he been so much alive, he wrote. The excitement, the uncertainty,
-the very restraints which reminded of power, and of great
-interests at stake, all kept his thoughts in a brisk circulation,
-and threw the bile off his mind.
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Dora had, however, her separate correspondence, letters
-directed to herself, which Miss Hamilton read to her, and
-answered from her dictation.
-</p>
-<p>
-In those days the child learned a new prayer: "O Mother in
-heaven, take pity on me who have no mother on earth, and whose
-father has gone to the wars. Watch over him, that I may not be
-left an orphan. Pray for him, and for me, and for whoever loves
-us best. Do not forget me, O Mother! for if you do, my heart will
-break."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who is it that loves us best?" the child asked the first time
-she said this prayer.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not know," was the reply. "We can never be sure who loves
-us best. But God knows, and the good Mother can find out."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I thought it was you," said Dora. Margaret's voice sank to a
-whisper. "Perhaps it is, dear."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_457">{457}</a></span>
-<p>
-In a few weeks Mr. Southard also left then, not cheerfully, but
-with a gloom which he took no pains to conceal.
-</p>
-<p>
-And the few weeks grew to many weeks, and months multiplied. The
-summer was gone, and the autumn was gone, and winter melted like
-a snow-flake on the mantle of time. When our eyes are fixed in
-anxious longing on some future day, the intermediate days slip
-through our fingers like sands through an hour-glass, and keep no
-trace of their passage.
-</p>
-<p>
-If, when the spring campaign opened, and both the absent ones
-were in active service, our friends watched with some sinking of
-the heart for news, it was no more than happened in tens of
-thousands of other homes. Heart-sickness was by no means a rare
-disease in those days.
-</p>
-<p>
-The soldier in charge of the soldier's news-room on Kneeland
-street became very much interested in one of the few visitors who
-used to go there that summer. Nearly every say, surely every day
-when there had been a battle, a pale-faced young lady would open
-the door, enter quickly, and without looking to right or left go
-directly to the frames that held the lists of killed and wounded,
-and read them through from end to end. The soldier got to have an
-anxious feeling about this lady. Unnoticed by her, he watched her
-face while she read, and hushed his breath till he saw that
-terrible look go out of her eyes. The lists finished, she would
-pull her veil down, sigh wearily, and go out as quietly as she
-had entered.
-</p>
-<p>
-"When she finds the name she is looking for, I hall see her
-drop," he thought.
-</p>
-<p>
-But Margaret did not drop, though often enough she was in danger
-of it, as her eyes fell on some blurred name, or some name very
-like the one she dreaded to see.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was too wearing. Both flesh and spirit were sinking under this
-constant strain. Where was the help that religion was to give
-her? Leave everything to God, trust all to him, she was told. But
-how? Her thoughts were clenched in these interests; and, in spite
-of faith, it seemed as though, if she should let go her hold,
-they would fall. She found that her religion was only of the
-surface. It had grown in the sunshine, and was not rooted against
-the storm. She tried to put into practice the precepts she
-listened to, but the daily distractions of life constantly
-neutralized her efforts. There was but one way, and for the first
-time Margaret made a retreat.
-</p>
-<p>
-The place selected was a convent a little out of the city.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here in this secluded asylum was all that her soul needed for its
-restoring; quiet, leisure, the society of those whose lives are
-devoted to God, and, to crown all, the presence of the blessed
-sacrament of the altar.
-</p>
-<p>
-One feels very near heaven when one hears only praying voices,
-sees only happy, peaceful faces, is looked upon only by kind
-eyes, and can at any hour go before the altar, alone, undisturbed
-by those distractions which constantly environ our ordinary
-worship. How still we become! In that presence how our little
-troubles and sorrows exhale, as mists lift from the rivers at
-sunrise, and leave all clear and bright! How cramped and feverish
-all our past life has been! Everything settles into its true
-place. Sorrow and death lose their sting. We are safe, for we
-partake of the omnipotence of God. To think that the same roof
-that shelters our heads when we lie down to sleep shelters also
-the sacred head of the Son of God&mdash;that drives every other
-thought from the mind.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_458">{458}</a></span>
-It is marvellous, it seems incredible, and yet the wonder of it
-is lost in the sweetness. The moonlight coming in at the window
-lies white and silent on the bare white floor. You rise to kiss
-that luminous spot, for just beneath is the altar. Peace rises to
-exultation, for you perceive more and more that the Father holds
-us all in his hands, those near and those afar, and that we have
-but to lift our eyes, and we shall behold the mountains whence
-help cometh. We want to run out and tell everybody. It seems as
-if we have just discovered all this, and that no one ever knew it
-before. We forget that we are sinners. It isn't much matter about
-us any way. We will think of that afterward. We will make acts of
-contrition when we get away from here. Now we can make only acts
-of adoration and of joy.
-</p>
-<p>
-The superior of the convent directed Margaret's retreat, and on
-the last morning of it she and all the nuns received communion,
-and there was the benediction after mass.
-</p>
-<p>
-The others had gone out, but Margaret still lingered before the
-altar. Out in the early sunshine, the trees rustled softly, and
-the breeze waved the curtains of the chapel windows.
-Occasionally, one of the nuns would come to the door, look in,
-and go away again smiling, though Miss Hamilton's breakfast was
-spoiling over the fire, and there was a gentleman waiting in the
-parlor for her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"She is in the chapel at her devotions," the sister had told him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Don't disturb her on any account," he had answered. "There is no
-haste."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret was not praying, was not thinking; her soul was silent,
-lost in God, like a star in the day.
-</p>
-<p>
-Presently she came out, and, meeting one of the nuns in the hall,
-embraced her tenderly. "Sister," she said, "this is the most
-beautiful world that ever was made."
-</p>
-<p>
-The gentleman had been waiting some time when he heard a step,
-and in the door there stood a slight, black-robed lady with a
-veil thrown over her head, a bright face, and a smell of incense
-lingering about her. She lifted both hands when she saw him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My cup runneth over!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are not a nun?" asked Mr. Granger.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You're not an apparition," she returned. "Oh! welcome!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"And now," he said, delighted to see her so happy, "if you are
-ready, we will go home. I have only a few days' furlough, and I
-want to make the most of it."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret went to take a hasty leave of the nuns, and also to step
-into the chapel for one moment.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then she went out from under that happy portal, and down the
-steps to the carriage that was waiting for them. One of the
-sisters stood in the door looking after her, and others here and
-there in the grounds looked up with a pleasant word of farewell
-as she passed. She stooped to gather from the lower terrace a
-humble souvenir, two or three grass-blades and a clover-leaf,
-then stepped into the carriage. As they drove slowly down the
-avenue, she looked up into the overhanging branches and repeated:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "'Above him the boughs of the hemlock trees
-    Waved, and made the sign of the cross,
-    And whispered their Benedicitis.'"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The family were in raptures over Mr. Granger's return. They could
-not look at him enough, listen to him enough, do enough for him.
-"And how nice you look in your uniform!" said Margaret, feeling
-as if she were about six years old.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And how nice you look in anything!" he retorted, at which they
-all laughed. It took but little to make them laugh in those days.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_459">{459}</a></span>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger, on his part, was as merry as a boy. He was full of
-adventures to tell them, glad to be at home, happy in their
-confidence and affection, and hopeful of the future.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret could scarcely believe her own happiness. She would turn
-away, shut her eyes, and think, "I have imagined it all. He is
-hundreds of miles away, I do not know whether he is sick or well.
-He may be in peril. He may be dead. O my friend! come home, come
-home! Are we never to see you again?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Then, when she had succeeded in tormenting herself sufficiently,
-when her heart was sinking, and her eyes overflowing with tears,
-she would turn quickly, trembling between dream and reality, and
-see him there alive and well, and at home.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! there he is, thank God!"
-</p>
-<p>
-And so every day she renewed in her vivid imagination the pain of
-his absence and the delight of his return, till too soon the day
-came when she no longer dared to play such tricks with herself,
-for he was again gone out of their sight. But the lessons of the
-retreat were not forgotten, and every morning brought
-refreshment.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-               To Be Continued.
-</p>
-<hr>
-                <h2>Sauntering</h2>.
-<p class="center">
-  Saunterer, (from <i>saint terre</i>,)<br>
-  a pilgrim to holy lands or places.&mdash;<i>Thoreau</i>.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Would that I were, if not like the king of Ava&mdash;lord of the
-twenty-four umbrellas&mdash;at least the owner of one, was my thought.
-I was in Paris, that paradise of many good Americans who are
-<i>not</i> defunct. Three thousand and odd miles from home, in
-the streets of a strange city, with an imperfect knowledge of any
-foreign tongue, not daring to say <i>parapluie</i> to the most
-obsequious shopman, and the rain was pouring down like a douche.
-</p>
-<p>
-I had no devotion to St. Swithin&mdash;not a particle. I respected him
-in a vague way as a successor of the apostles, whose name is in
-the calendar; but I was always inclined to mention him with a
-smile on account of his hydropathic propensities. I am a perfect
-Oriental as far as a warm bath is concerned, but I never could
-endure the gentlest shower-bath, and the thought of St. Swithin,
-in his wet grave under a waterspout, always made me shudder. This
-peculiar sensitiveness always made me suspicious of the lightest
-summer cloudlet, and led me to make for years a series of minute
-observations on the weather, till I became deeply versed in
-mackerel clouds, mare's tails, and such sinister prognostics. I
-used to imagine myself so sensitive to the dryness and moisture
-of the atmosphere, and to its density and rarity, that I was
-quite above barometers. I was a barometer to myself. A
-foreknowledge of the weather was my strong point, or one of my
-strong points, when at home in the new world. There I had a full
-view of the heavens that bend over us all, down to the very
-horizon on every side. The rarity of the American atmosphere, its
-lofty heavens, with its luminous spheres, are full of skyey
-influences, which tell not only upon the very plants, if we
-observe them, but upon ourselves, if we heed the silent lesson.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_460">{460}</a></span>
-I always knew what those clouds meant, gathering over the far-off
-north-wood hills at the west, and I felt the very mist as it
-began to rise around Mount Agamenticus, in the east, like
-sacrificial clouds around that altar of the renowned St.
-Aspinquid. I seldom made a false prediction, and was consequently
-approached with considerable deference by provident neighbors,
-especially before a storm. But somehow, I lost this prestige as
-soon as my foot was off my native heath. Here, in a compact city,
-with the tall houses and narrow streets shutting the great blue
-eye of heaven till it became a mere line, like a cat's eye at
-mid-day, I felt myself utterly at the mercy of nature; I gave
-myself humbly up to St. Swithin, to whom of old I was rather
-defiant. A haughty spirit goes before a fall. Humiliations are
-good for the soul. I think I must consider mine a case of special
-providence; for there is nothing more soothing to mortified
-vanity or spiritual pride, or even in dire calamity, than the
-conviction that ours is an instance of special providence.
-</p>
-<p>
-On one of those doubtful days in October, when the air is murky
-and a light mist from the Seine pervades every part of the city,
-but which were not always, as I had found, indicative of rain, I
-sallied forth from the Hotel Meurice to wander around the French
-capital with no special object in view. I discarded my
-guide-book, tired of being the victim of square and compass. To
-be told to admire, whether an object appealed to my peculiar
-tastes or not, was quite opposed to my notions of American
-independence, and sure to rouse a certain spirit of contradiction
-in me&mdash;a bad trait, I fear, but a fault acknowledged is half
-cured; so I make a clean breast of it to test the truth of the
-old saying. I turned, therefore, a blind eye to all the palaces,
-and gardens, and fountains, and went around feasting my eyes on
-the forbidden vanities of the world which my god-parents had
-renounced for me at baptism, but which were glittering
-delightfully in the booths of this Vanity Fair; not that I cared
-much for them, to tell the truth, but from a sheer feeling of
-perversity. There must be some powerful charm in them, or they
-would not be put down in every religious chart as quicksands to
-be avoided. Perhaps I was in danger of being stranded among them,
-and it was, after all, a case of special providence, when, as I
-was pursuing my way, or rather any way in my ignorance of the
-city, and moralizing on these things, or demoralizing, of a
-sudden it began to pour. For an old weather-wise like me to be
-thus caught, was very humiliating; and in my consternation, I
-found myself enjoying one of the high and mighty prerogatives of
-the king of Ava, as aforesaid. <i>Que faire?</i> I should have
-said, being in France. Looking around, I saw the open door of a
-church, in which I gladly took refuge. In benighted, "popish"
-lands, mother church often affords a place of bodily refuge, as
-well as moral. It was the church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, to
-which I had wandered back, and which from this time became my
-favorite church in spite of the bad repute of the bells. Passing
-from the gay streets into these cool shades is like passing for a
-moment, as it were, from time into eternity. All light and
-frivolous thoughts&mdash;all vanity and littleness die away with the
-noise of the world, at the very entrance. The mind is elevated.
-We partake of the grandeur of the edifice, and, for a few moments
-at least, our nature is ennobled.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_461">{461}</a></span>
-Only great and lofty ideas should wander beneath such arches.
-Only souls full of noble and magnificent ideas could have
-designed them. There are truly sermons in these stones, of which
-one never grows weary&mdash;sermons in the grand old <i>vitraux</i>,
-rich with saintly forms, and in the gloom, inspiring sweet and
-solemn reverie.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "I love the gloom; I love the white-robed throng;
-   I love the flood of most religious song
-   That tosses all its choric waves afar
-   To seek and search each quaint-carved crevice there.
-   The music surges to each singing star,
-   And bears the soul to heaven's own upper air,
-   Sweet crushed to happy tears; but chiefly where
-   Peace, dove-like, broods above clasped hands of prayer."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The Catholic is no longer in a foreign land when he enters a
-church. The altar, the cross, the Madonna, above all, the
-tabernacle, with it twinkling lamp of olive oil, are his old
-familiar friends, and all there, and his heart is at home. He
-feels a bond of universal brotherhood with all these worshippers
-before the altar. And then the dear old Latin service! I never
-thoroughly realized at home the advantage of a universal language
-in which the whole church could lift up her voice, as with one
-accord, throughout the world. That language&mdash;one of those which
-were consecrated above the head of the dying Saviour&mdash;is
-associated with all the holiest and tenderest memories of a
-Catholic. He cannot remember when he first heard it from the lips
-of holy mother church. It is one of his mother tongues. Each word
-has a new significance in this foreign land, and the whole
-service a new meaning. I have heard people exclaim at the
-rapidity of the opening service of mass, not knowing its
-significance. Every act and word in our sublime ritual has its
-meaning to him that enters into its spirit. Dr. Newman says, in
-his own beautiful way:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I declare nothing is so consoling, so piercing, so thrilling,
-  so overcoming, as the mass, said as it is among us. I could
-  attend masses for ever and not be tired. It is not a mere form
-  of words; it is a great action, the greatest action there can
-  be on earth. It is not the invocation, merely, but, if I dare
-  use the word, the evocation, of the Eternal. He becomes present
-  on the altar in flesh and blood, before whom angels bow and
-  devils tremble. This is that awful event which is the end and
-  is the interpretation of every part of the solemnity. Words are
-  necessary, not as means, but as ends. They are not mere
-  addresses to the throne of grace; they are instruments of what
-  is far higher, of consecration, of sacrifice. They hurry on as
-  if impatient to fulfil their mission. Quickly they go; the
-  whole is quick, for they are all parts of one integral action.
-  Quickly they go, for they are awful words of sacrifice; they
-  are a work too great to delay upon, as when it was said in the
-  beginning, 'What thou doest, do quickly.' Quickly they pass,
-  for the Lord Jesus goes with them, as he passed along the lake
-  in the days of his flesh, quickly calling first one and then
-  another. Quickly they pass, because, as the lightning which
-  shineth from one part of the heaven unto the other so is the
-  coming of the Son of Man. Quickly they pass, for they are as
-  the words of Moses, when the Lord came down in a cloud, calling
-  on the name of the Lord as he passed by,  'The Lord, the Lord
-  God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering and abundant in
-  goodness and truth.'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "And as Moses on the mountain, so do we too 'make haste and bow
-  our heads to the earth and adore.' So we all around, each in
-  his place, look out for the great advent, 'waiting for the
-  moving of the water.' Each in his place, with his own heart,
-  with his own wants, with his own thoughts, with his own
-  intention, with his own prayers, separate but concordant,
-  watching what is going on, watching its progress, uniting in
-  its consummation; not painfully and hopelessly following a hard
-  form of prayer from beginning to end, but, like a concert of
-  musical instruments, each different, but concurring in a sweet
-  harmony, we take our part with God's priest,
-  supporting him, yet guided by him."
-</p>
-<p>
-The words being, then, only used as means, as instruments of
-consecration, it is not at all necessary for the people to follow
-the words of the priest; but, entering into the spirit and
-meaning of each part of the sacrifice, abandon themselves each
-one to his own devotions.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_462">{462}</a></span>
-While the church is exceedingly
-particular about the exact following of the liturgy by the
-clergy, it allows the greatest latitude to the devotions of
-laymen. All the sects that have a form of prayer, or extempore
-prayers, afford far less liberty to those who join therein than
-the church. Their service is nothing to you unless you join in
-its forms, which leave no liberty of soul. Whereas at mass, while
-some use a prayer-book with a variety of beautiful and touching
-devotions in harmony with the service going on at the altar,
-others simply say the rosary, and others again use no form
-whatever, but, following the celebrant in spirit, abandon their
-hearts in holy meditation and mental prayer according to the
-inspiration of the moment. Thus our holy services never become a
-mere form. They are always new, new and varied as our daily
-wants, as our fresh conceptions of what worship is due Almighty
-God, and of the nature of the holy oblation in which we are
-participating.
-</p>
-<p>
-The church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois was once the frequent
-recipient of royal munificence, being for a long time the royal
-parish, and it was the most sumptuously adorned in Paris.
-Sculptors and painters vied in filling it with the choicest works
-of art. It was not much injured at the revolution, but narrowly
-escaped destruction in 1831. The anniversary of the death of the
-Duc de Berri was to be commemorated by services for the repose of
-his soul; but a mob surrounded the church, and destroyed
-everything in it. It was afterward closed till 1838, when it was
-reopened for public worship.
-</p>
-<p>
-It has some poetical associations as well as historical; for here
-M. de Lamartine is said to have hung up the long locks that
-Graziella had shorn from her beautiful head, and sent to be
-suspended in one of the churches of his belle France. And perhaps
-this was the one to which he referred in the following words:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "When the last hour of the day has sounded from thy lofty
-  towers, when the last beam has faded away from the dome, when
-  the sigh of the distant organ dies away with the light, and the
-  nave is deserted by all but the Levite attentive to the lamps
-  of the holy place, then I come to glide under thy obscure
-  arches, and to seek, while nature sleeps, Him who never
-  slumbers! The air which the soul breathes in thy aisles is full
-  of mystery and peace. Let love and anxious cares seek shade and
-  solitude under the green shelter of groves to soothe their
-  secret wounds. O darkness of the sanctuary! the eye of religion
-  prefers thee to the wood which the breeze disturbs. Nothing
-  disturbs thy foliage. Thy still shade is the image of eternal
-  peace."
-</p>
-<p>
-I loved to think the poet found here the source of the
-inspirations which are embodied in his <i>Harmonies
-Religieuses</i> which are the delight of every tender and
-religious soul.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is in one of the transepts a beautiful font of pure white
-marble, executed by M. Jouffroy from a model by Madame de
-Lamartine and presented by her to this church. The basin is
-surmounted by three expressive figures, Faith, Hope, and Charity,
-supporting a cross.
-</p>
-<p>
-This church with its perfumed air, its subdued light, and its
-quiet recesses incentive to piety, so charmed me by its contrast
-with the gay world without, and revived all the fervor of early
-religious impressions, that I did not leave it till I had
-resolved to commence each remaining day of my stay at Paris, by
-going to a different church till I had visited them all, like
-Horace Walpole. And should I even visit them like him as a mere
-amateur of art, I could not fail to receive some inspiration that
-would leave me better for the rest of the day.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_463">{463}</a></span>
-The hours thus passed in the churches seemed to consecrate the
-day, and left a perfume in my heart that nothing in the world
-could wholly dissipate. They became the happiest and most
-profitable of my life, both morally and intellectually.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "For thou dost soothe the heart, thou Church of Rome,
-      By thy unwearied watch, and varied round
-   Of service, in thy Saviour's holy home.
-      I cannot walk the city's sultry streets,
-      But the wide porch invites to still retreats,
-   Where passion's thirst is calmed, and care's unthankful gloom."
-
-   "There, on a foreign shore,
-      The homesick solitary finds a friend:
-    Thoughts, prisoned long for lack of speech, outpour
-      Their tears, and doubts in resignation end."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-One morning I went to St. Merri's, where St. Edmund, Archbishop
-of Canterbury, when a young student at Paris, used to go to
-assist at the midnight office. A friend had given me his
-practical little book entitled <i>The Mirror of the Church,
-</i>and I took it with me to read in a place he had loved. In
-reading it I was struck by what he says of the Lord's Prayer, the
-great prayer of the middle ages, and the prominence he would have
-us give it in our devotions. He says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The Pater Noster surpasses all other prayers in excellence,
-  dignity, and utility. It was made by God himself; hence the
-  injury done to Jesus Christ the Son of God when curious or
-  rhymed prayers are preferred to that composed by him who knows
-  the will of the Father, and better than we what prayer is most
-  acceptable to him, and what we most need. How many deceive
-  themselves in multiplying the forms of prayer! They think they
-  are devout, but they are only carnal in their affections, for
-  every carnally-minded person naturally delights in the vain
-  curiosity of words. Be then prudent and discreet in this
-  respect. I know you will bring forward St. Augustin, St.
-  Gregory, and other saints to oppose me, who prayed according to
-  the affections of their hearts. I am certainly far from blaming
-  them. I only blame the practice of those who, from a spirit of
-  pride or curiosity abandon the prayer made by the Lord himself
-  for those which the saints have composed. Our Lord himself
-  says, And when you are praying, speak not much as the heathen
-  do, for they think they are heard for their much speaking. You
-  therefore shall pray in this manner, Our Father, etc."
-</p>
-<p>
-We Catholics are often accused of elevating the creature above
-the Creator, and reproached for saying ten Hail Marys to one Our
-Father in the beautiful devotion of the Rosary, as if we had no
-other. This extract from St. Edmund does not support the
-accusation, and he was a prelate of the dark ages&mdash;the thirteenth
-century. But then he was an Englishman, and we all know the
-Anglo-Saxon race did not fall in Adam, and only a little way in
-Peter!
-</p>
-<p>
-In justice to St. Edmund I will add that he was so devout to Our
-Lady that, early in life, he consecrated himself to her, and
-wore, in memory of this consecration, a ring with Ave Maria upon
-it. He related this on his death-bed, that his example might be
-followed by others, and was buried with the ring on his finger.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is an interesting chapel in St. Merri's Church, dedicated
-to St. Mary of Egypt, which is beautifully frescoed by
-Chasserian, depicting the touching old legend, with its deep
-moral significance, of
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "That Egyptian penitent whose tears
-   Fretted the rock, and moistened round her cave
-   The thirsty desert."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The poet tells of a miraculous drop which fell in Egypt on St.
-John's day, and was supposed to have the effect of stopping the
-plague. Such a drop fell on the soul of this renowned penitent.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "There's a drop, says the Peri, that down from the moon
-   Falls through the withering airs of June
-   Upon Egypt's land, of so healing a power,
-   So balmy a virtue, that even in the hour
-   That drop descends, contagion dies,
-   And health reanimates earth and skies!
-   Oh! is it not thus, thou man of sin,
-     The precious tears of repentance fall.
-   Though foul the fiery plagues within,
-     One heavenly drop hath dispelled them all!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_464">{464}</a></span>
-<p>
-St. Mary of Egypt is one of a long line of penitents who, after
-the example of Magdalen, have given proofs of their repentance in
-proportion to their sins and to the depth of their sorrow, and
-thus rendered the very scars on their souls so many rays of
-light.
-</p>
-<p>
-Le Brun painted one whose frailties are "linked to fame" as
-Magdalen, and at her own request. The universal interest felt in
-her story, and the sympathy it always excites, induced me to
-visit a place that cannot be disconnected from her memory&mdash;the
-chapel of the Carmelites in the Rue d'Enfer, where she took the
-veil. I refer to Madame de la Vallière, whom Madame de Sevigné
-calls "la petite violette qui se cachait sous l'herbe."
-</p>
-<p>
-A priest was just commencing mass when I entered the chapel. I
-knelt down by the tomb of the Cardinal de Bérulle, who used to
-come here to pray in the chapel of St. Magdalen, having a great
-devotion to that saint. It was difficult to resist the
-distractions that were inevitable in such a spot, but in which I
-would not indulge till the holy sacrifice was over. The choir of
-nuns was separated from the chancel by a grating which was
-closely curtained. There is always a certain charm in everything
-that savors of mystery. Whatever is hidden excites our curiosity
-and interest. That forbidding grate, that curtain of appalling
-blackness, were tantalizing. They concealed a world in which we
-had no part. Behind them were hearts which had aims and
-aspirations and holy ambitions, perhaps, we know not of. They led
-a life which is almost inexplicable to the world&mdash;hidden indeed
-in God. The chapel was so still, save the murmur of the
-officiating priest, that you might have supposed no one else
-there. But after the Agnus Dei, came out from that mysterious
-recess a murmur from unseen lips like a voice from another world.
-It was that of the nuns all saying the Confiteor together before
-going to holy communion. That murmur of <i>mea culpâ, mea
-culpâ</i>, seemed like the voice of penitence from La Sainte
-Beaume, or the voice of past times repeating the accents of the
-repentant La Vallière. There she lived and prayed and did penance
-for thirty-six years, longer than Magdalen in her cave, "son
-coeur ne respirant que du côté du ciel," thus displaying a
-remarkable strength of volition, and therefore of character; for
-"What is character but a perfectly formed will?" says Novalis.
-Before that altar she used to come two hours before the rest of
-the community to pray, and in cold weather she, that had been
-brought up in luxury, was often found senseless on the pavement
-of the choir when the rest of the nuns came to the chapel.
-</p>
-<p>
-We read that the tears of Eve falling into the water brought
-forth pearls, and we cannot doubt that the tears through which
-our penitent viewed her past life helped obtain for her the pearl
-of great price. One instance of her austerity is well known. One
-Good-Friday, meditating in the refectory, during the meagre
-repast of the day, on the vinegar and gall given to the dying
-Saviour when he was athirst, she recalled the pleasures of her
-past life and particularly of the time when, returning with the
-court from the chase, being thirsty, she drank with pleasure of
-some delicious beverage which was brought her. This
-immortification, so in contrast with the vinegar and gall of the
-Saviour, filled her with lively sentiments of repentance and
-humiliation, and she resolved never to drink again.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_465">{465}</a></span>
-For three weeks she did not taste even a drop of water, and for
-three years she only drank half a glass day. This severe penance,
-which was unsuspected, brought on a fit of illness and caused
-violent spasms in the stomach, which reduced her to a state of
-great feebleness. Besides that, she suffered greatly from
-rheumatism, but she never ceased to share in the labors in the
-community. She died in 1710, aged nearly sixty-six years, having
-passed thirty-six years in the convent. Her life here was one
-long Miserere which was surely heard in heaven. Her soul had to
-pass through the deep waters; but she took fast hold of that
-"last plank after shipwreck"&mdash;repentance. Everything went to feed
-the stream of her sorrow. Every new grace gave her a new
-conception of the guilt of sin and awoke new regrets for lost
-glory. So she shut herself up in the garden of myrrh. She
-sheltered herself in the <i>creux du rocher</i> from the waves of
-memory that swept over her soul. In that dark night of her soul
-she looked tremblingly out over the wide sea of her sorrows with
-a heart like the double-faced Janus, looking into the past and
-toward the future, memory and hope struggling in her heart. Over
-that dark sea rose the moonlight of Mary's face&mdash;our Lady of
-Mount Carmel&mdash;a narrow crescent at first, but growing larger and
-brighter every day. And the great luminous starry saints with
-their different degrees of glory studded the heavens that opened
-to her view. And so the morning came when the voice of Jesus
-spoke: Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is an accent of sincerity, with no savor of cant, in the
-well-known reply of Soeur Louise de la Misericorde when asked if
-she was happy in the convent: "I am not happy, but I am
-satisfied." How few in the world can even say with sincerity that
-they are satisfied. Dr. Johnson said, "No one is happy," but
-satisfaction is certainly reasonable happiness. Carlyle says,
-"There is in man a higher than love of happiness. He can do
-without happiness, and instead thereof find blessedness." That
-happiness alone is real which does not depend on contingencies.
-It is reasonably satisfied with the present, and has a constantly
-increasing hope in the future. Such was the happiness Madame de
-la Vallière found among the pale-eyed votaries of the cloister, a
-satisfaction of the soul which became perfect happiness when
-death came to her after so many years of dying.
-</p>
-<p>
-I wonder if there was no perfume left in the dried rose leaves in
-her heart causing it to faint ofttimes by the way. A person of so
-much sensibility must have had a wonderful capacity for
-suffering. That her memory was ever alive to the past is evident
-from the unrelenting austerity of her life, from her well-known
-reply when informed of the death of her son, and from her
-requesting Le Brun to paint her as Magdalen.
-</p>
-<p>
-Remembering so many proofs of her conversion, we, too, say,
-Neither do I condemn thee. No stone will I cast on thy grave; no
-reproach on thy memory: for repentance effaced every earthly
-stain, and thou art now sharing the joy there is in heaven over
-one sinner that repenteth. Tears of penitent love mingled with
-those of virgin innocence at the foot of the cross. Let them
-still mingle there; we will not regard them with distrust or
-disdain. We too have need to cry:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Drop, drop, slow tears
-     I And bathe those beauteous feet.
-   Which brought from heaven
-     The news and Prince of peace.
-   Cease not, wet eyes,
-     For mercy to entreat:
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_466">{466}</a></span>
-   To cry for vengeance
-     Sin doth never cease.
-   In your deep floods
-     Drown all my faults and fears:
-   Nor let his eye
-     See sin but through my tears."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Every one who looks deeply into his own heart finds a motive of
-charity for the faults of others. A monk of Cluny hung up in his
-cell the picture of a famous debauchee under which he placed his
-own name. The surprised abbot asked the reason. It was to remind
-him what grace alone prevented him from becoming. We are all
-miracles of grace. It may be restraining or transforming. We are
-not the less in need of it than those who have apparently sunk to
-lower depths.
-</p>
-<p>
-All these things passed through my mind while lingering in the
-chapel of the Carmelites. In that chapel had resounded the grand
-tones of the great Bossuet at the profession of Madame de la
-Vallière, with his usual refrain&mdash;the emptiness of all earthly
-things. "Away, earthly honors!" he said on that occasion, "all
-your splendor but ill conceals our weaknesses and our faults;
-conceals them from ourselves, but reveals them to
-others."&mdash;"There are two kinds of love," he added, "one is the
-love of ourselves, which leads to the contempt of God&mdash;that is
-the old life, the life of the world. The other is the love of
-God, which leads to the contempt of ourselves, and is the new
-life of Christianity, which, carried to perfection, constitutes
-the religious life. The soul, detached from the body by
-mortification, freed from the captivity of the senses, sees
-itself as it is&mdash;the source of all evil. It therefore turns then
-against itself. Having fallen through an ill use of liberty, it
-would be restrained on every side, by frightful grates, a
-profound solitude, an impenetrable cloister, perfect obedience, a
-rule for every action, a motive for every step, and a hundred
-observant eyes. Thus hemmed in on all sides, the soul can only
-fly heavenward. <i>Elle ne peut plus respirer que du côté du
-ciel</i>"&mdash;a beautiful expression, recalling the lines from an
-old manuscript poem in the <i>Bibliothèque Royal:</i>
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Li cuers doit estre
-   Semblans à l'encensoir
-   Tous clos envers la terre
-   Et overs vers le ciel."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The heart should be like a censer, closed toward earth and open
-toward heaven; and such is the heart of the real spouse of
-Christ.
-</p>
-<p>
-When Bossuet had finished his discourse and the black veil was
-placed upon the head of La Vallière, the whole audience wept
-aloud. The Duchess de la Vallière was now Louise de la
-Miséricorde, vowed to the rigorous life of the Carmelites, to
-fasts and vigils, to sackcloth and ashes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Philosophers say no motion is ever lost, and that every act is
-photographed somewhere in the universe. Think of swelling the
-choral song that will go on vibrating in the air for ever; of
-sighs of penitence that go on sighing through space for ever in
-the ears of a merciful God; of attitudes of adoring praise and
-love, which are somewhere imaged, to be revealed at the last day
-as a page in the great book that will decide our eternal fate.
-How much better to be thus perpetuated than idle words, vain
-songs, and all the graces of fashion only intended to please the
-eye of a fellow-mortal.
-</p>
-<p>
-After all, there is something in such a life that appeals to the
-instincts of our nature. Even those who condemn it cannot but
-admire. At least, they find it poetical. Who does not feel an
-increased sentiment of respect for Dr. Johnson as he stands with
-bared head, in the rain, where his father's book-stall was, in
-the market place at Uttoxeter, to expiate an act of early
-disobedience to his father?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_467">{467}</a></span>
-"The picture of Samuel Johnson," says Carlyle, "standing
-bare-headed in the market-place is one of the grandest and
-saddest we can paint. The memory of old Michael Johnson rising
-from the far distance, sad, beckoning in the moonlight of memory.
-Repentance! repentance! he proclaims as with passionate sobs&mdash;but
-only to the ear of heaven, if heaven will give him audience."
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "O heavy laden soul! kneel down and hear
-      Thy penance in calm fear;
-   With thine own lips to sentence all thy sin;
-      Then, by the judge within
-   Absolved, in thankful sacrifice to part
-      For ever with thy sullen heart!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<br>
-      <h2>The Physical Basis Of Life.</h2>
-	  <p class="center_close">
-      [Footnote 128]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-      [Footnote 128: <i>New Theory of Life</i>. Identity of the
-      Powers and Faculties of all Living Matter. A Lecture by
-      Professor T. H. Huxley. <i>New York World</i>, Feb. 18th,
-      1869.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-We know this rather remarkable discourse only as republished in
-the columns of <i>The New York World</i>, where it had a
-sensational title which we have abridged. Professor Huxley's name
-stands high among English physicists or scientists, and his
-discourse indicates considerable natural ability, and familiarity
-with the modern school of science which seeks the explanation of
-the universe and its phenomena without recognizing a creator, or
-any existence but ordinary matter and its various combinations.
-The immediate purpose of the professor is to prove the physical
-or material basis of life, and that life in all organisms is
-identical, originating in and depending on what he calls the
-protoplasm.
-</p>
-<p>
-The protoplasm is formed of ordinary matter; say, carbon,
-hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen. These elements combined in some
-unknown way give rise to protoplasm; the protoplasm gives rise to
-the plant, and, through the plant, to the animal; and hence all
-life, feeling, thought, and reason originate in the peculiar
-combination of the molecules of ordinary, inorganic matter. The
-plant differs from the animal, and the animal from man, only in
-the different combinations of the molecules of the protoplasm. We
-see nothing in this theory that is new, or not as old as the
-physics of the ancient Ionian school.
-</p>
-<p>
-The only novelty that can be pretended is the assumption that all
-matter, even inorganic, is, in a certain sense, plastic, and
-therefore, in a rudimentary way, living. The same law governs the
-inorganic and the organic world. But even this is not new. Many
-years ago, Ralph Waldo Emerson asserted the identity of
-gravitation and purity of heart, and we ourselves are by no means
-disposed to deny that there is more or less analogy between the
-formation of the crystal or the diamond and the growth of the
-plant. It is not, perhaps, too much to say that the law of
-creation is one law, and we have never yet been convinced of the
-existence of absolutely inert matter. Whatever exists is, in its
-order and degree, a <i>vis activa</i>, or an active force.
-Matter, as the <i>potentia nuda</i> of the schoolmen, is simple
-possibility, and no real existence at all.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_468">{468}</a></span>
-There is and can be no pure passivity in nature, or purely
-passive existences. We would not therefore deny a certain
-rudimentary plasticity to minerals, or what is called brute
-matter, though we are not prepared to accept the plastic soul,
-asserted by Plato, and revived and explained in the posthumous
-and unfinished works of Gioberti under the term <i>methexis</i>,
-which is copied or imitated by the <i>mimesis</i>, or the
-individual and the sensible. Yet since, as the professor tells
-us, the animal can take the protoplasm only as prepared by the
-plant, must there not be in inorganic matter a preparation or
-elaboration of the protoplasm for the use of the plant?
-</p>
-<p>
-The professor speaks of the difficulty of determining the line of
-demarcation between the animal and the plant; but is it difficult
-to draw the line between the mineral and the plant, or between
-the plant and the inorganic matter from which it assimilates its
-food or nourishment? Pope sings,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "See through this air, this ocean, and this earth,<br>
-   All matter <i>quick</i>, and bursting into birth;"
-</p>
-<p>
-but we would like to have the professor explain how ordinary
-matter, even if <i>quick</i>, becomes protoplasm, and how the
-protoplasm becomes the origin and basis of the life of the plant.
-Every plant is an organism with its central life within. Virchow
-and Cl. Bernard by their late discoveries have proved that every
-organism proceeds from an organite, ovule, or central cell, which
-produces, directs, and controls or governs the whole organism,
-even in its abnormal developments. They have also proved that
-this ovule or central cell exists only as generated by a
-pre-existing organism, or parent, of the same kind. The later
-physiologists are agreed that there is no well authenticated
-instance of spontaneous generation. Now this organite must exist,
-live, before it can avail itself of the protoplasm formed of
-ordinary matter, which is exterior to it, not within it, and
-cannot be its life, for that moves from within outward, from the
-centre to the circumference. Concede, then, all the facts the
-professor alleges, they only go to prove that the organism
-already living sustains its life by assimilating fitting elements
-from ordinary matter. But they do not show at all that it derives
-its life from them; or that the so-called protoplasm is the
-origin, source, basis, or matter of organic life; or that it
-generates, produces, or gives rise to the organite or central
-cell; nor that it has anything to do with vitalizing it. Hence
-the professor fails to throw any light on the origin, matter, or
-basis of life itself.
-</p>
-<p>
-It may or it may not be difficult in the lower organisms to draw
-the line between the plant and the animal, and we shall urge no
-objections to what the professor says on that point; we will only
-say here that the animal organism, like the vegetable, is
-produced, directed, and controlled by the central cell, and that
-this cell or ovule is generated by animal parents. There is no
-spontaneous generation, and no well authenticated instance of
-metagenesis. Like generates like, and even Darwin's doctrine of
-natural selection confirms rather than denies it. It is certain
-that the vegetable organism has never, as far as science goes,
-generated an animal organism. Arguments based on our ignorance
-prove nothing. The protoplasm can no more produce or vitalize the
-central animal than it can the central vegetable cell, and,
-indeed, still less; for the animal cannot, as the professor
-himself asserts, sustain its life by the protoplastic elements
-till they have been prepared by the vegetable organism.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_469">{469}</a></span>
-Whence, then, the animal germ, organite, or ovule? What vitalizes
-it and gives it the power of assimilating the protoplasm as its
-food, without which the organism dies and disappears?
-</p>
-<p>
-Giving the professor the fullest credit for exact science in all
-his statements, he does not, as far as we can see, prove his
-protoplasm is the physical basis of life, or that there is for
-life any physical basis at all. He only proves that matter is so
-far plastic as to afford sustenance to a generated organic life,
-which every farmer who has ever manured a field of corn or grass,
-or reared a flock of sheep or a herd of cattle, knows, and always
-has known, as well as the illustrious professor.
-</p>
-<p>
-We can find a clear statement of several of the conditions of
-life, both vegetable and animal, but no demonstration of the
-principle of life, in the professor's very elaborate discourse.
-Indeed, if we examine it closely, we shall find that he does not
-even pretend to demonstrate anything of the sort. He denies all
-means of science except sensible experience, and maintains with
-Hume that we have no sensible experience of causes or principles,
-all science, he asserts, is restricted to empirical facts with
-their law, which, in his system, is itself only a fact or a
-classification of facts. The conditions of life, as we observe
-them, are for him the essential principle of life in the only
-sense in which the word <i>principle</i> has, or can have, for
-him, an intelligible meaning. He proves, then, the physical basis
-of life, by denying that it has any intelligible basis at all. He
-proves, indeed, that the protoplasm, which he shows, or endeavors
-to show, is universal&mdash;one and the same, always and everywhere
-&mdash;is present in the already existing life of both the plant and
-the animal; but that, whatever it be, in the plant or animal,
-which gives it the power to take up the protoplasm and assimilate
-it to its own organism, which is properly the life or vital
-power, he does not explain, account for, or even recognize. With
-him, power is an empty word. He nowhere proves that life is
-produced, furnished, or generated by the protoplasm, or has a
-material origin. Hence, the protoplasm, by his own showing, is
-simply no protoplasm at all. He proves, if anything, that in
-inorganic matter there are elements which the living plant or
-animal assimilates, and into which, when dead, it is resolved.
-This is all he does, and in fact, all he professes to do.
-</p>
-<p>
-The professor makes light of the very grave objection, that
-chemical analysis can throw no light on the principle or basis of
-life, because it is or can be made only on the dead subject. He
-of course concedes that chemical analysis is not made on the
-living subject; but this, he contends, amounts to nothing. We
-think it amounts to a great deal. The very thing sought, to wit,
-life, is wanting in the dead subject, and of course cannot by any
-possible analysis be detected in it. If all that constituted the
-living subject is present in the dead body, why is the body dead,
-or why has it ceased to perform its vital functions? The
-protoplasm, or what you so call, is as present in the corpse as
-in the living organism. If it is the basis of life, why is the
-organism no longer living? The fact is, that life, while it
-continues, resists chemical action and death, by a higher and
-subtler chemistry of its own, and it is only the dead body that
-falls under the action of the ordinary chemical laws. There is,
-then, no concluding the principle or basis of life from any
-possible dissection of the dead body.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_470">{470}</a></span>
-<p>
-The professor's answer to the objection is far from being
-satisfactory.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Objectors of this class," he says, "do not seem to reflect &hellip;
-  that we know nothing about the composition of any body as it
-  is. The statement that a crystal of calcspar consists of
-  carbonate of lime is quite true, if we only mean that, by
-  appropriate processes, it may be resolved into carbonic acid
-  and quicklime. If you pass the same carbonic acid over the very
-  quicklime thus obtained, you will obtain carbonate of lime
-  again; but it will not be calc-spar, nor anything like it. Can
-  it therefore be said that chemical analysis teaches nothing
-  about the chemical composition of calc-spar? Such a statement
-  would be absurd; but it is hardly more so than the talk one
-  occasionally hears about the uselessness of applying the
-  results of chemical analysis to the living bodies which have
-  yielded them. One fact, at any rate, is out of reach of such
-  refinements and this is, that all the forms of protoplasm which
-  have yet been examined contain the four elements, carbon,
-  hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, in very complex union, and that
-  they behave similarly toward several reagents. To this complex
-  combination, the nature of which has never been determined with
-  exactness, the name of protein has been applied. And if we use
-  this term with such caution as may properly arise out of
-  comparative ignorance of the things for which it stands, it may
-  be truly said that all protoplasm is proteinaceous; or, as the
-  white, or albumen, of an egg is one of the commonest examples
-  of a nearly pure proteine matter, we may say that all living
-  matter is more or less albuminoid. Perhaps it would not yet be
-  safe to say that all forms of protoplasm are affected by the
-  direct action of electric shocks; and yet the number of cases
-  in, which the contraction of protoplasm is shown to be effected
-  by this agency increases every day. Nor can it be affirmed with
-  perfect confidence that all forms of protoplasm are liable to
-  undergo that peculiar coagulation at a temperature of 40
-  degrees&mdash;50 degrees centigrade, which has been called
-  "heat-stiffening," though Kuhne's beautiful researches have
-  proved this occurrence to take place in so many and such
-  diverse living beings, that it is hardly rash to expect that
-  the law holds good for all."
-</p>
-<p>
-This long extract proves admirably how long, how learnedly, how
-scientifically, a great man can talk without saying anything. All
-that is here said amounts only to this: the conclusions obtained
-by the analysis of the dead body cannot be denied to be
-applicable to the living body, because we know nothing of the
-composition of any body organic or inorganic, as it is. Therefore
-all life has a physical basis! Take the whole extract, and all it
-tells you is, that we know nothing of the subject it professes to
-treat. "All the forms of protoplasm, which have yet been examined
-contain the four elements, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen
-in very complex union." When chemically resolved into these four
-elements, is it protoplasm still? Can you by a chemical process
-reconvert them into protoplasm? No. Then what does the analysis
-show of the nature of your physical basis of life? "To this
-complex union, the nature of which <i>has never yet been
-determined</i>, the name of protein has been applied." Very
-important to know that. Yet this name protein names not something
-known, but something the nature of which is unknown. What then
-does it tell us? "If we use this term [protein] with such caution
-as may properly arise out of our comparative <i>ignorance</i> of
-the things for which it stands, it may truly be said that all
-protoplasm is proteinaceous." Be it so, what advance in
-knowledge, since we are ignorant of what protein is? It is
-wonderful what a magnificent structure our scientists are able to
-erect on ignorance as the foundation.
-</p>
-<p>
-The professor, after having confessed his ignorance of what the
-alleged protoplasm really is, continues:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Enough has, perhaps, been said to prove the existence of a
-  general uniformity in the character of the protoplasm, or
-  physical basis of life, in whatever group of living beings it
-  may be studied. But it will be understood that this general
-  uniformity by no means excludes any amount of special
-  modifications of the fundamental substance. The mineral,
-  carbonate of lime, assumes an immense diversity of characters,
-  though
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_471">{471}</a></span>
-  no one doubts that under all these protean changes it is one
-  and the same thing. And now, what is the ultimate fate, and
-  what the origin, of the matter of life? Is it, as some of the
-  older naturalists supposed, diffused throughout the universe in
-  molecules, which are indestructible and unchangeable in
-  themselves; but, in endless transmigration, unite in
-  innumerable permutations, into the diversified forms of life we
-  know? Or is the matter of life composed of ordinary matter,
-  differing from it only in the manner in which its atoms are
-  aggregated. Is it built up of ordinary matter, and again
-  resolved into ordinary matter when its work is done? Modern
-  science does not hesitate a moment between these alternatives.
-  Physiology writes over the portals of life,
-</p>
-<p class="cite2">
-    'Debemur morti nos nostraque,'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  with a profounder meaning than the Roman poet attached to that
-  melancholy line. Under whatever disguise it takes refuge,
-  whether fungus or oak, worm or man, the living protoplasm not
-  only ultimately dies and is resolved into its mineral and
-  lifeless constituents, but is always dying, and, strange as the
-  paradox may sound, could not live unless it died."
-</p>
-<p>
-Suppose all this to be precisely as asserted, it only proves that
-there is diffused through the whole material world elements which
-in certain unknown and inexplicable combinations, afford
-sustenance to plants, and through plants to animals, or from
-which the living organism repairs its waste and sustains its
-life. It does not tell us how carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and
-nitrogen are or must be combined to form the alleged protoplasm,
-whence is the living organism, nor the origin or principle of its
-life. It, in fact, shows us neither the origin nor the matter of
-life, for it is only an actually living organism that uses or
-assimilates the alleged protoplasm. There is evidently at work in
-the organism a vital force that is distinguishable from the
-irritability or contractility of the protoplasm, and not derived
-from or originated by it. Undoubtedly, every organism that falls
-under our observation, whether vegetable or animal, has its
-physical conditions, and lives by virtue of a physical law; but
-this, even when we have determined the law and ascertained the
-conditions, throws no light on the life itself. The life escapes
-all observation, and science is impotent, if it leaves out the
-creative act of God, to explain it, or to bring us a step nearer
-its secret. Professor Huxley tells us no more, with all his
-science and hard words, than any cultivator of the soil, any
-shepherd or herdsman, can tell us, and knows as well as he, as we
-have already said.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the last extract, the professor evidently prefers, of the two
-alternatives he suggests, the one that asserts that "the matter
-of life [protoplasm] is composed of ordinary matter, is built up
-of ordinary matter, and resolved again into ordinary matter when
-its work is done." This the professor applies to man as well as
-to plants and animals. Hence, he cites the Roman poet,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Debemur morti nos nostraque."
-</p>
-<p>
-But we have conceded the professor more than he asks. We have
-conceded that all matter is, in a certain sense, plastic, and
-living, in the sense of being active, not passive. But the
-professor does not ask so much. We inferred from some things in
-the beginning of his discourse that he intended to maintain that
-his protoplasm is itself elemental, and pervading all nature. But
-this is not the case; he merely holds it to be a chemical
-compound formed by the peculiar chemical combination of lifeless
-components. Thus he says:
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_472">{472}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "But it will be observed that the existence of the matter of
-  life depends on the pre-existence of certain compounds, namely,
-  carbonic acid, water, and ammonia. Withdraw any one of these
-  three from the world, and all vital phenomena come to an end.
-  They are related to the protoplasm of the plant, as the
-  protoplasm of the plant is to that of the animal. Carbon,
-  hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen are all lifeless bodies. Of
-  these, carbon and oxygen unite in certain proportions and under
-  certain conditions, to give rise to carbonic acid; hydrogen and
-  oxygen produce water; nitrogen and hydrogen give rise to
-  ammonia. These new compounds, like the elementary bodies of
-  which they are composed, are lifeless. But when they are
-  brought together, under certain conditions they give rise to
-  the still more complex body, protoplasm, and this protoplasm
-  exhibits the phenomena of life. I see no break in this series
-  of steps in my secular complication, and I am unable to
-  understand why the language which is applicable to any one term
-  of the series may not be used to any of the others."
-</p>
-<p>
-But here is a break or a bold leap from a lifeless to a living
-compound. No matter how different are the several chemical
-compounds known from the simple components, the new compound is
-always, as far as known, as lifeless as were the several
-components themselves. Hydrogen and oxygen compounded give rise
-to water, but water is lifeless. Hydrogen and nitrogen, brought
-together in certain proportions, give rise to ammonia, still a
-lifeless compound. No chemist has yet, by any combination of the
-minerals, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, the
-constituents of protoplasm, been able to produce a living plant
-or a living organism of any sort. How then conclude that their
-combination produces the matter of life, or gives rise to the
-living organism? There seems to us to be a great gulf between the
-premises and the conclusion. Certain combinations of carbon,
-hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen produce certain lifeless compounds
-different from themselves, <i>therefore</i> a certain other
-combination of these same elements produces the living organism,
-plant, or animal, or originates the matter, and forms the
-physical basis of life. If the professor had in his school days
-reasoned in this way, his logic-master, we suspect, would have
-set a black mark against his name, or, more likely, have rapped
-him over the knuckles, if not over his head, and told him that an
-argument that has no middle term, is no argument at all, and that
-"Transitio a genere ad genus," as from the lifeless to the
-living, is a sophism.
-</p>
-<p>
-The professor is misled by his supposing that what is true of the
-dead body must be true of the living. Because chemical analysis
-resolves the dead body into certain lifeless elements, he
-concludes that the living body is, while living, only a compound
-of these same lifeless elements. That is, from what is true of
-death, he concludes what must be true of life. But for this
-fallacy, he could never have fallen into the other fallacy of
-concluding life is only the result of a certain aggregate or
-amalgam of lifeless minerals. Our scientists are seldom good
-logicians, and we have rarely found them able, when leaving
-traditional science, to draw even a logical induction from the
-facts before them. This is wherefore they receive so little
-respect from philosophers and theologians, who are always ready
-to accept their facts, but, for the most part, unable to accept
-their inductions. The professor has given us some valuable facts,
-though very well known before; but his logical ineptness is the
-best argument he has as yet offered in support of his favorite
-theory that man is only a monkey developed.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the extract next before the last, the professor revives an old
-doctrine long since abandoned, that life is generated from
-corruption. "Under whatever disguise it takes refuge, whether
-fungus or oak, worm or man, the living protoplasm not only
-ultimately dies and is resolved into its mineral and lifeless
-constituents, but is <i>always dying, and, strange as the paradox
-may sound, could not live unless it died.</i>"
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_473">{473}</a></span>
-We know that some physiologists regard the waste of the body,
-which in life is constantly going on, and which is repaired by
-the food we take, as incipient death; but this is only because
-they confound the particles or molecules of matter of which the
-body is externally built up, and which change many times during
-an ordinary life, with the body itself, and suppose the life of
-the body is simply the resultant of the aggregation of these
-innumerable molecules or particles. But the life of the organism,
-we have seen, is within it, and its action from the centre, and
-it is only its life, not its death, that throws off or exudes as
-well as assimilates the material particles. The exudation as well
-as the assimilation is interrupted by death. Why the protoplasm
-could not live unless it died is what we do not understand.
-</p>
-<p>
-The professor, of course, not only denies the immortality of the
-soul, but the existence of soul itself. There is for him no soul
-but the protoplasm formed of ordinary matter. All this we
-understand very well. We understand, too, that on his theory the
-protoplasm assimilated by the organism to repair its waste,
-renews literally, not figuratively, the life of the organism. But
-how he extracts life from death, and concludes that the
-protoplasm must die, as the condition of living, passeth our
-comprehension. We suppose, however, the professor found it
-necessary to assert it in order to be able to reason from the
-dead subject to the living. If the protoplasm were not dead, he
-could not by chemical analysis determine its constituents; and if
-the death of the protoplasm were not essential to its life, he
-could not conclude the constituents of the living protoplasm from
-what he finds to be the constituents of the dead protoplasm. But
-this does not help him. In the first place, the waste of the
-living organism is not death nor dying, though death may result
-from it. And the supply of protoplasm in the shape of food does
-not originate new life, nor replenish a life that is gone, but
-supplies what is needed to sustain and invigorate a life that is
-already life. In the second place, the vital force is not built
-up by protoplastic accretions, but operates from within the
-organism, from the organite or central cell, without which there
-could be no accretions or secretions. The food does not give
-life; it only ministers sustenance to an organism already living.
-No chemical analysis of the food can disclose or throw any light
-on the origin, nature, or constitution of the organic life
-itself.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is this fact that prevents us from having much confidence in
-chemical physiology, which is still insisted on by our most
-eminent physiologists. In every organism there is something that
-transcends the reach of chemical analysis, and which no chemical
-synthesis can reproduce. Take the professor's protoplasm itself.
-He resolves it into the minerals, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and
-nitrogen: but no chemist can by any possible recombination of
-them reproduce protoplasm. How then can one say that these
-minerals are its sole constituents, or that there are not other
-elements entering it which escape all chemical tests and, indeed,
-are not subject to chemical laws? Chemistry is limited, and
-cannot penetrate the essence of the material substance any more
-than the eye can. It never does and never can go beyond the
-sensible properties of matter. Life has its own laws, and every
-physiologist knows that he meets in the living organism phenomena
-or facts which it is impossible to reduce to any of the laws
-which are obtainable from the analysis of inorganic or lifeless
-matter.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_474">{474}</a></span>
-It is necessary then to conclude that there is in the living
-organism present and active some element which, though using
-lifeless matter, cannot be derived from it, or explained by
-physical laws, be they mechanical, chemical, or electrical. The
-law of life is a law <i>sui generis</i>, and not resolvable into
-any other. We must even go beyond the physical laws themselves,
-if we would find their principle.
-</p>
-<p>
-As far as human science goes, there is, where the nucleus of life
-is wanting, no conversion of lifeless matter into living matter.
-The attempt to prove that living organisms, plants, animals, or
-man are developed from inorganic and lifeless matter, though made
-as long ago as Leucippus and Democritus, systematized by
-Epicurus, sung in rich Latin verse by Lucretius, and defended by
-the ablest of modern British physico-philosophers, Mr. Herbert
-Spencer, in his <i>Biology</i>, has by the sane part of the human
-race in all times and everywhere been held to be foolish and
-absurd. It has no scientific basis, is supported by no known
-facts, and is simply an unfounded, at least, an unsupported
-hypothesis. Life to the scientist is an insolvable mystery. We
-know no explanation of this mystery or of anything else in the
-universe, unless we accept the creative act of God; for the
-origin and cause of nature are not in nature herself. We have no
-other explanation of the origin of living organisms or of the
-matter of life. God created plants, animals, and man, created
-them living organisms, male and female created he them, and thus
-gave them the power to propagate and multiply each its own kind,
-by natural generation. The scientist will of course smile
-superciliously at this old solution, insisted on by priests and
-accepted by the vulgar; but though not a scientist, we know
-enough of science to say from even a scientific point of view
-that there is no alternative: either this or no solution at all.
-The ablest men of ancient or modern times, when they reject it,
-only fall into endless sophisms and self-contradictions.
-</p>
-<p>
-Professor Huxley admits none but material existences, concedes
-that the terms of his proposition are unquestionably
-materialistic, and yet denies that he is individually a
-materialist.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It may seem a small thing to admit that the dull vital actions
-  of a fungus, or a foraminifer, are the properties of their
-  protoplasm, and are the direct results of the nature of the
-  matter of which they are composed. But if, as I have endeavored
-  to prove to you, their protoplasm is essentially identical
-  with, and most readily converted into, that of any animal, I
-  can discover no logical halting place between the admission
-  that such is the case, and the further concession that all
-  vital action may, with equal propriety, be said to be the
-  result of the molecular forces of the protoplasm which displays
-  it. And if so, it must be true, in the same sense and to the
-  same extent, that the thoughts to which I am now giving
-  utterance, and your thoughts regarding them, are the expression
-  of molecular changes in the matter of life which is the source
-  of other vital phenomena. Past experience leads me to be
-  tolerably certain that, when the propositions I have just
-  placed before you are accessible to public comment and
-  criticism, they will be condemned by many zealous persons, and
-  perhaps by some of the wise and thoughtful. I should not wonder
-  if 'gross and brutal materialism' were the mildest phrase
-  applied to them in certain quarters. And most undoubtedly the
-  terms of the propositions are distinctly materialistic.
-  Nevertheless, two things are certain: the one, that I hold the
-  statement to be substantially true; the other, that I,
-  individually, am no materialist, but on the contrary believe
-  materialism to involve grave philosophical error."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_475">{475}</a></span>
-<p>
-If what he has been from the first endeavoring to prove, and here
-distinctly asserts, is not materialism and consequently by his
-own confession, "a grave philosophical error," we know not what
-would be. "This union of materialistic terminology with the
-repudiation of the materialistic philosophy," he says, further
-on, "I share with some of the most thoughtful men with whom I am
-acquainted." His terminology is, then, better fitted to conceal
-his thought than to express it. He may repudiate this or that
-materialistic system; he may repudiate all philosophy, which he,
-of course does, yet not his terminology only, but his thought, as
-far as thought he has, is materialistic. Nothing can be more
-materialistic than the conception of life, sense, sentiment,
-affection, thought, reasoning, all the sensible, intellectual,
-and moral phenomena we are conscious of, as the product of the
-peculiar arrangement or combination of the molecules of the
-protoplasm, itself resolvable into the minerals, carbon,
-hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen.
-</p>
-<p>
-The scientific professor defends himself from materialism, by
-asserting that both materialism and spiritualism lie without the
-limits of human science, and by denying the necessity of a
-substance, whether spirit or matter, to underlie and sustain&mdash;we
-should say, produce&mdash;the phenomena, and the necessary relation of
-cause and effect, or that we do or can know things under any
-relation but that of juxtaposition in space and time. He falls
-back on the skepticism of Hume, and takes refuge behind his
-ignorance. He is too ignorant either to assert or to deny the
-existence of spirit, and though he may not be able to prove the
-phenomena in question are the product of material forces, nobody
-knows enough of the nature and essence of matter to say that they
-are not; and in fine, he in the first part of his discourse is
-only stating the direction in which physiology has for some time
-been moving. After all, what is the difference, or rather, what
-matters "the difference between the conception of life as the
-product of a certain disposition of material molecules, and the
-old notion of an Archaeus governing and directing blind matter
-within each living body?"
-</p>
-<p>
-But if matter lies out of the limits of science, and the
-professor is unable to say whether it exists or not, what right
-has he to call anything material, to speak of a material basis of
-life, or to represent life and its phenomena as the product of "a
-certain disposition of material molecules"? What, indeed, has he
-been laboring to prove through his whole discourse, but that the
-phenomena of life are the product of ordinary matter? After this,
-it will hardly answer to plead ignorance of the existence and
-properties of matter. If matter be relegated to the region of the
-unknowable, his whole thesis, terminology and all, must be
-banished with it, for it retains, and can retain, no meaning.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nor will it answer for the professor to take refuge in Hume's
-skepticism, and say he is not a materialist, because he admits no
-necessary relation between cause and effect, or that there is
-within the limits of science, any power or force, or <i>vis
-activa</i>, which men in their ignorance call "cause," actually
-producing something which men call "effect." If he says this,
-what becomes of his thesis, that life and even mind are the
-<i>product</i> of a certain disposition of material molecules, or
-of "the peculiar combination of the molecules of the protoplasm"?
-If he denies the existence, or even the knowledge of causative,
-that is, productive force, his thesis has no meaning, and all his
-alleged proofs of a physical basis of the vital and mental
-phenomena must count for nothing.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_476">{476}</a></span>
-Every proof, every argument, presupposes the relation of cause
-and effect. When that relation is denied, and the two things are
-assumed to have with each other only the relation of
-juxtaposition, no proposition can be either proved or disproved.
-The professor, after having asserted and attempted to prove his
-materialistic thesis, cannot, without gross self-contradiction,
-plead the skepticism of Hume in his defence. If he holds with
-Hume, he should have kept his mouth shut, and never stated or
-attempted to prove his thesis.
-</p>
-<p>
-Whether we are or are not able to prove that life, sense, and
-reason do not originate in the peculiar "combination of the
-molecules of the protoplasm," is nothing to the purpose. It is
-for the professor to prove that they do. He must not base his
-science on our ignorance, any more than on his own.
-</p>
-<p>
-But our space is exhausted and we must close. Taken, as we have
-taken him, on what he must concede to be purely scientific
-ground, and brought to a strictly scientific test, the
-professor's thesis must be declared not proven, and to be
-destitute of all scientific value. We have met him on his own
-ground, and have urged no arguments against him drawn from
-religion or metaphysics; we have simply corrected one or two
-mistakes in his science, and assailed his inductions with pure
-logic. If he has not reasoned logically, that is his fault, not
-ours, and neither he nor his friends have any right to complain
-of us for showing that his inductions are illogical, and
-therefore unscientific. Yet we are bound to say that the
-professor reasons as well as any of his class of scientists that
-we have met with. No man can reason logically who rejects the
-<img class="txtimg" alt="[Greek text]" src="images/476.jpg">, that is, logic itself, and nothing better than
-Professor Huxley's discourse can be expected from a scientist who
-discards all causes and seeks to explain the existence and
-phenomena or facts of the universe, without rising from second
-causes to the first and final cause of all.
-</p>
-<p>
-Two questions are raised by this discourse, of great and vital
-importance. The one as to the <i>nexus</i> between cause and
-effect, in answer to Hume's skepticism, and the other as to
-spirit and matter, and their reciprocal relation. We have not
-attempted the discussion of either in this article; but should a
-favorable occasion offer, we may hereafter treat them both at
-some length.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_477">{477}</a></span>
-
-            <h2>Two Months In Spain<br>
-         During The Late Revolution.</h2>
-
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-  Gibraltar.<br>
-  October 7.
-</p>
-<p>
-At an early hour yesterday we left Cadiz, which did indeed look
-like a "silver cup floating on the water," as the Spaniards say
-of it. As the steamer bore us away, the rising sun upon its white
-towers and cathedral dome, the belvideres which adorn the roof of
-every house, (making each look like a church,) the lovely green
-alameda, the distant mountains, the pretty white towns on the
-shore, the hundreds of vessels in the sparkling bay, all made an
-enchanting scene, from which we were recalled to the miseries of
-sea-sickness! From time to time, we crept upon deck to see the
-fine sea view, and when we came to Tarifa, near the straits, the
-scene was magnificent. On one side, the mountains of Africa,
-Tangier in the distance; on the other, the mountains of Spain and
-the Moorish-looking town of Tarifa, with an island on which is
-the lighthouse and defences standing directly in the mouth of the
-straits; so that it seemed as if a long line of vessels with
-their white sails spread were encompassing the island. In sight,
-at one time, were eighty sail. Every nation under the sun seemed
-represented, as they saluted one another with their flags. Among
-the rest, Sweden and Norway. We landed at Gibraltar under a
-glorious sunset. The farewell beams lighted the mountains with a
-tint of gilded bronze. Gibraltar, opposite these, was like a huge
-gray mountain, and behind it the sky was of the palest rose
-color, melting into blue where it touched the water. The town is
-on the side and at the foot of the "Rock," (a place of sixteen or
-twenty thousand inhabitants,) and above it are the famous
-galleries cut through the rock, from which we could see the noses
-of the great guns peeping from the port-holes, range after range,
-one above another, till the top is reached, where is the Signal.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Rock of Gibraltar is 1430 feet high, and about three miles
-long&mdash;a great gray sphinx jutting into the water. It is joined to
-the mainland by a narrow slip of sand, capable of being submerged
-if necessary. Upon this neck of land is the "neutral ground," (a
-narrow strip,) where, side by side, the fair British sentinel and
-the sunburned Spaniard keep their "lonely round." We mount upon
-donkeys to ascend the "Rock," passing through the wonderful
-"galleries" which, at an immense expense, have been cut into the
-solid rock, where, with the guns, are depositories for powder,
-balls, etc. Some of these galleries are over a mile and a quarter
-long, lighted by the port-holes, which, in passing, gave us
-glimpses of the loveliest of landscapes. Leaving the galleries,
-we ascend by zigzag paths to the Signal; at every turn feasting
-our eyes upon the wonderful panorama spread out below us, which
-is seen in perfection from the summit. Here we looked down upon
-two seas, the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, and two worlds,
-Europe and Africa! Spain on one side, with the snowy heights of
-the Alpujarras and Sierra Nevada; at our feet, the town of
-Gibraltar, with the lovely  alameda, its green trees and bright
-gardens, the glorious bay crowded with shipping&mdash;men-of-war,
-school ships, steamers, and every small craft; and, seemingly,
-but a stone's throw across lay Ceuta, at the foot of that other
-"Pillar of Hercules" which rises 2200 feet, and looks like a
-mountain of bronze, while Gibraltar is of gray granite.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_478">{478}</a></span>
-These two great pillars were considered in the olden time the end
-of the world&mdash;the Tarshish of the Bible; the Calpe of the
-Phoenicians, who erected here Calpe (carved mountain) and Abyla.
-</p>
-<p>
-Tarik, the one-eyed Berber chief, took Gibraltar in 711, and
-called it after his own name, Ghebal Tarik, from whence comes
-Gibraltar.
-</p>
-<p>
-While upon the "Signal," we signalize the event by taking a lunch
-of delicious English cheese, bread and butter, (the first butter
-we have had in Spain,) and such ale! And while thus agreeably
-engaged, we hear that an American man-of-war is coming into port,
-which proves to be the flagship of Admiral Farragut; so we repair
-to the rampart to see the ship saluted by the town, and then by
-the British frigate Bristol, to both of which the Yankee replied
-in gallant style. It was a fine sight, and, altogether, the scene
-a most remarkable one. Down by the neutral ground, some English
-officers playing cricket looked like ants in the sunshine; the
-blue guard-tents of the English sentinels, and the white ones of
-the Spaniards, were little specks, and the Christian and Jewish
-cemeteries were like checker work on the greensward.
-</p>
-<p>
-How longingly we looked toward the purple mountains of Africa,
-and that beautiful city of Tangier which we had hoped to visit!
-but the quarantine, still in force, obliged us to abandon the
-idea. It would have been <i>something</i> to set foot in another
-continent! Ceuta, which belongs to Spain, and is but a
-prison-house, could not tempt us. Tearing ourselves from this
-wonderful scene, we descended by the other side of the mountain
-and entered the city by beautiful gardens near the alameda,
-seeing below us the government houses, store-houses, magazines,
-and many fine residences embowered in gardens of tropical trees
-and plants; whole hedges of geraniums and cactus lined the
-roadside, and almond trees, dates, and oranges. We passed a
-convent-school with beautiful and extensive gardens. In the
-evening there is music on the alameda, where are trees and
-statues, and marble benches, on which sit the motley population
-of this strange place; Moors in turbans, bare-legged Highlanders,
-officers in scarlet, Andalusians in the red faja, Irishmen fresh
-from their native isle, ladies in French bonnets and English
-round hats next the Spanish mantilla and ever-moving fan.
-Gibraltar is a free port, and every people and kindred meet here
-for trade. The garrison is very large, about three thousand men
-in time of peace; for the Spaniards see the occupation of this
-important point in their country with great jealousy, and would
-gladly seek occasion to win it back. And every now and then the
-subject is mooted in the English parliament of giving it up, as
-it is a most expensive appendage to the English people, and can
-bring little benefit save to their pride.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_479">{479}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-      Malaga Hotel Alameda.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-October 8.
-</p>
-<p>
-Leaving Gibraltar at an early hour, and passing the forest of
-ships in the bay, we soon see the last of the pillars of Hercules
-and the African coast. The sea is calm, and the coast of Spain
-along which we come is most beautiful. There is something
-peculiarly interesting in the mountains of Spain; they seem to
-rise hill upon hill till they grow to be mountains, and instead
-of the blue of most southern countries they are of a mulberry
-hue&mdash;seldom with trees, and reminding one of the purple moors of
-Scotland. The steamer is crowded with families returning from
-Gibraltar, whither they had fled to get out of the way of the
-revolution.
-</p>
-<p>
-We find a busy, crowded city, a lovely bay with mountains in the
-background, an old Moorish castle overlooking the city, and a
-beautiful alameda, with trees, and statues, and marble seats,
-upon which we look from the windows of our delightful hotel.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-October 9.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first thing to-day is to drive to a lovely villa, (that of
-the Marquis de Casa Loring,) in whose garden we see every fruit
-and flower and tree of the tropics. Bananas and mangoes, the
-coffee-tree, the magnolia and India-rubber trees, and among all
-these we found, and ate, ripe persimmons!&mdash;that homely fruit of
-old Virginia, found amidst all these oriental splendors; and
-sweeter were they than even the oranges which we gathered from
-their overladen trees. Returning, we paused to see another villa,
-from whence is a more extensive and beautiful view of the
-mountains, the city and the sea, and the fertile plateau upon
-which Malaga lies, and which is said to rival even the famous
-huertas of Valencia and Murcia in variety and luxuriance of
-vegetation. The cemetery gives another favorite point of view,
-and the old Moorish castle (Gibralfaro) has even a finer one; but
-the day is too warm to attempt the ascent. The castle dates from
-1279, and the lower portion, (the Alcazaba,) which is connected
-with it, is supposed to be of Phoenician origin; Malaga having
-been first a Phoenician colony, and afterwards Roman. Of the
-remains of the Roman period, we saw two interesting bronze slabs
-in a pavilion of the Villa Loring this morning, one of them
-containing the municipal laws of Malaga under Domitian, and the
-other those of a city (Salpense) now unknown.
-</p>
-<p>
-The interior of the cathedral, which rises upon the site of an
-ancient mosque, is not at all remarkable. It was begun in 1528.
-The church of "El Cristo del Victoria" is interesting, from the
-circumstance of its being built on the spot where stood the tents
-of the Catholic kings during the siege of 1487. On the right of
-the altar hangs the royal standard of Ferdinand, and on the left
-the one taken from the Moors. When the city surrendered, the
-former was hoisted on the castle, or alcazaba. Opposite this
-church is a small church, San Roque, the first Christian edifice
-built here by Ferdinand and Isabella. The crucifix which was
-formerly here was the one brought by their majesties, is highly
-revered, and is now over the high altar of Santa Victoria.
-</p>
-<p>
-Malaga is famed for its climate, the best in Spain. It is
-considered drier, warmer, and more equable than that of Rome,
-Pau, Naples, or Nice, even superior to Madeira. Invalids flock
-here, and it will soon be as crowded as Nice. The extreme dryness
-of the air is its marked feature, and it is said that there are
-not ten days in the whole year when an invalid may not take
-out-door exercise. The evaporation is so great, the rain has no
-influence on the air. During nine years, it has rained only two
-hundred and sixty times. The "oldest inhabitant" does not
-remember to have seen snow, and the cold winds from the Sierra
-Nevada are kept off by the mountains immediately surrounding the
-city.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_480">{480}</a></span>
-To show the longevity of the inhabitants, in the year 1860,
-twenty-nine out of five thousand deaths were of people who had
-lived to the ages of <i>ninety or a hundred</i>.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 Granada.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-October 10
-</p>
-<p>
-This morning we leave Malaga at an early hour by rail, the road
-being cut through extraordinary mountain passes to Antiquera, an
-old Roman and Moorish town; from thence by diligence to Loja,
-where we again take the railway. The journey is altogether
-delightful, the day being cool and bright, and the mountain
-scenery on either side grand and beautiful. Loja is in a narrow
-valley, through which runs the Genil river, on one side the
-Periquete Hills (Sierra Ronda) and the Hacho. The Manzanil unites
-here with the Genil, both rapid and clear mountain streams
-fertilizing a lovely valley. Soon after leaving Loja, we reach
-Santa Fé, (Holy Faith,) built by Queen Isabella to shelter her
-army in winter during the siege of Granada in 1492, and called
-"Santa Fé" because she looked upon the war as a struggle for the
-faith, and believed piously in its happy issue. This little town
-has been the scene of many important operations and political
-acts. It witnessed the signing of the capitulation of Granada,
-and it was to this town that Columbus was recalled by Isabella
-when he had already reached the bridge of Piños, behind the
-mountains, determining to ask aid elsewhere for his great
-undertaking.
-</p>
-<p>
-Darkness now fell upon us, and except one exquisite view which
-the setting sun gave of the snow mountains over Granada, we saw
-nothing till we reached this last stronghold of the Moors in
-Spain, and found lodgings inside the Alhambra grounds in the
-Hotel Washington Irving.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-October 11.
-</p>
-<p>
-We go first to the Cathedral, to hear the high mass, and pay our
-respects to the remains of Ferdinand and Isabella, which rest
-there. Driving through beautiful ornamental grounds out of the
-Alhambra gate, down a steep hill in the old Moorish looking city,
-we find the cathedral, like that of Malaga, greatly ornamented,
-(in the Greco-Roman style,) built in 1529. Within the sanctuary
-are eleven pictures by Alonzo Caño, and two of his most
-celebrated pieces of sculpture&mdash;the heads of Adam and Eve carved
-in cork. Caño was a native of Granada, and is buried in the
-Cathedral Bocanegra. Another of the celebrated artists of Spain
-was also a native here, and the cathedral has several of his
-pictures. But everything connected with the church sinks into
-insignificance when one enters into the royal chapel, where all
-that can perish of the great Ferdinand and Isabella lies (a small
-space for so much greatness, as Charles V. said.) In a crypt,
-below the chapel, in plain leaden coffins, with but the simple
-initial of each king and queen upon them, are the coffins of
-Ferdinand and Isabella and their daughter Joanna, with her
-husband Philip I. (the handsome)&mdash;the last&mdash;that very coffin
-which the poor crazed Joanna carried about with her for
-forty-seven years, embraced with such frantic grief, and would
-never be parted from. Nothing was so affecting as the sight of
-this&mdash;not even the remembrance of all Isabella's glories and
-goodness! So does an instance of heart devotion touch one more
-than even the sight of greatness. Above the vault are the four
-beautiful alabaster monuments, made by order of Charles V. to the
-memory of his father and mother and his grandparents.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_481">{481}</a></span>
-Ferdinand and Isabella, with their statues, lie side by side; and
-poor Joanne la Folle looks lovely and placid (all her jealousies
-over) beside the husband she adored, as if at last sure that she
-could not be divided from him. Isabella died at Medina del Campo,
-(near Segovia, about thirty miles from Madrid,) but desired to be
-buried here in the bright jewel which she had won as well for her
-crown as for her God. Her body was taken to Granada in December,
-journeying over trackless moors amidst storms and torrents, of
-which the faithful and learned Peter Martyr gives account, who
-accompanied his beloved mistress to her last home.
-</p>
-<p>
-The inscription which runs around the cornice tells: "This chapel
-was founded by their most Catholic Majesties, Don Fernando and
-Doña Isabel, king and queen of las Españas of Naples, of
-Sicily&mdash;of Jerusalem&mdash;who conquered this kingdom, and brought it
-back to our faith; who acquired the Canary Islands and Indies, as
-well as the cities of Oran, Tripoli, and Bugia; who crushed
-heresy, expelled the Moors and Jews from their realms, and
-reformed religion. The queen died Tuesday, November 26, 1504; the
-king died January 23, 1516. The building was completed in 1517."
-</p>
-<p>
-The <i>bassi relievi</i> on the altar in this chapel are very
-interesting, from the scenes they represent&mdash;Ferdinand and
-Isabella receiving the keys of Granada from Boabdil, etc. At each
-end of the altar are figures of the king and queen in the costume
-of the day, the banner of Castile behind the king. In the
-sacristy is the crown of Isabella, the sword of Ferdinand, the
-casket in which she gave the jewels to Columbus, some vestments
-embroidered by her own hand, and the tabernacle used on the altar
-where they heard mass, on which is a picture of the adoration of
-the Magi, by that wonderful old painter Hemling of Bruges. Lord
-Bacon has said of Isabella: "In all her relations of queen or
-woman, she was an honor to her sex, and the corner-stone of the
-greatness of Spain&mdash;one of the most faultless characters in
-history&mdash;the purest sovereign by whom the female sceptre was ever
-wielded."
-</p>
-<p>
-We hear mass in the chapel of the Sagrario, a beautiful church in
-itself. It was on one of its three doors that the Spanish knight
-Hernan Perez del Pulgar (during the siege of Granada) nailed the
-words, "Ave Maria;" to accomplish which feat, he entered the town
-at dusk, and left it unharmed&mdash;nay, even amidst the plaudits of
-the Arabs, who appreciated the deed. He is buried in one of the
-chapels called "Del Pulgar."
-</p>
-<p>
-From the Cathedral we visit the "Cartuja," once a wealthy
-Carthusian convent, built upon grounds given to the monks by
-Gonzales de Cordova&mdash;"El gran Capitan." In the refectory is shown
-a cross, painted on the wall by Cotan, which so well imitates
-wood that the very birds fly to it, and try to perch there. The
-church has a beautiful statue of St. Bruno upon the altar; and a
-larger one in the chapel of the Sagrario, by Alonzo Caño, is
-especially fine. The sacristy is rich in marbles from the Sierra
-Nevada, and the doors and other wood-work of the church and
-chapel are made of the most curious and beautiful inlaid
-work&mdash;tortoise-shell, ebony, silver, and mother of pearl&mdash;all
-done by one monk, who took forty-two years to accomplish it; and
-after so adorning this chapel, behold! the monks are driven from
-it.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the church are several lovely pictures&mdash;a head of our Lord by
-Murillo; a copy, by Alonzo Caño, of the Viergo del Rosario in the
-Madrid gallery, and a copy of one of the "Conceptions" of Murillo
-&mdash;that one with the fair flowing hair, so very lovely.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_482">{482}</a></span>
-<p>
-Returning home, we have our first view of the snow mountains,
-(Sierra Nevada.) How strange and how charming to be beneath a
-tropical sun, and with all the beautiful vegetation of Africa and
-the Indies, with people all eastern in dress and manners, and see
-above one snow-capped mountains like the glaciers of Switzerland!
-Owing to the proximity of these glaciers, the heat is never
-intolerable here, and yet the winters are so mild they seldom
-need fire in their sitting-rooms or parlors.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-October 12.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day is made memorable by our first visit to the Alhambra.
-Situated on a high hill, on either side of which flows the Darro
-and the Genil, this space, which occupies several hundred acres,
-was formerly surrounded by walls and towers, and contained within
-it the palaces and villas of the Kalifs of Granada; and so
-numerous were these that it was called a city, Medina Alhambra.
-Of all these, there now remains but that portion of the Alhambra
-known as the summer-palace, (the winter-palace having been torn
-down by Charles V. to make room for a palace which he never
-finished.) Besides this summer-palace, there is the "Generalife,"
-(a summer-palace built&mdash;later than the Alhambra&mdash;in 1319;) the
-remains of the Alcazabar, (fortress,) the Torre de la Vega, where
-the bell strikes the hours in the same manner as in the Moorish
-days, to signify upon whom devolves the duty of irrigating the
-"vega," the beautiful and fertile plain below; the tower of the
-captive; tower of the princesses; the tower of the "Siete
-Suetos," (seven stories;) and the Torres Bermujas, (Red Towers.)
-The last named are outside the Alhambra walls, but are on the
-same hill, and claim to belong to an older date than even the
-Moors or the Goths&mdash;supposed to be of Phoenician origin. The
-walls are entered by several gates, some Arabic, and others more
-modern. From these gates, you wander among stately avenues of
-trees, with flowers and shrubs and charming paths, through which
-now and then is seen a glimpse of the yellow towers, or some
-picturesque ruin, altogether a scene of enchanting beauty. And
-when upon one of the "miradors" (look-outs) or terraces which
-crown these towers and palaces, there lies the Moorish city at
-your feet, the grand snow mountains on the east, the beautiful
-vega stretching to the mountains on the west, down which marched
-the conquering Christians; and on the south lies that mountain so
-poetically called "the last sigh of the Moor," from which Boabdil
-looked his last upon the kingdom he was leaving for ever, and
-where his mother made him the famous reproach which has passed
-into history, that he did well to weep as a woman over that
-kingdom he could not defend as a man.
-</p>
-<p>
-And how venture to describe the Alhambra, which has been written
-of by such men as Prescott and Irving! how give to any one an
-idea of that which is unique in the world, of the grace and
-beauty and wonderful variety of its adornments&mdash;the carvings like
-lace, the bright colored mosaics and azuelos, (tiles,) the
-transparent stucco work and filagree, the inlaid cedar-wood
-roofs, the pillars, the domes and fountains, the courts, the
-beautiful arches! We enter first the Court of the Myrtles, in
-which a large square pool, filled by a fountain at either end, is
-surrounded by a hedge of fragrant myrtle, and this in turn by a
-marble colonnade, over which is a second gallery, with jalousies,
-through which we could imagine the dark eyed beauties to have
-peeped.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_483">{483}</a></span>
-The roofs of these galleries are of cedar-wood inlaid, and the
-arches and sides of exquisite wreaths and vines in stucco, with
-shields of the Moorish kings, mottoes and verses from the Koran,
-etc. This court was a place of ablutions for the kalifs.
-</p>
-<p>
-From the Court of the Myrtles, one sees the Tower of Comares,
-(called from the name of its Persian architect;) and within this
-tower, opening from the Court of Myrtles, and preceded by its
-"antesala" is the Hall of the Ambassadors, the largest, highest,
-and most beautifully adorned of all the Alhambra. Here was the
-sultan's throne and reception room. On three sides, arched
-windows look down into the deep ravine from which the tower
-rises; and, beyond, upon an enchanting prospect, the old Moorish
-city and the verdant hills and mountains. The roof of this hall
-is a sort of imitation of the vault of heaven, and that of the
-"antesala" (called "La Barca," from being shaped like a boat) is
-also very elegant.
-</p>
-<p>
-On another side the Court of Myrtles is the famous Court of the
-Lions, with its one hundred and thirty-six pillars of white
-marble, its twelve lions in the centre, supporting an alabaster
-basin, (a fountain.) At each end, a pavilion projects into the
-court, with arabesque patterns so light and graceful that the
-very daylight is seen through the stucco.
-</p>
-<p>
-Opening from the Court of the Lions is the Hall of the
-Abencerrages, deriving its name from the legend according to
-which Boabdil invited the chiefs of the illustrious family of
-that name to a feast, and had them taken out one by one and
-beheaded. Others assert that they were murdered in this hall, and
-show the stains of blood in the marble of the fountain. As they
-had been mainly instrumental in placing him upon the throne, this
-act of ingratitude helped to his ruin. This story is generally
-believed, but Washington Irving has rescued the name of this
-"unlucky" one (<i>el chico</i>) from this unjust aspersion. His
-investigations prove that the crimes laid to the charge of
-Boabdil were in reality committed by his father, Aben Hassin. He
-it was who murdered the thirty-six Abencerrages upon suspicion of
-having conspired against him, and it was he who confined his
-queen in the "tower of the captive," etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the east side of the Court of the Lions is the "Sale del
-Tribunal," (the hall of justice,) where the kalifs gave audience
-on state affairs. Three arches in the centre and two at either
-end lead into this hall, which is ninety feet long by sixteen
-wide, with a dome thirty-eight feet high. This is divided by
-arches into seven rooms, all profusely ornamented, and in the
-ceilings of several recesses are paintings of Moors, with
-cimeters, castles, etc. In one of these rooms is the famous
-Alhambra vase of porcelain, four feet three inches high, which
-was found full of gold. In another small room are three
-tombstones, one of Mohammed II., and one of Yusef III., found in
-the tomb-house of the Moorish kings, near the Court of the Lions,
-in 1574. They have long and elaborate inscriptions, one of which
-reads thus:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "In the name of God, the most merciful and clement!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "May God's blessing for ever rest with this our king!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Health and peace!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Gentle showers from heaven come down on this tomb, and give it
-  freshness, and the orchard spread its perfume upon it. What
-  this tomb contains is wine without admixture, and myrtles.
-  Reward and pardon be granted to him who lies within.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It was God's pleasure that he should dwell amid the garden of
-  delights.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Those that inhabit those happy regions come forth to meet him
-  with palms in their hands.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_484">{484}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "If thou wouldst know the story of him who lies in the tomb,
-  listen. He was a prince above all in excellence. May God give
-  him sanctity!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "He was cut down into the dust. Yet the Pleiades themselves are
-  not his equals.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Unavoidable fate took up arms, and aimed at the very throne of
-  the empire.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Oh! how great was his fame. His excellence, how high! and
-  unbounded his virtues!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "For Abul Hadjaj was like the moon that points out the road to
-  take, and when the sun went down its brightness beamed no less
-  from his eyes.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Abul Hadjaj showered down tokens of his liberality. But
-  drought is come; his liberality has ceased; his crops are
-  gathered.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "His generosity is forgotten; his halls are lonesome; his
-  ministers silent, and his rooms deserted.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "But it was God's pleasure, the merciful one, (may he be
-  glorified,) to take him into the eternal dwelling when he
-  deprived him of life.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Here lies he softly, within this narrow tomb, but his real
-  dwelling is the heart of every man.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Why should I not pray God that the rain should moisten his
-  tomb with its abundant dew? for the rain of his liberality
-  showered down upon all without ceasing.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Was he not filled with the fear of God, with gentleness and
-  wisdom? Amongst his qualities, were not virtue, liberality, and
-  magnificence one part?
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Was he not the only one that with his science cleared up all
-  doubts?
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Was not poetry one of his attributes, and did he not deck his
-  throne with verses like strings of pearl?
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Was he not always stout, and held his ground in the
-  battle-field?
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "How many enemies his sword repelled!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "But Ebn Nasr, his successor, is certainly the greatest among
-  all monarchs of the earth.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "May God protect him!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "For he is most generous and victorious; besides, he
-  distributes rewards generously. He has saved the kingdom from
-  ruin, and restored it to its former greatness."
-</p>
-<p>
-The Hall of the Two Sisters takes its name from two white slabs
-of equal size in the pavement. Here are beautiful arches, windows
-with painted jalousies, a fountain, and a wonderful roof,
-composed of three thousand pieces in little miniature domes and
-vaults, all colored in delicate blue and red with white and gold.
-From this hall, indeed quite from the Court of the Lions, one
-sees through a series of arched entrances into the "Corredor de
-Lindaraja," in which room are thirteen little cupolas, and the
-Mirador de Lindaraja (a boudoir of the sultana) looks upon the
-garden of Lindaraja, with flowers, and fountains, and
-orange-trees.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the opposite of this lovely garden, and looking into it, are
-the rooms occupied by Washington Irving, those built by Philip V.
-for his beautiful queen, Elizabeth of Parma, whom the Spanish
-call "Isabel Farnese." Several corridors here lead to modernized
-parts of the building&mdash;" the queen's boudoir," a chapel made by
-Charles V. out of the mosque, and a lofty tower, used by the
-Arabs as an oratory for the evening prayer, and from which the
-view is superb&mdash;the "Generalife" with its white towers, the woods
-of the Alhambra, the Darro far below in the deep gorge, and,
-beyond and above all, the snow-capped Sierra Nevada.
-</p>
-<p>
-The "Patio de la Mosquita" (the court of the mosque) has only the
-remains of its beautiful roof.
-</p>
-<p>
-From this to the baths is a long corridor leading to the Chamber
-of Rest, which has just been restored by Sig. Contreras, the able
-architect who is repairing the whole building, by order of the
-queen. This has a fountain in the centre, marble pillars all
-round, a gallery above, where the musicians played and sung while
-the bather inclined upon the cushions below; within were the
-marble baths of the sultan, the sultana, etc.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_485">{485}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Generalife" means garden of pleasure, and here garden above
-garden rises upon the mountain side, through which the Darro
-rushes noisily, being brought by a little canal quite through the
-mountain. In one of the rooms are some interesting portraits of
-the kings and queens of Spain. Ferdinand and Isabella, Philip the
-handsome, Jeanne la Folle, Charles V. and Isabella, Don John of
-Austria, etc.; and in a second room a series of portraits of the
-Dukes of Granada, whose descendant, now married to an Italian
-nobleman of Genoa, owns this lovely place. The founder of this
-house was a converted Moor, and to his descendants (the houses of
-Venegas and Granada) Philip IV. made this a perpetual grant. In
-one of the many gardens are some cypress-trees planted by the
-Moors, seven hundred years old. Under one of these, a love story
-is said to have been enacted, of which the beautiful Sultana
-Zorayda is the heroine. Amongst the portraits in the picture
-gallery is one of Boabdil, fair and handsome, with yellow hair,
-and a gentle, amiable look. He may not have had the qualities
-fitted to the terrible emergency in which he was placed, when
-domestic contention and misrule had so weakened his empire as to
-make it difficult to struggle against the growing greatness of
-Ferdinand and Isabella; but he must have possessed qualities
-which won for him the love of his people, for many years after
-his time, the Moors who still lingered about Granada sung the
-plaintive song said to have been composed by Boabdil himself,
-relating his misfortunes and his sorrows, spoke of him
-reverently, and lamented his fate.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is said he lived to see his children begging their bread at
-the door of the mosques in Fez. He was killed in Africa, fighting
-the battles of the prince who gave him shelter.
-</p>
-<p>
-We hasten from the Generalife to see the sunset from the Torre de
-la Vega, which is the finest view we have had of the city&mdash;the
-Vega with the lovely rivers winding through it, and the grand
-mountains beyond. As the sun declined, from the many church bells
-came the "Ave Maria," soft and musical from the great distance
-below.
-</p>
-<p>
-The guide points out the hospital founded by St. John of God, (a
-Portuguese saint,) the founder of the brothers of charity now
-spread all over Europe. According to the guide, the saint asked
-the king for as much land, on which to build this hospital, as he
-could enclose in a certain number of hours. Of course he was
-miraculously assisted; and by working all night, he took in so
-great a space that the king became alarmed. Here he built this
-hospital and the church in which he is buried. He lost his life
-rescuing a drowning man, and died blessing Granada.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Tuesday.
-</p>
-<p>
-Spent the whole morning in the Alhambra, wandering amid its
-beauties, feasting upon its romantic memories, and reading at
-intervals the charming legends connected with every spot so
-delightfully told by Washington Irving. In the hall of the
-tribunal, we read his account of the entrance of the triumphant
-Ferdinand and Isabella, and fancy the scene when Cardinal Mendoza
-celebrated the first mass here.
-</p>
-<p>
-Seated in the Court of the Lions, we meditate upon the cruel
-death of the noble Abencerrages, and lean from the window of the
-Tower of Comares, down which the good Ayesha let her infant son
-Boabdil escape, to save him from the jealous fury of her rival
-Zorayda.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_486">{486}</a></span>
-<p>
-And then, in the later days of the beautiful Elizabetta of Parma,
-we recall the scene where the hypochondriac Philip persists in
-being laid out for dead, and can only be brought to life by the
-voice and lute of the fair maiden, "the Rose of the Alhambra."
-</p>
-<p>
-In contrast to the Alhambra are the remains of the palace begun
-with such magnificence by Charles V., of which only the walls
-remain. Within their vast area and amongst its marble pillars,
-muleteers were depositing their billets of wood, and burdens of
-dirt and ashes! <i>Sic transit gloria mundi</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-We go to look at that which has lasted longer, the church built
-by him near by, and called Sta. Maria del Alhambra. Wandering on,
-we find ourselves amongst the ruins of the Franciscan convent
-(still within the Alhambra walls) which was destroyed by the
-French in 1809-11, when so much of the Alhambra was injured.
-</p>
-<p>
-Led by a little boy, and following the wall, we come upon a
-plantation of cactus, with its red and yellow fruit, which a man
-is gathering with great scissors, to prevent its prickings. A
-woman politely cuts and pares some for us to taste. It is sweet
-and juicy; is much eaten by the poor, who call it "Tuños." They
-also make from it a palatable drink&mdash;a sort of beer. Hans
-Andersen has written a pretty sonnet to the cactus, which seems
-especially applicable to this time and occasion.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Yes, yellow and red are the colors of Spain;
-     In banners and flags they are waving on high;
-   And the cactus flower has adopted them too,
-     In the warm sunshine to dazzle the eye.
-   Thou symbol of Spain, thou flower of the sun,
-     When the Moors of old were driven away,
-   Thou didst not, like them, abandon thy home.
-     But stayed with thy fruit and thy flowers so gay.
-   The thousand daggers that hide in thy leaves
-     Cannot rescue thee from the love of gain;
-   Too often it is thy fate to be sold,
-     Thou sunny fruit with the colors of Spain."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Here we find ourselves at the tower of the "Siete Suelos,"
-through which Boabdil passed when he left the Alhambra for ever.
-It is said that he asked of Isabella that the door might be
-walled up, so that no one should ever pass through it after him,
-and his conquerors acceded to his request. Returning through one
-of the many beautiful paths leading to our hotel, we diverge to
-look at a view which presented itself, and find we are near the
-villa of Señora Calderon. Here, terrace above terrace rises in
-view of the mountains, and on the summit is an artificial lake,
-with bridges and boats, and winding walks, and flowers and
-fruits, and statues and fountains&mdash;everything to make a perfect
-paradise.
-</p>
-<p>
-At night, we have a gypsy-dance. The chief of his troop is the
-finest guitar player in Spain&mdash;there can be no better in the
-world&mdash;a tall, dark, grave man, who received our plaudits with
-kingly grace; he looked as if in sorrow over the degradation of
-his people, who are here in great numbers, living in wretched
-quarters on a hillside, in holes or caves in the ground.
-</p>
-<p>
-The dancers were four lovely, graceful girls, modestly dressed,
-and several men, all dark, with large, soft eyes and white teeth.
-A youth in short jacket, with broad red faja (sash) and the
-peculiar Andalusian hat, danced a solo of strange fashion, with
-many movements of the body, and the extraordinary gestures which
-belong to all. The feet move in short steps&mdash;a sort of "heel and
-toe"&mdash;while the body sways to and fro, and the hands and arms
-move gracefully and expressively. The men had tambourines and the
-women castanets, and the wild airs to which they danced were
-accompanied with their voices. The variety of dances and songs
-was curious and interesting, and often descriptive. At the end of
-each dance, the girls came round and saluted all, gentlemen and
-ladies, by passing one arm over the neck.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_487">{487}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Wednesday.
-</p>
-<p>
-Drive about the city, the public squares, etc., and visit the
-remains of the old Moorish bazaar which occupies a square
-intersected by narrow lanes, every one of which is beautifully
-ornamented with pillars and arabesque work.
-</p>
-<p>
-The alameda, planted in long avenues of trees which meet
-overhead, beyond which one catches a view of the Snow mountains,
-and beside which flows the Genil river, can not be excelled in
-beauty.
-</p>
-<p>
-The church and hospital of St. John of God is most interesting.
-Over the door are these words of the saint, "Labor, without
-intermission, to do all the good works in your power while time
-is allowed you." The hospital is built round a large court, with
-fountains and gardens, and a double row of corridors in which sat
-the sick poor, clean and comfortable. It communicates with the
-church, which has several good pictures, and a head of St. John
-the Baptist, carved by Caño.
-</p>
-<p>
-In a richly ornamented chapel behind the great altar is the body
-of the saint in a silver casket. The remains of St. Feliciana are
-also here, as well as many other relics. In an adjoining room is
-seen the identical basket in which the saint carried provisions
-to the poor.
-</p>
-<p>
-The church was built by contributions sent by one of the order
-from South America. The cedar-wood doors are said to be made from
-the logs in which the concealed treasures were brought over.
-</p>
-<p>
-We climb to the top of the "Torres Bermujas," outside the
-Alhambra walls, from whence is another splendid view&mdash;a curious
-old ruin, dating from the time of the Phoenicians. It is said to
-have been a stronghold of the Jews, who made a colony here during
-their persecutions by the Romans; and being treated with equal
-cruelty by their Gothic conquerors, they invited in the Moors,
-betrayed the city to them, made terms for themselves, and thus
-brought upon themselves the eternal enmity of the Spaniards, who
-treated them with great rigor after the conquest, and finally
-banished them. In the story of the three beautiful princesses,
-this tower plays an important <i>rôle;</i> here were confined the
-captive Spanish knights who eloped with the Infantas, (daughters
-of Mohammed the left-handed,) and beyond, rising above the deep,
-romantic ravine, is the Tower of the Princesses, beneath which
-the knights sang their tales of love.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-  Madrid, Hotel De Paris.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-  Friday, October 16.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yesterday (my feast) and the feast of the great Spanish Saint
-Teresa was celebrated by our most sorrowful departure from
-Grenada! At three o'clock in the morning, we descend the hill of
-the Alhambra, and ruefully mount to the top of a Spanish
-diligence, and squeeze into what they call the "coupe"&mdash;an
-exalted place behind the coach-box, from whence one looks down
-upon the ten mules who drag this lumbering vehicle, see all their
-antics, observe the rash manner in which they tear down
-precipitous heights, and mount steep ascents, having the
-comfortable certainty that in no event of danger could we
-possibly descend from this lofty perch and save ourselves!
-</p>
-<p>
-A "special providence," however, guards the Spanish diligence, to
-say nothing of the three "conductors"&mdash;the postillion who rides
-in front, the individual who sits on the box with gold lace and
-red on his cap, and who smokes leisurely, let what will happen,
-only occasionally speaking to the mules, calling them by name,
-and urging them on with a sound like "ayah!" and the boy who runs
-alongside shouting, screaming, and plying the whip, now jumping
-on the front of the diligence to rest a moment, now hanging on by
-one hand to the side doors or behind; active as a cat he springs
-up and down while the vehicle is at full speed, keeping one all
-the while in terror for his safety.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_488">{488}</a></span>
-<p>
-Such is the Spanish diligence from the "coupé." In the interior,
-shut out from the front view, one only hears the united voices of
-the "conductors," and it is less exciting. We who are above,
-however, have the advantage of a fine view of the mountains, (the
-Sierra Morena,) over which we pass by a smooth and beautiful
-road.
-</p>
-<p>
-Jaen is the only place of importance which we see, an old Moorish
-town with histories and legends, a fine cathedral, and a Moorish
-castle on the height above. From this, a few hours brings us to
-Menjibar, where we take the railway at six P.M., and reach Madrid
-about eight the next morning. At Menjibar, we bid adieu to our
-young American friend, who had journeyed with us since leaving
-Cordova, and parted with the Scotch and German ladies whom we had
-encountered at various points.
-</p>
-<p>
-Madrid is filled with people. General Prim is in this hotel, is
-modestly refusing to be made dictator, and proposing that Spain
-shall have, as heretofore, a king. We shall see how long it will
-be before (like Caesar) he is overpersuaded, and reluctantly
-assumes power.
-</p>
-<p>
-Topete (the admiral who, at Cadiz, brought over the fleet) is
-also in Madrid; and Serrano, the prince of the traitors, is
-president of the provisional government. The table d'hôte is
-crowded with men of the press, (letter-writers of all nations,)
-giving their several impressions of matters to the gullible
-"public," and interpreting events to suit the taste of their
-readers. We ask one of these (a witty Frenchman) if he writes for
-<i>Le Monde</i>. "Oui, Madame, pour tout le monde." Amongst the
-motley crowd, we distinguish the letter-writer of the <i>London
-Times</i>, and him of the New York <i>Times</i>, with whom we
-make acquaintance, and who having lived a long time in France,
-and being of Irish extraction, is very little of an American in
-appearance and manner.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-  Saturday, October 17.
-</p>
-<p>
-Madrid is a modern city with fine buildings and shops, many
-handsome streets and squares, and a beautiful promenade, called
-the Prado, (meadow.) The principal of these squares is the
-"Puerta del Sol," upon which this hotel opens, and which is
-always thronged with people, and is all life and bustle. This
-being the head and front of the revolution, and General Prim
-being in the house, the doors are besieged by beggars and
-revolutionists. As we walk the streets, in many shop-windows are
-vulgar caricatures of the queen and the priests. This is adding
-insult to injury, and the very essence of meanness&mdash;to take away
-her throne, and then aim at her character as a woman. It is
-refreshing to find that the best people we see&mdash;the best born,
-the best bred, and the best educated&mdash;defend her from these
-aspersions, and are loyal to her, and to the throne.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-  Sunday, October 18.
-</p>
-<p>
-We hear high mass in the church of the "Calatrava," (an ancient
-order of knighthood,) where are crowds of pious looking men.
-Certainly it will be difficult for the revolution to rob these
-people of their religion. For a time they may be intoxicated with
-the excitement of the change, but the reaction must come, when
-the sober second thought will bring them back to their true
-friends.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_489">{489}</a></span>
-Now, the banishment of the Jesuits, the best and most learned
-teachers, the confiscation of church property, and the
-destruction of churches initiates the new order of things.
-Yesterday, an English gentleman (one of the noisiest supporters
-of the revolution) told us how the junta had given two places of
-great trust and importance into the hands of two of the lowest
-and most vulgar and ignorant of the bull fighters; and thus this
-class of people who have helped on the revolution must be
-rewarded. We hear, to-day, that General Prim has offered to
-promote, one grade, every officer of the army lately opposed to
-him. To their honor be it spoken, every one refused such
-promotion.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-           To Be Continued
-</p>
-<hr>
-
-        <h2>Translated From The French.
-<br><br>
-         Sister Aloyse's Bequest.</h2>
-<br>
-                  <h3>I.</h3>
-<p>
-How delightful it is to sit under the grand old trees of the
-courtyard on this charming mid-summer evening! The light breeze
-is redolent with the fragrance of the new-mown hay, and the
-leaves seem to quiver with joy in an atmosphere heavy with
-sunshine. The swallows pursue each other in play with short, wild
-cries, and in the foliage of the linden-tree that brown bird, the
-nightingale, tries her brilliant cadences, drowned at times by
-the shouts of the children at their sports answering her in the
-silences, whom without doubt they understood and admired. The
-children, happy as the birds, dance and whirl about, just like
-those motes one frequently sees rising up in a sunbeam. The nuns,
-sombre and silent figures, watch them, contemplating life in its
-flower and carelessness. This court-yard where the children play
-and the birds sing belonged formerly to a monastery of the order
-of St. Benoit; but now to a cloister built out of its ruins,
-where the virtues of ancient days flourish under the shelter of
-modern walls, which are hallowed by the memories of the past.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some young girls, no less pleased with the gambols of the
-children, were walking in groups to and fro under the vaulted
-arches which encircled the court, talking and laughing merrily;
-but whenever they approached a nun reclining in an easy chair, by
-an involuntary impulse they lowered their voices. She was a poor
-invalid, who had been brought out to enjoy the sweet odors and
-the pleasant warmth of the evening. She appeared to be nearing
-the end of life, though still young. For the paleness of her
-cheeks, the emaciation of her body, and the transparent whiteness
-of her hands, all proclaimed the ravages of a long and incurable
-illness. There was no more sand in the hourglass, no more oil in
-the lamp, and her heart&mdash;like a timepiece about to stop&mdash;was
-slacking its pulsations. One could not help but see that Sister
-Aloyse retained a very powerful fascination in the beauty which
-her terrible illness had not been able to efface. Her dark blue
-eyes had not lost their almond-shape or sapphire hue.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_490">{490}</a></span>
-Her figure was still elegant, seen under the loose robe which
-wrapped her like a winding-sheet; and her voice was as sweet and
-agreeable as in former days.
-</p>
-<p>
-At first she felt a little better upon being brought into the
-garden; but she still suffered, and neither the pure air nor the
-mildness of the beautiful evening had revived her. She sat in
-silence, absorbed, perhaps, in those last thoughts, which she did
-not confide even to herself, and which, to one who is about
-departing, seem to give a glimpse of those unknown shores which
-are yet so near to her who waits them.
-</p>
-<p>
-What is she thinking of? Of her past without remorse; of her
-future without terror? Does she regret anything which she has
-renounced for her God? Does one last thread hold captive this
-celestial bird? I cannot say. She appears sad; yet her
-companions, always so affectionately attentive, do not seem to be
-surprised. For Sister Aloyse had always been characterized, even
-in the more beautiful days of her youth, by a kind of melancholy.
-She resembled an angel of peace, but yet an angel who weeps.
-</p>
-<p>
-One young girl, who was walking under the arches, regarded her
-with great interest; and finally, leaving the group by whom she
-was surrounded, approached the nun, dropped on her knees in the
-grass before her, and, looking in her face, said earnestly:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, my sister, are you better this evening?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Sister Aloyse blushed slightly, just as porcelain is tinged with
-a faint rose-color when a flame is passed behind it, and answered
-in a voice sweet and low:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank you, Camille, I am not well, and I shall never be any
-better till I come into the presence of our Lord. Look! does it
-not seem indeed as if the gates of heaven were opening yonder?"
-</p>
-<p>
-She pointed to the west, then filled with the glory and splendor
-of purple and gold and flame colors.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yet one cannot go there," answered Camille in a caressing tone.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! yes; provided the great God will receive us. And something
-warns me that I shall shortly go to him."
-</p>
-<p>
-Both now became silent, Camille sadly regarding her companion.
-Educated in this convent, she had always been accustomed to see
-Sister Aloyse there, where she was much beloved. She would like
-to have given her some pleasure, but what could she give, or what
-could she say, to a person so detached from earthly things, and
-whose aspirations were fixed on joys eternal?
-</p>
-<p>
-The nun was still thinking, praying perhaps; and after a long
-silence she said,
-</p>
-<p>
-"Camille, you must come and see me some time before I go away
-from here. But now good-night, dear!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Two nuns now came forward to help the sister into the house,
-while Camille, who had gathered some white roses, carried them to
-Aloyse, saying,
-</p>
-<p>
-"They are from my own little garden, my sister; therefore take
-them, I pray you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Willingly," said Aloyse, "and I will offer them to the Holy
-Virgin. And, Camille, do not forget to remember me in your
-prayers tonight."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  II.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Go, my child," said the old abbess to Camille, "go to the
-infirmary and see Sister Aloyse; she has something to say to
-you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is she going to die?" asked Camille with tears in her eyes.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_491">{491}</a></span>
-<p>
-"She will go to her eternal home soon, but not to-day. Have no
-fear, child, but go and listen carefully to what she tells you."
-</p>
-<p>
-Camille with agitated heart (for this poor heart is so quickly
-stirred at sixteen years!) ascended the staircase which led to
-the cells of the nuns. She passed through a long corridor out of
-which opened the little doors, all of which, instead of a number
-or design, bore some holy image or pious inscription. At the end
-of this corridor she found the infirmary, a large room, quiet and
-retired, whose windows opened upon the court and garden below. At
-this moment it was almost vacant; she found only one bed
-occupied, that of Sister Aloyse, who, as she had no fever, had
-been left by the infirmarian while she attended vespers in the
-chapel. Camille noiselessly approached the bed, the curtains of
-which were half drawn so that Aloyse could see out. She was
-sitting up supported by her pillows, and her hands were joined
-before her on the cross of her rosary. She smiled on the young
-girl, who timidly embraced her; and then Camille very earnestly
-asked her why she had sent for her to come to her bedside instead
-of any other of the girls, or her friends or companions; for she
-was afraid, as one naturally dreads what is unknown. The nun
-fixed upon her those searching eyes which seemed to look through
-and beyond anything present, and said with much sweetness,
-</p>
-<p>
-"Sit down, Camille; I have something to say to you." She
-hesitated, but finally said, "You have never heard any one of
-your family speak of me?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Never," answered the child, somewhat surprised. "I have known
-something of your family&mdash;your father," she said with an effort.
-"But it was a long time ago, a very long time&mdash;before you were
-born. I was related to your grandmother, Madame Reville."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I never saw her, but I have seen her great portrait," said
-Camille.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, it hangs in the red drawing-room, does it not?" asked
-Sister Aloyse with a sad smile. "Ah! well. Madame Reville
-received me into her family as a lady's companion&mdash;a reader&mdash;for
-I was poor, and needed some home. Your father did not live at
-home with his mother, but he came there very frequently."
-</p>
-<p>
-Here she paused, breathing with difficulty, but continued:
-</p>
-<p>
-"He wished to marry me; Madame Reville was opposed to it; he
-insisted. I saw he would disobey his mother; I was afraid for
-him; I was afraid for myself. So I prayed to the good God. He did
-not reject my afflicted and desolate heart, but he&mdash;the Divine
-Consoler&mdash;called me into this home, and placed this holy veil as
-a barrier between the world and myself. Here I found peace,
-purchased sometimes with bitter suffering, but real; for it
-filled the depths of my heart; it was the price of my sacrifice.
-And I was able to see, in the clear light which streamed from the
-cross, how all joy is deceitful, and all pleasure empty and
-false. After two years had passed, I came to consecrate myself
-with irrevocable vows to God's service, when the friends who now
-and then came to see me, and public report, which in our day
-finds its way even into the cloister, told me of the only thing
-which had still power to afflict me. For, Camille, your
-father&mdash;but what can I say to you who bear his name! M. Reville,
-angry at my departure, and grieving for the loss of the poor
-creature that I am, sought forgetfulness in dissipation.
-Undoubtedly, he forgot me&mdash;I trust and hope he did&mdash;but he also
-forgot his God!
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_492">{492}</a></span>
-Your father is not a Christian; nay, he is an enemy to
-Christianity! Ah! since the day when I first knew that our
-prayers did not meet in the pathway to heaven, how have I wept,
-how have I prayed, how have I done penance! Alas! my tears, my
-blood, my vigils, my sufferings&mdash;all have not prevailed, and I am
-pierced to the depths of my heart with the terrible reflection."
-</p>
-<p>
-She was unable to continue; her voice died upon her lips, while
-tears, clear and burning, rolled down her cheeks. Camille,
-kneeling by her bedside, wept too; for she began to see what this
-self-denying heart had suffered.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My child," finally said the sister after a long silence, "I
-shall soon die, and there will then be no one to pray for him,
-since your mother, who ought especially so to do, is dead. You
-love your father, don't you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, with all my heart!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, then, promise me that you will unceasingly pray for his
-conversion&mdash;that you will offer for him your every action and
-your every pain; promise me that there shall always be a
-suppliant voice to take the place of poor Aloyse's, which will
-soon be hushed in death&mdash;to cry 'mercy!' Think of what it is to
-have a soul and an eternity, and that soul your father's!"
-</p>
-<p>
-She had seized the hands of the child in both her own, and fixed
-upon her a look in which the last forces of her life were
-concentrated. "Promise!" said she. Camille thought a moment&mdash;her
-young face wore a grave and stern expression. Finally, raising
-one arm toward the crucifix, she said in a distinct voice: "I
-solemnly promise you, my sister, I will continue what you have
-commenced. I will pray, I will labor all my life for his
-conversion." A ray of heavenly light illumined Sister Aloyse's
-countenance, and she sank back upon her pillows, murmuring, "I
-can die now."
-</p>
-<p>
-Two days later she passed away, with a peace and serenity worthy
-of the blamelessness of her whole life, though in breathing her
-last she cried, "Have mercy!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Was it of herself she thought?
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 III.
-</p>
-<p>
-Many years have passed away. The grass grows thick and green upon
-the bed of clay where sleeps Aloyse. Camille, grown into a fine
-young woman, keeps house for her father. She has travelled with
-him, she has seen the world, its balls and its routs, but she has
-never forgotten the promise made to Sister Aloyse. This promise
-has banished the strength of her limbs and of her youth. She has
-become serious all at once. She has given to her life but one
-aim, and that sublime and difficult, and from that moment when
-the struggle which had animated the life of Aloyse passed into
-her own all her actions, all her thoughts, had been devoted to
-the redemption of one soul. At first overflowing with the
-thoughtless and enthusiastic zeal of youth, she would talk to him
-of that religion whose arguments her heart found so natural, and
-which seemed to her so irresistible. Her father would laugh at
-her, and she would cry; she would persist, however, until he
-became so angry that she was frightened. Finally she decided to
-be more quiet in the future, and to leave to God the conduct of
-her cause. But with what vigils, with what prayers, what sighs,
-what agony of heart, and with what fervent desire did she ask God
-for that precious soul! And what vows did she make to the Blessed
-Mother! What flowers she offered upon her altar!
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_493">{493}</a></span>
-What prayers, in which she thanked God for the kindness that had
-given mortals this all-powerful Mediatrix! Her father's guardian
-angel, what careful conversation did she hold with him! How she
-labored and prayed for that of which he never thought!
-</p>
-<p>
-As years pass, Camille's piety becomes more rigid; self-denial
-joins itself to acts of earnest charity, in their turn
-supplemented by generous alms!
-</p>
-<p>
-One would naturally ask why Camille, rich and young, charming and
-admired, should rise so early in the morning, should spend so
-many hours upon her knees in church? Why she went with the
-Sisters of Charity to visit the sick, why her attire was so plain
-and simple, why her room was so little ornamented, why she
-labored without any relaxation, and finally, why with so
-interesting an appearance and conversation she preferred so
-severe a life? No one upon earth could answer these questions
-except the guardian angel who writes down these noble acts to the
-account of their forgetful subject, her unrepentant father.
-</p>
-<p>
-But she accomplished nothing, although the rigors were not for
-herself, though she maintained, for her father, this piety united
-with a tenderness which only made her more sweet and
-affectionate. His hard heart did not open to the rays of divine
-grace, nor to the timid smiles of his child. The taste for
-amusement, born of a desire for forgetfulness, had chased from
-his heart, at the same time with a pure love, the belief in holy
-things. The heavenly flame had been quickly extinguished beneath
-the ashes of pleasure; and, like many other children of his age,
-he had neglected to believe through fear of being compelled to be
-good. Bad society and bad literature had completed the work of
-headlong dissipation; and neither marriage nor paternity had
-reclaimed him. His birth, fortune, and indisputable talents
-raised him to public offices. And, to be consistent with his
-principles, and congenial to his friends, he had to be inimical
-to all religion. The seminaries; the Brothers of the Christian
-Doctrine; the Sisters, hospitallers or teachers; the free
-establishments; the Carmelites, who ask nothing of a person; the
-Clarisses, who ask only a piece of bread; the Little Sisters of
-the Poor, who gathered food for their old men; the foreign
-missions; the sermons in Lent in the parish; the general
-indulgences granted by the pope; the cardinals in the senate; and
-the Capuchins who went barefooted&mdash;were all equally the objects
-of his strong aversion. He read continually the <i>Journal des
-Débats</i>, the <i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i>, and the liberal
-journal of his department&mdash;of that department in which he played
-a prominent part. Shall we say, in excuse for him, that his
-impiety had never been tried by adversity; and that he had found
-the world so delightful that he had wished to live for ever in
-it? In youth he had lived in the midst of noisy pleasures. In
-more advanced life he lived for comfort, for his house&mdash;cool in
-summer, warm in winter, splendid at all times&mdash;for his grand
-dinners, his good wine, his fine horses and elegant equipages. He
-enjoyed exquisitely those excellent things which the public
-generally esteem, but in which divine grace does not much appear.
-The memories of youth he did not often recall. He now scarcely
-recollected the name of that poor cousin whom he had once loved
-so passionately, but who had never forgotten him, who, even in
-the arms of death, had displayed an angelic love. One day Camille
-spoke of Sister Aloyse, and added,
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_494">{494}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Was she not related to us, father?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, yes&mdash;a romantic affair! She threw herself into a convent;
-she became weary even there!"
-</p>
-<p>
-He took several turns through the room with a preoccupied air,
-and finally stopping before the great picture of his mother&mdash;a
-withered and haughty figure&mdash;he said,
-</p>
-<p>
-"My mother did not love this poor Aloyse much! Poor girl! What a
-charming voice she had! A voice which ought to astonish the
-convent when she chants the <i>Miserere!</i> She will sing no
-more; she has a pain in her chest. Zounds! The discipline of the
-convent! What a pity for this pretty Aloyse to be buried alive!
-On the stage she would equal Malibran!"
-</p>
-<p>
-And this was all! The remembrance of Aloyse was only that of a
-young girl who could sing charmingly, and who, perhaps, might
-have commanded a situation in a theatre!
-</p>
-<p>
-He loved his daughter; but, for all that, she troubled him, and
-he was anxious that she should marry, so that he might be
-relieved from the care and responsibility. She did not oppose his
-wishes, for she did not feel that God appointed her to lead the
-life of a nun; but she wished her husband to be a Christian, and
-said so to her father. He only shrugged his shoulders and cried,
-</p>
-<p>
-"Still these absurd ideas!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The Christian, however, presented himself, and at twenty-two
-Camille Reville became Madame de Laval.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  IV.
-</p>
-<p>
-Camille is now no longer twenty. Her youth has passed on swift
-wings, and white is beginning to streak her dark hair; but her
-pleasant face preserves the repose of former days. She has been
-blessed with mixed and imperfect happiness, such as every one
-tastes in this world. For in this life the black squares are
-never far distant from the white ones; and in its tangled skein
-the dark threads are woven in by the side of brighter colors. She
-had lived most happily with her husband. Together they had
-laughed over their little children's gambols, and together wept
-over them in sickness. They had brought them up with the labor
-and care which, in our day especially, accompanies all true
-Christian education. Their eldest daughter, Amelia, had been
-married about a year; and they were now very happy in expectation
-of her approaching maternity. The second daughter was finishing
-her education in the same convent of Benedictines where her
-mother had been in her youthful days. Their son André was in a
-polytechnic school, and their youngest, Maurice, was pursuing his
-Latin studies in his native village.
-</p>
-<p>
-Through the disappointments and joy of her life, through days of
-rain and days of sunshine, Camille had pursued one thought
-faithfully&mdash;the grand aim which she had proposed to herself in
-early life, her father's conversion. As a young wife she had
-prayed with her husband, for his heart beat in unison with hers.
-As a young mother, she had taught her children to pray with her.
-And now, having reached the autumn of life, she still
-prayed&mdash;prayed constantly; but as yet her prayers had received no
-answer.
-</p>
-<p>
-The old man lived with her; and every moment she surrounded him
-with care and tenderness. She watched him and brooded over him
-more like a mother than like a daughter. And it was hard indeed
-for her, that this old man of sixty-six years would not listen to
-any serious conversation, would only rail at holy things, and
-would learn no lesson from either life or death. And she was ever
-obliged to turn his words from their real meaning, and interpret
-his jeers and sarcasms so that they would not shock her innocent
-little children.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_495">{495}</a></span>
-At this moment we find Camille in the drawing-room with her
-father, who is half asleep before a great fire, with the
-<i>Débats</i> at his feet. She is sewing on some linen for the
-coming baby; but twice stops to read two short letters received
-that morning from two of her absent children. After a thousand
-details about boarding, upon the compositions in history, upon
-the new piece of tapestry which Clotilde had just begun, upon the
-sermons delivered by a new father whose name she did not know,
-she went on to say: "I never forget, dear mother, to pray with
-you&mdash;you know why! It seems to me that the moment is approaching
-when the gentle God will answer us&mdash;as if grandpapa was going to
-be astonished that he had been able to live so long without
-thinking of God!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The second letter was from André, and would have been
-unintelligible to any one who did not possess the key to a
-school-boy's language. But at the end there was a passage which
-Camille kissed again and again: "Dear mamma, I love you, and I
-always pray with you, just like you." A stick of wood which just
-now rolled down with a great noise awoke M. Reville, who, after
-rubbing his eyes, asked his daughter, "Where is Maurice?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is skating. Do you wish me to take his place, and do anything
-to amuse you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, thank you. But stop, you may read instead; read this
-discussion in the Chambers upon the military law."
-</p>
-<p>
-Camille took the paper and read slowly; and the old man's eyes
-were still closed when the violent ringing of the door-bell woke
-him up completely, and made Madame de Laval start.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What is the matter with you?" asked her father.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not know; only the sudden ringing frightened me."
-</p>
-<p>
-She jumped up and ran into the hall, and at the same instant her
-husband entered from the street. She moved toward him, but
-suddenly stopped, frozen with an inexplicable horror. M. de
-Laval's face was of an ashy paleness; he tried to speak, he
-stammered&mdash;the words died upon his lips, and his wife, in one of
-those quick transitions which thought makes, believed he was
-going to fall dead at her feet.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What ails you?" she cried, reaching out her arms toward him. "Do
-not be frightened, Camille," said he; "but Maurice&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-He was unable to finish.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Maurice!" she echoed. "Where is he? Why does he not come home? O
-great God! he is dead. He is drowned!"
-</p>
-<p>
-M. de Laval had now somewhat recovered himself, and he explained:
-"He rescued a child who was drowning, and was wounded in the
-head. They are bringing him home. My dear Camille, keep up heart!
-He lives! God will restore him to us!"
-</p>
-<p>
-She staggered and looked at her husband with fixed eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Have courage," he cried.
-</p>
-<p>
-The servants, already called together by the sad news, had opened
-the gates to the relatives and the friends who were coming in
-every direction, and also to those who were bringing Maurice.
-They bore him on a litter, covered with a mattress, and his head,
-all bloody, with eyes wide open, rested upon a pillow made of the
-coats of the brave men; while behind the litter walked a man all
-covered with blood. He was the father of the child whom Maurice
-had saved at the price of his own life.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_496">{496}</a></span>
-<p>
-The boy was quickly placed upon the bed, and the physicians were
-soon by his side, followed by the parish priest. Camille,
-kneeling beside him, saw, as in an evil dream, the surgeon dress
-the wound which Maurice had in the temple, and afterward talk in
-a serious manner to the other physicians behind the curtain. She
-saw the priest go up to Maurice, and, after talking to him in a
-low voice, bend over him and raise his hands in the benediction
-of the dying, and immediately after give him the holy oils. As in
-a dream she heard her husband's voice saying, "Dear wife, the
-good God wants him! Look at our Maurice."
-</p>
-<p>
-She then looked at him. Maurice, aroused by the words of the
-priest, had regained complete consciousness, and knew that he was
-dying. He seemed more than tranquil&mdash;happy; and, looking around
-on all present, said,
-</p>
-<p>
-"Good-by, papa; I only did what you taught me."
-</p>
-<p>
-He then discovered the father of the rescued child, who had
-concealed himself behind M. de Laval. "Give my love to your
-little boy," said he.
-</p>
-<p>
-His eyes then sought for his mother. She got up, and, bending
-over him, took him in her arms. "Dear mamma, make me an offering
-for dear grandpapa's conversion. Say to him&mdash;" He stopped. His
-mother saw the light fade from his eyes, and knew that his breath
-was hushed in death. For a long time she remained holding him in
-her arms, like that more desolate of mothers, bathing him with
-her tears, and unable to listen to the comforting words of either
-husband or father, both of whom were overwhelmed with grief. At
-last, her piety, those religious sentiments which had always
-animated her life, prevailed, and she said aloud,
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, my God! I accept the sacrifice, and I sacrifice him for my
-father. Save him, Lord, save him!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Two days later they buried poor Maurice, the whole village
-attending his funeral.
-</p>
-<p>
-The same evening the priest, who had been with him in his last
-moments, presented himself to Madame de Laval, and said:
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are afflicted, but your prayers are heard. Divine grace has
-pursued your father, and this very morning, when the body of your
-child was yet in the house, he called me to him and made his
-confession. He could hold out no longer, he said to me. Rejoice
-then, madam, in the midst of your grief."
-</p>
-<p>
-She did indeed rejoice, though she still wept.
-</p>
-<p>
-"O Aloyse," said she, "and my dear Maurice! They are then taken
-away, but at what a price!" "Thank God!" cried the priest. "He
-separates a family here only to reunite them in eternity!"
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_497">{497}</a></span>
-<br>
-       <h3>From Les Etudes Religieuses</h3>
-
-  <h2>The Second Plenary Council Of Baltimore,
-  And Ecclesiastical Discipline
-  In The United States.</h2>
-  <p class="center_close">
-  [Footnote 129]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [Footnote 129: <i>Concilii Plenarii Baltimorensis II. Acta et
-  Decreta. Baltimorae</i>, 1868.]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-[Introductory Note&mdash;The periodical from which the following
-article has been translated is one of the highest character,
-published at Paris under the editorial supervision of the Jesuit
-fathers. The account which it renders of the late Council of
-Baltimore is made doubly valuable from the fact that it is the
-work of a foreign, and therefore an impartial, judge. We have
-been obliged to make a few corrections in the article. Several of
-these were suggested by the Most Rev. President of the Council,
-and the rest were required by obvious and quite natural
-inaccuracies of a writer living in a foreign country.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-The superior of the Grand Seminary of Baltimore has recently done
-us the honor of transmitting, in the name of his archbishop,
-[Footnote 130] a copy of the <i>Acts of the Council</i> held in
-that city in 1866. He asks us to make known the contents to the
-readers of the <i>Etudes</i>. It gives us pleasure to accede to
-this request.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 130: Mgr. Spalding, Archbishop of Baltimore, is the
-    author of several interesting publications on the religious
-    history of the United States. He has published two essays
-    concerning the legislation of the early Protestant colonies
-    respecting divine worship. In their legislation is to be
-    found intolerance running to the most cruel extremes, and
-    this almost until the Revolution of 1776. Besides these, he
-    is the author of <i>Evidences of Catholicity, Sketches of
-    Early Catholic Missions in Kentucky,</i> and <i>Spalding's
-    Miscellanea</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-On the eve of the great event which the Catholic world expects at
-the close of this year, it seems to us that there are few
-subjects more interesting, or more worthy to be treated of, than
-the present. The very organization of the present council, at
-which forty-six bishops were present, will give us a fair idea of
-what is to be done when all the prelates of all countries and
-churches are convened. Moreover, the decisions made in such an
-imposing assembly will not fail to clear for us some obscure
-points. But, better than all, the collection of decrees will make
-us comprehend the situation of Catholicity in the immense
-territories of the new world, where it is called to such a lofty
-destiny.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the 19th of March, 1866, the Feast of St. Joseph, Mgr.
-Spalding, using the powers received for this purpose from the
-sovereign pontiff, convoked at Baltimore a Plenary Council,
-[Footnote 131] to be opened on the second Sunday of October, in
-the same year.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 131: A council is called plenary at which the
-    bishops of several provinces are assembled. After a general
-    or oecumenical council there is nothing more solemn. The
-    present is the second of this character which has been held
-    at Baltimore. The first took place in 1852.]
-</p>
-<p>
-If any bishops were prevented from appearing personally, they
-were to be represented by proxies furnished with authentic
-powers. The day having come, after a preliminary congregation,
-held the evening before to clear up certain details, the council
-opened with a grand, solemn, and public procession; in which
-figured forty-four archbishops and bishops, one administrator
-apostolic, two mitred abbots, together with the most
-distinguished of the American clergy. It was a spectacle alike
-new and imposing for that great city. More than forty thousand
-people met to witness it.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_498">{498}</a></span>
-In the streets through which the procession passed, there was
-scarcely a house which was not decorated. This was undoubtedly
-one of the grandest and most beautiful Catholic demonstrations
-which has yet been seen in that land of liberty, where all sects
-and communions find a rendezvous. The council furnished one of
-those striking lessons which the good sense of Americans does not
-forget, and which by little and little will lead them to
-understand that where there is unity there is also life.
-</p>
-<p>
-Every deliberative assembly has need of order; the fathers began
-by tracing a plan for themselves; these are its principal
-dispositions.
-</p>
-<p>
-Every day the particular congregations of theologians were to
-meet together. These were to discuss among themselves and judge,
-in a preliminary manner, the measures proposed. The result of
-their deliberations, gathered by a notary, with the votes and
-motives alleged for or against, in case of a disagreement, was
-then to be transmitted to the bishops. These, again, held private
-congregations where they occupied themselves solely with
-questions already debated by the theologians. <i>A procès
-verbal</i> was made, by the secretaries, of what passed in these
-meetings. A new examination and judgment was made in this second
-instance; yet these preliminary discussions decided nothing; all
-was to be referred to the general congregations, and, finally, to
-the sessions of the council, where the decrees received their
-last form, and the sanction which makes them obligatory.
-</p>
-<p>
-As to the order which was to reign in their deliberations, the
-bishops found nothing better fitted to their purpose than a small
-portion, clearly stated, and well defined, of the rules called
-parliamentary, and consecrated under that name in the public
-assemblies of their land. Each had the right of proposing
-whatever he would, provided he did so by writing and in the Latin
-tongue; but a motion made by a member could not become a matter
-of deliberation, unless another prelate joined the first in
-making the demand. None was at liberty to depart from the
-prearranged schedule, nor from the title which formed the object
-of present discussion. As to the rest, the greatest liberty of
-opinion was not only accorded, but counselled, as long as the
-orators confined themselves to the limits of propriety. If any
-one transgressed these, or prolonged his discourse uselessly, any
-member could demand a call to order; the <i>promotor</i> was
-charged with executing the laws of order, but, in cases of doubt,
-final decision belonged to the president.
-</p>
-<p>
-Before publication in the sessions, the decrees were submitted to
-general congregations; when not only the bishops but also the
-theologians might set forth their opinions, with only this
-provision, namely, that those should be first heard who formed
-the commission on which had previously devolved the consideration
-of the subject then under discussion. Such are the simple and
-precise dispositions which served to maintain order in so great
-an assembly.
-</p>
-<p>
-The apostolic delegate had by right four theologians; the
-archbishops, three; the bishops, two; some, however, contented
-themselves with only one. They were divided into seven
-congregations or bureaux, among which was divided the matter
-which was to occupy the attention of the council. [Footnote 132]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 132: This matter comprised the following subjects.<br>
-      <i>1. <i>De Fide Orthodoxa, deque erroribus
-      serpentibus;</i><br>
-      2. <i>De Hierarchia et regimine Ecclesiae;</i><br>
-      3. <i>De Personis Ecclesiasticis;</i><br>
-      4. <i>De Ecclesiis bonisque ecclesiasticis tenendis
-      tutandisque;</i><br>
-      5. <i>De Sacranentis;</i><br>
-      6. <i>De Cultu Divino;</i><br>
-      7. <i>De Disciplinae
-      uniformitate promovenda;</i><br>
-      8. De Regularibus et monialibus;<br>
-      9. De Juventute instituenda pieque erudienda;<br>
-      10. De Salute animarum
-      efficacitis promovenda;<br>
-      11. De Libris et ephemeribus;<br>
-      12. De Societatibus Secretis.</i>
-<br><br>
-    Several congregations occupied themselves with two of these
-    subjects at once because of their connection. In the council
-    were added a thirteenth congregation, on the creation of new
-    bishoprics, and a fourteenth, on the execution of the
-    decrees.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_499">{499}</a></span>
-<p>
-Each congregation was presided over by a bishop; it had, besides,
-a vice-president and an ecclesiastical notary, charged, as we
-have seen, with the care of transmitting to the prelates the
-result of these deliberations. For the council itself were chosen
-a chancellor archdeacon, a secretary with assistants, a notary,
-who was to assist those who discharged the same function in the
-particular congregations; two <i>promotors</i>, one a bishop, the
-other a priest, charged with maintaining order and observance of
-rule in the sessions and public meetings; finally, judges, who
-were to pronounce on motions of absence, or on differences which
-might arise. Severe penalties were laid on all who should leave
-before the work of the council should be finished.
-</p>
-<p>
-This rapid glance at the organization of this assembly and at its
-plan of operations seems to us necessary, in order to understand
-the labor accomplished by it.
-</p>
-<p>
-The chief task of the council was to fix, I had almost said to
-create, [Footnote 133] ecclesiastical discipline throughout the
-entire extent of the United States.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 133: If the writer had said this, he would have
-    made a great mistake. While the United States formed one
-    province, many provincial councils were held at Baltimore;
-    and since the creation of the other provinces they have been
-    regularly held in each one, and the principal points of
-    discipline have thus been long since effectually
-    settled.&mdash;ED. C.W.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Amid a population so diverse in origin, manners, character; amid
-the manifold influences produced by the heterogeneous mixture of
-conflicting sects in which each Catholic congregation is obliged
-to live, it would seem difficult to establish uniformity.
-Moreover, the spirit of modern times is in every respect so
-different from that of bygone ages, private and public
-institutions have undergone such modifications, that the
-application of the canon law meets on all sides obstacles
-apparently insurmountable. The prelates of North America have
-legislated with such prudence, with such a perfect union of ideas
-and sentiments, that their churches will hereafter possess in the
-collection of their decrees a complete code of laws. [Footnote
-134] These "acts," printed in a convenient form, are to be used
-as a text-book in all the seminaries, and this text, with the
-comments of the professor will, we are assured, suffice for the
-entire course of canon law. Apart from some inconsiderable
-differences regarding days of fasting and feasts of obligation,
-[Footnote 135] all the churches will hereafter have a common law
-and the same customs. Assuredly, one can scarcely comprehend the
-vastness of this result, and we are undoubtedly convinced that
-the Second Plenary Council of Baltimore is destined to a
-memorable place in the history of Catholicity in the United
-States.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 134: The present council had at heart to re-collect
-    in its acts the legislation fixed by preceding councils. The
-    decrees taken from these are recognized by a different style
-    of print. An appendix gives <i>in extenso</i> all the
-    important portions, above all, those which have come from
-    Rome. Thus all the ecclesiastical legislation of the United
-    States is to be found in a single volume.]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 135: The prelates had addressed a petition to Rome
-    that uniformity on this point might be established. The
-    answer which had been returned was, that it was better to
-    respect the existing customs of each diocese, and that, if
-    modifications were to be made therein, each bishop might have
-    separate recourse to the holy see. But the feast of the
-    Immaculate Conception was declared a feast of patronage and
-    obligation throughout the whole of the United States.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The dogmatic part of the acts has not and could not have the same
-importance, since a national council, however numerous, generally
-does naught but state the faith already defined; nevertheless, on
-this very ground, we find declarations very interesting, and
-which deserve to command the attention of the Christians of
-Europe.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is to the united fathers, and, after them, to the assisting
-theologians, that the merit of this great work is due.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_500">{500}</a></span>
-Still, we cannot refrain from noticing Mgr. Spalding, Archbishop
-of Baltimore and apostolic delegate. Called to the presidency of
-the council by a special brief of the pope, dated February 16th,
-1866, instructed, moreover, by the Propaganda, which recommended
-to his zeal several important points, he it is who has prepared
-the matter of the decrees, and has brought together in advance
-all the elements which have entered into this vast construction.
-Under his wise and prudent direction, his brethren in the
-episcopate have made their choice. With the assistance of the
-secretaries and other officers of the council the edifice rises,
-to which Rome gives the finishing touch, changing a small number
-of the materials, and consecrating it with her supreme authority.
-</p>
-<p>
-Into this sanctuary, built with so much care, I invite the
-readers of the <i>Etudes</i> to enter, persuaded that we shall
-find therein much to admire and at the same time much to learn.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  I.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first chapter is consecrated to dogma. It treats of the faith
-and of the errors which are contemporaneously opposed to it. The
-prelates here recall the precept, imposed on all, of embracing
-the truth, and entering the haven of the true church. No safety
-is to be hoped for outside of this ark which God guards and
-conducts. However, they add, as to those who are plunged
-invincibly in error, and who have not been able to see the light,
-that the Supreme Judge, who condemns no man, save for his own
-faults, will assuredly use mercy toward them, if, although
-strangers to the body of the church, they have, nevertheless,
-with the assistance of grace, fulfilled the divine commandments,
-and professed those Christian truths which they were able to
-know. [Footnote 136]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 136: Tit. i. p. 6.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Such is the Catholic doctrine and the just principle to which all
-our pretended intolerance is reduced. The council recognizes the
-rights of reason as well as those of sound faith. It inserts at
-length in its decrees the four propositions formulated in 1855 by
-the Congregation of the Index, against traditionalism. At the
-same time it restates the condemnation pronounced by Gregory IX.
-against the system of Raymond Lulle, which expresses a thought
-too common in our day, namely, that faith is necessary to the
-masses, to vulgar and unlettered people, but that reason suffices
-for the intelligent man of study, and constitutes true
-Christianity.
-</p>
-<p>
-We notice in this chapter the solicitude of the bishops to place
-in the hands of the faithful a version of the Bible in the vulgar
-tongue. To this end they recommend the Douay translation, already
-approved and circulated by their predecessors. Far from opposing
-these efforts, the Congregation of the Propaganda, in the
-response addressed to the Archbishop of Baltimore with the
-revision of the acts of the council, lays great stress on the
-necessity of doing this. The congregation directs the prelate to
-compare anew the different English editions, to avail himself of
-other Catholic translations, if there be any, in order that we
-may have in English a faithful and irreproachable text of all our
-sacred books, and that this version may be spread throughout all
-the dioceses of America. Here we have a peremptory answer to
-those Protestants who, at this late hour, reproach Catholics with
-interdicting the reading of the Holy Scriptures.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_501">{501}</a></span>
-<p>
-On the question of future life, the fathers declared against
-those who deny the eternal duration of punishment, or so mitigate
-its severity that there remains no longer any proportion between
-the chastisement and the gravity of the offence. Then they
-rapidly review that multitude of religious sects and errors,
-which are nowhere so numerous or so different as in that classic
-land of free thought. Indifferentism, which considers all
-religions as equal; Unitarianism, which rejects the divinity of
-our Lord Jesus Christ; Universalism, which denies the eternity of
-punishment after death; finally, pantheism and transcendentalism,
-which destroy the personality of God, such are the latest forms
-and last consequences of free inquiry. What a contrast to these
-is the spectacle which Catholic truth affords; that full,
-complete, and unchanging Christianity, affirming itself, with
-full consciousness of its truth, in the face of a thousand
-systems which cannot withstand it and a thousand communions that
-fail to comprehend what it really is! All serious hearts in
-America must be stuck by such a difference. The Council of
-Baltimore has again made manifest where lies the strength that
-will triumph over all, and what is to be the "church of the
-future." The excesses of "Magnetism" and "Spiritism" have been
-carried beyond what the fathers consider the limits of morality.
-With regard to the first, they undertake to promulgate the
-well-known decisions of the sacred congregation of the council.
-[Footnote 137]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 137: Encycl ad omnes episcopos contra magnetismi
-    abusus. August 4th, 1856. Decisions of July 28th, 1847.]
-</p>
-<p>
-As to the second, not finding any explicit precedent in acts
-emanating from Rome, they express their own thought and doctrine
-thus: "It seems certain," they say, "that many of the astonishing
-phenomena which are said to be produced in the spiritual meetings
-are inventions; that others are the result of fraud, or are to be
-attributed to the imagination of the mediums and their
-assistants, or, possibly, to slight of hand. Nevertheless," they
-add, "it can scarcely be doubted that some of these facts imply a
-satanic interference; since it is almost impossible to explain
-them in any other way." Then, after a magnificent exposition of
-the action of good and bad angels, the prelates remark that, in a
-society of which so large a portion remains unbaptized, it is not
-surprising if the demon regains in part his ancient empire. They
-severely censure those Catholics who take part even indirectly in
-the spiritual "circles." Such is the decision of the council;
-and, for our part, we are happy to see what we have written on
-this subject [Footnote 138] fully confirmed by so imposing an
-authority.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 138: <i>Les Morts el les Vivants</i>. Paris, Le
-    Clere. <i>Etudes</i> 1862, p. 41.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 II.
-</p>
-<p>
-The second chapter treats of the hierarchy and government of the
-church. The fathers begin with a profession of filial loyalty to
-the holy see, whose privileges they recognize and enumerate with
-St. Irenaeus, St. Jerome, and St. Leo the Great. They protest
-with what respect and love they receive all the apostolical
-constitutions, likewise the instructions and decisions of the
-Roman congregations, given for the universal church or for their
-own special provinces. After Pius IX. they rebuke the manner of
-thought and action of those who count for nothing all that has
-not been expressly defined as of Catholic faith, and who,
-embracing opinions contrary to the common sentiment of
-Christians, fear not to shock their ears with scandalous
-propositions. The temporal power of the pope, its necessity under
-the present circumstances, in order to assure the independence of
-the head of the church, is also the subject of a solemn
-declaration.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_502">{502}</a></span>
-<p>
-Passing then to the bishops, the council affirms their double
-right of teaching and governing Christendom in union with the
-Roman pontiff, the successor of St. Peter and the vicar of Jesus
-Christ. According to the advice of the fathers of Trent,
-provincial councils are to be held every three years throughout
-the whole extent of the United States; for the bishops are
-persuaded that in these reunions are to be found the most
-efficacious remedies for the evils which afflict all parts of the
-church, when the pastors of dioceses, after having invoked the
-Holy Spirit, unite their wisdom to take measures most fitting to
-procure the salvation of souls. Accidental forms are ever
-changing. Formerly, the "synodal witnesses" [Footnote 139] were
-everywhere in use.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 139: Ecclesiastics chosen in the provincial
-    councils to observe the state of persons and things in their
-    dioceses, and to make a report to the metropolitan.]
-</p>
-<p>
-After the time of Benedict XIV. this function fell into disuse
-and was supplied by something else. The grave and learned pontiff
-makes use of these remarkable words, which the council has
-thought proper to reproduce:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The customs of men are modified and circumstances are
-  continually changing; that which is useful at one period may
-  cease so to be, and may become even pernicious in another age.
-  The duty of a prudent pastor, unless otherwise obliged by a
-  higher law, is to accommodate himself to times and places, to
-  lay aside many ancient usages, when by his judgment and the
-  light of God he deems this to be for the greater good of the
-  diocese with which he is entrusted." [Footnote 140]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 140:  De Synod. Dioec. L. V. c. iii. n. 7.]
-</p>
-<p>
-As a natural corollary to provincial councils, the prelates
-recommend frequent holding of diocesan synods. If the extent of
-the diocese will not permit the priests who obey the same bishop
-to unite yearly, the bishop should at least convoke a synod after
-each provincial or plenary council, to promulgate the decrees and
-provide for their observance. In the meantime, ecclesiastical
-conferences, organized in districts, can supply, at least partly,
-the place of the synod. The fathers express a wish that such
-conferences should meet quarterly in cities, and at least yearly
-in rural districts, where pastors cannot easily assemble.
-</p>
-<p>
-I pass hastily over some details to arrive immediately at a
-matter at once very delicate and important, that of
-ecclesiastical judgments. It is well known that the form required
-by canon law has become very difficult of application throughout
-the greater part of Christendom. The Council of Baltimore does
-not innovate. After an experience of ten years it feels bound to
-renew a decree made in the Council of St. Louis in 1855.
-[Footnote 141]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 141: That is to say, the Plenary Council, by its
-    enactment, extended this decree of the Provincial Council of
-    St. Louis to the other provinces.&mdash;ED. C. W.]
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Priests suspended by sentence of the ordinary have no right to
-  demand sustenance from him, since by their own fault they have
-  been rendered incapable of exercising their ministry. But, in
-  order to cut short all complaints, the fathers are of the
-  opinion that it is more expedient, in the cases of priests and
-  clerics, to adopt a form of trial approaching as nearly as
-  possible the requirements of the Council of Trent. The
-  bishop&mdash;or his vicar-general, by his order&mdash;shall choose in the
-  episcopal council two members&mdash;not always the same&mdash;who shall
-  serve him as counsellors, when the accused shall be called to
-  answer before him and his secretary.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_503">{503}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Together, these assistants shall have but one voice, but
-  either can range himself on the side of the prelate against his
-  colleague. If, however, both are of a different mind from that
-  of the bishop or his vicar, the latter may take into his
-  counsel a third, and that judgment shall be rendered to which
-  he shall incline. If it happen that all the consultors named by
-  the ordinary hold an opinion contrary to his, the case is to be
-  transferred to the tribunal of the metropolitan, who shall
-  weigh the motives for and against, and himself deliver
-  sentence. And if the process refers to a subject of the
-  metropolitan, and all his assistants are opposed to him, the
-  cause shall be evoked before the oldest bishop of the province,
-  and he shall have the right to decide, saving always the
-  privileges and authority of the Holy See."
-</p>
-<p>
-Here we see reappearing the jurisdiction of metropolitans, which
-in many other churches is little exercised at the present day. On
-the question of their authority the council furnishes another
-subject worthy of remark.
-</p>
-<p>
-In enumerating the rights of archbishops in reference to their
-ecclesiastical provinces, the fathers have designated but three:
-</p>
-<p>
-1. To make known to the holy see such of their suffragans as do
-not observe the laws of residence.
-</p>
-<p>
-2. To call the said suffragans to a provincial council, at least
-every three years.
-</p>
-<p>
-3. To have their cross borne before them in their province, and
-to wear the pallium therein on the days when they can wear it in
-their metropolitan church.
-</p>
-<p>
-The letter written from Rome for the correction of the acts
-orders two other privileges of metropolitans to be
-re-established:
-</p>
-<p>
-1. To supply what is negligently omitted by their suffragans in
-the cases determined by law; and
-</p>
-<p>
-2. to receive appeals from the sentence of their suffragans
-according to the canonical rules.
-</p>
-<p>
-If we do not deceive ourselves, there is in this correction a
-significant tendency.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  III.
-</p>
-<p>
-The manner of the election of bishops had already been determined
-by an instruction emanating from the Propaganda, dated March
-18th, 1834. Since that time, at the desire of councils, several
-changes and modifications had been made. This is the practice
-consecrated and universally established since 1861: Every three
-years, each bishop sends to his metropolitan and the congregation
-of the Propaganda the list of subjects whom he judges worthy of
-the episcopate, with detailed information of the qualities which
-distinguish them.
-</p>
-<p>
-A see becomes vacant, the bishops of the province meet in synod,
-or any other way, and discuss the aptitude of the candidates
-presented by each of them. After a secret examination, three
-names are sent to Rome with the <i>procès verbal</i> of this
-election. On the representation thus made, the sovereign pontiff
-designates the one to be promoted to the episcopal dignity.
-</p>
-<p>
-This portion of Christendom, still so new, has not yet had time
-to settle itself into regularly divided parishes. If our memory
-is faithful, we think there is no such thing as a parish,
-properly so called, in the whole United States. The prelates of
-the council express a desire to establish some, especially in the
-great cities; but they add that, in conferring them on the
-priests who administer them, they would not exempt the latter
-from removal; this never having, been the custom in America.
-</p>
-<p>
-Many of the dioceses have no seminaries. The fathers wish that,
-if they cannot be everywhere established, each province, at
-least, should have its own, for the formation of which the
-bishops will unite their resources. Following the custom adopted
-in France, they separate the Little Seminary, where boys who
-present the conditions required by the Council of Trent are
-received, from the Grand Seminary, where clerics study dogmatic
-and moral theology, canon law, hermeneutics, and sacred
-eloquence.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_504">{504}</a></span>
-The council orders the greatest efforts to be made in order to
-secure eminent professors. If there is an establishment common to
-an entire province, it should not be confined to teaching the
-mere elementary ecclesiastical studies, but a thorough course of
-exegesis and oriental languages should be commenced; and the
-modern systems of philosophy should be explained in such a manner
-that graduates should be able to resolve all the difficulties and
-objections of the day.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "We have now to contend," say the fathers, "no longer with the
-  often refuted heresies and errors of a bygone age, but with new
-  adversaries, unbelievers of a pagan rather than a Christian
-  character, with men who count as naught God and his divine
-  promises&mdash;and yet are not thereby prevented from having
-  cultivated minds. According to them, the things of heaven and
-  earth have no other meaning or value than that which reason
-  alone assigns them. Thus, they flatter pride, so deeply rooted
-  in our nature, and seduce those who are not on their guard. If
-  truth cannot persuade them, since they do not care to hear, it
-  must, at least, close their mouths, lest their vain discourse
-  and sounding words delude the simple." [Footnote 142]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 142: Act. tit. iii. p. 108.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Do not these sage reflections disclose the true plan for renewing
-ecclesiastical studies?
-</p>
-<p>
-We will not enter on the details of the rules established for the
-general life and manners of the clergy, according to their
-different functions. We confine ourselves to remarking that the
-chapter on preaching alone contains a complete little treatise on
-the proper manner of announcing the word of God in our times.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  IV.
-<p>
-Questions relating to church property attract the attention of
-the council. In order to comprehend the arrangements determined
-on in regard to this matter, we must form a correct idea of the
-situation in which the different Christian communions stand
-before the American civil law.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is well known that the legislation of most of the States is
-willing to accord legal personality to associations, commercial
-or religious. A religious society represented by trustees easily
-obtains incorporation; that is to say, is recognized as a person
-having the right to own property, to receive gifts and legacies,
-to a certain amount, generally far superior to what is necessary.
-If this sum is ever exceeded, it is easy to fulfil the
-requirements of the law by creating a new centre, building a new
-church.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nothing then would seem more favorable than these arrangements of
-American law. But, as they were conceived from a Protestant point
-of view, they recognize the parish only, and not the diocese,
-which is, nevertheless, the Catholic unit. Moreover, the
-trustees, invested with church property, have on several
-occasions made outrageous and extravagant pretensions. More than
-once, they have believed that they possessed the right of
-choosing their pastors, and dismissing them, if they did not
-suit; they have held that they at least have the right of
-presenting to the bishop a priest of their own choice, and thus
-forcing his consent. Hence, the frequent conflicts between the
-parochial element and the episcopal administration. The first
-Council of Baltimore formerly protested against this lay
-interference, which it declared contrary to the teaching of the
-church and the discipline of every age; it decided that the
-compensation assigned to members of the clergy, to be provided
-from the funds of the parish, or by the alms of the faithful,
-conferred on none the right of patronage.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_505">{505}</a></span>
-Subsequent councils return incessantly to the same question; and
-it has even appeared before the civil tribunals. In the diocese
-of New York, particularly, the disputes between the Catholic
-trustees and the bishop were prolonged with various results, but
-without interruption, from 1840 to 1863. Finally, an arrangement
-was concluded, and on this model the prelates wish to organize
-all ecclesiastical property.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Since, in the United States, it is permitted to every citizen
-  and foreigner to live freely and without molestation, according
-  to the precepts of the religion which he professes&mdash;for the
-  laws recognize and proclaim this right&mdash;nothing seems to hinder
-  us from observing, in all their rigor, the rules established by
-  councils and the sovereign pontiffs for the acquisition and
-  preservation of church property. The fathers, therefore, desire
-  to expose and set clearly before the eyes of the state the true
-  rights of the church with regard to accepting, possessing, and
-  defending sacred property, as, for example the land on which a
-  church is built, or presbyteries, schools, cemeteries, and
-  other establishments, in order that it may be legally permitted
-  to Catholic citizens to follow exactly the laws and
-  requirements of their church." [Footnote 143]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 143: Act. tit. iv. p. 117.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Hence, one of the principal dispositions of this legislation is,
-that the administrators of ecclesiastical property in parishes
-shall do nothing without the consent of the bishop. In order that
-this law may be observed, and that nothing more may be feared
-from the intervention of the secular tribunals, there is no other
-plan than for the bishop to place himself before the civil power,
-as having the right to the full administration of all property
-belonging to his church as a corporation sole. Some of the states
-have recognized this right for the future. In others it is not
-yet recognized. Hence they provide the best means for avoiding,
-or, at least, diminishing the inconvenience resulting from this
-state of things.
-</p>
-<p>
-This requires that mutual securities be taken on the part of the
-bishop and the trustees. As soon as appointed, the prelate will
-make a will, and place a duplicate in the hands of his
-metropolitan. Besides the property of which he is sole
-proprietor, he will be <i>ex-officio</i> president of all boards
-of trustees, who possess, in the eyes of the law, the parochial
-properties. Rules are established for the purpose of ensuring a
-conscientious choice of these, in order that they may not
-infringe on the rights of the parish priest, nor take any profit
-from the revenues of the church. Such are the principal measures
-relative to this important matter.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  V.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the chapter entitled <i>De Sacramentis</i> we notice the
-prudence which the council wishes to be used in administering
-baptism to Protestants returning to the Catholic Church. Although
-the greater portion of the sects regard what transpires at the
-baptismal font as a mere ceremony, and frequently, through
-carelessness, baptize invalidly, nevertheless the priest must not
-proceed hap-hazard, nor decide on general principles, but must in
-each case examine carefully into particulars. Only when certain
-of the nullity or probable invalidity of the baptism, can he
-confer the sacrament, either absolutely or conditionally.
-</p>
-<p>
-In France, discussions have lately arisen as to the proper age
-for administering the holy communion. Although the American child
-is much earlier developed than the European, the fathers of
-Baltimore establish as a rule that he shall not be urged at too
-early an age to present himself at the holy table.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_506">{506}</a></span>
-Ten and fourteen years are the two extreme limits to which one
-must ordinarily be confined. Nevertheless, this rule leaves room
-for all legitimate exceptions, and particularly, in case of
-danger of death, it would be a grave fault in the pastor who
-would not administer the eucharist to a child capable of
-discerning the grace which it contains.
-</p>
-<p>
-As their country is not a vine-growing land, and one can nowhere
-be fully certain of the purity of wines imported from Europe, the
-fathers express a desire to establish in Florida a community
-which shall be especially charged with the care of preparing the
-matter for the administration of the different sacraments, wine,
-oil, etc. This community can also keep swarms of bees, and
-furnish the different dioceses with pure waxen tapers. Meanwhile
-they caution priests to beware of using for the holy sacrifice
-the wines which are commonly sold under the names of port,
-sherry, Madeira, Malaga, and to choose, rather, Bordeaux,
-Sauterne, and others less subject to adulteration or fraudulent
-imitation. Moreover, as the culture of the vine progresses, it
-will be inexcusable to neglect having recourse to the products of
-the soil, or at least, not to have a moral certainty of the
-purity of the wines which are used.
-</p>
-<p>
-In districts where a few Catholic families find themselves, as it
-were, lost in the midst of Protestants, the scarcity of priests
-causes many children to remain unbaptized [Footnote 144] until
-after marriage; an <i>impedimentun dirimens</i> which renders the
-marriage null in the eyes of God and the church.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 144: The council referred not to unbaptized
-    children of Catholics, for such are not to be found among us,
-    but to unbaptized Protestants, or rather pagans, with whom
-    Catholics have contracted a civil marriage.&mdash;ED. C. W.]
-</p>
-<p>
-They live together in good faith, notwithstanding, and when the
-priest, discovering the radical fault, speaks to them of renewing
-their agreement, it frequently happens that the unbaptized party
-refuses to do it. The fathers unite in requesting from the holy
-see power to communicate to missionaries dispensations <i>in
-radice</i>, of which they can make use to rehabilitate such
-marriages.
-</p>
-<p>
-As preceding councils have remarked, it is certain that, in most
-of the provinces of the United States, the decree of the Council
-of Trent regarding clandestine marriages has not yet been
-promulgated. In some districts its promulgation is doubtful.
-Besides, to require the presence of a certain priest for the
-validity of a marriage appears to the fathers a measure attended
-with great inconvenience. They demand, therefore, in order to
-reassure consciences, and establish uniformity, to return
-everywhere, except in the province of New Orleans, to the ancient
-discipline, already universally in force. But the holy see has
-not seen fit to accede to this request, as appears from the
-answer addressed by the Propaganda to the <i>postulata</i> of the
-council.
-</p>
-<p>
-On other points uniformity is supremely desirable. For instance,
-the bishops earnestly desire it in that which pertains to
-Christian instruction and in prayer-books. A catechism is to be
-composed after that of Cardinal Bellarmine, adapted to the
-peculiar situation of Catholics in the United States. When this
-catechism has been approved by the holy see, it will be adopted
-in all the dioceses.
-</p>
-<p>
-As to prayer-books which do not bear the express approbation of
-the ordinary, they ought not to be found in the hands of the
-faithful.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_507">{507}</a></span>
-<p>
-The solicitude of the council here extends to various classes of
-people. Following the example of the apostle, they recommend to
-God those who govern; but the formulas of the church are alone to
-be employed in these prayers, and no one is to imitate certain
-sects and temples, wherein political passions and partisan rancor
-utter accents which dishonor God rather than contribute to his
-worship.
-</p>
-<p>
-No one will neglect any precaution to free Catholic soldiers and
-sailors from being obliged, against their conscience, to assist
-at the rites of dissenting sects. The orphans are an object of
-special solicitude. They must be gathered into the Catholic
-asylums which already exist or are yet to be built. This
-necessity is most pressing, and appeals to the charity of all who
-can provide against it.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  VI.
-</p>
-<p>
-An entire chapter is consecrated to regular orders of men and
-women. After recalling the immense advantages which their
-churches have derived from the labor of religious, the fathers
-state certain precautions which ought to be taken in order that
-foundations may be stable and not precarious. Circumstances do
-not always permit canonical erection or establishment in a
-permanent manner; hence, in the agreement made between the bishop
-and the religious community, this clause must hereafter be added,
-to wit, that the latter will not quit the parish, school,
-college, or congregation with which it is charged, without
-notifying the ordinary at least six months in advance. This
-relates only to diocesan work, properly so called, and not to
-that which the religious may take up of their own accord, without
-any obligation to continue.
-</p>
-<p>
-Bishops shall conform to the canonical laws, defending the rights
-and privileges of the religious whom they find in the territory
-submitted to their jurisdiction, and they will avoid giving them
-subjects of complaint, or motives for going elsewhere. Regulars
-and seculars work toward the same ends namely, the glory of God
-and the salvation of souls; hence, no dissension ought ever to
-arise between them, but harmony, unity, and fraternal love should
-ever reign supreme.
-</p>
-<p>
-The council passes a magnificent eulogium on those "sisters" who
-preserve, in their schools, the innocence of so many young
-virgins, and who, during the late war, have known how to turn
-public calamity to the glory of God and the advantage of
-religion.
-</p>
-<p>
-Who of the dissenting sects has not admired their zeal, charity,
-and patience in the hospitals, and may not say, "the finger of
-God is here"?
-</p>
-<p>
-Various measures were adopted to assure the observance of the
-rules of the church on the part of the religious. The fathers
-have heretofore consulted as to the nature of their sacred
-engagements. The answers received from Rome state that, in
-several specially designated monasteries of the Visitantines, the
-vows are solemn. [Footnote 145]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 145: These are the monasteries of Georgetown,
-    Mobile, Kaskaskia, St. Aloysius, and Baltimore. The solemnity
-    of the vows is there preserved according to rescripts
-    formerly obtained from Rome.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Henceforth, after the novitiate, simple vows are to be made, and
-ten years later the solemn profession will be permitted. As to
-other monasteries and religious houses, simple vows alone are
-permitted, except by special rescript from the holy see; the same
-rule applying to all convents of women which may be hereafter
-erected in the various dioceses of the United States. The fathers
-severely censure those who leave their monasteries and travel
-through the country, under pretext of collecting money for houses
-pressed with debt or for new foundations; they declare this to be
-an intolerable abuse and contrary to the true character of the
-religious life.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_508">{508}</a></span>
-<p>
-Everywhere, to-day, but in no country more than in America, the
-question of schools appears most important, and claims the most
-lively solicitude on the part of the episcopate.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here the council begins by firmly asserting the rights of the
-church. Jesus Christ said to his apostles, "Euntes docete,"
-"Going, teach all nations." Since that time, this utterance has
-been understood in the sense of a mission, to be fulfilled by
-instruction and the exercise of spiritual maternity toward all,
-but especially toward youth. Frequenting such public schools as
-exist in the United States offers a thousand dangers. There
-indifferentism reigns: corruption of morals is engendered in
-early youth; the habit of reading and reciting authors who attack
-religion and heap insults on the memory of saintly personages
-weakens the faith in the souls of the young, while association
-with vicious companions stifles virtue in their hearts. The only
-remedy is to create other institutions, to open further
-opportunities to Catholic youth. Parochial schools are highly
-recommended, as well as the sodalities or congregations which
-devote themselves to the instruction of the youth of either sex.
-</p>
-<p>
-While speaking of houses of refuge and correction, the fathers
-notice the numerous abductions of children which are daily made
-by the different sects. These are orphans, or disobedient
-children whom parents despair of managing. They are taken to
-places where their relatives can neither find nor hear from them,
-and their names are changed, so as not to recall them at some
-future day to their religion or family. Comfortably nourished,
-they are reared in the principles of heresy and in hatred of
-Catholicity. [Footnote 146] Moved with pity, several bishops have
-already opened houses to gather in these little unfortunates; the
-council desires them to be everywhere established; for if one
-ought to applaud the zeal of those who raise magnificent temples
-to God, much more should one praise those who prepare for him a
-spiritual dwelling of these precious and living stones.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 146: Acts have recently been passed in the
-    Legislature of New York which promise to be a very effectual
-    check to the most nefarious arts of these kidnappers in this
-    State.&mdash;ED. C. W.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Here follows a tribute of recognition of the services rendered by
-the various colleges and academies which already exist in the
-United States. The American establishments at Rome, at Louvain,
-and in Ireland, are now furnishing priests and missionaries. When
-will it be granted to the bishops to found a grand Catholic
-university, which will complete all the good accomplished by
-these institutions? Yet this is not merely a desire; it is
-ardently expressed by the council; we hope the future may bring
-about its speedy realization. [Footnote 147]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 147: Amen!&mdash;Ed. C. W.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The missions are one of the most efficacious means of procuring
-the salvation of souls. Regulars and seculars are alike called to
-this great work. The council demands that a house of missionaries
-be founded in each diocese, for giving spiritual exercises in the
-parishes, above all during Lent, Advent, at the time of first
-communions, and the episcopal visitations. The parish priests are
-to co-operate cordially with these auxiliaries, and if any refuse
-to do so, they will be constrained by their bishop. On the other
-hand, all precautions are taken to avoid any appearance of
-interestedness, and any interference in the parochial government
-on the part of the missionaries.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_509">{509}</a></span>
-<p>
-The idea of association, so popular at the present day, is
-essentially and originally Catholic. If some have used it against
-us, we know how to reclaim and avail ourselves of it. Hence, the
-fathers recommend the confraternities approved by the church,
-such as those of the Blessed Sacrament, the Sacred Heart, the
-Blessed Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, and the Holy Angels. They
-recommend the "Apostolate of Prayer," also, another pious
-association, which prays especially for the conversion of
-non-Catholics; they seek to develop the well-deserving
-undertakings of the "Propagation of the Faith" and "Holy
-Childhood;" they accord the highest praise to the
-arch-confraternity of St. Peter; finally, they add other works of
-piety and mercy, among them the "Society of St. Vincent de Paul,"
-so well adapted to our times, and which has already produced such
-great results.
-</p>
-<p>
-After this great encouragement, come restrictions no less called
-for. No new associations are to be created where ancient
-confraternities suffice. In case any priest desires to institute
-a new one, he must have a written permission from his bishop; the
-latter is forbidden to approve a new foundation unless he is sure
-that its means and aim are truly Catholic. It will be truly
-desirable to give such a character to the mutual aid societies
-to-day so numerous among the working classes.
-</p>
-<p>
-The welfare of the negroes greatly interests the American
-episcopate. What a harvest is here to be gathered among these
-poor souls, purchased by the blood of Jesus Christ, and so well
-prepared by their emancipation to listen to the Gospel. Heresy
-spares no effort to assure herself of possessing them&mdash;another
-reason for earnestly seconding the desire expressed by the
-Congregation of the Propaganda in this respect. But the measures
-adopted for this end cannot be everywhere the same, and general
-rules are, therefore, hard to determine. The negroes must have
-churches either in common with or separate from the other
-faithful; they must have schools, missions, orphan asylums.
-Laborers are wanting to this harvest. The superiors of religious
-orders are requested to designate some of their subjects for this
-purpose, and secular priests, who feel this to be their vocation,
-to fly to the succor of this class, so destitute and so
-interesting. As to particular measures, provincial councils will
-determine in those regions where the negroes are more numerous.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 VII.
-</p>
-<p>
-Books and journals exercise such a great influence on society,
-both for evil and for good, that they could not fail to be the
-object of a special decree. After noticing the disastrous effects
-of an immoral press, the prelates call on all the servants of
-Jesus Christ, especially those who are fathers of families, to
-rid their houses of all noxious and dangerous books. They do not
-hesitate in this instance to employ the severe words of the
-apostle, "If any man have not care of his own, and especially of
-those of his house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than
-an infidel." I Tim. v. 8. School-books must be carefully revised,
-expurgated, when necessary, and submitted to episcopal
-approbation. A sort of permanent committee is created for this
-purpose, composed of the superiors of three colleges existing in
-the arch-diocese of Baltimore.
-</p>
-<p>
-As to good books, their circulation should be favored as much as
-possible. It is desirable that associations should everywhere be
-formed, to employ themselves in this work. The fathers
-particularly recommend the "Catholic Publication Society" of New
-York, which has existed for some years, and has already done
-immense good. Committees in every city are to be formed, and
-affiliated to the central society, and collections are ordered to
-be made yearly for assisting this good work.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_510">{510}</a></span>
-<p>
-Prayer-books ought always to be examined by theologians, and none
-should be printed without the approbation of the ordinary. This
-has hitherto been only a wish; hereafter it shall be a law
-obliging all bishops.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among current periodicals there are many impious and immoral,
-some more tolerable, but very few deserving eulogy and full
-recommendation to the faithful. The prelates continue:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Journals edited or directed by Catholics indirectly
-  contributing to the advantage of religion, must exist. But for
-  fear lest the political opinions of the writers may be
-  attributed to ecclesiastical authority, or to Christianity
-  itself, as often happens, thanks to the bad faith of
-  adversaries, we desire that all should be duly warned not to
-  recognize any journal as <i>Catholic</i> unless it bears the
-  express approbation of the ordinary.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "In several dioceses, there are journals furnished with this
-  approbation, under one form or another, because the bishops
-  require them as a means of conveying their orders or ideas to
-  their clergy and people. Hence they are assumed to have an
-  official character, as if the voice of the pastor were to be
-  heard from every page and line. This is a misunderstanding,
-  although quite general, chiefly propagated by sectarians. From
-  it result grave and intolerable inconveniences. For, whatever
-  may be written by these editors, who may often be controlled by
-  passions private and political, is laid to the account of the
-  bishop, and seems to form a part of his pastoral teaching.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "In order that such a responsibility may cease to weigh upon
-  the episcopate, and in order clearly to set forth the relations
-  between the ordinary and the ecclesiastical journals, the
-  fathers declare that the approbation accorded by a bishop to a
-  Catholic journal merely signifies that he has found in it
-  nothing contrary to faith or morals; and that he hopes such
-  will be the case in future; and moreover, that the editors are
-  well-deserving men, and their writings useful and edifying. The
-  bishop, then, is only responsible for what appears in the paper
-  as his own teaching, counsel, exhortation or command; and for
-  this, only when signed with his own hand." (Act. tit. xi. p.
-  256.)
-</p>
-<p>
-They spoke of establishing a journal or review, solely devoted to
-the exposition and defence of Catholic dogma, of which the
-archbishops of Baltimore, New York, and perhaps other
-metropolitans with them, would have the ownership. The question
-was submitted by the council to the judgment of the ordinaries.
-</p>
-<p>
-If the fathers wish to be free from a solidarity often
-compromising, they none the less recognize the services of
-Catholic writers. The felicitations which they address to them
-are borrowed from the pontifical allocution of April 20th, 1849,
-and from the letters apostolic of February 12th, 1866.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 VIII.
-</p>
-<p>
-The church has frequently uttered severe condemnations of secret
-societies, engaged in acts forbidden by religion and justice.
-After having recalled to mind and published anew these
-condemnations, the fathers add that they do not see any reason
-for applying them to societies of artisans which have no other
-object than the mutual support and protection of people of the
-same calling.
-</p>
-<p>
-These must not favor the practices of condemned sects, nor
-proceed contrary to equity and the rights of patrons. No one must
-regard as even tolerated, associations which demand of those
-entering an oath to do whatever the chiefs command, or which
-would maintain an inviolable secrecy in the face of lawful
-questioning. If there be doubt of the nature of an association,
-the holy see must be consulted. No person, however high his
-ecclesiastical dignity, ought to condemn any society which does
-not fall under the censures of the apostolical constitutions.
-[Footnote 148]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 148: At the request of certain bishops, this decree
-    was to be suppressed. It was re-established in acts according
-    to directions from Rome.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_511">{511}</a></span>
-<p>
-In the thirteenth chapter, the bishops request the erection of
-fifteen new episcopal sees; to wit, four in the province of
-Baltimore, seven in that of St. Louis, one in each of the
-provinces of Cincinnati, Oregon, San Francisco, and New York.
-They also desire the churches of Philadelphia and Milwaukee to be
-raised to metropolitan dignity. Excepting this last demand, this
-chapter has met favorable reception at Rome; and at the present
-moment, America counts twelve new bishoprics or vicarates
-apostolic.
-</p>
-<p>
-We will not speak of the pastoral letter addressed by the bishops
-of the council to the faithful of their dioceses. It was
-published at the time in many French journals. Moreover, it
-merely recapitulates the measures and decrees which ought to be
-brought to the knowledge of all the Catholic populations. In it
-one perceives the accent of ardent zeal for the salvation of
-souls. Amid the felicitations which they address to their flock,
-the American prelates mingle cries of sorrow at the sight of the
-abuses which still exist and the souls which are lost. A warm
-appeal is made to families to favor the development of
-ecclesiastical vocations; in this country, more than in any other
-in the world, the harvest is immense, and arms alone are often
-wanting to gather it.
-</p>
-<p>
-As to the relations between the church and the state, the fathers
-declare that, apart from a few brief instances of over-excitement
-and madness, the attitude taken by the civil power and its
-non-interference in religious matters is a matter for
-congratulation; they complain only of its not according the
-necessary guarantees for church property, according to ancient
-canons and discipline. But several States have already done what
-is reasonable in this respect; it is hoped that others will soon
-follow their example.
-</p>
-<p>
-Such is the incomplete but at least faithful <i>résumé</i> of the
-decrees of this great assembly. In reading, one is struck with
-the wisdom and prudence which characterize them. After the divine
-assistance, certainly not denied to so holy an undertaking, one
-here finds something of that American good sense, eminently exact
-and practical, which, in dealing with lofty things, seizes them
-principally by their positive side, and, without losing sight of
-principles, adapts them always to times and circumstances.
-</p>
-<p>
-If doctrine is greatly represented in this volume, pure theory
-occupies but a small space. Above everything else the council has
-wished to be a work of organization. No less remarkable for what
-it has not said than for what it has said, it seems to embody the
-device of the poet, "Semper ad eventum festinat;" no superfluous
-details, no useless erudition; all bears the seal of a
-legislation soberly but firmly motived, wherein nothing is
-omitted which can enlighten and convince the mind, and nothing
-allowed to lengthen a text by right short, or to complicate a
-simple matter; a majestic monument, of simple and severe
-proportions, art seems therein neglected, but is by no means
-wanting.
-</p>
-<p>
-If it were permissible in presence of so great a work to recur to
-a secondary detail, we would say that pupils of the seminaries,
-in studying these acts, will find in them a model of that
-beautiful Latinity unfortunately too rare in theological
-treatises.
-</p>
-<p>
-Their task ended, the prelates had only to congratulate
-themselves on the success obtained. After having announced to
-their children that they would be more fully notified of the
-result in provincial councils and diocesan synods, they have been
-able to add, with lawful pride, that they expect all manner of
-good from the practical organization given for the future to the
-churches of this vast continent.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_512">{512}</a></span>
-<br>
-        <h2>The Legend of St. Thomas.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-And it came to pass, in those days, that Thomas abode at
-Jerusalem. And in a dream the Lord appeared to him, and said,
-Behold, Gondaphorus, who ruleth in India, hath sent Abbas his
-servant into Syria, that he may find men skilful in the art of
-building. Go thou, therefore, and I will show thee unto him. But
-Thomas answered, and said, Lord, suffer me not to go into India.
-But the Lord answered, and said to him, Fear not, but rise up and
-depart; for behold, I am with thee, and when thou shalt have
-converted the nations of India, thou shalt come to me, and I will
-give unto thee the recompense of thy reward. And when Thomas
-heard this, he said, Thou art my Lord and I am thy servant. Let
-it be as thou hast said. And he went his way.
-</p>
-<p>
-And it came to pass that as Abbas, the servant of Gondaphorus the
-king, stood in the market-place, the Lord met him, and said,
-Young man, what seekest thou? And Abbas answered, and said,
-Behold, my master hath sent me hither, that I might bring to him
-cunning workmen who shall build for him a palace like unto those
-that are in Rome. And when he had spoken these things, the Lord
-showed unto him Thomas, as that skilful and cunning workman whom
-he sought.
-</p>
-<p>
-And straightway Thomas the apostle, and the servant of
-Gondaphorus the king, departed. And as they journeyed, the word
-of the Lord spake by the mouth of Thomas, and great multitudes of
-the Gentiles were converted and baptized. And when they came to
-Aden, which lieth at the going in of the Red Sea, they tarried
-many days.
-</p>
-<p>
-And departing thence, they came into the coasts of India. And
-behold, there was a marriage in that city, and both Thomas and
-Abbas were called to the marriage. And the whole city was with
-them. And while they rejoiced together, behold, Thomas spake to
-the people the word of the Lord, and wrought many mighty works
-before them all, so that great multitudes believed and were
-baptized. And the daughter of the king, (whose feast it was,) and
-her husband, and the king also, were among them. And this was
-she, who, after a long time, was called Pelagia, and took the
-holy veil, and suffered martyrdom. But the bridegroom was called
-Denis, and became the bishop of that city.
-</p>
-<p>
-And going from thence, they departed, and came to Gondaphorus the
-king. And to him was Thomas the apostle brought, as a cunning
-workman, skilled in all manner of building. And the king
-commanded him to build for him a royal palace, and gave him vast
-treasures wherewith to build it, and having done this, he went
-into another country.
-</p>
-<p>
-And it came to pass, that when Thomas received the treasure of
-the king, he put not his hand to the palace of the king, but went
-his way throughout the kingdom, for the space of two years,
-preaching the Gospel, healing the sick, and giving his treasures
-to the poor.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_513">{513}</a></span>
-<p>
-And after the space of two years, Gondaphorus the king returned
-into his own city, and when he had asked concerning his palace,
-Thomas answered, and said, Behold, O king! the palace is builded;
-but thou shalt dwell therein only in the world that is to come.
-Then was the king exceeding wroth, when he had heard these
-things, and commanded his soldiers to cast Thomas into prison,
-and to flay him alive, and afterward to burn his body with fire.
-</p>
-<p>
-And it came to pass, that in those days Syd, the brother of
-Gondaphorus, died, and the king commanded them to prepare for him
-a goodly sepulchre. And on the fourth day, as they made
-lamentation over him, behold, he that was dead sat up and began
-to speak. And they were sore affrighted and amazed. But he said
-to the king, Behold, O king! he whom thou hast commanded to be
-flayed and burned is the friend of God. For lo! the angels of
-God, who serve him, took me into paradise, and showed to me a
-palace adorned with gold and silver and precious stones. And when
-I was astonished at its beauty, one cried out to me, and said,
-Behold, this is the palace which Thomas has builded for the king,
-thy brother. But he has become unworthy; yet, if thou thyself
-wouldst dwell therein, we will beseech the Lord, that thou mayest
-live again and redeem it of thy brother by paying unto him the
-treasure he has lost.
-</p>
-<p>
-And when Gondaphorus had heard these things, he was sore afraid.
-And he straightway ran to the prison, and came in unto the
-apostle, and smote off his chains. And bringing a royal robe, he
-would have put it on him. But Thomas answering, said, Knowest
-thou not, O king! that those who would have power in heavenly
-things care not for that which is carnal and earthly? And when he
-had said this, the king fell down at his feet, confessing his
-sins. And Thomas baptized both him, and his brother, and all his
-house, and said to them, In heaven there are many mansions,
-prepared from the foundation of the world. But these are
-purchased only by faith and almsgiving. Your riches are able to
-go before you into these heavenly habitations, but thither they
-can never follow you.
-</p>
-<p>
-And after these things, Thomas arose and departed, and came into
-all the kingdoms of India, preaching the Gospel, and doing many
-mighty miracles. And all the nations of India believed and were
-baptized, hearing his words, and seeing the wonders which he did.
-</p>
-<p>
-And it came to pass that Mesdeus the king heard thereof. And when
-Thomas came into his country, he laid hands upon him, and
-commanded him to adore his idols, even the images of the Sun,
-which he had made. And Thomas answered, and said, Let it be even
-as thou hast said, if at my word the idol bow not its head into
-the dust. And when he had said this, the idol fell down prostrate
-to the earth.
-</p>
-<p>
-And there arose a great sedition among the people, and the
-greater part stood with Thomas. But the king was exceeding angry,
-and cast him into prison, and delivered him up to the soldiers,
-that they might put him to death. And the soldiers, taking him,
-led him forth to the top of a mountain over against the city. And
-when he had prayed a long time, they pierced him with their
-spears, and, falling down, he yielded up the ghost. And his
-disciples, which stood by, wept for him with many tears, and,
-taking up his body, they wound it in precious spices, and laid it
-in a tomb. But the church grew and waxed mightily, and Siforus
-the priest, and Zuganes the deacon, whom Thomas had ordained as
-he went forth to die on the mountain, taught in his stead.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_514">{514}</a></span>
-<p>
-Such is the legend of St. Thomas, as recited in the name of
-Abdias of Babylon, "bishop and disciple," [Footnote 149] in his
-"<i>ten</i> books upon the conflicts of the apostles." Whatever
-we may think of the individual events therein detailed, the great
-outline of the story has much intrinsic probability, and is of no
-slight interest to the student of Christian history. Especially
-is this so in the present age, when the vast and mystic East
-opens her gates once more to the knock of the evangelist, and
-when the whole Christian world is agitated with a missionary zeal
-which must be comparatively fruitless, unless guided by a
-knowledge of the people whom it approaches, and of the religious
-traditions with which it must combat or agree. It is our
-intention in this article to suggest some of the chief facts in
-the ecclesiastical annals of these unknown lands, and to trace,
-so far as we may be able, the dogmatic genealogy of those
-religious notions with which the Gospel has been, and will be,
-there forced to contend.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 149: Abdias of Babylon, to whom is ascribed the
-    work mentioned in the text, is accounted among the
-    ecclesiastical writers of the first age. He was a Jew by
-    birth, and one of the seventy disciples of our Lord. He went
-    with SS. Simon and Jude into Persia, and by them was made
-    bishop of Babylon. The work which bears his name was first
-    printed in the year 1532. Its alleged authorship, on account
-    of its citations, and for some other reasons, has generally
-    been denied by the learned. On this point the present writer
-    ventures no opinion, although convinced that the tradition,
-    as contained in <i>The Legend of St. Thomas</i>, is
-    substantially true, and has existed in the same general
-    outline from the earliest periods of Christian history.]
-</p>
-<p>
-In the legend which we have repeated, and the discussion of which
-will occupy the present article, the scene of the labors of St.
-Thomas is laid in India. The tradition that he preached in
-Parthia and other countries of the east, and that he perished by
-martyrdom, is nearly as old as Christianity itself. All of the
-early writers are agreed that his apostolic province lay north
-and east of Palestine, and that the Persians, Bactrians,
-Scythians, and other kindred nations were entrusted to his
-spiritual care. But in regard to the particular regions over
-which he travelled, and the extent of his missionary efforts, as
-embraced in modern geographical divisions, there appears to be no
-small discrepancy between them. Thus, while certain ancient
-authors ascribe to him the evangelization of the entire East,
-Socrates and Theodoret expressly state that the Gospel was not
-preached in India till the fourth century, when Frumentius
-carried thither the knowledge of the true faith, and established
-a mission, of which he himself became the bishop; while some
-extend his wanderings to the Ganges, or even to the Celestial
-empire itself, others limit him within the eastern boundary of
-Persia, and place his death and burial-place near the city of
-Edessa, less than two hundred miles north-east from Antioch.
-</p>
-<p>
-Much of this apparent disagreement, however, is explained away by
-the acknowledged ambiguity of the phrases under which these
-different countries were anciently described. "India" and
-"Ethiopia" seem to have been terms as loosely applied in that age
-as "the East," in Europe, and "the West," in America, are today;
-and it is not at all unlikely that, as has been the case with the
-latter phrase in this country, the application of the former was
-gradually changed as their nearer frontiers became better known,
-and were localized under distinct and peculiar names. The India
-of Socrates and Theodoret may or may not embrace the districts
-included in the India of Gaudentius and Sophronius; and each, in
-his historic statement, may be entirely accurate in fact, though
-contradictory to the others in his language.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_515">{515}</a></span>
-<p>
-Moreover, in those early ages kingdoms were less known than
-nations. The ancients spoke of "Persians," "Romans," "Jews,"
-"Egyptians," rather than of the countries in which they were
-supposed to dwell; while in our day, on the contrary, the
-explorations of geography have rendered the regions far more
-definite than the nations which inhabit them. For this reason,
-what would be comparatively a safe guide to any given locality in
-modern usage, would be far less reliable in writings of a
-thousand years ago. Thus we may well dismiss whatever doubts this
-seeming disagreement at first sight throws around the
-post-scriptural account of this apostle, or at least hold it in
-abeyance, to be obliterated if subsequent investigations should
-disclose sufficient evidence of the toils and triumphs of St.
-Thomas in the vast empires of oriental Asia.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is in this <i>generic</i> sense of the terms that "India" and
-"the Indies" are employed by the author of this legend, and under
-the singular as well as under the plural name are included many
-kingdoms through which the apostle travelled, from that in which
-he preached the Gospel at the nuptials of a king to that in which
-he found the mountain of his martyrdom. Each of these seems to
-have had its own court and king, and to have been so far
-independent of the others that the same religion which was
-maintained and promulgated by the state in one, was persecuted
-and condemned by the rulers of the other. It is not, therefore,
-to these names that we can look with any confidence of finding
-such vestiges of the apostle's footsteps as shall afford us a
-definite clue to the countries or the nations which enjoyed the
-fruits of his laborious love.
-</p>
-<p>
-Such, however, is not the case with the name of King Gondaphorus
-to whom particularly, according to the legend, the mission of St.
-Thomas was directed. Until within a few years, the age, the
-residence, even the existence of this personage has been matter
-of serious controversy. The opinion most commonly received among
-the learned was, that "Gondaphorus" was a corruption of "Gun
-dishavor" or "Gondisapor," a city built by Artaxerxes, and
-deriving its name from Sapor or Schavor, the son and successor of
-its founder. [Footnote 150] As the city could have acquired this
-title only in the fourth century, this, among other reasons, has
-generally led historians to deny the substantial authenticity of
-the legend itself, and to regard it as the fabrication of some
-later age.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 150: Gundisapor was the episcopal and metropolitan
-    city of the province of Sarac, situated on the Tigris, six
-    leagues from Susa. It is said to have been built by
-    Hormisdas, the contemporary of the Emperor Constantine, and
-    to have been called by the name of Sapor, his son, by whom it
-    was afterward immensely enriched and beautified with the
-    treasures which he ravished from the Roman empire.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Recent investigations among Indian antiquities have thrown new
-light upon this subject, and, in this particular, at least, seem
-to have cleared the legend from all suspicions of fraud. Among
-the many coins and medals lately discovered in the East are those
-of the Indo-Scythian kings who ruled in the valley of the Indus
-about the beginning of our present era. One of these kings bore
-the name of "Gondaphorus," and pieces of his coinage are now said
-to be preserved in different collections of Paris and the East.
-[Footnote 151] This striking corroboration, in the nineteenth
-century, of a tradition which, in one shape or another, has been
-current in the Christian world for eighteen hundred years, can
-hardly fail to satisfy the most critical examiner that the legend
-ascribed to Abdias is, in its grand outline, entitled to a far
-higher degree of credit than it has been accustomed lately to
-receive.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 151: Vide <i>Le Christianisme en Chine</i>, etc.,
-    par M, Huc. Paris, 1857, p. 28, etc.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_516">{516}</a></span>
-<p>
-The course of the apostle and his companion toward the east, so
-far as this tradition and its modern limitations have defined it,
-may thus be traced. Leaving Jerusalem, they journeyed by the
-usual route to the Red Sea, and thence along the coasts of Arabia
-Petraea and Arabia Felix to Aden, then, as now, a city of much
-commercial importance, on account of its excellent harbor and
-commanding situation. Here they remained for a considerable
-period of time, the apostle preaching the Gospel and laying
-foundations on which other men might build. Embarking thence,
-they sailed around the southern borders of the Arabian peninsula,
-and, crossing the Gulf of Oman, landed at one of the then
-flourishing cities near the mouths of the Indus. After some
-delay, of which St. Thomas made good use in the service of the
-Gospel, they pushed north-easterly into the interior to the
-immediate province of King Gondaphorus, where, after the labors
-of two years, the apostle brought the monarch and his family
-under obedience to the yoke of Christ. His special work thus
-accomplished, St. Thomas travelled into many other kingdoms on
-the same divine errand, and terminated his devoted and fruitful
-life by holy martyrdom. Thus far, the legend; and that it agrees
-with and is in fact the interpreter of all other traditions of
-St. Thomas, as well as of those various monuments which, until
-recently, have been unknown as teachers of Christian history,
-will shortly be made manifest.
-</p>
-<p>
-The holy apostle, having once established Christianity in those
-parts of India which lie nearest to Jerusalem, would naturally
-extend his journey into more distant regions, rather than retrace
-his steps, and occupy, as his field of labor, a territory to
-which the Gospel would, without his intervention, probably be
-soon proclaimed. For, having in himself powers plenipotentiary
-for the organization and perpetuation of the church, wherever he
-might plant it, and being assured, as a Christian and disciple,
-that the zeal and perseverance of his fellow-workers might safely
-be entrusted with the conversion of the nations adjacent to the
-centres of Christian doctrine, it was simply manlike, simply
-apostolic, for him to set his face steadfastly toward those who,
-but for him, might not in many generations obtain the light of
-faith. If, therefore, the footsteps which we have already traced
-be genuine, we may with reason look for traces of the same
-unwearied feet in other and still more unknown lands.
-</p>
-<p>
-And herein also, the traditions of the early ages will not
-disappoint us. Still reckoning by nations, rather than by
-kingdoms, the ancient writers tell us that St. Thomas preached
-the Gospel to the Parthians, Medes, Persians, Hyrcanians,
-Bactrians, Germanians, Seres, Indians, and Scythians. Thus in a
-fragment of St. Dorotheus, (A.D. 254,) "The apostle Thomas,
-having announced the Gospel to the Parthians, Medes, Persians,
-Germanians, Bactrians, and Mages, suffered martyrdom at Calamila,
-a city of India." Theodoret, speaking of the universality of the
-preaching of the apostles, says, "They have caused, not only the
-Romans, and those who inhabit the Roman empire, but the
-Scythians, &hellip; the Indians, &hellip; the Persians, the Seres, and the
-Hyrcanians to receive from them the law of the Crucified."
-Origen, and from him Eusebius, relates that St. Thomas received
-Parthia as his allotted sphere; and Sophronius mentions that he
-planted the faith among the Medes, Persians, Carmanians,
-(Germanians,) Hyrcanians, Bactrians, and other nations of the
-extreme east. Both the latter and St. Gaudentius declare that he
-suffered at Calamina in India.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_517">{517}</a></span>
-<p>
-The same traditions are faithfully preserved among the Christians
-of India. In the breviary of the Church of Malabar, it is stated
-that St. Thomas converted the Indians, Chinese, and Ethiopians,
-and that these different nations, together with the Persians,
-offer their adorations to God in commemoration of this devoted
-apostle, from whom their forefathers received the truth of
-Christ. The presumption of fact, which arises out of such a mass
-of testimony as these and other witnesses which might be quoted
-offer us, existing for so many ages and in countries so widely
-separated from each other, is surely sufficient to justify a
-careful study of the localities to which these different nations
-belonged, as indicative of the later and more extended missionary
-labors of St. Thomas.
-</p>
-<p>
-According to the best authorities on the subjects of ancient
-geography and ethnology, all the various territories which were
-inhabited by the nations whose conversion has been attributed to
-St. Thomas lie east of the Euphrates, and, with the single
-exception of the Scythians, below the fortieth parallel of
-latitude. The Medes occupied the districts between the Caspian
-and Persian seas. The Hyrcanians lay on the south-east of the
-Caspian, the Parthians and the Bactrians lying east of them; and
-all three being included in the present Turkistan. The Persians
-held the northeastern borders of the Persian Gulf, next to the
-kingdom of the Medes; the Germanians, or Carmanians, lying next
-on the south-east, in part of what is now known as Beloochistan,
-and the lower corner of modern Persia. The "Seres" was a name
-given to the Chinese in the earliest historic ages, and embraced
-the vast and cultivated people who dwell beyond the Emodi, or
-Himalaya, mountains, and east of the sources of the Indus. The
-Indians and Scythians&mdash;the former occupying from the Indian Ocean
-and the latter from the Arctic zone&mdash;met together between the
-Bactrians and the Seres, and formed the Indo-Scythian races of
-the ante-Christian age. Calamila, or Calamina, the city near
-which the apostle finally rested from his labors, is on the
-eastern coast of Hindostan, a short distance from Madras, and has
-been known, at different periods, by the names of Meliapour,
-Beit-Thoma, and St. Thomas.
-</p>
-<p>
-The connection of these ancient nations and countries with, and
-their successive propinquity to, each other enables us to form a
-tolerably correct idea of the course of the apostle's missionary
-work, from the baptism of Gondaphorus to the close of his own
-career. For although our guide is simply the intrinsic
-probability which grows out of the nature of the workman and the
-work God had appointed him to do, yet, to whoever takes the map
-of the various regions which we have described as the scenes of
-the apostolic life and death, it will appear that one of two
-courses must have been adopted. The first starts from the valley
-of the Indus, and, leading westward, reaches in turn the
-Germanians, Persians, and Medes; then, turning toward the north
-and flexing eastward by the southern border of the Caspian Sea,
-it penetrates the land of the Hyrcanians, Parthians, Bactrians,
-Indo-Scythians, and Seres; where, again met by the upper Indus,
-it bends southward, and, striking through the heart of Hindostan,
-ends in the lower portion of the peninsula at or near Madras.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_518">{518}</a></span>
-The second, beginning at the same point, follows up the Indus in
-a path directly opposite to the former, until the place of
-departure is again reached and the final journey through modern
-India begins. It is scarcely possible to say which of these two
-routes is most probably correct. Future researches may throw
-light upon the extent of the region over which King Gondaphorus
-reigned, upon the relation of the dialects of these bordering
-nations to each other, and thus afford a clue to the more exact
-path of the apostle. But in either case, the districts over which
-he travelled, and the races into contact with whom he carried the
-Gospel, are distinguished with a high degree of certainty, and
-the triumphs of the cross under his leadership may thus be
-clearly understood.
-</p>
-<p>
-Indeed, the work of scarce any apostle of the twelve can now be
-better followed than that of Thomas. The chief indefiniteness
-attaches to his mission to the Seres; for here little is extant
-to show, with any great conclusiveness, whether his labors
-terminated with the borders of Indo-Scythia, or penetrated to the
-Yellow Sea. Some monuments of antiquity have, it is true, been
-found, which point strongly to the spreading of the Gospel over a
-large part of China by primitive if not by apostolic
-missionaries; but nothing has as yet been discovered which would
-justify the conclusion that St. Thomas actually attempted the
-evangelization of that immense and thickly-populated empire. If
-such had been the case, it is hardly possible that India should
-have received him back again, and given him the distant Calamina
-for his martyrdom.
-</p>
-<p>
-The area of territory over which the apostle Thomas must thus
-have journeyed embraces over three million two hundred and fifty
-thousand square miles, and the people to whom he opened the doors
-of heaven, through the Gospel, numbered more than two hundred
-millions of souls. The linear distance of his own personal
-travels probably exceeded ten thousand miles, and this, for the
-most part, necessarily on foot. The consideration of these facts,
-and of the results which followed from the apostle's labors, will
-give us some idea of the work which our Divine Lord committed to
-his immediate disciples, and of the untiring zeal and superhuman
-endurance with which they were endowed. It has become far easier
-for us to say, "The Lord hath shortened his hand," than to go and
-do likewise.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet it is still true that Thomas was an apostle; that it was the
-will of the Master that all nations should at once almost receive
-some knowledge of his Gospel; that the miraculous gift of tongues
-swept out of the way one of the greatest obstacles to missionary
-labor; and that St. Thomas had received the gifts of faith and
-charity to such a degree as enabled him to co-operate, to the
-utmost, with the graces of his work. And it is also true that,
-had not he and the others of the twelve been such as they were
-and accomplished what they did, the promises of Christ would have
-been unfulfilled, and the church have suffered from their failure
-to its latest day. But in that they were <i>apostles</i>, in that
-they did their work, the seed of the Gospel can scarcely fall,
-to-day, on soil which has not been already watered by the blood
-of martyrs, or among people in whom it has not, long ago, sprung
-up and brought forth fruit abundantly.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_519">{519}</a></span>
-<p>
-There were, however, in the case of St. Thomas, other and natural
-reasons why his work should have been so vast and his success so
-extraordinary. The facility of intercourse between the east and
-the west was far greater in his day than in our own. The
-successive conquests of Alexander had led him beyond the present
-western boundary of China. The Roman empire, at the beginning of
-our era, reached beyond the Euphrates, and the intimate
-connection of part with part, and the ease of intercourse between
-the imperial city and the farthest military outpost, can scarcely
-be exaggerated. [Footnote 152] Up to the seventh century, this
-unity continued to a great degree unbroken, and will account not
-only for the presence of the minister of Gondaphorus in Jerusalem
-and for the results which followed it, but for the diffusion and
-preservation of the traditions which have handed down those
-events to us.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 152: De Quincey's <i>Caesars</i>. (Introduction.)]
-</p>
-<p>
-Nor was this unity altogether that of conquest. Beyond the empire
-of Augustus lay the realms of Porus, of whom history relates that
-he held six hundred kings beneath his sway. Between these
-emperors there seem to have been two formal attempts at an
-intimate political alliance. Twenty-four years before the birth
-of Christ, an embassy from Porus followed Augustus into Spain,
-upon this errand, and another some years afterward met with him
-at Samos. In the reigns of Claudius, Trajan, Antoninus Pius, and
-succeeding emperors, the same royal courtesies were interchanged,
-and it was not until the Mussulman power, sweeping like a sea of
-fire between the east and the west, became an impassable barrier
-to either, that these relations had an end.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nearly the same may be said of commercial unity. The trade in
-silk, from which substance the Seres, or Chinese, derived their
-name, was carried on between the Romans and that distant nation
-on no inconsiderable scale. Numerous caravans perpetually
-journeyed to and fro through the wilds of Parthia and along the
-southern border of the Caspian Sea; while the Erythrean, Red and
-Mediterranean waters glittered with sails from almost every land.
-The whole inhabited world (if we except this continent, the date
-of whose first settlement no one can tell) was thus
-providentially brought close together, and a higher degree of
-unity and association established between its different nations
-than had existed since the dispersion at Babel, or than has now
-existed for over twelve hundred years.
-</p>
-<p>
-How vast an advantage to apostolic labor this unity must have
-been can easily be seen. While it removed almost entirely the
-difficulties of travel, it assured for the traveller both safety
-and good-will upon the way. While it conciliated in advance the
-people among whom they labored, it gave weight and human
-authority to the Gospel, when actually preached. And, when the
-church had been established and little colonies of Christians
-marked the track of the apostles, it enabled them to maintain a
-constant intercourse with their spiritual children by messengers
-or by epistles, and to keep watch and ward over the millions
-entrusted to their care.
-</p>
-<p>
-Those prophetic traditions of a coming Saviour, which pervaded
-the east, as well as the south and west, also effected much
-toward the rapid spread and wide espousal of Christian truth. The
-origin of these traditions is shrouded in the mystery of an
-unchronicled antiquity. They may be attributed to the promise in
-paradise, to the transfusion of Mosaic teachings, or to direct
-revelation by means of pagan oracles. But that they existed, in a
-clear and well-defined prophetic form, is established beyond
-question; while that they were in the first instance of divine
-disclosure, it becomes no Christian to deny.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_520">{520}</a></span>
-The learned and contemplative minds of Asia especially delighted
-in this state of expectation. Sons of a soil whereon the feet of
-God had trodden in primeval days, the very atmosphere around them
-still throbbed with the echoes of that voice which walked in Eden
-in the cool of the day. The mountains that overlooked them had
-aforetime walled in the garden of the Lord from a dark and
-half-developed world. The deserts of their meditations lay like a
-pall above the relics of those generations to whom the deluge
-brought the judgment wrath of God. Children of Sem, the eldest
-son of Noah, it had been theirs to see, even more clearly than
-God's chosen Israel, the coming of the Incarnate to the world, as
-it was also theirs to win from heaven the first tidings of his
-birth through the glowing orient star.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among the many forms which this tradition assumed, there is one
-so beautiful and so theologically accurate, that we cannot omit
-to cite it here. While the swan of Mantua, on the banks of father
-Tiber, chanted the glories of the golden age, a Hindoo poet, on
-the borders of the Ganges, thus painted to the wondering eyes of
-Indian kings the grand event in which the disorders and miseries
-of that present age should have an end:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Then shall a Brahmin be born in the city of Sambhala. This
-  shall be Vishnu Jesu. To him shall the divine scriptures and
-  all sciences unfold themselves, without the use of so much time
-  in their investigation as is necessary to pronounce a single
-  word. Hence shall be given to him the name of Sarva Buddha, as
-  to one who fully knoweth all things. Then shall Vishnu Jesu,
-  dwelling with his people, perform that work which he alone can
-  do. He shall purge the world from sin; he shall set up the
-  kingdom of truth and justice; he shall offer the sacrifice; &hellip;
-  and bind anew the universe to God. &hellip; But when the time of
-  his old age draws nigh, he shall retire into the desert to do
-  penance; and this is the order which Vishnu Sarva shall
-  establish among men. He shall fix virtue and truth in the midst
-  of the Brahmins, and confine the four castles within the
-  boundaries of their laws. Then shall return the primeval age.
-  Then sacrifice shall be so common that the very wilderness
-  shall be no more a solitude. Then shall the Brahmins, confirmed
-  in goodness, occupy themselves only in the ceremonies of
-  religion; they shall cause penance, and all other graces which
-  follow in the path of truth, to flourish, and shall spread
-  everywhere the knowledge of the holy scriptures. Then shall the
-  seasons succeed each other in unbroken order; the rains, in
-  their appointed time, shall water the earth; the harvest, in
-  its turn, shall yield abundance; the milk shall flow at the
-  wish of those who seek it; and the whole world, being
-  inebriated with prosperity and peace, as it was in the
-  beginning, all nations shall enjoy ineffable delights."
-  [Footnote 153]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 153: <i>Le Christianisme en Chine</i>, p. 5.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The well-known policy of St. Paul, who, preaching on Mars' hill
-to the Athenians, seized the inscription on their altar, "To the
-unknown God," as the text of his most memorable sermon, is a
-divine endorsement of the important part which God intended that
-these far-reaching revelations should play in the conversion of
-the world. St. Thomas, in the east, had but to repeat the
-announcement, Him whom ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto
-you. He, for whom you have waited&mdash;he, Vishnu Jesu, has already
-come; his wisdom and his counsels I reveal to you.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_521">{521}</a></span>
-<p>
-And among the clear-thoughted and pure-hearted sages of the east,
-among the Magi of Persia, the Brahmins of India, and the
-philosophers of China, among such as those who at the mere
-bidding of a voiceless star followed it to the world's end&mdash;to
-the cave of Bethlehem&mdash;these declarations of the apostle must
-have been the signal of salvation. In them there were no
-prejudices to wipe away, no new and strange ideas to be espoused.
-The Gospel was not to them, as to the Jews, the subversion of
-anticipated glory. It was the realization of expectation, the
-golden day which had so long shot gleams of light into the
-darkness of their iron age. And so it was that, while Judea could
-give to Christianity but simple fishermen, or at most a ruler of
-the synagogue, India and the orient thought not too highly of her
-kings and sages to yield them up to Vishnu Jesu, and offered on
-his altars the wealth of all her realms.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the year 1521, certain excavations taking place under the
-ruins of a large and ancient church at Meliapour, there were
-found, in a sepulchre, at a great depth beneath the surface of
-the earth, the bones of a human skeleton, in a state of
-remarkable whiteness and preservation. With them were also found
-the head of a lance, still fastened in the wood, the fragments of
-an iron-shod club, and a vase of clay filled with earth. Some
-years later, near the same spot, an attempt was made by the
-Portuguese to build a chapel; and in digging for the foundations,
-the workmen came upon a monumental stone on which was sculptured
-a cross, some two feet long by eighteen inches wide, rudely
-ornamented and surrounded by an inscription in characters which,
-to the discoverers, were totally unknown. The authorities of
-Meliapour, being desirous to ascertain the meaning of the letters
-engraved around this cross, made diligent search among the native
-scholars for an interpreter, and finally obtained one in the
-person of a Brahmin of a neighboring city. His translation was as
-follows:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Thirty years after the law of the Christians appeared to the
-  world, on the 25th of the month of December, the apostle St.
-  Thomas died at Meliapour, whither he had brought the knowledge
-  of God, the change of the law, and the overthrow of devils. God
-  was born of the Virgin Mary, was obedient to her during thirty
-  years, and was the eternal God. God unfolded his law to twelve
-  apostles, and of these, one came to Meliapour, and there
-  founded a church. The kings of Malabar, of Coromandel, of
-  Pandi, and of other different nations, submitted to the
-  guidance of this holy Thomas, with willing hearts, as to a
-  devout and saintly man." [Footnote 154]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 154: <i>Le Christianisme en Chine</i>, p. 26.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The same inscription was afterward laid before other oriental
-scholars, each of whom, without conference or collusion with the
-rest, offered the same rendering of this forgotten tongue.
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus, again do the discoveries of later ages verify the
-traditions of early Christian history. That SS. Dorotheus,
-Sophronius, and Gaudentius possessed reliable evidence for their
-statement that St. Thomas died at Calamina, we can no longer
-doubt. That the original framer of "The Legend of St. Thomas"
-recited events which, in his day, were well known, and could be
-easily substantiated, is almost beyond dispute. The wondrous
-tales of heroism, built out of the deeds of martyrs and apostles
-and evangelists are not all foolish dreams. The "Legends of the
-Saints" are not, as the wiseacres of the day would lead us to
-believe, altogether idle words.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_522">{522}</a></span>
-Men, who could traverse sea and land, without companions, without
-aid, converting nations, building churches, founding hierarchies,
-setting their faces ever farther on, looking for no human
-sympathy, having no mother-country, toiling for ever toward the
-martyr's crown, were not the men to fabricate childish stories,
-full of false visions and falser miracles. Nor were those who
-stood day by day on the brink of doom; who, in the morning, woke
-perhaps to meet the lions, perhaps the stake, but certainly the
-burden of the cross of Christ; who lay down at night without hope
-of day, the men to listen to wild tales of falsehood from some
-cunning tongue. Traditions of those early days were all too often
-written in blood. They come to us sealed with the lives of
-saints. They have stood the test of ages of investigation. They
-remain, to-day, monuments, engraved in many languages, and on
-many lands, asserting the achievements of our fathers, while
-modern science adds to ancient story the corroboration of her
-undeniable deductions, and vindicates the traditions of Christian
-antiquity both from the sneers and the indifference of
-self-exalted men.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is almost needless to remark, as the conclusion of this
-sketch, that modern missionaries, who would rival the success of
-St. Thomas, can fairly expect it from no less exertion, no less
-singleness of heart. Those who from this or other countries sally
-forth, with missionary societies behind them to supply their
-needs, burdened with the double cares of family and church, with
-boards of directors at home, as well as consciences within, to
-satisfy, with a support to some extent conditioned on their
-apparent success, can scarcely be expected to compete with him
-who, bidding farewell to home and friends, goes out alone,
-wifeless and childless, looking to God for everything, and
-seeking nothing but an endless crown. The history of missions
-proves, by indisputable statistics, which of these two methods is
-effective, which has borne with it the divine prestige of
-success, and which remains, in spite of persecutions and
-oppressions, vigorous and undismayed after the conflicts of
-eighteen hundred years. If it were a simple question of policy,
-between the Catholic Church and her opponents, the event would
-indicate her wisdom. If it were one of precedent, she has the
-whole apostolic college, and the missionaries of fifteen
-centuries upon her side. But if the touchstone of the Master be
-still reliable, and we may know his workmen by their fruits, then
-does this history of the great missionary church bear witness,
-that not only her vocation but her operations are divine, and may
-assure her children, that, though heaven and earth should fail,
-no jot or tittle of her power or triumph can ever pass away. The
-throne of Peter may be smitten by the thunderbolt of war; the
-hoary head of his successor may be bowed with grief; the triple
-crown may once more be trampled under the feet of men; the
-faithful may again be overwhelmed with fear; but, in the far
-wilderness, beyond the glittering deserts, across the frozen and
-the burning seas, her sons are gathering strange nations to her
-bosom, over whom, in her coming days of victory and peace, she
-may renew her joy.
-</p>
-<p>
-For the same Lord who bade her go into the whole world and teach
-all his commandments gave, in the same breath, its people to her
-baptism; and he who promised her the nations for her inheritance,
-and the uttermost parts of the earth for her possession, was the
-same God who said to St. Peter, "Super hanc petram aedificabo
-ecclesiam meam, et porta inferi non prevalebunt."
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_523">{523}</a></span>
-<br>
-          <h2>Beethoven, His Boyhood.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">
-                  I.
-</p>
-<p>
-One October afternoon, in 1784, a boat was coming down the Rhine
-close to that point where the city of Bonn sits on its left
-shore. The company on board consisted of old and young persons of
-both sexes, returning from an excursion of pleasure.
-</p>
-<p>
-The company landed full of gayety and mirth, the young people
-walking on before, while their seniors followed. They adjourned
-to a public garden, close on the river side, to finish the day of
-social enjoyment by partaking of a collation. Old and young were
-seated ere long around the stone table set under the large trees.
-The crimson faded in the west, the moon poured her soft light
-glimmering through the leafy canopy above them, and was reflected
-in full beauty in the waters of the Rhine.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your boys are merry fellows," said a benevolent-looking old
-gentleman, addressing Herr van Beethoven, a tenor singer in the
-electoral chapel, pointing at the same time to his two sons, lads
-of ten and fourteen years of age. "But tell me, Beethoven, why
-did you not bring Louis with you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Because," answered the person he addressed, "Louis is a
-stubborn, dogged, stupid boy, whose troublesome behavior would
-only spoil our mirth."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah!" returned the old gentleman, "you are always finding fault
-with the poor lad, and perhaps impose too hard tasks upon him. I
-am only surprised that he has not, ere this, broken loose from
-your sharp control."
-</p>
-<p>
-"My dear Simrock," replied Beethoven, laughing, "I have a remedy
-at hand for his humors&mdash;my good Spanish cane, which, you see, is
-of the toughest. Louis is well acquainted with its excellent
-properties, and stands in wholesome awe thereof. And trust me,
-neighbor, I know best what is for the boy's good. Carl and Johann
-are a comfort to me; they always obey me with alacrity and
-affection. Louis, on the other hand, has been bearish from his
-infancy. As to his studies, music is the only thing he will
-learn&mdash;I mean with good will; or, if he consents to apply himself
-to anything else, I must first knock it into him that it has
-something to do with music. <i>Then</i> he will go to work; but
-it is his humor not to do it otherwise. If I give him a
-commission to execute for me, the most arrant clodpoll could not
-be more stupid about it."
-</p>
-<p>
-Here the conversation was interrupted, and the subject was not
-resumed. The hours flew lightly by. It struck nine, and the
-festive company separated to return to their homes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Carl and Johann were in high glee as they went home. They sprang
-up the steps before their father, and pulled the door-bell. The
-door was opened, and a boy about twelve years old stood in the
-entry with a lamp in his hand. He was short and stout for his
-age, but a sickly paleness, more strongly marked by the contrast
-of his thick black hair, was observable on his face. His small,
-gray eyes were quick and restless in their movement, very
-piercing when he fixed them on any object, but softened by the
-shade of his long, dark lashes. His mouth was delicately formed,
-and the compression of the lips betrayed both pride and sorrow.
-It was Louis Beethoven.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_524">{524}</a></span>
-<p>
-He came to meet his parents, and bade them "Good-evening."
-</p>
-<p>
-His mother greeted him affectionately. His father said, while the
-boy busied himself fastening the door, "Well, Louis, I hope you
-have finished your task."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have, father."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Very good; to-morrow I will look and see if you have earned your
-breakfast." So saying, the elder Beethoven went into his chamber.
-His wife followed him, after bidding her sons good night, Louis
-more tenderly than any of them. Carl and Johann withdrew with
-their brother to their common sleeping apartment, entertaining
-him with a description of their day of festivity. "Now, Louis,"
-said little Johann, as they finished their account, "if you had
-not been such a dunce, our father would have taken you along; but
-he says he thinks that you will be little better than a dunce all
-the days of your life, and self-willed and stubborn besides."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Don't talk about that any more," answered Louis, "but come to
-bed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, you are always a sleepy-head!" cried they both, laughing;
-but in a few moments after getting into bed both were asleep and
-snoring heartily.
-</p>
-<p>
-Louis took the lamp from the table, left the apartment softly,
-and went up-stairs to an attic chamber, where he was wont to
-retire when he wished to be out of the way of his teasing
-brothers. He had fitted up the little room for himself as well as
-his means permitted. A table with three legs, a leathern chair,
-the bottom partly out, and an old piano which he had rescued from
-the possession of the rats and mice, made up the furniture, and
-here, in company with his beloved violin, he was accustomed to
-pass his happiest hours.
-</p>
-<p>
-The boy felt, young as he was, that he was not understood by one
-of his family, not even excepting his mother. She loved him
-tenderly, and always took his part when his father found fault
-with him; but she never knew what was passing in his mind,
-because he never uttered it. But his genius was not long to be
-unappreciated.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next morning a messenger came from the elector to Beethoven's
-house, bringing an order for him to repair immediately to the
-palace, and fetch with him his son Louis. The father was
-surprised; not more so than the boy, whose heart beat with
-undefined apprehension as they entered the princely mansion. A
-servant was in waiting, and conducted them, without delay or
-further announcement, to the presence of the elector, who was
-attended by two gentlemen.
-</p>
-<p>
-The elector received old Beethoven with great kindness, and said,
-"We have heard much, recently, of the extraordinary musical
-talent of your son Louis. Have you brought him along with you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Beethoven replied in the affirmative, stepped back to the door,
-and bade the boy come in.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come nearer, my little lad," cried the elector graciously; "do
-not be shy. This gentleman here is our new court organist, Herr
-Neefe; the other is the famous composer, Herr Yunker, from
-Cologne. We promised them both they should hear you play
-something."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_525">{525}</a></span>
-<p>
-The prince bade the boy take his seat and begin, while he sat
-down in a large easy-chair. Louis went to the piano, and, without
-examining the pile of notes that lay awaiting his selection,
-played a short piece, then a light and graceful melody, which he
-executed with such ease and spirit, nay, in so admirable a
-manner, that his distinguished auditors could not forbear
-expressing their surprise, and even his father was struck. When
-he left off playing, the elector arose, came up to him, laid his
-hand on his head, and said encouragingly, "Well done, my boy! we
-are pleased with you. Now, Master Yunker," turning to the
-gentleman on his right hand, "what say you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your highness," answered the composer, "I will venture to say
-the lad has had considerable practice with that last air to
-execute it so well."
-</p>
-<p>
-Louis burst into a laugh at this remark. The others looked
-surprised and grave. His father darted an angry glance at him,
-and the boy, conscious that he had done something wrong, became
-instantly silent.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And pray what were you laughing at, my little fellow?" asked the
-elector.
-</p>
-<p>
-The boy colored and looked down as he replied, "Because Herr
-Yunker thinks I have learned the air by heart, when it occurred
-to me but just now while I was playing."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then," returned the composer, "if you really improvised that
-piece, you ought to go through at sight a motive I will give you
-presently."
-</p>
-<p>
-Yunker wrote on a paper a difficult motive, and handed it to the
-boy. Louis read it over carefully, and immediately began to play
-it according to the rules of counterpoint. The composer listened
-attentively, his astonishment increasing at every turn in the
-music; and when at last it was finished, in a manner so spirited
-as to surpass his expectations, his eyes sparkled, and he looked
-on the lad with keen interest, as the possessor of a genius
-rarely to be found.
-</p>
-<p>
-"If he goes on in this way," said he in a low tone to the
-elector, "I can assure your highness that a very great
-contrapuntist may be made out of him."
-</p>
-<p>
-Neefe observed with a smile, "I agree with the master; but it
-seems to me the boy's style inclines rather too much to the
-gloomy and melancholy."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is well," replied his highness, smiling; "be it your care
-that it does not become too much so. Herr van Beethoven," he
-continued, addressing the father, "we take an interest in your
-son, and it is our pleasure that he complete the studies
-commenced under your tuition, under that of Herr Neefe. He may
-come and live with him after to-day. You are willing, Louis, to
-come and live with this gentleman?"
-</p>
-<p>
-The boy's eyes were fixed on the ground; he raised them and
-glanced first at Neefe and then at his father. The offer was a
-tempting one; he would fare better and have more liberty in his
-new abode. But there was his <i>father!</i> whom he had always
-loved; who, in spite of his severity, had doubtless loved him,
-and who now stood looking upon him earnestly and sadly. He
-hesitated no longer, but, seizing Beethoven's hand and pressing
-it to his heart, he cried, "No, no! I can not leave my father."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are a good and dutiful lad," said his highness. "Well, I
-will not ask you to leave your father, who must be very fond of
-you. You shall live with him, and come and take your lessons of
-Herr Neefe; that is our will. Adieu! Herr van Beethoven."
-</p>
-<p>
-From this time Louis lived a new life. His father treated him no
-longer with harshness, and even reproved his brothers when they
-tried to tease him. Carl and Johann grew shy of him, however,
-when they saw what a favorite he had become.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_526">{526}</a></span>
-Louis found himself no longer restrained, but came and went as he
-pleased; he took frequent excursions into the country, which he
-enjoyed with more than youthful pleasure, when the lessons were
-over. His worthy master was astonished at the rapid progress of
-his pupil in his beloved art.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But, Louis," said he one day, "if you would become a great
-musician, you must not neglect everything besides music. You must
-acquire foreign languages, particularly Latin, Italian, and
-French. Would you leave your name to posterity as a true artist,
-make your own all that bears relation to your art."
-</p>
-<p>
-Louis promised, and kept his word. In the midst of his playing he
-would leave off, however much it cost him, when the hour struck
-for his lessons in the languages. So closely he applied himself,
-that in a year's time he was tolerably well acquainted not only
-with Latin, French, and Italian, but also with the English. His
-father marvelled at his progress not a little; for years he had
-labored in vain, with starvation and blows, to make the boy learn
-the first principles of those languages. He had never, indeed,
-taken the trouble to explain to him their use in the acquisition
-of the science of music.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1785, appeared Louis' first sonatas. They displayed uncommon
-talent and gave promise that the youthful artist would, in
-future, accomplish something great, though scarcely yet could be
-found in them a trace of that gigantic genius whose death forty
-years afterward filled all Europe with sorrow.
-</p>
-<p>
-"We were both mistaken in the lad," Simrock would say to old
-Beethoven. "He abounds in wit and odd fancies, but I do not
-altogether like his mixing up in his music all sorts of strange
-conceits; the best way, to my notion, is a plain one. Let him
-follow the great Mozart, step by step; after all, he is the only
-one, and there is none to come up to him&mdash;none!" And Louis'
-father, who also idolized Mozart, always agreed with his neighbor
-in his judgment, and echoed, "None!"
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-It was a lovely summer afternoon about 1787; numerous boats with
-parties of pleasure on board were passing up and down the Rhine;
-numerous companies of old and young were assembled under the
-trees in the public gardens, or along the banks of the river,
-enjoying the scene and each other's conversation, or partaking of
-the rural banquet.
-</p>
-<p>
-At some distance from the city, a wood bordered the river; this
-wood was threaded by a small and sparkling stream, that flung
-itself over a ledge of rocks, and tumbled into the most romantic
-and quiet dell imaginable, for it was too narrow to be called a
-valley. The trees overhung it so closely that at noonday this
-sweet nook was dark as twilight, and the profound silence was
-only broken by the monotonous murmur of the stream.
-</p>
-<p>
-Close by the stream half sat, half reclined, a youth just
-emerging from childhood. In fact, he could hardly be called more
-than a boy; for his frame showed but little development of
-strength, and his regular features, combined with an excessive
-paleness, the result of confinement, gave the impression that he
-was even of tender years. His eyes would alone have given him the
-credit of uncommon beauty; they were large, dark, and so bright
-that it seemed the effect of disease, especially in a face that
-rarely or never smiled.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_527">{527}</a></span>
-<p>
-A most unusual thing was a holiday for the melancholy lad. His
-whole soul was given up to one passion&mdash;the love of music. Oh!
-how precious to him were the moments of solitude. He had loved,
-for this, even his poor garret room, meanly furnished, but rich
-in the possession of one or two musical instruments, whither he
-would retire at night, when released from irksome labor, and
-spend hours of delight stolen from slumber. But to be alone with
-nature, in her grand woods, under the blue sky, with no human
-voice to mar the infinite harmony&mdash;how did his heart pant for
-this communion! His breast seemed to expand and fill with the
-grandeur, the beauty, of all around him. The light breeze
-rustling in the leaves came to his ear laden with a thousand
-melodies; the very grass and flowers under his feet had a
-language for him. His spirits, long depressed and saddened,
-sprang into new life, and rejoiced with unutterable joy.
-</p>
-<p>
-The hours wore on, a dusky shadow fell over foliage and stream,
-and the solitary lad rose to leave his chosen retreat. As he
-ascended the narrow winding path, he was startled by hearing his
-own name; and presently a man, apparently middle-aged and dressed
-plainly, stood just in front of him. "Come back, Louis," said the
-stranger, "it is not so dark as it seems here; you have time
-enough this hour to return to the city." The stranger's voice had
-a thrilling though melancholy sweetness; and Louis suffered him
-to take his hand and lead him back. They seated themselves in the
-shade beside the water.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have watched you for a long while," said the stranger.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You might have done better," returned the lad, reddening at the
-thought of having been subjected to espionage.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Peace, boy," said his companion; "I love you, and have done all
-for your good."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You love me?" repeated Louis, surprised. "I have never met you
-before."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yet I know you well. Does that surprise you? I know your
-thoughts also. You love music better than aught else in the
-world; but you despair of excellence because you cannot follow
-the rules prescribed."
-</p>
-<p>
-Louis looked at the speaker with open eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your masters also despair of you. The court-organist accuses you
-of conceit and obstinacy; your father reproaches you; and all
-your acquaintance pronounce you a boy of tolerable abilities,
-spoiled by an ill disposition."
-</p>
-<p>
-The lad sighed.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The gloom of your condition increases your distaste to all
-studies not directly connected with music, for you feel the need
-of her consolations. Your compositions, wild, melancholy as they
-are, embody your own feelings, and are understood by none of the
-connoisseurs."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who are you?" cried Louis in deep emotion.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No matter who I am. I come to give you a little advice, my boy.
-I compassionate, yet I revere you. I revere your heaven-imparted
-genius. I commiserate the woes those very gifts must bring upon
-you through life."
-</p>
-<p>
-The boy lifted his eyes again; those of the speaker seemed so
-bright, yet withal so melancholy, that he was possessed of a
-strange fear. "I see you," continued the unknown solemnly,
-"exalted above homage, but lonely and unblessed in your
-elevation. Yet the lot of such is fixed; and it is better,
-perhaps, that one should consume in the sacred fire than that the
-many should lack illumination."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not understand you," said Louis, wishing to put an end to
-the interview.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_528">{528}</a></span>
-<p>
-"That is not strange, since you do not understand yourself," said
-the stranger. "As for me, I pay homage to a future sovereign!"
-and he suddenly snatched up the boy's hand and kissed it. Louis
-was convinced of his insanity.
-</p>
-<p>
-"A sovereign in art," continued the unknown. "The sceptre that
-Haydn and Mozart have held shall pass without interregnum to your
-hands. When you are acknowledged in all Germany for the worthy
-successor of these great masters&mdash;when all Europe wonders at the
-name of <i>Beethoven</i>&mdash;remember me.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But you have much ground to pass over," resumed the stranger,
-"ere you reach that glorious summit. Reject not the aid of
-science, of literature; there are studies now disagreeable that
-still may prove serious helps to you in the cultivation of music.
-Contemn not <i>any</i> learning: for art is a coy damsel, and
-would have her votaries all accomplished! Above all&mdash;<i>trust
-yourself</i>. Whatever may happen, give no place to despondency.
-They blame you for your disregard of rules; make for yourself
-higher and vaster rules. You will not be appreciated here; but
-there are other places in the world; in Vienna&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! if I could only go to Vienna," sighed the lad.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You <i>shall</i> go there, and remain," said the stranger; "and
-there too you shall see me, or hear from me. Adieu, now&mdash;<i>auf
-Wiedersehen</i>." ("To meet again.")
-</p>
-<p>
-And before the boy could recover from his astonishment the
-stranger was gone. It was nearly dark, and he could see nothing
-of him as he walked through the wood. He could not, however,
-spend much time in search; for he dreaded the reproaches of his
-father for having stayed out so late. All the way home he was
-trying to remember where he had seen the unknown, whose features,
-though he could not say to whom they belonged, were not
-unfamiliar to him. It occurred to him at last, that while playing
-before the elector one day a countenance similar in benevolent
-expression had looked upon him from the circle surrounding the
-sovereign. But known or unknown, the "auf Wiedersehen" of his
-late companion rang in his ears, while the friendly counsel sank
-deep in his heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-Traversing rapidly the streets of Bonn, young Beethoven was soon
-at his own door. An unusual bustle within attracted his
-attention. To his eager questions the servants replied that their
-master was dying. Shocked to hear of his danger, Louis flew to
-his apartment. His brothers were there, also his mother, weeping;
-and the physician supported his father, who seemed in great pain.
-</p>
-<p>
-Louis clasped his father's cold hand, and pressed it to his lips,
-but could not speak for tears.
-</p>
-<p>
-"God's blessing be upon you, my son!" said his parent. "Promise
-me that throughout life you will never forsake your brothers. I
-know they have not loved you as they ought; that is partly my
-fault; promise me, that whatever may happen you will continue to
-regard and cherish them."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I will&mdash;I will, dear father!" cried Louis, sobbing. Beethoven
-pressed his hand in token of satisfaction. The same night he
-expired. The grief of Louis was unbounded.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a bitter thing thus to lose a parent just as the ties of
-nature were strengthened by mutual appreciation and confidence;
-but it was necessary that he should rouse himself to minister
-support and comfort to his suffering mother.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-        To Be Continued.
-</p>
-<hr>
-
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_529">{529}</a></span>
-
-        <h2>Lecky On Morals.</h2>
-
-		<p class="center_close">
-		[Footnote 155]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 155: <i>History of European Morals, from Augustus
-    to Charlemagne</i>. By William Edward Hartpoole Lecky, M.A.
-    London: Longmans, Green & Co. 1869. 2 vols. 8vo.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky divides his work into five chapters. The first chapter
-is preliminary, and discusses "the nature and foundations of
-morals," its obligation and motives; the second treats of the
-morals of the pagan empire; the third gives the author's view of
-the causes of the conversion of Rome and the triumph of
-Christianity in the empire; the fourth the progress and
-deterioration of European morals from Constantine to Charlemagne;
-and the fifth the changes effected from time to time in the
-position of women. The author does not confine himself strictly
-within the period named, but, in order to make his account
-intelligible, gives us the history of what preceded and what has
-followed it; so that his book gives one, from his point of view,
-the philosophy and the entire history of European morals from the
-earliest times down to the present.
-</p>
-<p>
-The subject of this work is one of great importance in the
-general history of the race, and of deep interest to all who are
-not incapable of serious and sustained thought. Mr. Lecky is a
-man of some ability, of considerable first or second hand
-learning, and has evidently devoted both time and study to his
-subject. His style is clear, animated, vigorous, and dignified;
-but his work lacks condensation and true perspective. He dwells
-too long on points comparatively unimportant, and repeats the
-same things over and over again, and brings proofs after proofs
-to establish what is mere commonplace to the scholar, till he
-becomes not a little tedious. He seems to write under the
-impression that the public he is addressing knows nothing of his
-subject, and is slow of understanding. He evidently supposes that
-he is writing something very important, and quite new to the
-whole reading world. Yet we have found nothing new in his work,
-either in substance or in presentation, nothing&mdash;not even an
-error or a sophism&mdash;that had not been said, and as well said, a
-hundred times before him; we cannot discover a single new fact,
-or a single new view of a fact, that can throw any additional
-light on European morals in any period of European history. Yet
-we may say Mr. Lecky, though not an original or a profound
-thinker, is above the average of English Protestant writers, and
-compiles with passable taste, skill, and judgment.
-</p>
-<p>
-We know little of the author, except as the author of the book
-before us, and of a previous work, on <i>Rationalism in
-Europe</i>, and we have no vehement desire to know anything more
-of him. He belongs, with some shades of difference, to a class
-represented, in England, by Buckle, J. Stuart Mill, Frank Newman,
-and James Martineau; and of which the <i>Westminster Review</i>
-is the organ; in France, by M. Vacherot, Jules Simon, and Ernest
-Renan; and, in this country, by Professor Draper, of this city,
-and a host of inferior writers. They are not Christians, and yet
-would not like to be called anti-Christians; they are judges, not
-advocates, and, seated on the high judicial bench, they
-pronounce, as they flatter themselves, an impartial and final
-judgment on all moral, religious, and philosophical codes, and
-assign to each its part of good, and its part of evil.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_530">{530}</a></span>
-They aim to hold an even balance between the church and the
-sects, between Christian morals and pagan morals, and between the
-several pagan religions and the Christian religion, all of which
-they look upon as dead and gone, except with the ignorant, the
-stupid, and the superstitious. Of this class Mr. Lecky is a
-distinguished member, though less brilliant as a writer than
-Renan, and less pleasing as well as less scientific than our own
-Draper.
-</p>
-<p>
-The writers of this class do not profess to break with Christian
-civilization, or to reject religion or morals, but strive to
-assert a morality without God, and a Christianity without Christ.
-They deny in words neither God nor Christ, but they find no use
-for either. They deny neither the possibility nor the fact of the
-supernatural, but find no need of it and no place for it. They
-concede providence, but resolve it into a fixed natural law, and
-are what we would call naturalists, if naturalism had not
-received so many diverse meanings. In their own estimation, they
-are not philosophers, moralists, or divines, but really gods, who
-know, of themselves, good and evil, right and wrong, truth and
-error, and whose prerogative it is to judge all men and ages, all
-moralities, philosophies, and religions, by the infallible
-standard which each one of them is, or has in himself. They are
-the fulfilment of the promise of Satan to our mother Eve, "Ye
-shall be as gods."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky, in his preliminary chapter, on the nature and
-foundation of morals, refutes even ably and conclusively the
-utilitarian school of morals, and defends what he calls the
-"intuitive" school. He contends that it is impossible to found
-morals on the conception of the useful, or on fears of punishment
-and hopes of reward; and argues well, after Henry More, Cudworth,
-Clark, and Butler, that all morality involves the idea of
-obligation, and is based on the intuition of right or duty; or,
-in other words, on the principle of human nature called
-conscience. But this, after all, is no solution of the problem
-raised. There is, certainly, a great difference between doing a
-thing because it is useful, and doing it because it is right; but
-there is a still greater difference between the intuitive
-perception of right and the obligation to do it. The perception
-or intuition of an act as obligatory, or as duty, but is not that
-which makes it duty or obligatory. The obligation is objective,
-the perception is subjective. The perception or intuition
-apprehends the obligation, but is not it, and does not impose it.
-The intuitive moralists are better than the utilitarians, in the
-respect that they assert a right and a wrong independent of the
-fact that it is useful, or injurious, to the actor. But they are
-equally far from asserting the real foundation of morals;
-because, though they assert intuition or immediate perception of
-duty, they do not assert or set forth the ground of duty or
-obligation. Duty is debt, is an obligation; but whence the debt?
-whence the obligation? We do not ask why the duty obliges, for
-the assertion of an act as duty is its assertion as obligatory;
-but why does the right oblige? or, in other words, why am I bound
-to do right? or any one thing rather than another?
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky labors hard to find the ground of the obligation in
-some principle or law of human nature, which he calls conscience.
-But conscience is the recognition of the obligation, and the
-mind's own judgment of what is or is not obligatory; it is not
-the obligation nor its creator.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_531">{531}</a></span>
-This mistake proceeds from his attempt to found morals on human
-nature as supreme law-giver, and is common to all moralists who
-seek to erect a system of morals independent of theology. Dr.
-Ward, in his work on <i>Nature and Grace</i>, commits the same
-mistake in his effort to find a solid foundation in nature of
-duty, without rising to the Creator. All these moralists really
-hold, as true, the falsehood told by Satan to our first parents,
-"Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil;" that is, in order
-to know good or evil ye shall not need to look beyond your own
-nature, nor to recognize yourselves as subject to, or dependent
-on, any authority above or distinct from it. It is the one
-fundamental error that meets us in all Gentile philosophy, and
-all modern philosophy and science, speculative, ethical, or
-political, that holds itself independent of God. The schoolmen
-understood by morals, when the term means duty, or anything more
-than manners and customs, what is called Moral Theology, or the
-practical application of speculative and dogmatic theology to the
-offices of life, individual, domestic, and social or political.
-Natural morality meant that portion of man's whole duty which is
-prescribed by the natural law and promulgated by reason, as
-distinguished from revelation. They based all morals on the great
-principle of theology, and therefore they called theology the
-queen of the sciences. We have made no advance on them.
-</p>
-<p>
-In morals, three things&mdash;first, the obligation; second, the
-regula or rule; third, the end&mdash;are essential, and must be
-carefully distinguished. Why am I bound to do one thing rather
-than another? that is, why am I bound at all? What am I bound to
-do, or to avoid? For what end? These three questions are
-fundamental and exhaustive. The intuitionists hold that all
-morals involve the idea or conception of duty; but they omit to
-present the reason or ground of duty or obligation, and therefore
-erect their moral fabric without any foundation, and make it a
-mere castle in the air. They confound conscience with obligation,
-and the rule or law with the reason or motive for observing it.
-Suppose we find in human nature the rule or law; we cannot find
-in it either the obligation or the motive, for the simple reason
-that human nature is not independent, is not sufficient for
-itself, does not belong to itself, and has in itself neither its
-origin nor its end, neither its first nor its final cause. The
-rule&mdash;<i>regula</i>&mdash;is the law, and the law prescribes what is
-to be done and what is to be avoided; but it does not create the
-obligation nor furnish the motive of obedience. Mr. Lecky himself
-maintains that it does not, and is very severe upon those who
-make an arbitrary law the ground of moral distinctions, or the
-reason of duty. The law does not make the right or the wrong. The
-act is not right because commanded, nor wrong because prohibited;
-but it is commanded because it is right, and prohibited because
-it is wrong. Whence then the obligation? or, what is it that
-transforms the right into duty? This is the question that the
-independent or non-theological moralists, no matter of what
-school, do not and cannot answer.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is no answer, unless we give up the godship of man, give
-Satan the lie, and understand that man is a dependent existence;
-for an independent being cannot be bound or placed under the
-obligation of duty, either by his own act or by the act of
-another. If man is dependent, he is created, and, if created, he
-belongs to his Creator; for the maker has a sovereign right to
-that which he makes.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_532">{532}</a></span>
-It is his act, and nothing is or can be more one's own, than
-one's own act. Man, then, does not own himself; he owes himself,
-all he is, and all he has, to his Creator. As it has pleased his
-Creator to make him a free moral agent, capable of acting from
-choice, and with reference to a moral end, he is bound to give
-himself, by his own free will, to God to whom he belongs; for his
-free will, his free choice, belongs to God, is his due; and the
-principle of justice requires us to give to every one his due, or
-what is his own.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here, then, in man's relation to God as his creator, is the
-ground of his duty or obligation. It grows out of the divine
-creative act. Deny the being of God, deny the creative act, deny
-man is the creature of God, and you deny all obligation, all
-duty, and therefore, according to Mr. Lecky's own doctrine, all
-morals.
-</p>
-<p>
-The irrational cannot morally bind the rational. All men are
-equal, and no man, no body of men has, or can have, a natural
-right to bind or govern another. Only the Creator obliges, as the
-owner of the creature; and if I owe myself, all I am and all I
-have, to God, I owe nothing to another in his own right, and only
-God has any right over me, or to me. Here is at once the basis of
-obligation and of liberty, and the condemnation of all tyranny
-and despotism. From this, it clearly follows that every system of
-morals that rests on nature, the state, or any thing created, as
-its foundation, is not and of itself cannot be obligatory upon
-any one, and that without God as our creator, and whose we are,
-there is and can be no moral obligation or duty whatever.
-Pantheism, which denies the creative act, and atheism, which
-denies God, both alike deny morals by denying its basis or
-foundation. Either is fatal to morals, for obligation is only the
-correlative of the right to command. Having found the ground of
-obligation, and shown why we are morally bound, the next thing to
-be considered is the rule by which is determined what we are
-bound to do, and what we are bound to avoid. Mr. Lecky makes this
-rule conscience, which, though he labors to prove that it is
-uniform and infallible in all ages and nations, and all men, he
-yet concedes varies in its determinations as to what is or is not
-duty according to the circumstances of the age or nation, the
-ideal or standard adopted, public opinion, etc. That is,
-conscience assures us that we ought always to do right, but
-leaves us to find out, the best way we can, what is or is not
-right. Conscience, then, cannot be itself the rule; it is a
-witness within us of our obligation to obey God, and the judgment
-which we pass on our acts, usually, in practice, on our acts
-after they are done, is at best only our judgment of what the
-rule or law is, not the rule or law itself. The rule or
-<i>regula</i> is not conscience, but the light of conscience,
-that by which it determines what is or is not duty; it is the law
-which, according to St. Thomas, is "quaedam est regula et mensura
-actuum, secundum quam inducitur ad agendum, vel ab agendo
-retrahitur;" [Footnote 156] or, in the sense we here use the
-term, the rule, or measure of duty prescribing what is to be
-done, and what avoided.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 156: <i>Summa</i> primae secundae, quest. xc. art.
-    I. incorp.]
-</p>
-<p>
-It is, as St. Thomas also says, an <i>ordinatio rationis</i>, and
-as an ordination of reason, it can be only the rule or measure of
-what is obligatory to be done or to be avoided. It defines and
-declares what is or is not duty, it does not and cannot make the
-duty, or create the obligation. The author and his school
-overlook the fact that reason is perceptive, not legislative.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_533">{533}</a></span>
-They confound the obligation with the rule that measures and
-determines it, and assume that it is the reason that creates the
-duty. They are psychologists, not philosophers, and see nothing
-behind or above human reason, man's highest and distinguishing
-faculty. Certainly without reason man could not either perform,
-or be bound to perform, a single moral act; and yet it is not the
-reason that binds him; and if he is bound to follow reason, as he
-undoubtedly is, it is only because reason tells him what is
-obligatory, and enables him to do it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Since only God can bind morally, only God can impose the law
-which measures, defines, or discloses what independent of the law
-is obligatory. The rule of duty, of right and wrong, is therefore
-the law of God. The law of God is promulgated in part through
-natural reason, and in part through supernatural revelation. The
-former is called the natural law, <i>lex naturalis;</i> the
-latter, the revealed law, or the supernatural law. But both are
-integral parts of one and the same law, and each has its reason
-in one and the same order of things, emanates from one and the
-same authority, for one and the same ultimate end. There are, no
-doubt, in the supernatural law, positive injunctions, and
-prohibitions, which are not contained in the natural law, though
-not repugnant thereto; but these have their reason and motive in
-the end, which in all cases determines the law. All human laws,
-ecclesiastical or civil, derive all their vigor as laws from the
-law of God, and all the positive injunctions and prohibitions of
-either are, in their nature, disciplinary, or means to the end,
-in which is the reason or motive of the law. Hence there is, and
-can be, nothing arbitrary in duty. Nothing is or can be imposed,
-under either the natural law or the supernatural law, in either
-church or state, in religion or morals, that does not immediately
-or mediately grow out of our relation to God as our creator, and
-as our last end or final cause. As a Christian I am bound to obey
-the supreme Pastor of the church, not as a man commanding in his
-own name, or by his own authority, but as the vicar of Christ,
-who has commissioned him to teach, discipline, and govern me. As
-a citizen I am bound to obey all the laws of my country not
-repugnant to the law or the rights of God, but only because the
-state has, in secular matters, authority from God to govern. In
-either case the obedience is due only to God, and he only is
-obeyed. It is his authority and his alone that binds me, and
-neither church nor state can bind me beyond or except by reason
-of its authority derived from him.
-</p>
-<p>
-The law is the rule, and is prescribed by the end, in which is
-the reason or motive of duty. The law is not the reason or motive
-of duty, nor is it the ground of the obligation. It is simply the
-rule, and tells us what God commands, not whence his right to
-command, nor wherefore he commands. His right to command rests on
-the fact that he is the Creator. But why does he command such and
-such things, or prescribe such and such duties? We do not answer,
-because such is his will; though that would be true as we
-understand it. For such answer would be understood by this
-untheological age, which forgets that the divine will is the will
-of infinite reason, to imply that duties are arbitrary, rest on
-mere will, and that there is no reason why God should prescribe
-one thing as duty rather than another. What the law of God
-declares to be duty is duty because it is necessary to accomplish
-the purpose of our existence, or the end for which we are
-created. Everything that even God can enjoin as duty has its
-reason or motive in that purpose or end. The end, then,
-prescribes, or is the reason of, the law.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_534">{534}</a></span>
-<p>
-The end for which God creates us is himself, who is our final
-cause no less than our first cause. God acts always as infinite
-reason, and cannot therefore create without creating for some
-end; and as he is self-sufficing and the adequate object of his
-own activity, there is and can be no end but himself. All things
-are not only created by him but for him. This is equally a truth
-of philosophy and of revelation, and even those theologians who
-talk of natural beatitude, are obliged to make it consist in the
-possession of God, at least, as the author of nature. Hence, St.
-Paul, the greatest philosopher that ever wrote, as well as an
-inspired apostle, says, Rom. xi. 36, "Of him, and by him, and in
-him are all things;" or, "in him and <i>for</i> him they
-subsist," as Archbishop Kenrick explains in a note to the
-passage. The motive or reason of the law is in the end, or in God
-as final cause. The motive or reason for keeping or fulfilling
-the law is, then, that we may gain the end for which we are made,
-or, union with God as our final cause. This is all clear, plain,
-and undeniable, and hence we conclude that morals, in the strict
-sense of the word, cannot be asserted unless we assert God as our
-creator and as our last end.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky and his school do not, then, attain to the true
-philosophy of morals, for they recognize no final cause, either
-of man or his act; and yet there is no moral act that is not done
-freely <i>propter finem</i>, for the sake of the end. We do not
-say that all acts not so done are vicious or sinful, nor do we
-pretend that no acts are moral that are not done with a distinct
-and deliberate reference to God as our last end. The man who
-relieves suffering because he cannot endure the pain of seeing
-it, performs a good deed, though an act of very imperfect virtue.
-We act also from habit, and when the habit has been formed by
-acts done for the sake of the end, or by infused grace, the acts
-done from the habit of the soul without an explicit reference to
-the end are moral, virtuous, in the true sense of either term;
-nor do we exclude those Gentiles who, not having the law, do the
-things of the law, of whom St. Paul speaks, Rom. ii. 14-16.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky overlooks the end, and presents no reason or motive for
-performing our duty, distinguishable from the duty itself. He
-adopts the philosophy of the Porch, except that he thinks it did
-not make enough of the emotional side of our nature, that is, was
-not sufficiently sentimental. The Stoics held that we must do
-right for the sake of right alone, or because it is right. They
-rejected all consideration of personal advantage, of general
-utility, the honor of the gods, future life, heaven or hell, or
-the happiness of mankind. They admitted the obligation to serve
-the commonwealth and to do good to all men, but because it was
-right. The good of the state or of the race was duty, but not the
-reason or motive of the duty. The professedly disinterested
-morality on which our author, after them, so earnestly insists,
-closely analyzed, will be found to be as selfish as that of the
-Garden, or that of Paley and Bentham. The Epicurean makes
-pleasure, that is, the gratification of the senses, the motive of
-virtue; the Stoic makes the motive the gratification of his
-intellectual nature, or rather his pride, which is as much a
-man's self as what the apostle calls concupiscence, or the flesh.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_535">{535}</a></span>
-Intellectual selfishness, in which the Stoics abounded, is even
-more repugnant to the virtue of the actor than the sensual
-selfishness of the votary of pleasure. We care not what fine
-words the Stoic had on his lips, no system of pagan morals was
-further removed from real disinterested virtue than that of the
-Porch.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky denounces the morality of the church as selfish, and
-says the selfish system triumphed with Bossuet over Fénélon; but
-happily for us he is not competent to speak of the morals
-enjoined by the church. He does not understand the question which
-was at issue, and entirely misapprehends the matter for which
-Fénélon was censured by the Holy See. The doctrine of Fénélon, as
-he himself explained and defended it, was never condemned, nor
-was that of Bossuet, which, on several points, was very unsound,
-ever approved. Several passages of Fénélon's <i>Maxims of the
-Saints</i> were censured as favoring quietism, already condemned
-in the condemnation of Molinos and his adherents&mdash;a doctrine
-which Fénélon never held, and which he sought in his
-<i>Maxims</i> to avoid without running into the contrary extreme,
-but, the Holy See judged, unsuccessfully. His thought was
-orthodox, but the language he used could be understood in a
-quietistic sense; and it was his language, not his doctrine, that
-was condemned.
-</p>
-<p>
-The error favored by Fénélon's language, though against his
-intention, was that it is possible in this life to rise and
-remain habitually in such a state of charity, or pure love of God
-for his own sake, of such perfect union with him, that in it the
-soul no longer hopes or fears, ceases to make acts of virtue, and
-becomes indifferent to its own salvation or damnation, whether it
-gains heaven or loses it. The church did not condemn the love of
-God for his own sake, nor <i>acts</i> of perfect charity, for so
-much is possible and required of all Christians. The church
-requires us to make acts of love, as well as of faith and hope,
-and the act of love is: "O my God! I love thee above all things,
-with my whole heart and soul, because thou art infinitely amiable
-and deserving of all love; I love also my neighbor as myself for
-the love of thee; I forgive all who have injured me, and ask
-pardon of all whom I have injured." Here is no taint of
-selfishness, but an act of pure love. Yet though we can and ought
-to make distinct acts of perfect charity, it is a grave error to
-suppose that the soul can in this life sustain herself,
-habitually, in a state of pure love, that she ever attains to a
-state on earth in which acts of virtue cease to be necessary, in
-which she ceases from pure love to be actively virtuous, and
-becomes indifferent to her own fate, to her own salvation or
-damnation, to heaven or hell&mdash;an error akin to that of the
-Hopkinsians, that in order to be saved one must be willing to be
-damned. As long as we live, acts of virtue, of faith, hope, and
-charity, are necessary; and to be indifferent to heaven or hell,
-is to be indifferent whether we please God or offend him, whether
-we are united to him or alienated from him.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is a great mistake to represent the doctrine the church
-opposed to quietism or to Fénélon as the selfish theory of
-morals. To act from simple fear of suffering or simple hope of
-happiness, or to labor solely to escape the one and secure the
-other, is, of course, selfish, and is not approved by the church,
-who brands such fear as servile, and such hope as mercenary,
-because in neither is the motive drawn from the end, which is
-God, as our supreme good.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_536">{536}</a></span>
-What the church bids us fear is alienation from God, and the
-happiness she bids us seek is happiness in God, because God is
-the end for which we are made. Thus, to the question, "Why did
-God make you?" the catechism answers, "That I might know him,
-love him, and serve him in this world, and be happy <i>with
-him</i> for ever in the next." <i>With him</i>, not without him.
-The fear the church approves is the fear of hell, not because it
-is a place of suffering, and the fear of God she inculcates is
-not the fear of him because he can send us to hell, but because
-hell is alienation from God, is offensive to him: and therefore
-the fear is really fear of offending God, and being separated
-from him. The hope of happiness she approves is the hope of
-heaven, not simply because heaven is happiness, but because it is
-union with God, or the possession of God as our last end, which
-is our supreme good.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here neither the fear of hell nor the hope of heaven is selfish;
-for in each the motive is drawn from the end, from God who is our
-supreme good. It therefore implies charity or the love of God.
-And herein is its moral value. It may not be perfectly
-disinterested, or perfect charity, which is the love of God for
-his own sake, or because he is the supreme good in himself; but
-to love him as our supreme good, and to seek our good in him and
-him only, is still to love him, and to draw from him the motive
-of our acts. The church enjoins this reference to God in which,
-while she recognizes faith and hope as virtues in this life, she
-enjoins charity, without which the actor is nothing.
-</p>
-<p>
-If Mr. Lecky had known the principle of Catholic morals, and
-understood the motives to virtue which the church urges, he would
-never have accused her of approving the selfish theory, which
-proposes in no sense God, but always and everywhere self, as the
-end. He will allow us no motive to virtue but the right; that is,
-in his theory, duty has no reason or motive but itself. No doubt
-his conception of right includes benevolence, the love of
-mankind, and steady, persevering efforts to serve our country and
-the human race; but he can assign no reason or motive why one
-should do so without falling either into the selfishness or the
-utilitarianism which he professes to reject. The sentimental
-theory which he seems to adopt cannot help him, for none of our
-sentiments are disinterested; all the sentiments pertain to self,
-and seek always their own gratification. This is as true of those
-called the higher, nobler sentiments as of the lower and baser,
-and, in point of fact, sentimentalists, philanthropists, and
-humanitarians are usually the most selfish, cruel, heartless, and
-least moral people in society. Men who act from sentimental
-instead of rational motives are never trustworthy, and are, in
-general, to be avoided.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky maintains that right is to be done solely because it is
-right, without any considerations of its particular or general
-utility, or regard to consequences. But he shrinks from this, and
-appeals to utility when hard pressed, and argues that
-considerations of advantage to society or to mankind, or a
-peculiar combination of circumstances, may sometimes justify us
-in deviating from the right&mdash;that is, in doing wrong. He contends
-that it may be our duty to sacrifice the higher principles of our
-nature to the lower, and appears shocked at Dr. Newman's
-assertion that "the church holds that it were better for sun and
-moon to drop from heaven, for the earth to fail, and for all the
-many millions of its inhabitants to die of starvation in extreme
-agony, <i>so far as temporal affliction goes</i>, than that one
-soul, I will not say should be lost, but should commit one venial
-sin, tell one wilful untruth, though it harmed no one, or steal
-one poor farthing, without excuse."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_537">{537}</a></span>
-This is too rigid for Mr. Lecky. He places duty in always acting
-from the higher principles of our nature; but thinks there may be
-cases when it is our duty to sacrifice them to the lower! He
-supposes, then, that there is something more obligatory than
-right, or that renders right obligatory when obligatory it is.
-</p>
-<p>
-But this doctrine of doing right for the sake of the right is
-utterly untenable. Right is not an abstraction, for there are no
-abstractions in nature, and abstractions are simple nullities. It
-must be either being or relation. If taken as a relation, it can
-be no motive, no end, because relation is real only in the
-related. If being, then it is God, who only is being. Your
-friends, the Stoics, placed it above the divinity, and taught us
-in Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius that it binds under one and the
-same law both God and man. But an abstraction which is formed by
-the mind operating on the concrete can bind no one, for it is in
-itself simply nothing. The weaker cannot bind the stronger, the
-inferior the superior, or that which is not that which is. But
-there is no being stronger than God or above him; for he is, in
-every respect, supreme. Nothing can bind him, and right must
-either be identified with him or held to grow out of the
-relations of his creatures to himself. In the first case, right
-is God, or God is right; and the obligation to do right is only
-the obligation to do what God commands. Right, as being, cannot
-exist distinct from God, and can bind men only in the sense in
-which God himself binds them. Their sovereign, in such case, is
-God, who, by his creative act, is their lord and proprietor. But
-right and God are not identical, and, consequently, right is not
-being, but a relation. What binds is not the right or the
-relation, but he who, by his creative act, founds the relation.
-Rejecting, then, right as an abstraction, we must understand by
-the right what under this relation it is the duty of the creature
-to do. Right and duty are then the same. Ask what is man's duty;
-the answer is, what is right. Ask what is right, and the answer
-is, whatever is duty.
-</p>
-<p>
-But right does not make itself right, nor duty itself duty. Here
-is the defect of all purely rationalistic morals, and of every
-system of morals that is not based, we say not on revelation, but
-on theology, or the creative act of God. Right and duty are
-identical, we grant; but neither can create its own obligation,
-or be its own reason or motive. To say of an act, it is duty
-because it is right, or it is right because it is duty, is to
-reason, as the logicians say, in a <i>vicious</i> circle, or to
-answer <i>idem per idem</i>, which is not allowable by any logic
-we are acquainted with. We must, then, if we assert morals at
-all, come back to theology, and find the ground of obligation or
-duty&mdash;which is simply the right or authority of God to command
-us&mdash;in our relation to God, as our creator or first cause, and
-the reason or motive in our relation to him as our last end or
-final cause.
-</p>
-<p>
-No doubt the reason why the rationalistic moralists in modern
-times are reluctant to admit this is, because they very
-erroneously suppose that it means that the basis of morals is to
-be found only in supernatural revelation, and is not
-ascertainable or provable by reason. But this is a mistake,
-growing out of another mistake; namely, that the creative act is
-a truth of revelation only, and not a truth of science or
-philosophy. The creative act is a fact of science, the basis,
-rather, of all science, as of all life in creatures, and must be
-recognized and held before revelation can be logically asserted.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_538">{538}</a></span>
-That God is, and is our creator, our first cause, and our final
-cause, are truths that do not depend on revelation to be known;
-and the theological basis of morals which we assert, in
-opposition to the rationalistic moralists, is within the province
-of reason or philosophy. But the rationalists, in seeking to
-escape revelation, lose God, and are forced to assert a morality
-that is independent of him, and does not suppose or need him in
-order to be obligatory. They are obliged, therefore, to seek a
-basis of morals in nature, which in its own right has no
-legislative authority; for nature is the creature of God, and is
-nothing without him.
-</p>
-<p>
-The intuition of right, obligation, duty, which, according to our
-author, is the fundamental principle of morals, is only, he
-himself maintains, the immediate apprehension of a principle or
-law of human nature, or of our higher nature, from which we are
-to act, instead of acting from our lower nature; but our higher
-nature is still nature, and no more legislative than our lower
-nature. Nature being always equal to nature, nothing is more
-certain than that nature cannot bind nature or place it under
-obligation.
-</p>
-<p>
-Besides, when the author places the obligation in nature, whether
-the higher or the lower, he confounds moral law with physical
-law, and mistakes law in the sense in which it proceeds from God
-as first cause for law in the sense in which it proceeds from God
-as final cause. The physical laws, the natural laws of the
-physiologists, are in nature, constitutive of it,
-indistinguishable from it, and are what God creates: the moral
-law is independent of nature, over it, and declares the end for
-which nature exists, and from which, if moral nature, it must
-act. It is supernatural in the sense that God is supernatural,
-and natural only in the sense that it is promulgated through
-natural reason independently of supernatural revelation. Natural
-reason asserts the moral law, but asserts it as a law <i>for</i>
-nature, not a law in nature. By confounding it with physical
-laws, and placing it in nature as the law of natural activity,
-the author denies all moral distinction between it and the law by
-which the liver secretes bile, or the blood circulates. He holds,
-therefore, with Waldo Emerson that gravitation and purity of
-heart are identical, and, with our old transcendentalist friends,
-that the rule of duty is expressed in the maxims, Obey thyself;
-Act out thyself; Follow thy instincts. No doubt they meant, as
-our author means, the higher instincts, the nobler self, the
-higher nature. But the law recognized and asserted is no more the
-moral law than is the physical law by which the rain falls, the
-winds blow, the sun shines, the flowers bloom, or the earth
-revolves on its axis. Physical laws there are, no doubt, in human
-nature; but the theologians tell us that an act done from them is
-not an <i>actus humanus</i>, but an <i>actus hominis</i>, which
-has no moral character, and, whatever its tendency, is neither
-virtuous nor vicious.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky, as nearly all modern philosophers, denies God as final
-cause, if not as first cause. The moral law has its reason and
-motive in him as our final cause, and this is the difference
-between it and physical law. The pagan Greeks denied both first
-cause and final cause, for they knew nothing of creation; but
-being a finely organized race and living in a country of great
-natural beauty, they confounded the moral with the beautiful, as
-some moderns confound art with religion. The author so far agrees
-with them, at least, as to place duty in the beauty and nobility
-of the act, or in acts proceeding from the beauty and nobility of
-our nature&mdash;what he calls our higher nature.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_539">{539}</a></span>
-We do not quarrel with Plato when he defines beauty to be the
-splendor of the divinity, and therefore that all good, noble, and
-virtuous acts are beautiful, and that whoever performs them has a
-beautiful soul. But there is a wide difference between the
-beautiful and the moral, though the Greeks expressed both by the
-same term; and art, whose mission it is to realize the beautiful,
-has of itself no moral character; it lends itself as readily to
-vice as to virtue, and the most artistic ages are very far from
-being the most moral or religious ages. The mistake is in
-overlooking the fact that every virtuous or moral act must be
-done <i>propter finem</i>, and that the law, the reason, the
-motive of duty depends on the end for which man was made and
-exists.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the author and his school have not learned that all things
-proceed from God by way of creation, and return to him without
-absorption in him as their last end. Morals are all in the order
-of this return, and are therefore teleological. Not knowing this,
-and rejecting this movement of return, they are forced to seek
-the basis of morals in man's nature in the order of its
-procession from God, where it is not. The intuition they assert
-would be something, indeed, if it were the intuition of a
-principle or law not included in man's nature, but on which his
-nature depends, and to which it is bound, by the right of God
-founded in his creative act, to subordinate its acts. But by the
-intuition of right, which they assert, they do not mean anything
-really objective and independent of our nature, which the mind
-really apprehends. On their system they can mean by it only a
-mental conception, that is, an abstraction. We indeed find men
-who, as theologians, understand and defend the true and real
-basis of morals, but who, as philosophers, seeking to defend what
-they call natural morality, only reproduce substantially the
-errors of the Gentiles. This is no less true of the intuitive
-school, than of the selfish, the sentimental, or the utilitarian.
-Cudworth founds his moral system in the innate idea of right, in
-which he is followed by Dr. Price; Samuel Clarke gives, as the
-basis of morals, the idea of the fitness of things; Wollaston
-finds it in conformity to truth; Butler, in the idea or sense of
-duty; Jouffroy, in the idea of order; Fourier, in passional
-harmony&mdash;only another name for Jouffroy's order. But these all,
-since they exclude all intuition of the end or final cause, build
-on a mental conception, or a psychological abstraction, taken as
-real. The right, the fitness, the duty, the order they assert are
-only abstractions, and they see it not.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is the hardest thing in the world to convince philosophers
-that the real is real, and the unreal is unreal, and therefore
-nothing. Abstractions are firmed by the mind, and are nothing out
-of the concrete from which they are generalized. A system of
-philosophy, speculative or moral, built on abstractions or
-abstract conceptions of the true, the right, the just, or duty,
-has no real foundation, and no more solidity than "the baseless
-fabric of a vision." Yet we cannot make the philosophers see it,
-and every day we hear people, whose language they have corrupted,
-talk of "abstract principles," "abstract right," "abstract
-justice," "abstract duty," "abstract philosophy," "abstract
-science;" all of which are "airy nothings," to which not even the
-poet can give "a local habitation and a name." The philosophers
-who authorize such expressions are very severe on sensists and
-utilitarians; yet they really hold that all non-sensible
-principles and causes, and all ideas not  derived from the
-senses, are abstractions, and that the sciences which treat of
-them are abstract sciences.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_540">{540}</a></span>
-Know they not that this is precisely what the sensists themselves
-do? If the whole non-sensible order is an abstraction, only the
-sensible is real, or exists <i>a parte rei</i>, and there is no
-intelligible reality distinct from the sensible world. All
-heathen philosophy ends in one and the same error, which can be
-corrected only by understanding that the non-sensible is not an
-abstraction, but real being, that is God, or the real relation
-between God and his acts or creatures. But to do this requires
-our philosophers to cast out from their minds the old leaven of
-heathenism which they have retained, to recognize the creative
-act of God, and to find in theology the basis of both science and
-morals.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky proves himself, in the work before us, as in his
-previous work, an unmitigated rationalist, and rationalism is
-only heathenism revived. He himself proves it. He then can be
-expected to write the history of European morals only from a
-heathen point of view, and his judgments of both heathen and
-Christian morals will be, in spite of himself, only those of a
-respectable pagan philosopher and in the latter period of pagan
-empire, and attached to the moral philosophy of the Porch. He is
-rather tolerant than otherwise of Christianity, in some respects
-even approves it, lauds it for some doctrines and influences
-which it pleases him to ascribe to it, and to which it has no
-claim; but judges it from a stand-point far above that of the
-fathers, and from a purely pagan point of view, as we may take
-occasion hereafter to show, principally from his account of the
-conversion of Rome, and the triumph of the Christian religion in
-the Roman empire.
-</p>
-<p>
-But we have taken up so much space in discussing the nature and
-foundation of morals, to which the author devotes his preliminary
-chapter, that we have no room for any further discussion at
-present. What we have said, however, will suffice, we think, to
-prove that rationalism is as faulty in morals as in religion, to
-vindicate the church from the charge of teaching a selfish
-morality, and to prove that the only solid basis of morals is in
-theology.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-              <h2>Faith.</h2>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-      Faith is no weakly flower,
-  By sudden blight, or heat, or stormy shower
-      To perish in an hour.
-
-      But rich in hidden worth,
-  A plant of grace, though striking root in earth,
-      It boasts a hardy birth:
-
-      Still from its native skies
-  Draws energy which common shocks defies,
-      And lives where nature dies!
-
-
-   Oratory, Birmington.          E. Caswall.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_541">{541}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-       <h2>Religion Emblemed In Flowers.</h2>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous,
-     God hath written in the stars above;
-   But not less in the bright flowerets under us
-     Stands the revelation of his love.
-   And with childlike, credulous affection
-     We behold their tender buds expand&mdash;
-   Emblems of our own great resurrection,
-     Emblems of the bright and better land."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p>
-Of all the poetic and suggestive traditions that linger with us
-from the early ages&mdash;those ages when art revived through
-religion, and symbolized the truths of eternity by the creation
-and application of such esthetics which, under the dominion of
-heathendom, had been perverted to purely sensual enjoyment&mdash;of
-all these traditions, then, we find few more beautiful in their
-various types, more elevating in their idealization, or which
-form a stronger connecting link between the soul's aspirations
-and our material enjoyment, than those frailest children of the
-beautiful that belong to the floral kingdom. Coeval with the
-creation, the solace, companions, and delight of our first
-parents, they shared the punishment, likewise, of man's
-transgression, in the flood; but when the waters subsided, they
-were the chosen symbols to announce to Noah the cessation of
-omnipotent vengeance, and the first to greet the weary wanderers,
-as their feet again touched the earth; raising their lowly heads
-from around the tree-roots, and through the rocky fissures, as
-emblems of the life immortal that springs from decay.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among those which seem to be the chosen ones, as most expressive
-of religious sentiment, both in the Old and New Testament as well
-as in early legendary lore, are the rose, the lily, the olive,
-and the palm.
-</p>
-<p>
-To each of these has been given a significance, from the earliest
-times, that has made them cherished with our households and
-associated with our faith. Although the rose was perverted by the
-heathen into a type of sensual love and luxury, yet, through the
-marvellous beauty and variety of its creation, it was reclaimed
-by the Christian poets, to be the attendant of the pure and holy,
-wherever an ornament was needed to paint a moral victory, or
-glorify decay.
-</p>
-<p>
-That this flower was largely cultivated by the Jews, and used in
-their religious festivals as an ornament, is made clear by the
-frequent use we find of it, as a simile in the Bible. Solomon, in
-his song, compares the church to the "rose of Sharon and lily of
-the valley." Again, in the book of Wisdom, we see their
-appreciation in the admonition, "Let us crown ourselves with
-rosebuds ere they be withered." Also, in Ecclesiasticus, occurs
-this metaphor, "I was exalted like a palm-tree in Engaddi, and as
-a rose-plant in Jericho." Again, "Hearken to me, ye holy
-children, and bud forth as roses growing by the brook."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a belief among the Jews, according to Zoroaster, says
-Howitt, "that every flower is appropriated to a particular angel,
-and that the hundred-leaf rose is consecrated to an archangel of
-the highest order." The same author relates, that the Persian
-fire-worshippers believe that Abraham was thrown into a furnace
-by Nimrod, and the flames forthwith turned into a bed of roses.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_542">{542}</a></span>
-<p>
-In contradistinction to this in sentiment is the belief of the
-Turk, who holds that this lovely flower springs from the
-perspiration of Mohammed, and, in accordance with this creed,
-they never tread upon it or suffer one to lie upon the ground.
-</p>
-<p>
-I think it was Solon who held the theory that the rose and the
-woman were created at the same time, and in consequence thereof,
-there sprang up a contest among the gods, as to which should be
-awarded the palm of superior beauty. Certainly there may yet be
-traced a close resemblance between these native queens, not only
-in the matter of beauty, but also in the variety and fragility
-for which the rose, above all others, is distinguished.
-Everywhere has God planted this exquisite work of his hand. In
-the bleak polar regions, where the days of sunshine are so short,
-and so few, there is seen among the first breathings of the
-summer zephyrs the "<i>Rosa rapa</i>," its slender stem covered
-with pale double flowers, lifting its head to greet those
-ice-bound prisoners as they issue from the stifling air of their
-winter huts. Degraded as are that people in their tastes, the
-magic of these silent messengers from God is so forcible, that
-they greet them with a poet's joy, and deck their heads and rough
-sealskin clothing with their tender blossoms. Even to the
-broken-hearted Siberian exile, there come a few short days in his
-life when these frail comforters rise from the frozen earth to
-greet him, like messengers from his lost home and friends. &hellip; It
-is not to be wondered, then, with all the associations of Eden
-ever clinging about these eloquent voices, that the early
-Christians transferred their ornamental and suggestive beauties
-from the saturnalian rites of heathendom to the honor of God and
-his saints. Hence it is, that, in so many of the beautiful
-legends that have come down to us, we find these frail memorials
-so often associated as types of some noble deed accomplished, or
-the given reward of some heavy human sacrifice. To those who look
-upon these legends as myths, or simply religious fairy tales, we
-can only say, with Mrs. Jameson, that we most sincerely pity all
-such sceptics from our heart; for, where they outstrip the bounds
-of even miraculous probability, there may yet be found in their
-pages both entertainment and instruction. And after all, why
-should not religion have her fairyland, as well as material life?
-Why should not the soul enjoy the privilege of an occasional
-transport into a world of poetical visions, as well as the
-imagination, which finds in the fairy-dreams of childhood only a
-dim vista of annual blooms, upon which the breath of heaven can
-never blow? Weary with the turmoil of life, with the noise and
-whirl of the shifting scenes that open continuously upon a vista
-of pain, and sorrow, and unrealized hopes, such legends recall to
-the soul auroral gleams of childhood's purity, and transport her
-into fields that are redolent with the flowers of that eternal
-land where earthly woes can never come. In this Dodona grove, the
-soul hallows the heart; the impossible becomes the real; and as
-all the aspirations for the higher life possess it, the skies
-seem to open, we catch a flutter of the angels' robes, the
-perfume of the flowers of paradise, and a glimmer even of the
-golden gates shoots radiantly across the uplifted, tear-dimmed
-eye; and we feel, for these few moments at least, that God and
-heaven are very nigh, ay! even in our heart of hearts.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_543">{543}</a></span>
-What matters it, then, if it be not all truth, since it serves
-the purpose, and for the time being decks the soul in regal
-splendor, and makes the unattainable and dim worth the longest
-toil and hardest battle that the short span of human life can
-compass? In those early ages, when the heathen idols were
-tottering on their thrones, and the voice of Pan had died out in
-a mighty wail at the sound of a feeble infant's cry&mdash;in those
-dawning Christian days there was felt the need of mental food of
-a nourishing and elevating kind for the masses. Heretofore, they
-had been kept occupied by public games, periodical saturnalian
-revels, gladiatorial combats, and other heathen abominations, in
-order to allow the philosopher to pursue his subtle theories in
-quiet, and the wheels of government to run smoothly on. As years
-and numbers, however, increased the Christian fold, and the first
-fervor began to abate under the influence of human passions and
-the need of life's varieties, it became evident that some food
-was necessary to meet the hunger of the craving mind. The time
-and thoughts of the philosophers and theologians were too deeply
-engrossed with the abstruse problems of the day&mdash;the esoteric and
-exoteric&mdash;to give other time beyond that of the soul's immediate
-requirements to the ignorant. Hence it was, that, as human blood
-was poured out like water, in libations to the true God, when
-beauty and innocence, rank and lowliness, wealth and poverty,
-found a common centre wherein to pray and suffer&mdash;hence it was,
-that the religious, poetic heart of the people idealized and
-beatified these deeds of heroic sanctity; and the church, while
-striving to repress extravagance, yet welcomed and fostered a
-taste which she saw, in her mighty wisdom, would be productive of
-elevating thought and emulative example. "And it is a mistake,"
-says Mrs. Jameson, "to suppose that these legends had their sole
-origin in the brains of dreaming monks. The wildest of them had
-some basis of truth to rest on, and the forms which they
-gradually assumed were but the necessary results of the age which
-produced them. They became the intense expression of that inner
-life which revolted against the desolation and emptiness of the
-outward existence; of those crushed and outraged sympathies which
-cried aloud for rest, and refuge, and solace, and could nowhere
-find them." Mrs. Jameson disclaims any idea of treating these
-legends save in their poetic and artistic aspect. But as religion
-is the root from whence all have their source, so it is
-insensibly transmuted throughout the whole work. And how could
-she do otherwise, Protestant though she was? For the great trunk,
-the massive column, around which all these delicate fibres of
-poesy cling, is religion. Without such support, they would fall,
-and be trailed in the dust, and long, long ere this, their
-ephemeral life would have been crushed out, as were the oracular
-voices of the marble gods.
-</p>
-<p>
-This literature, then, "became one in which peace was represented
-as better than war, and sufferance more dignified than
-resistance; which exhibited poverty and toil as honorable, and
-charity as the first of virtues; which held up to imitation and
-emulation self-sacrifice in the cause of good, and contempt of
-death for conscience' sake&mdash;a literature in which the tenderness,
-the chastity, the heroism of woman, played a conspicuous part;
-which distinctly protested against slavery, against violence,
-against impurity in word and deed; which refreshed the fevered
-and darkened spirit with images of moral beauty and truth,
-revealed bright glimpses of a better land, where the wicked cease
-from troubling, and brought down the angels of God with shining
-wings, and bearing crowns of glory, to do battle with the demons
-of darkness, to catch the fleeting soul of the triumphant martyr,
-and carry it at once into a paradise of eternal blessedness and
-peace." [Footnote 157]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 157: Mrs. Jameson's <i>Legendary Art</i>.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_544">{544}</a></span>
-<p>
-Under the influence, then, of these new inspirations, art
-likewise revived, and the brush and the chisel lent the aid of
-their immortal touch to give force and perpetuity to these
-creations; and birds, and flowers, and the elements were
-introduced as types or allegories of the subjects thus
-interpreted. Each one possessed a significance and symbolism that
-united the soul to the eternal source of these gifts, and kept
-alive in the common heart those principles which the people could
-admire if not emulate. The rapidity with which artists multiplied
-at this period belongs to the marvelous. God needed artisans for
-his work, and truly the old masters seemed, judging from their
-deeds and spirit, to have risen, like Adam, from the clay
-moulding of the almighty hand. Possessed by a sense of the lofty
-nature of their calling, they not only strove for perfection in
-detail, but also for a religious spirit, which should so inspire
-the work as to move every heart to piety, and embody for
-instruction the full force of the solemn truths therein
-portrayed. They emerged from the impure influences of the old
-religion and literature, like the chrysalis, into the golden-hued
-glory that shone in the lives of the ancient patriarchs and
-prophets; in the auroral beams that hung like sea-foam over the
-angels as they walked or talked as God's messengers on earth,
-until, bathed in a glory borrowed from the very smile of the
-Creator, they saw the divine Son descend like the morning star,
-and dwell upon earth among men.
-</p>
-<p>
-In all their work a confession of faith lay embodied; and feeling
-themselves called to this vocation, hearing the voice and seeing
-in the enthusiasm of their fervor the burning bush, they purified
-themselves by prayer, and fasting, and long meditation upon the
-subject that was to grow into life under the glowing tints of the
-brush or the magic stroke of the chisel. This mystical spirit so
-elevated and ennobled the soul-work of those grand old masters
-that faults in mechanical execution and anachronisms in details
-are, even to this day, overlooked, for the sake of that <i>con
-amore</i> zeal which pervades the vital treatment of their
-subjects. Fra Angelico, a Dominican monk, devoted his art life
-exclusively to the religious mysticism of his subjects. "Whenever
-he painted Christ upon the cross," says Jarves, "the tears would
-roll down his cheeks as if he were an actual eyewitness of his
-Saviour's agony. There is a celestial glow in all his beatified
-faces that seem to radiate from his own soul." Lippo Dalmasio, an
-early painter of Bologna, was also noted for his piety in art.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "He never painted the holy Virgin without fasting the previous
-  evening, and receiving absolution and the bread of angels in
-  the morning after; and, finally, never consented to paint for
-  hire, but only as a means of devotion." [Footnote 158]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 158: Lord Lindsay's <i>Christian Art</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Add to these, Luini, of Milan; Francia, of Bologna; Gentile and
-John Bellini, of Venice; Fra Bartolomeo, the Florentine monk, and
-friend of Savonarola; Perugino, and finally, Raphael&mdash;and we have
-the list of those who led the vanguard in the perpetuity of those
-heaven-toned idealizations that yet greet the eye with their
-beauty and animate the heart with emotions of grateful homage.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_545">{545}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Such art has left us, and can never again be revived until
-  artists believe and pray as did those men of old; until they
-  can see and feel as they did at all hours, amid their
-  rejoicings or as they slept, holy personages, saints, and
-  virgins, apostles and evangelists, martyrs, and the symbolized
-  faith for which they died. Virtues, and not graces; angels, and
-  not muses; types of spiritual truths, and not expressions of
-  sensuous beauty or lustful passion&mdash;these were their daily
-  intellectual food. Amid all things&mdash;in church, shop, or
-  bedroom; on the roadside and by the palace; at every street
-  corner, and over every threshold&mdash;were the figures of the
-  Redeemer and his holy mother to direct their thoughts still
-  higher heavenward. Religion, at all events, in its external
-  form, and as <i>believed</i>, was confessed by all men and in
-  all places. Youth were taught to rely on spiritual powers for
-  their earthly support and sole sustenance. Charity, faith, the
-  due subjection of the body to the development of its perfect
-  strength, humanity, the succor of the oppressed, the relief of
-  the unfortunate, <i>devoir</i>, duty to all men&mdash;such were the
-  doctrines of chivalry in the middle ages." [Footnote 159]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 159: <i>Art Hints</i>, by Jarves.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Apart from the palm and olive, we find no mention in the New
-Testament of flowers, save that exquisite simile of the lilies,
-made by our Saviour himself; and there can be found no other
-instance wherein such an illustration is rendered with more
-beautiful pathos and force. That he appreciated these frail
-emblems is not only made apparent in this, but is further proved
-by his choice of the calm repose and soothing influence of these
-silent sympathizers on Gethsemane's night of woe. No human
-companionship, no human eye or voice, could aid him then, in that
-fearful contest of humanity over divinity, as did nature's
-voiceless comforters&mdash;the flowers that were bent down by the
-weight of their tears, the great shifting sky above, with the
-eloquent calm of its silver stars, through which floated clear
-and luminous the angel comforters. Our Saviour proved in all the
-suffering episodes of his life that lovely groves, and dim
-funereal forests speak more forcibly to a heart in pain than do
-the wilder and grander convulsions of nature.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It is in quiet and subdued passages of unobtrusive majesty,
-  the deep, the calm, and the perpetual; that which must be
-  sought ere it can be seen, and loved ere it is understood;
-  things which the angels work out for us daily, and yet vary
-  eternally; which are never wanting, and never repeated; which
-  are to be found always, yet each found but once&mdash;it is through
-  these that her lesson of devotion is chiefly taught and the
-  blessing of beauty given." [Footnote 160]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 160: Ruskin's <i>Modern Painters</i>. ]
-</p>
-<p>
-Nowhere have these beautiful accessories in life's pilgrimage
-been more glowingly and successfully used, not only as an
-abstract religious emblem, but as a divine allegorical poem, than
-in the representations of the life and attributes of the blessed
-Virgin. To this type of all that was pure and noble in woman; to
-the humanity which was a link in the chain of divinity, a
-partaker of all human woes, and yet the chosen of the Godhead&mdash;to
-her were specially dedicated those early labors in revived art,
-and of which she was the inspiration. Herein, as elsewhere, we
-find the historical, mystical, and devotional treated with every
-conceivable adjunct that can typify a being so elevated and
-benign. The beauty and variety of the rose, the purity and
-fragrance of the lily, were devoted to her special honor,
-wherever her name was venerated and loved. Even before it was
-safe for the early Christians to make an open profession of
-faith, they expressed their devotion to the mother conjointly
-with the Son, in the darkness and solitude of the catacombs.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_546">{546}</a></span>
-Therein it was, that the first Christian artist dared give life
-to his heart's belief; and therein it was, that her image with
-that of her divine Son and the apostles were impressed upon the
-walls and sarcophagi of that grand subterranean temple.
-</p>
-<p>
-As the Annunciation was the door through which all future
-blessings flowed, so it became a most fruitful theme to the faith
-and imagination of those great religious artists whose work was a
-labor of love; and we find it treated from the fifth to the
-sixteenth century by Byzantine, Italian, Spanish, and German art
-with a variety, beauty, and significance that only an enshrined
-saint could inspire. In the earliest representations of this
-subject, the angel appeared holding a sceptre, but this mark of
-authority gradually gave way to the more symbolic lily. This was
-introduced universally, either held in the hand of the angel as
-he salutes her, or seen growing in a pot placed in some part of
-the room. Others again, represent an enclosed garden, upon which
-the Blessed Virgin is looking from a window. In all, from the
-crudest to the most finished, some floral adjunct gives beauty
-and significance to the subject. The Assumption&mdash;that fitting
-climacteric of a life whence sprung the Eternal Word&mdash;was
-likewise a theme of devotional and sublimated art-worship, which
-gathered pathos and beauty from the belief that her body was
-worthy the care of the seraphim and cherubim, who transported it
-with angelic harmonies into the home of her glorified Son. Here,
-too, we find, according to the legend, her floral emblems
-springing up in the tomb from whence her incorruptible body had
-just been raised.
-</p>
-<p>
-In an Annibale Carracci, the apostles are seen below, one of whom
-is lifting, with an astonished air, a handful of roses out of the
-sepulchre. In another, by Rubens, one of the women exhibits the
-miraculous flowers held up in the folds of her dress. Dominico di
-Bartolo, who painted in 1430, (according to Mrs. Jameson,) omits
-the open tomb, but clothes the holy mother in a white robe
-embroidered with golden flowers.
-</p>
-<p>
-From the time of the Nestorian heresy, when the title of <i>Dei
-genitrix</i> was denied the Blessed Virgin, her votaries became
-even more zealous to corroborate her right to the title and
-privileges of mother of the man-God; and under the influence of
-this test of devotion and faith sprang those multitudinous
-representations of the woman glorified, as the enthroned Madonna.
-From thence the descent was natural and gradual to those
-characteristics which distinguished her life in its daily
-ministrations to her divine Son; and so touchingly natural, so
-beautiful in their tenderness, are many of these more human
-portraitures, that the coldest heart cannot withhold its homage,
-though it may its devotion. Even Mrs. Jameson, herself a
-Protestant, says, "We look, and the heart is in heaven; and it is
-difficult to refrain from an <i>Ora pro nobis</i>." In a large
-number of these inspirations of faith and love, we meet the
-various floral emblems that typify her beauty and purity. Some of
-the earliest representations are found in many of the old Gothic
-cathedrals, executed in sculpture. She is therein portrayed in a
-standing position, bearing the child on her left arm, while in
-the right hand she holds a flower, or sometimes a sceptre. In a
-holy family in the academy of Venice, by Bonifazio, "The virgin
-is seated in glory, with her infant on her knee, and encircled by
-cherubim. On one side an angel approaches with a basket of
-flowers on his head, and she is in the act of taking these
-flowers and scattering them on the saints who stand below."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_547">{547}</a></span>
-<p>
-The Arcadian and pastoral life, with which many of the Italian
-artists environ the mother and child, is certainly both poetical
-and natural. Mrs. Jameson gives many instances of this treatment;
-among them, one by Philippino Lippi, which is a beautiful idea.
-"Here," she says, "the mystical garden is formed of a balustrade,
-beyond which is seen a hedge, all in blush with roses. The virgin
-kneels in the midst and adores her infant; an angel scatters rose
-leaves over him, while the little St. John also kneels, and four
-angels, in attitudes of devotion, complete the group." "But a
-more perfect example," continues the same author, "is the Madonna
-of Francia in the Munich gallery, where the divine infant lies on
-the flowery turf, and the mother standing before him, and looking
-down on him, seems on the point of sinking on her knees in a
-transport of tenderness and devotion. With all the simplicity of
-the treatment, it is strictly devotional. The mother and her
-child are placed within the mystical garden enclosed in a
-<i>treillage</i> of roses, alone with each other, and apart from
-all earthly associations, all earthly communions."
-</p>
-<p>
-Those who are familiar with the Raphael series of Madonnas will
-recall, in this connection, his exquisite pastoral <i>La
-Jardinière</i>. There is also one similarly entitled by a French
-artist, though differently treated. The virgin is enthroned on
-clouds, and holds the infant, whose feet rest on a globe. Both
-mother and child are crowned with roses; and on each side, as if
-rising from the clouds, are vases filled with roses and lilies.
-Titian has also left many beautiful and some exaggerated works of
-the Arcadian school. There is an old Coptic tradition which is
-very beautiful, and bears somewhat on this subject of nature's
-aid in glorifying these two lives. Near the site of the ancient
-Heliopolis, there still stands a very pretty garden, in which
-(runs the tradition) the holy family rested in their flight into
-Egypt. Feeling oppressed with thirst, a spring of fresh water
-gushed at their feet, and on being pursued into their retreat by
-robbers, a sycamore-tree opened, and hid them from sight. "The
-spring still exists," says a recent traveller, "and the tree yet
-stands, and bears such unmistakable marks of antiquity as to make
-this tradition and faith of the present generation of Coptics at
-least plausible." But these floral emblematical tributes are as
-inexhaustible as are the sentiments of love, homage, and tender
-pity that fill the heart from the contemplation of the <i>Mater
-Dei Genitrix</i> down to the appealing anguish of the
-<i>Dolorosa</i>. "Thus in highest heaven, yet not out of sight of
-earth; in beatitude past utterance; in blessed fruition of all
-that faith creates and love desires; amid angel hymns and starry
-glories," we will leave enthroned the "blessed amongst women,"
-and turn to other legends, wherein the saints who followed her
-stand crowned with flowers celestial, awaiting a share of our
-praise and veneration.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-             Part Second.
-</p>
-<p>
-In Thuringia, one of the provinces of Germany, the traveller is
-attracted by a species of rose that is universally cultivated by
-the poorest peasant, as well as the richest land-owner. When the
-question as to its origin is asked, the answer invariably is,
-"Oh! that is the rose of the dear St. Elizabeth, our former
-queen; and was grown from one of the sprigs given to her by the
-angels."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_548">{548}</a></span>
-One might as well try to turn the faith of these simple people
-from their belief in the sanctity of her life as from the truth
-of the miraculous roses. According to Montalembert and others,
-thus runs the substance of the legend. Elizabeth loved the poor,
-and was specially devoted to relieving their necessities,
-frequently carrying with her own hands goods of various kinds, to
-distribute among them. At one season, there was a great scarcity
-of crops throughout the land, and caution and economy in the use
-of the royal stores had been advised even in the palace.
-Elizabeth could not bear to know of unrelieved suffering among
-her people; so, by close economy in her own wants, she managed to
-furnish food for many others. On one occasion, a very pressing
-case of necessity reached her; and not wishing to encourage her
-servants in disobedience to the general command, she started
-alone on her errand of mercy, with some lighter articles of food
-concealed in the folds of her dress. Just as she reached the back
-steps of the chateau, however, she met her husband, with several
-gentlemen, returning from the chase. Astonished to see his wife
-alone, and thus burdened, he asked her to show him what she was
-carrying; but as she held her dress in terror to her breast, he
-gently disengaged her hands, and behold! "It was filled with
-white and red roses, the most beautiful he ever saw."
-</p>
-<p>
-Wandering in thought over these scenes wherein the air is
-redolent with their fragrance, the form of the young and lovely
-Dorothea, with the radiant boy-angel at her side, rises in
-diaphonous light before the vision. We see her as she stands
-confronting her heathen judge Fabricius, who longs to possess her
-charms; and to his command, "Thou must serve our gods or die."
-she mildly answers, "Be it so; the sooner shall I stand in the
-presence of <i>Him</i> I most desire to behold." Then the
-governor asked her, "Whom meanest thou?" She replied, "I mean the
-Son of God, Christ, mine espoused. His dwelling is in paradise;
-by his side are joys eternal, and in his garden grow celestial
-fruits, and roses that never fade." And resisting all
-temptations, all entreaties, she went forth to torture and to
-death. "And as she went," (continues the legend,) "a young man, a
-lawyer of the city, named Theophilus, who had been present when
-she was first brought before the governor, called to her
-mockingly, 'Ha! fair maiden, goest thou to join thy bridegroom?
-Send me, I pray thee, of the fruits and flowers of that same
-garden of which thou hast spoken. I would fain taste of them!'
-And Dorothea, looking on him, inclined her head with a gentle
-smile, and said, 'Thy request, O Theophilus! is granted.' Where
-at he laughed aloud with his companions; but she went on
-cheerfully to death. When she came to the place of execution, she
-knelt down and prayed; and suddenly at her side stood a bright
-and beautiful boy, with hair bright as sunbeams. In his hands, he
-held a basket containing three apples and three fresh-gathered
-fragrant roses. She said to-him, 'Carry these to Theophilus; say
-that Dorothea hath sent them, and that I go before him to the
-garden whence they came, and await him there.' With those words,
-she bent her neck, and received the stroke of death. Meantime,
-the angel went to seek Theophilus, and found him still laughing
-in merry mood over the idea of the promised gift. The angel
-placed before him the basket of celestial fruit and flowers,
-saying, 'Dorothea sends thee these,' and vanished."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_549">{549}</a></span>
-Amazement filled the mind of Theophilus, and the taste of the
-fruit and fragrance of the roses pervaded his soul with a new
-life, the scales of darkness fell, and he proclaimed himself a
-servant of the same Lord that had won the heart of the gentle
-maiden. Carlo Dolci, Rubens, and Van Eyck have given the most
-poetical illustrations of this subject. Many other artists have
-also treated it, but more coldly.
-</p>
-<p>
-With the name of St. Cecilia arise visions of angels poised in
-mid-air, enthralled by seraphic music, which, through the power
-of its voluminous sweetness, has pierced even the gates of
-heaven. But the flowers of paradise, as well as its celestial
-harmonies, are also associated with the name of this beautiful
-virgin&mdash;flowers that were sent to her bridal-chamber, as a reward
-for her angelic purity and the eloquence which had moved her
-young heathen husband to respect her vow of chastity. Returning
-from the instructions of St. Urban, to whom she had sent him, he
-heard the most enchanting music, and on reaching his wife's
-chamber he "beheld an angel, who was standing near her, and who
-held in his hands two crowns of roses gathered in paradise,
-immortal in their freshness and perfume, but invisible to the
-eyes of unbelievers. With these he encircled the brows of Cecilia
-and Valerian; and he said to Valerian, "Because thou hast
-followed the chaste counsel of thy wife, and hast believed her
-words, ask what thou wilt, it shall be granted thee."
-</p>
-<p>
-I stood, early one morning late in the month of June, looking
-sadly upon the dead, white, upturned face of one who had seemed
-to walk, while on earth, more with angels than with men. A
-mystery of sadness had enveloped her life, but, like the cloud in
-the wilderness, it proved a power that drew her in the footprints
-of the "Man of sorrows." As I meditated upon the calm
-etherealized beauty that now absorbed the old earthly pain, and
-wondered what this secret of a heart-life could have been, her
-mother entered with tear-dimmed eyes, and placed upon her brow of
-auburn hair, through which glinted here and there a streak of
-gray&mdash;"dawn of another life that broke o'er her earthly
-horizon"&mdash;in her hands, and over the white fleecy robes, crowns
-and sprays of mingled crimson and white roses, all glistening
-with the morning dew.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Red roses for the dead!" I exclaimed in surprise. "White alone
-can surely typify such a life and death as hers."
-</p>
-<p>
-"So you think, my friend, because you with others saw only the
-outward calm that marked her way. But I&mdash;I who loved her so, knew
-and saw the thorn-crown that pressed her brow, and the hard
-stones and barbs that strewed every step of her way through
-life&mdash;I place them then here, because she loved them, and because
-they express, in conjunction with their sister's whiteness, the
-sorrow and purity of the angelic life now closed to pain and open
-only to joy.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Well done of God, to halve the lot,
-     And give her all the sweetness;
-   To us, the empty room and cot;
-     To her, the heaven's completeness.
-   For her to gladden in God's view;
-     For us to hope and bear on.
-   Grow, Lily, in thy garden new
-     Beside the rose of Sharon."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-I turned away sadly, marvelling upon the mystery of this life now
-closed so happily, and involuntarily arose to my mind the
-exquisite legend of the sultan's daughter.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_550">{550}</a></span>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-             I.
-
-  "Early in the morning,
-   The sultan's daughter
-   Walked in her father's garden,
-   Gathering the bright flowers,
-   All full of dew.
-   And as she gathered them,
-   She wondered more and more
-   Who was the master of the flowers,
-   And made them grow
-   Out of the cold, dark earth.
-   In my heart,' she said,
-       'I love him; and for him
-   Would leave my father's palace
-   To labor in his garden.'
-
-             II.
-
-  "And at midnight
-   As she lay upon her bed,
-   She heard a voice
-   Call to her from the garden,
-   And, looking forth from her window,
-   She saw a beautiful youth
-   Standing among the flowers;
-   And she went down to him,
-   And opened the door for him;
-   And he said to her,'O maiden!
-   Thou hast thought of me with love,
-   And for thy sake
-   Out of my father's kingdom
-   Have I come hither.
-       I am the master of the flowers;
-   My garden is in paradise,
-   And if thou wilt go with me,
-   Thy bridal garland
-   Shall be of bright red flowers.'
-   And then he took from his finger
-   A golden ring,
-   And asked the sultan's daughter
-   If she would be his bride.
-   And when she answered him with love,
-   His wounds began to bleed,
-   And she said to him,
-   'O Love! how red thy heart is,
-   And thy hands are full of roses.'
-   'For thy sake,' answered he,
-   'For thy sake is my heart so red,
-   For thee I bring these roses.
-   I gathered them at the cross
-   Whereon I died for thee!
-   Come, for my father calls,
-   Thou art my celestial bride!'
-   And the sultan's daughter
-   Followed him to his father's garden." [Footnote 161]
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 161: <i>Golden Legend</i>, by Longfellow.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Throughout all the early church legends, we find whatever is pure
-and beautiful in sentiment and exalted in art carefully
-cherished, and constantly presented to the contemplation of the
-votary in some glowing form that could act as a counterpoise to
-the corrupting influence of heathen passions and pursuits.
-</p>
-<p>
-When the holy mother stood on Calvary, her heart steeped in agony
-unutterable, not the least cause of her anguish was to see the
-waste of those precious drops of blood as they bedewed the hard
-insensible ground. But behold! as she gazes, and her tears fall,
-delicate bell-shaped crimson blossoms spring up, and absorb the
-human dew; and thus, through these frail beautifiers of suffering
-and consolers of grief, the heart of the mother was comforted,
-and the soul is drawn to look upward, away from the agonizing
-ignominy of the cross to the beatified glory to which he is
-translated at the price of so much woe.
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus also, in the horrid details of the early martyrdoms, we
-constantly meet these compensating, suggestive metaphors of the
-glory won. The painful agony of the downward crucifixion of St.
-Peter, the waste of blood from that congested head, springs into
-a fountain of clear gurgling water, from which flows healing for
-all suffering flesh that seek its miraculous aid. As St. Grata
-bears the decapitated head of her friend St. Alexander to the
-tomb, lo! flowers spring up as the blood falls, and are gathered
-by the mourners to deck his grave.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among the little band that followed Mother Seton more than fifty
-years ago, in her divine mission of self-abnegation and Christian
-love, was a delicate young woman whose life had been spent in
-ease, amid the devoted love and admiration of a large family
-circle. Dreamy and poetical by nature, her talent, then rare
-among American women, was revered and looked up to by seven young
-brothers as something marvellous; and no implement more fatiguing
-than the pen or needle was ever allowed to weary her dainty
-fingers. One day as she sat amid her flowers and books, conning a
-new inspiration, suddenly the open door of heaven seemed to stand
-before her, and she felt a voice saying, "He who would come after
-me must take up his cross and follow me."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_551">{551}</a></span>
-And believing that her heavenly spouse had called, she closed her
-books, and turned her face steadfastly away from her weeping
-friends, and went cheerfully forth to privation and labor.
-Faithful to her new vows, religion yet did not forbid the
-exercise of the talent God had given her; only now her themes had
-become more exalted, and the love and perennial sublimity of
-heaven took the place of the perishable and annual blooms of
-time. The privations and labors spent in the service of suffering
-humanity soon reduced her delicate frame to patient helplessness;
-but the beauty and love of God in his works and ways triumphed
-over all her bodily infirmities, and her strength was never too
-frail to raise a <i>sursum corda</i> in his praise. Whitsuntide
-of 1813 rose in the light of a glorious May morning, and the
-sufferer lay panting for breath, after a night of exhausting
-hemorrhage, and she knew that the angel, with palm in hand, stood
-by her side ready to conduct her to God. In blissful hope of the
-fruition that now dawned upon all those past sacrifices, labors,
-and sufferings, she fell, to the music of those unseen,
-undulating wings, into a sweet sleep. Mother Seton, who had left
-the sufferer's bed for a breath of the fresh morning air, just
-then returned from the garden, bearing in her hand the first rose
-of the season, knowing how refreshing and suggestive such a gift
-would be to the weary sufferer. Rejoiced to find her in repose,
-she gently laid the flower upon her bosom, above the white,
-folded hands, and quietly left the room. The fitful fever sleep
-was soon ended, and as Mary opened her eyes, first the fragrance,
-then the beauty of this heavenly symbol, caught her eye. Wasted
-and dying though the earthly tenement was, the soul, the poet's
-soul, yet glowed with vital power; and raising from a little
-table at her side a pencil and paper, she thereon breathed her
-last pean of poetic utterance in these lines:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "The morning was beautiful, mild, and serene,
-     All nature had waked from repose;
-   Maternal affection came silently in,
-     And placed on my bosom a rose.
-
-  "Poor nature was weak, and had almost prevailed,
-     The weary eyelids were closed;
-   But the soul rose in triumph, and joyfully hailed
-     The sweet queen of flowers&mdash;the rose.
-
-  "Whitsuntide was the time, the season of love:
-     Methought the blest spirit had chose
-   To leave for awhile the mild form of a dove,
-     And come in the blush of a rose.
-
-  "Come, Heavenly Spirit, descend on each breast,
-     And there let thy blessing repose,
-   As thou once didst on Mary, thy temple of rest;
-     For Mary's our mystical rose.
-
-  "Oh! may every rose that blooms forth evermore,
-     Enkindle the spirit of those
-   Who see it, or wear it, to bless and adore
-     The hand that created the rose."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-When Mother Seton returned, she found the lines with the rose
-still lying on her bosom; and looking into the sweet upturned
-face, she saw the signet of death stamped upon the luminous eyes,
-and knew by her short, heavy breathing that ere long she would be
-singing her songs in the rose-gardens of paradise.
-</p>
-<p>
-Suggestive of peace and lowliness as are these creations, yet
-even they have been perverted by the passions of man into
-insignia of blood and shame. The thirty years' war of the houses
-of York and Lancaster make the white and red rose ever associated
-with the sorrows and humiliations, the heroic endurance, and true
-womanly nobility of Margaret of Anjou. We see her as she stands
-under her rose-banner, on the heights of Tewksbury, with
-dauntless courage in her heart, and a mother's wild prayer upon
-her lips; standing there, amid the wild havoc, unflinchingly,
-until the wailing, weird blast of the trumpeters tells her that
-her beautiful white rose is broken at the stem, and its leaves
-scattered, trampled, and bathed in the life-blood of her only
-son.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_552">{552}</a></span>
-<p>
-Tracing, then, these exquisite adumbrations throughout the
-spiritual aspect of life, is it strange that we have learned to
-look upon these frail children of the beautiful as one of the
-connecting links with heaven? Of such every heart has its
-conservatory; every home its storehouse of withered, scentless
-mementoes, that recall, when the gates of the sanctuary are
-unbarred, memories deep and voiceless, and faces whose beauty has
-paled, like them, in dust. Here is the remnant of a cross of
-white <i>immortelles</i>. It was taken from the breast of a loved
-one who died far away in a foreign land, among strangers. It was
-sent with the last spoken words to comfort and uplift the heart
-of the mourners; and as we lift it from the sacred casket, the
-echo of those words seems to take form in the rustle of its
-blighted leaves, and the old, subdued sorrow breaks out afresh
-before the multitudinous memories and images evoked by a withered
-flower.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here lie together a sprig of orange blossom and a white rosebud,
-double memorial of a happy bridal and an early grave. Ere the
-perfume of the orange blossom had faded from her brow, the white
-rose lay on her pulseless heart. Ere the echo of the wedding
-march had died on the air, it was merged into a requiem dirge of
-woe.
-</p>
-<p>
-Ah this spray of brown leaves! what memories lie folded in its
-veins! A picture of a lone, far away grave rises, and by its side
-kneel a wife and daughter, come from a great distance to pay some
-tribute to a beloved one's last resting-spot in a land of
-strangers. Desolate looked the bare, uncultivated mound; but at
-the head some tender stranger's hand had placed a plain wooden
-cross to mark the spot for the absent ones, and planted a wild
-rose which twined its arms over and around the cross in graceful
-beauty, as if to offer a poor substitute for the visits of loving
-friends. How warmly the prayers of the widow went forth for that
-unknown one who had thus filled the place and thoughtfulness of
-the absent!
-</p>
-<p>
-A prisoner walks rapidly up and down the parapet of the Capitol
-prison in Washington, the wild throbbings of his heart keeping
-time to the tramp, tramp of his restless feet, which long for
-space, for liberty, and the sound of the brother voices that send
-their wild echo from the other side of the Potomac. Suddenly the
-laughter of a child's voice sounds above him, and, as he in
-surprise raises his eyes, lo! a cherub head looks from a window
-down upon him, and the little hands drop at his feet a half-blown
-rose.
-</p>
-<p>
-"War's wild alarum call" suddenly dies out, and the soldier's
-dream of glory gives place to the man's warm love. The wide blue
-sea no longer rolls between him and home, and over and above the
-din of battle floats the voice of mother and sister in loving
-prayer for the absent one, who, impelled by a noble people's cry
-for aid, hastened to the rescue, and found instead of the
-<i>élan</i> of battle the cold, dark walls of a prison home. Lo!
-the power and pathos of a little child and a fragile flower
-within the walls of a dungeon.
-</p>
-<p>
-A father kneels in grief unutterable by the soulless body of a
-little daughter. In the agony of his rebellious grief, he prays
-to God to send him one ray of comfort, one gleam of light, to see
-and know that the transition is at least well for her. As he
-raises his head, his eyes fall upon the family Bible, and with
-the prayer still in his heart he opens its leaves, and  his
-finger, as if guided by an angel, falls upon these lines, "And he
-took the damsel by her hand, and said unto her, I say unto thee,
-arise."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_553">{553}</a></span>
-With the sacred verse, there came shining down into his heart a
-clear, sweet perception of the fact that at that very moment our
-Lord Jesus Christ, who alone is the resurrection and the life,
-was raising up out of her cold and lifeless form that beautiful,
-spiritual body in which little Lucy will exist as an angel for
-ever. He plucked some white and green leaves from the flowers
-which lay in the dead child's hands, and placed them on that
-verse of the sacred volume.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Years have passed away, and they are there still, pale and
-  withered, sacred little mementoes of the consolation which came
-  like a voice from heaven in his hour of need. When he is
-  haunted by sorrowful memories, and falls into states of
-  desolation and despair, he opens that holy book, and kisses
-  those faded leaves, and his spirit is sometimes elevated into
-  that mount which the three disciples ascended with their Lord,
-  and there, by the permission of the same Redeemer who makes
-  every child an image of himself, he sees the body of his little
-  daughter transfigured in glory!" [Footnote 162]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 162: <i>Our Children in Heaven</i>, by W. H.
-    Holcombe, M.D. ]
-</p>
-<p>
-In a white alabaster box, yellowed by the mould of years, are
-lying, side by side, a crisp, golden curl, a sprig of lily of the
-valley, and a tuberose. Through the mist of tears that fill the
-eye rise the angelic features of a little girl, the first-born of
-her mother. The joyous laughter, the music of the little feet,
-the endless activity of the waxen fingers, ere they closed
-lifelessly over those tender lily sprays, all take form and life
-in presence of these mute memorials. Other children God sent to
-console the mother for the loss of this little one, and long,
-long years have ripened them into men and women, and sent them
-forth to fill the various missions of life that separate them
-from mother and home. But to the long and early lost, the
-maternal heart now yearningly turns, as still, above all others,
-the child of her love. No stronger earthly ties stand between
-them even now; the <i>mother</i> holds her place supreme
-<i>here</i>, and feels that for her, above all others on earth,
-those little hands are folded in prayer, and that sweet-toned
-voice raised in songs of supplication.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Yet still, in all the singing,
-     Thinks haply of her song,
-   Which in that life's first springing
-     Sang to her all night long."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Comforted by such memories,
-she kisses the mute and withered
-mementoes, and, as she folds them
-again reverently, lovingly away in
-their casket, she prays that
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "When her dying couch about
-     The natural mists shall gather,
-   Some smiling angel close shall stand
-     In old Correggio's fashion,
-   And bear a <i>lily</i> in his hand
-     For death's annunciation."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_554">{554}</a></span>
-<p>
-        <h2>Catholicity And Pantheism.</h2>
-
-             <h3>Number Seven.
-<br><br>
-	 The Finite.&mdash;Continued.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-We pass to the next question: What is the end of the exterior
-action of God?
-</p>
-<p>
-God is infinite intelligence. An agent who acts by understanding
-must always act for a reason, which is as the lever of the
-intelligence. This reason is called the end of the action.
-Therefore, the external act, being the act of an infinite
-intelligence, must have an end, an object, a reason. So far
-everything is evident; but a very difficult question here arises:
-What can the end of the exterior action be? In the first place,
-it cannot be an end necessarily to be attained; for the necessity
-of the end would imply also the necessity of the means, and the
-external act in that supposition would become necessary. But
-suppose the end not necessary. God, in that case, would be free
-to accept it; and in that supposition he would either act without
-a reason, or have another reason or object for accepting an end
-not necessary to be attained; which second reason would, in its
-turn, be either necessary or not necessary. If the former, the
-same inconvenience would exist which we have pointed out before;
-if the latter, it would require a third reason to account for the
-second; and so on <i>ad infinitum</i>. The answer to this
-difficulty consists in the following doctrine. The reason by
-which an agent acts may be twofold: one, efficient or
-determining; the other, qualifying the action without determining
-it. Ontologically speaking, every intelligent agent must act for
-a reason, but not always be determined to act by the reason. This
-is eminently true when the agent or efficient cause is the first
-and universal agent. In this case there would be a contradiction,
-if the first and universal agent were to act by a reason
-determining him to the act. For then the predicate would destroy
-the subject; that is, if the first and universal agent were to
-act by a determining reason, he would no longer be first, but
-second agent; no longer universal, but particular. Because in
-that case the final cause would move him, and thus he would
-neither be the first nor the cause of everything. This theory
-resolves the question of the end of the external act. There
-exists neither an intrinsic reason on the part of the agent to
-determine him to act outside himself, nor an exterior reason on
-the part of the term to impel him to act, as we have already
-demonstrated. Consequently, there can be no determining reason
-for the external act, and the act must determine itself. The
-efficient or determining reason of the external act is the choice
-of the act which is absolute master of itself; it lies in its
-liberty: and here applies with strict truth that saying, "Stat
-pro ratione voluntas." And necessarily so, since the first agent
-either determines himself without any efficient reason, or he is
-determined by the reason; and in that case he is no longer first,
-but second. But then God acts outside himself without any reason?
-Without any efficient and determining reason, independent of his
-own act, it is granted; without a sufficient reason to make the
-act rational, it is denied.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_555">{555}</a></span>
-If there be a reason which qualifies the act, it is sufficient
-and rational. Now, for instance, to create finite substances is
-to create substantial good; hence the act of creating them must
-be good, and therefore rational. And since every finite being, or
-its perfection, is good, inasmuch as it resembles the infinite
-goodness and perfection of God, it follows that, as St. Thomas
-says, the goodness of God is the end of the external act.
-<i>Divina bonitas est finis omnium rerum</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-The determination of the end of the exterior act, which is the
-goodness of God, as we have explained it, gives rise to another
-question, which has occupied the highest intellects among
-philosophers and theologians, and of which we must speak, to pave
-our way to lay down the whole plan of the exterior action of God,
-as proclaimed by the Catholic Church.
-</p>
-<p>
-Finite beings are capable of indefinite perfection. An assemblage
-of finite beings would form a cosmos, or universe; and as they
-are capable of indefinite perfections, we may suppose an
-indefinite number of these, one more perfect than the other, all
-arrayed in beautiful order in the intelligence of the Creator, in
-which the intelligibility of all possible things resides. The
-question arises here, suppose God has determined to act outside
-himself, which of the whole series of the ideal worlds residing
-in his intelligence shall he choose? Can he choose any of them?
-Is he bound to choose the best?
-</p>
-<p>
-The reader will remark that this question is different from that
-of the end of creation. The one establishes that God cannot be
-forced by any reason to act outside himself, else he would not be
-the first and universal cause. The other question that is
-proposed now, supposes that God has determined freely and
-independently of any reason to act outside himself, and asks
-whether God can choose any of the possible ideal worlds residing
-in his intellect, or is he forced to choose the best in the
-series?
-</p>
-<p>
-Some philosophers, among whom are Leibnitz and Malebranche,
-contend that God is absolutely free to create or not to create;
-but once he has determined to create, he is bound to choose the
-best possible cosmos in the series. We shall let them expound
-their system in their own words.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "God," says Leibnitz, "is the supreme reason of things, because
-  those which are limited, like everything which comes under our
-  vision and experience, are contingent and have nothing in them
-  which may render their existence necessary; it being manifest
-  that time, space, and matter, united and uniform in themselves,
-  and indifferent to everything, may receive every other movement
-  and figure and be in another order. We must, therefore, seek
-  for a reason for the existence of the world, which is the whole
-  assemblage of contingent beings, and seek it in that substance
-  which carries within itself the reason of its own existence,
-  and which is consequently necessary and eternal.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It is necessary also that this cause should be intelligent,
-  because the world which exists now, being contingent, and an
-  infinity of other worlds being equally possible, and equally
-  claiming existence, so to speak, it is necessary that the cause
-  of this world should have looked into all such possible worlds
-  to determine upon one.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_556">{556}</a></span>
-   This look or relation of an existing substance to simple
-   possibilities can only be the intelligence which possesses
-   their ideas; and to determine upon one, can only be the act of
-   a will which chooses. The power of such substance renders its
-   will efficacious. Power has relation to being; intelligence,
-   to truth; the will, to good. This cause, moreover, must be
-   infinite in every possible manner, and absolutely perfect in
-   power, in wisdom, in goodness; because it reaches all
-   possibility. And as all this goes together, we can only admit
-   one such substance. Its intelligence is the source of
-   metaphysical essences; its will, the origin of existences.
-   Behold, in a few words, the proof of one God with all his
-   perfections, and of the origin of things by him!
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Now, this supreme wisdom, allied to a goodness no less
-  infinite, could not fail to choose the best. For as a lesser
-  evil is a kind of good, so a lesser good is a kind of evil; and
-  there would be something to correct in the action of God, if
-  there were a means to do better. And as in mathematics when
-  there is neither a maximum nor a minimum&mdash;in fact, no
-  difference at all&mdash;all is done equally, or, when this is
-  impossible, nothing is done, [Footnote 163] so we may say the
-  same in respect to perfect wisdom, which is no less regulated
-  than mathematics, that if there had not been a best one among
-  all possible worlds God would not have created any. I call
-  world the whole series and collection of all existing things,
-  that none may say that several worlds might exist in different
-  times and places. For in that case they would be counted
-  together as one world, or, if you prefer, universe. And
-  although one might fill all time and space, it would always be
-  true that they could be filled in an infinity of manners, and
-  that there is an infinity of worlds possible; among which it is
-  necessary that God should have selected the best, because he
-  does nothing without acting according to supreme reason."
-  [Footnote 164]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 163: If it is required, for instance, to draw the
-    shortest possible line from the centre to the circumference
-    of a circle, you may draw a line to every point of the
-    circumference, and there is no reason why a line should be
-    drawn to any one point rather than to another. Or, if an
-    object at the centre is attracted equally to every point in
-    the circumference, it cannot move in any direction, but
-    remains at rest.&mdash;ED.]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 164: Leibnitz. Theod. P. I., par 8.]
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-   Malebranche, in his ninth metaphysical conversation, after
-   having laid down the principle that the end of creation is the
-   glory of God, concludes that God must choose the best possible
-   cosmos, because thereby he would gain greater glory than if he
-   chose any of the series. "That which God wishes solely,
-   directly, and absolutely in his designs, is to act in the most
-   divine manner possible; it is to impress upon his conduct, as
-   well as upon his work, the character of his attributes; it is
-   to act exactly according to what, and to all he is. God has
-   seen from all eternity all possible works, and all possible
-   ways of producing them; and as he does not act but for his own
-   glory and according to what he is, he has determined to will
-   that work which could be effected and maintained by ways which
-   must honor him more than any other work produced in a
-   different manner."
-</p>
-<p>
-The principles of this theory are two. One is to admit a
-necessity on the part of God to choose the best possible world in
-the series; the other is to suppose from reason that there is a
-best possible cosmos, as Leibnitz does; in other words, it is to
-limit the question only to the creative moment, and not to the
-whole external action of God. Now, we think that both
-propositions are false. As regards the first, why should God
-choose the best? For three reasons, according to the German
-philosopher.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_557">{557}</a></span>
-The first is as follows: A lesser good is a kind of evil, if it
-be opposed to a greater good. But if God chose any world of the
-series in preference to the best, he would prefer a lesser good
-to a greater; hence, he would prefer a kind of evil to good, and
-the world chosen would be a kind of evil. The major of the
-syllogism might be granted, though not perfectly correct, if a
-lesser good were opposed to a greater which must necessarily be
-effected, but not otherwise. Suppose, among a number of actions,
-one more perfect than the other, of which I am not bound to
-perform any, I choose to perform any of the series, rejecting all
-others; how would the action which I choose to perform be a kind
-of evil? If I was bound to perform the best, and preferred one
-which is less so, in a certain sense we might grant that the one
-I select is a kind of evil. But when I am not bound to perform
-any, the one I choose, though not the most perfect, cannot change
-its nature of good because I might, if I preferred, perform a
-more perfect one. The argument, therefore, of Leibnitz, supposes
-what is to be proved, that God <i>was</i> bound to effect the
-best possible cosmos; for only in that case it might be said that
-he preferred a certain kind of evil to good. His second reason is
-not more solid than the first: If God did not choose the best, we
-might find something to correct in his action, because there
-would be a means to do better. We might find something to correct
-in the action of God, if, in the world he chose in preference to
-the best, there was something wanting in the attributes and
-properties required by its nature. But if the world that God
-chooses is endowed with all its essential attributes and proper
-elements, certainly there would be nothing at all to correct in
-it. When that great Italian artist drew a fly upon the picture of
-his master, so true to nature that the master on coming home went
-right up to the canvas to chase it away, if any one holding the
-opinion of Leibnitz had told him, "There is something to correct
-in your fly, because you could have painted a madonna or a
-saint," the painter would certainly have been astonished, and his
-answer would have been, "I might do a greater and better work;
-but you cannot discover any defect in my fly, because you cannot
-deny that, though a fly, it is a masterpiece of art." The same
-reason holds good with regard to the subject in question. God
-might certainly do better; but if he prefers not to create the
-best possible cosmos, and selects any of the series, if the one
-selected is endowed with all the elements its nature requires, it
-is perfect in its own order; and no one could discover any flaw
-or defect in it, but every one would be obliged to call it a
-masterpiece. The last reason of Leibnitz has much less
-foundation, and savors very strongly of pantheism: If there had
-not been a best possible world in the series of all the possible
-ones, God would not have created any. This means neither more nor
-less than that the world, or the aggregate of all contingent
-beings, unless it had a kind of absolute perfection, would be
-impossible. It is tantamount to denying the very possibility of
-creation. Because a best possible world cannot be had; for the
-nature of all contingent beings is like number, which progresses
-indefinitely, without ever reaching to a number beyond which you
-cannot go. Consequently, the nature of contingent things, though
-capable of indefinite progress, is altogether incapable,
-ontologically speaking, of absolute perfection; a perfection
-which would be required to effect a world truly the best.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_558">{558}</a></span>
-If, therefore, such ultimate perfection is required in order that
-God may create, it is evident that creation is impossible, and
-that optimism runs into pantheism. The argument drawn from the
-sufficient reason also fails. If God were to choose a cosmos less
-perfect in preference to one more perfect, he would have no
-sufficient reason for the preference. This argument fails, first,
-because a cosmos, the very best and most perfect, cannot be had,
-as we have hinted just now. Therefore, there is no necessity for
-any sufficient reason for choice. Suppose a series of worlds, one
-more perfect than the other, arrayed in the mind of God according
-to numerical order. If God were to choose the tenth in the
-series, there would be no sufficient reason for his preferring it
-to the eleventh; and if he were to select this last, there would
-be no sufficient reason for his preferring it to the twelfth, and
-so on indefinitely; and as we cannot reach to a cosmos which
-would be the last and the highest in perfection, so there never
-could be a sufficient reason for the preference of any.
-Consequently; there being no sufficient reason for preferring any
-cosmos of the series, God is free to choose any.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the second place, even if there could be a best possible
-cosmos, the reason alleged by Leibnitz would not, on that
-account, oblige God to choose it. For a reason may be objectively
-or subjectively sufficient; that is, its sufficiency may emerge
-from the object to be created, or from the agent. Now, granting
-the principle of the German philosopher, God might have a
-subjective reason to make him act according to the requirements
-of wisdom, even in preferring any cosmos of the series and
-rejecting the best. This subjective reason might be to show and
-to put beyond any possibility of doubt his absolute freedom and
-independence in the creative act. No optimist can deny that this
-may have been a sufficient reason for the creative act.
-Consequently, even granting the possibility of a best possible
-world, God was not bound to create it.
-</p>
-<p>
-The reason of Malebranche is not more conclusive than those we
-have just refuted. God must prefer the best possible cosmos,
-because this alone would manifest his glory in the best possible
-manner. The argument would be conclusive if it were proven that
-God does wish to, or must manifest his glory in the best possible
-manner. But this the French philosopher does not and cannot
-prove. Because the best possible manner for God to manifest his
-infinite excellence is, to cause an infinite effect. Now, this is
-a contradiction in terms.
-</p>
-<p>
-The second position of the optimists to which we object is, to
-assume the possibility of a best possible cosmos, as Leibnitz
-does, from <i>reason</i>. Now, we contend that reason alone,
-unaided by revelation, proves decidedly the contrary; it proves
-that, ontologically speaking, a best possible cosmos cannot
-exist, and that if there be a way by which to raise the cosmos to
-a certain ultimate perfection, or perfection beyond which it
-could not be supposed to go, this is altogether outside and
-beyond the province of reason alone, and must be determined by
-revelation. We have already alluded to this in the examination of
-the third argument of Leibnitz. The best possible cosmos implies
-a certain ultimate and absolute perfection. Now, ontologically
-speaking, this is impossible in finite beings. For the question
-here is between two extremes, the finite and the infinite.
-Between the two lies the indefinite.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_559">{559}</a></span>
-The first extreme, or the finite, may be supposed to ascend the
-ladder of perfection, or quantity of being, indefinitely, without
-ever reaching the infinite; because its nature is essentially
-immutable, as every other essence. Hence, suppose it as great in
-perfection as you can, it will be always finite, and consequently
-you may always suppose a greater still. Hence, admitting a series
-of numberless worlds one ontologically more perfect than the
-other, and you can never arrive at one of which you may say this
-is the best, because you can always suppose a better still.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Thomas with his eagle glance saw, centuries before, the birth
-of optimism, and refuted it triumphantly, in the following
-argument, similar to that which we have just given. Asking the
-question, whether the divine intellect is limited to certain
-determinate effects, he denies it thus: "We have proved," he
-says, "the infinity of the divine essence. Now, however you may
-multiply the number of finite beings, they can never approximate
-the infinite, the latter surpassing any number of finite beings,
-even if it be supposed infinite. On the other hand, it is clear
-that, besides God, no being is infinite, because every being
-comes under some category of genus or species. Therefore, no
-matter of what quality the divine effects are supposed to be, or
-what quantity of perfections they may contain, it is in the
-nature of the divine essence infinitely to excel them, and hence
-the possibility of an indefinite number of them. Consequently,
-the divine intellect cannot be limited to this or that effect."
-</p>
-<p>
-This argument might be abridged thus: The nature of the infinite
-and of the finite being immutable, the infinite must always
-surpass, infinitely, the finite. Hence there can be no definite
-term assigned to the perfection of the finite, and consequently
-there cannot be a cosmos ultimate and absolute in perfection. Our
-reason, therefore, does not support the optimists in supposing a
-most perfect cosmos; on the contrary, it shows that, as to
-essence and nature, there cannot be a cosmos the perfection of
-which can be supposed to be ultimate, and in a certain manner
-absolute; in other words, limiting the question to the creative
-moment which effects ontological perfection only, a best possible
-cosmos cannot be had. Moreover, if there be a way by which to
-raise the cosmos to a certain ultimate and absolute perfection,
-reason can tell us also that it must be altogether supernatural,
-and to it superintelligible. In other words, this way must be a
-moment or moments of the action of God, distinct from the
-creative moment, and causing effects above and beyond the nature
-and essential attributes of every possible cosmos, ontologically
-considered.
-</p>
-<p>
-For if this way of raising the cosmos to an ultimate perfection
-were the same moment of the action of God which creates essences
-and proper attributes, it could not correspond to the effect
-desired&mdash;that of raising the cosmos to a certain absolute
-perfection. Because, when we speak of a creative moment effecting
-essences and attributes, we consider the cosmos ontologically;
-and ontologically the cosmos cannot have an absolute and ultimate
-perfection. The creative moment creates substances and essential
-attributes; hence if the moment of raising the cosmos to an
-ultimate perfection were identified with the creative moment, it
-would always effect substances and essential attributes&mdash;that is,
-a cosmos indefinitely progressive&mdash;and could not give us a cosmos
-absolute in perfection. Therefore the moment or moments of the
-action of God raising the cosmos to a certain absolute perfection
-must be distinct from the creative moment, and must produce
-effects above and beyond every possible cosmos, ontologically
-considered.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_560">{560}</a></span>
-<p>
-Now, that which implies a moment of the action of God, distinct
-from the creative moment and causing effects above and beyond
-every possible cosmos, is called supernatural, because beyond and
-above nature or essence. Therefore, the way of raising the cosmos
-to a certain absolute perfection must be supernatural in its
-cause and in its effects.
-</p>
-<p>
-If supernatural in its cause and in its effects, it is evident
-that this way is superintelligible to reason. Because reason,
-being an effect of the creative moment, cannot understand that
-which is above and beyond it in its cause and in its effects.
-</p>
-<p>
-Hence, reason cannot determine whether there is such a way, or
-what this way is; and must necessarily leave these two questions
-to be determined by revelation.
-</p>
-<p>
-Another problem, closely connected with the one which we have
-just discussed, presents itself here. It is as follows: In the
-supposition that God could find a way by which to raise the
-cosmos to a certain ultimate perfection, it is asked whether the
-divine goodness, which is the end of the exterior action of God,
-contains in itself a principle of fitness and agreeableness to
-incline it to effect this best possible cosmos. This question, as
-the reader is aware, is altogether different from optimism. This
-opinion contends that God <i>must</i> create the best possible
-cosmos. The question we propose now asks whether divine goodness,
-which is the end of the external action of God, may be inclined
-to effect it in force of reason of fitness and agreeableness
-between divine goodness and the best possible production of it, a
-reason of fitness which implies no manner of obligation or
-necessity whatever.
-</p>
-<p>
-We answer it affirmatively; it having the support of all Catholic
-tradition, and the proof of it is to be found in the very force
-of the terms&mdash;God is infinite goodness; in acting outside
-himself, he effects finite goodness. Now, finite goodness and
-infinite goodness are agreeable to each other; therefore, if
-there be a way of raising finite goodness to a certain absolute
-goodness, it will be most agreeable to infinite goodness.
-[Footnote 165]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 165: S. Th. S. T. p. 3. q. I.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Before we enter upon the explanation of the whole plan of the
-exterior works of God, it is necessary to notice another point
-altogether within the reach and province of reason; this is, to
-assign some general laws which must govern the exterior action of
-God.
-</p>
-<p>
-Reason, as we have seen, cannot of itself tell whether there may
-be a way of exalting the cosmos to a certain ultimate perfection,
-and thus rendering it the best possible cosmos; again, reason
-cannot tell whether God has or has not chosen to effect it. But,
-admitting the supposition that there is such a way, and that God
-has preferred it, reason can assign some laws, which it conceives
-must necessarily govern his exterior action, if he chooses to
-effect the best possible cosmos. Nor is this going beyond the
-sphere or province of reason, or infringing upon the rights of
-revelation. Because, although the premises are superintelligible,
-and to be declared by revelation, yet the premises once given,
-reason may lawfully and safely deduce some consequences,
-evidently flowing from those premises. In this case, the premises
-would be superintelligible; the consequences springing from them
-altogether intelligible.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_561">{561}</a></span>
-<p>
-Reason, therefore, affirms that if God chooses to make the best
-possible cosmos, the effectuation of such cosmos must be governed
-by the laws of <i>variety</i>, of <i>unity</i>, of
-<i>hierarchy</i>, of <i>continuity</i>, of <i>communion</i>, of
-<i>secondary agency</i>. The first imports that, if God intends
-to effect the best possible manifestations of himself, to which
-the best possible cosmos would correspond, he must effect a
-<i>variety</i> of moments, a <i>variety</i> of species, of
-individuals under each species, except when the nature and the
-object of the moment admits no variety or multiplicity. St.
-Thomas proves the necessity of such a law by the following
-argument: "Every agent," he says, "intends to stamp his own
-likeness on the effect he produces, as far as the nature of the
-effect will permit, and the more perfect the agent, the stronger
-is the likeness he impresses upon his effect."
-</p>
-<p>
-God is a most perfect agent; it was fitting therefore that he
-should impress his own likeness on his exterior works as
-perfectly as their nature would allow. Now, a perfect likeness of
-God cannot be expressed by one moment or species of effects;
-because it is a principle of ontology that, when the effect is
-necessarily inferior in nature to the cause, as in the present
-case of the cosmos with regard to God, the perfections, which in
-the cause are united and, as it were, gathered together into one
-intense perfection, cannot be expressed in one effect, but ask
-for a variety and multiplicity of effects. The truth of this
-principle may be seen in the following example. What is the
-reason that we must frequently make use of a variety of words to
-express one idea? The reason lies in the objective and
-ontological difference of the nature of the two terms. The idea
-is simple, spiritual, intelligible; words are a material sound.
-The one in its nature is far superior to the other; the idea is
-possessed of more being, more perfection than words. Hence the
-one cannot be expressed and rendered by the other, except through
-a variety and multiplicity of terms. Consequently this example
-illustrates the principle that, when an effect is inferior in
-nature to its cause, whatever perfections are found in the cause,
-as united and simplified in one perfection, cannot be rendered or
-expressed except by a multiplicity and variety of effects. What
-we have said of language may be affirmed of every fine art, as
-painting, sculpture, music, etc. The type which creates them is
-always one and simple; it cannot be expressed except in a variety
-and multiplicity of forms.
-</p>
-<p>
-The best manifestations, therefore, of God's transcendental
-excellence cannot be rendered and mirrored except through a
-variety of moments, of species, and of individuals.
-</p>
-<p>
-The law of variety asks for the law of <i>hierarchy</i>. For
-variety cannot exist except by supposing a greater or less amount
-of perfection in the terms composing the series, one being
-varying from the other by possessing a greater amount of
-ontological perfections. Now, by admitting a greater or less
-amount of being, we admit a superiority on the part of that which
-is endowed with more ontological perfection, and an inferiority
-on the part of that which is endowed with less; and each being
-composing the cosmos, keeping its own place according to the
-general order, and in relation to other beings, it follows that
-this superiority on the part of one, and inferiority on the part
-of the other, founded on the intrinsic worth of their respective
-essences, establishes and explains the law of hierarchy.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_562">{562}</a></span>
-<p>
-The third law is that of unity, which implies that the variety of
-the different moments composing the cosmos must be brought
-together so as to form a perfect whole. For, first, if the
-variety of moments, of species and individuals, is requisite in
-order to express the intensity of the ontological perfection and
-excellence of the type of the universe, which is the infinite
-grandeur of God, unity, also, is required, in order to express
-the simplicity and entirety of the type. In the second place,
-what would be the cosmos without unity but a numberless and
-confused assemblage of beings? Hence, whatever may be the variety
-of the moments and species of the cosmos, they must necessarily
-be brought together as parts and components of one harmonic
-whole. The nature of this unity will be gathered from the
-explanation of the other laws. And first, it begins to be
-sketched out by the law of continuity. This implies that there
-should be a certain proportion between each moment of the cosmos,
-between one species and another, and between the degrees and
-gradations within the species, all as far as the nature of the
-terms will permit. Hence, the law embraces two parts:
-</p>
-<p>
-1st. The necessity of the greatest number of moments and of
-species, as much as possible alike to each other, without ever
-being confounded.
-</p>
-<p>
-2d. The greatest possible number of gradations within the same
-species, in proportion as individuals partake more or less fully
-of the species.
-</p>
-<p>
-To give an instance: the first part of this law explains why
-substantial creation is composed of, 1st, atoms which do not give
-any signs of sensitive life; 2d, of brute animals; 3d, of
-intelligent animals; 4th, of pure spirits. The second part of
-this law explains why each of the four species just mentioned is
-developed in gradations almost infinite&mdash;minerals composed and
-recomposed in all possible ways, manifesting forms, properties,
-and acts altogether different, and some so constantly as to defy
-any change from the force of nature so far known to man; hence,
-in force of that immutable type, they are taken by naturalists as
-so many scientific species, and the fifty-nine or sixty elements
-which chemistry so far enumerates; animals also, extending so
-gradually that the ladder of fixed marks, taken by natural
-philosophers as so many species, begins where the signs of life
-are almost insensible and dubious, and ends with man; nor is
-there wanting, as far as it may be known, any of the intermediate
-steps.
-</p>
-<p>
-The pure spirits, as we know from revelation, are divided into
-choirs and legions innumerable, whose successive gradations in
-quality and number, to us unknown but certain, are unfathomable;
-and it is most probable that the ladder of pure spirits is
-higher, beyond measure, than that which we observe in the
-sensible universe, and that one spirit is far more superior and
-distant from another spirit than one star from another.
-</p>
-<p>
-The necessity of this law springs from that of unity. For, if the
-type of the cosmos be one, each moment and species representing,
-as it were, a side of that type, there must be as much affinity
-and proportion between each moment and each species as to pave
-the way for the law of unity to represent and mirror the entirety
-and oneness of the type. We say as much affinity as it is
-possible to produce, because between each moment and each species
-there is necessarily a chasm which no continuity or affinity can
-fill up. For instance, between pure animality and pure
-intelligence there is necessarily a chasm. Man, placed between
-the two, draws them together as much as possible; yet the
-necessary distance marking the two distinct natures cannot by any
-proportion be eliminated, else the natures would be confounded
-and destroyed.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_563">{563}</a></span>
-<p>
-But variety, brought together by the law of continuity, cannot
-sufficiently exhibit unity. Hence the necessity of a fourth law,
-that of <i>communion</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-This law implies, 1st, that the terms of the cosmos should be so
-united together as to act one upon the other, and serve each
-other for sustenance and development; 2d, that, founded on the
-law of hierarchy, inferior beings should be so united to superior
-ones as to be, in a certain sense, transformed into them, the
-distinctive marks of their respective natures being kept
-inviolate.
-</p>
-<p>
-This law, in both its aspects, we see actuated in the visible
-universe. Thus man has need of food, which is administered to him
-by brutes and the vegetable kingdom; he has need of air, to
-breathe; of light, to see; of his kind, to multiply and to form
-society. All other animals have need of beings different from
-themselves to maintain their own existence; and of their like, to
-multiply their species. The vegetable kingdom needs minerals,
-earth, water, and the different saps by which it lives. If
-vegetables did not expel oxygen and absorb carbonic acid, air
-would become unfit for the respiration of animals; and these
-sending back, by respiration, carbonic acid, supply that
-substance of which plants stand in need. Everything, moreover, in
-the world serves for the development and perfection of man, both
-as to his body and as to his intellectual, moral, and social
-life. Every inferior creature is transformed into man. The same
-animal and vegetable kingdom which, transformed into his blood,
-sustains his life, helps him for the development of his ideas and
-his will. The reason of this law, which may be called the law of
-life, is, that the unity of the cosmos should not be only
-apparent and fictitious, but real. Now, a real union is
-impossible if the terms united exercise no real action upon each
-other, and do not serve for the maintenance and development of
-each other.
-</p>
-<p>
-Finally, the law of communion calls for the law of secondary
-agency; that is, the effects resulting from the moments of the
-exterior action of God should be real agents. For no real union
-and communion could exist among the terms of the external action
-unless they really acted one upon another; any other union or
-communion being simply fictitious and imaginary. Hence
-Malebranche, in his system of occasional causes, where he
-deprives finite beings of real agency, has not only undermined
-the liberty of man, but destroyed the real communion among
-creatures, and marred the beauty and harmony of the cosmos. To
-represent the cosmos as a numberless series of beings united
-together by no other tie than juxtaposition, and by no means
-really acting upon each other, is to break its connection, its
-real and living unity; is to do away with the whole beauty and
-harmony of that hymn and canticle which God has composed to his
-own honor and glory.
-</p>
-<p>
-We come now to the last question: What is the whole plan of the
-exterior action of God? We have seen that if there be a way by
-which to effect a cosmos endowed with a certain absolute
-perfection, that it would be most agreeable to infinite goodness,
-the end of the exterior action of God. We have seen, moreover,
-that whether there be such a way, and what this way is, must be
-determined by revelation. The Catholic Church, therefore, the
-living embodiment of revelation, must answer these two problems.
-</p>
-<p>
-It answers both affirmatively. The most perfect cosmos is
-possible. God has effected it, because most agreeable to his
-infinite goodness.
-</p>
-<p>
-What is this cosmos? We shall give it in the following synoptic
-table.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_564">{564}</a></span>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  God's exterior action divided into:
-    The hypostatic moment;
-    The beatific, or palingenesiacal moment;
-    The sublimative moment;
-    The creative moment.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The terms corresponding to each moment of the action of God are:
-</p>
-
-<p class="cite">
-  The Theanthropos, or Jesus Christ,
-  God and man, centre of the whole plan;<br>
-  Beatific cosmos;<br>
-  Sublimative cosmos;<br>
-  Substantial cosmos.<br>
-  Individual terms of each cosmos:<br>
-    1. Beatified angels and men;<br>
-    2. Regenerated men on the earth;<br>
-    3. Angels, or pure spirits;<br>
-  Men, or incarnate spirits;<br>
-  Sensitive beings;<br>
-  Organic beings;<br>
-  Inorganic beings.
-</p>
-<p>
-As each moment of the action of God, as the creative, implies two
-subordinate moments, preservation and concurrence, it follows
-that each moment of the action of God implies its immanence and
-concurrence, though in the Theanthropos it takes place according
-to special laws. Hence,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Hypostatic immanence and concurrence;<br>
-  Beatific immanence and concurrence;<br>
-  Creative immanence and concurrence.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<br>
-     <h2>To A Favorite Madonna.</h2>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  Lady Mary, throne of grace,
-    Imaged with thy Child before me!
-  Softly beams the perfect face,
-    Fragrant breathes its pureness o'er me.
-
-  I but gaze, and all my soul
-    Thrills as with a taste of heaven.
-  Passion owns the sweet control;
-    Peace assures of sin forgiven.
-
-  Oh! then, what thy loveliness
-    Where it shines divinely real,
-  If its strength has such excess
-    Feebly shadowed in ideal!
-
-  From thy arms thy Royal Son
-    Waits to fill us past our needing:
-  Hears for all, denied to none,
-    Thy resistless whisper pleading.
-
-  Dream, say they, for poet's eye?
-    <i>Thou</i> a dream! Then truth is seeming.
-  Only let me live and die
-    Safely lost in such a dreaming!
-
-                           B. D. H.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_565">{565}</a></span>
-
-       <h3>Translated From The French.</h3>
-
-   <h2>To Those Who Tell Us What Time It Is.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-Before introducing our subject, my dear reader, let me give a
-moment to a little person whose caprices equal those of any woman
-living.
-</p>
-<p>
-Brilliant as the most fashionable beauty, she never goes without
-her diamonds and rubies in their golden setting, and of which she
-is equally proud.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her little babbling is heard continually; and while she boasts
-her independent movements, like any prisoner or slave she always
-wears her chain.
-</p>
-<p>
-I call her a little person, because she accompanies me
-everywhere; though sometimes she stops while I walk, and goes
-again when I am inclined to stop.
-</p>
-<p>
-This delicate, fantastical organization, so difficult to
-discipline, and as subject to the influences of cold and heat as
-any nervous lady or chilly invalid, is Mademoiselle&mdash;my watch.
-</p>
-<p>
-You have nearly all, my dear readers, a watch of silver or gold
-in your vest-pocket, and you can have them of wood or
-mother-of-pearl, with one great advantage: they cannot be pawned.
-</p>
-<p>
-Ladies wear watches whose cases shine with their diamonds like
-the decorations of a great officer of the Legion of Honor. And
-they can have them inserted in bracelets, in bon-bon boxes, and
-in buckles for sashes and belts.
-</p>
-<p>
-But I must tell you, the first accurate instruments, after the
-sun-dial and hour-glass of the ancients, were huge clocks; and
-these clocks, so immense, led artists insensibly to construct
-smaller ones for apartments, in form of pendulums, and which were
-in the beginning very imperfect.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then others still more skilful conceived the idea of portable
-clocks, to which they gave the name of <i>montres</i>, (watches,
-in English,) from <i>montrer</i>, to show.
-</p>
-<p>
-But at first these ornaments were very awkward, and of
-inconvenient size for the pocket to which they were destined.
-</p>
-<p>
-Finally, however, they were lessened to such a point that they
-graced the heads of canes, the handles of fans, and even the
-setting of rings, and were about the size of a five-cent silver
-piece.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is to Hook, a physician and English philosopher, born in 1635,
-died in 1702, that we owe the invention of pocket watches.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1577, the first watches were brought from Germany to England.
-They had been made at Nuremberg for the first time in the year
-1500, and were called the eggs of Nuremberg, on account of their
-oval form.
-</p>
-<p>
-At last a man appeared who, not content to enchain time,
-endeavored to force matter to represent with greater accuracy the
-flight of years. This was Julien le Roy, the most skilful
-practical philosopher that France ever had. Always on the <i>qui
-vive</i> for everything useful and curious, as soon as he heard
-of the watches of the celebrated Graham, he imported the first
-one seen in Paris, and not until he had proved it would he
-relinquish it to M. Maupertuis. Graham, in turn, procured all he
-could from Julien le Roy.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_566">{566}</a></span>
-One day my Lord Hamilton was showing one of these wonderful
-repeaters to several persons. "I wish I were younger," said
-Graham, "to be able to make one after this model."
-</p>
-<p>
-This illustrious Maupertuis, who accompanied the king of Prussia
-to the battle-field, was made prisoner at Molwitz and conducted
-to Vienna. The grand-duke of Tuscany&mdash;since emperor&mdash;wished to
-see a man with so great a reputation.
-</p>
-<p>
-He treated him with respect, and asked him if he had not
-regretted much of the baggage stolen from him by the hussars.
-Maupertuis, after being urged a long time, confessed he would
-gladly have saved an old watch of Graham's, which he used for his
-astronomical observations.
-</p>
-<p>
-The grand-duke, who owned one by the same maker, but enriched
-with diamonds, said to the French mathematician, "Ah! the hussars
-have wished to play you a trick; they have brought me back your
-watch. Here it is; I restore it to you."
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day, as formerly, the handling of watches is an art. It is
-much more difficult to measure time than wine or cider.
-Therefore, among the members of the Bureau of Longitudes, by the
-side of the senator Leverrier, the marshal of France, (M.
-Vaillant,) the Admiral Matthieu, is placed the simple
-clock-maker, M. Bregnet.
-</p>
-<p>
-And for these artists who give us the means of knowing the hour
-it is, there is a publication as serious as the <i>Journal of
-Debates</i>, called the <i>Chronometrical Review</i>. It
-certainly should be regularly sent to its subscribers. If the
-carrier is late, it cannot be for want of knowing if he has
-to-day's or yesterday's paper; and the subscribers are never
-exposed to <i>chercher midi à quatorze heures</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-M. Claudius Saurrier, the chief editor of this <i>Chronometrical
-Review</i>, has also a clock-maker's annual almanac for 1869.
-This appears very abstruse at the first glance; but if we examine
-the little volume with the same nicety as a watchmaker his
-mainspring&mdash;that is to say, with a powerful magnifying glass&mdash;we
-will find some things to greatly interest us. For example, a
-sketch of different attainable speed:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td></td>         <td> Miles per hour.</td></tr>
-<tr><td> The soldier in ordinary step makes</td><td> 2¾</td></tr>
-<tr><td>  The soldier in a charge</td><td>4</td></tr>
-<tr><td>  The soldier in gymnastic exercise</td><td>7</td></tr>
-<tr><td>  The horse walking</td><td>3</td></tr>
-<tr><td>  The horse on the trot</td><td>7</td></tr>
-<tr><td>  The horse on the gallop</td><td>14</td></tr>
-<tr><td>  The horse on the race-course</td><td>30</td></tr>
-<tr><td>  The locomotive at ordinary speed</td><td>30</td></tr>
-<tr><td>  The locomotive going rapidly</td><td>60</td></tr>
- <tr><td> The current of the Seine</td><td>3</td></tr>
-<tr><td>  Steamboats</td><td> 4 to 14</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  A railroad train making thirty miles the hour would consume
-  about three hundred and fifty years in the journey from the
-  earth to the sun. More than a dozen successive generations
-  would have time to appear and disappear during the transit.
-</p>
-<p>
-But nothing can more surely measure speed than the man who says
-to his watch, "Thou givest me sixty seconds a minute, and thou
-canst go no farther."
-</p>
-<p>
-The little book which has so worthily occupied my attention is
-not contented with simply describing professional instruments. It
-plunges into old curiosity shops, and brings out the watch of
-Marat!
-</p>
-<p>
-Evidently it does not tell us if this watch was hung in the
-bathing saloon where the <i>friend of the people</i> was struck
-by the poignard of Charlotte Corday. But it gives us an exact
-description of the jewel, or rather of the <i>onion</i> of the
-celebrated and redoubtable tribune.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was, indeed, a curious watch that Marat possessed; and, if we
-cannot imagine the fashion of the epoch, which gave to every one
-an immense gewgaw, requiring a counter-weight to support it, it
-will be impossible to explain the oddity of its form.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_567">{567}</a></span>
-<p>
-It was a massive silver pear, opening into two equal parts. In
-the lower part of the fruit was found the dial; the upper
-contained engraved designs of foliage. The case of the pear
-reproduced the same model; the artist evidently had but one idea.
-Its size was that of an English pear of medium dimensions, and,
-thanks to its density, this jewel has been able to pass without
-any deterioration through the most stormy periods of the world.
-</p>
-<p>
-The almanac for clock-makers also contains its good stories. It
-relates that a thief introduced himself into a watch-store as a
-workman seeking employment, but with the design of abstracting
-the pocket-book of the proprietor. The scene is dialogued as the
-two parts of a clock containing the chimes of the north, the
-solemn stillness of the night broken by question and response,
-until they mingled in a <i>naïve contre-point</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thy purse," said the thief.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have forgotten it."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thy chain."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I only wear a ribbon."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Pshaw! no more ceremony. Look at thy watch. What hour is it?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"The hour of thy death!" replied the young man in a thundering
-voice, presenting at the same time a double-barrelled pistol at
-his head.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! oh!" said the thief, "I was only joking."
-</p>
-<p>
-"So much the worse. Come, thy purse."
-</p>
-<p>
-The thief handed it to him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thy chain."
-</p>
-<p>
-And the chain followed the purse.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thy watch."
-</p>
-<p>
-The thief, trembling from head to foot, drew out a package of
-watches, entangled one in the other.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! oh! I have you now. Get out, file to the left, turn thy
-dial, and go."
-</p>
-<p>
-And the pickpocket withdrew.
-</p>
-<p>
-The young watch-maker, perfectly astonished, went immediately to
-the mayor. They counted twenty-two watches; and the grateful
-proprietors handsomely indemnified him for his trouble, while at
-the same time he found himself, by this one stroke, with
-twenty-two good jobs and a patronage.
-</p>
-<p>
-Had I time, I could extract many more interesting things from
-this little work.
-</p>
-<p>
-For example, a description of a watch made by the grandfather of
-the present Bregnet&mdash;the perpetual watch, so called because it
-winds itself through some simple movement inserted by the maker.
-And I could give, also, good advice to wearers of watches.
-</p>
-<p>
-Where to put them at night.
-</p>
-<p>
-The manner and time to wind them, and the management of the
-little needle that makes them go slower and faster.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then, again, the injury done watches by trotting horsemen,
-especially physicians, who thereby lose an accurate guide for the
-pulse of their patients.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then I should like to consider how Abraham Bregnet made the
-sympathetic clock, upon which it is only necessary to place
-before midday or midnight a pocket repeating-watch, advancing or
-retarding it a little to allow for the time consumed, and by
-simple contact it regulates the pendulum.
-</p>
-<p>
-If M. Claudius Saurrier wants something curious for his almanac
-of the coming year, he has only to take the chapter on
-clock-making from <i>The Arts of the Middle Ages</i>, by Paul
-Lacroix. There he will see the three primitive methods of
-measuring time, namely, the sun-dial or gnomon that Anximandre
-imported from Greece; the clepsydra, where the flowing water
-indicated the flying minutes; and the hour-glass, where the sand
-took the place of the water.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_568">{568}</a></span>
-<p>
-He will find there a watch of the house of Valois placed in the
-centre of a Latin cross, and moving with it symbolical figures,
-Time, Apollo, Diana, etc.; or, again, the Virgin, the apostles
-and saints.
-</p>
-<p>
-Time has not always been lost through the instruments that
-indicate its flight. Ages have changed even palaces; and the
-Palais Royal, whose cannon gives us still the exact hour of
-mid-day, once knew no hours for its <i>habitués</i>, and vice and
-immorality consumed the time that virtue now gives to better
-purposes. The poet of 1830 said:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "The palace lives in better days,
-     And virtue holds its court supreme;
-   The sun that lent to vice its rays
-     Now gives to time its potent beam."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-But now that I have rendered every tribute to M. Claudius
-Saurrier that his special science can demand, may I not be
-equally frank with him?
-</p>
-<p>
-I don't like to know what time it is; I am seized with profound
-melancholy when the clock strikes and as the hands of my watch
-indicate the rapidity with which my life is passing.
-</p>
-<p>
-If there had never been an hourglass, a clepsydra, a clock, a
-regulator, a Swiss cuckoo, or a French chronometer, what with the
-variations of the seasons which are no longer regular&mdash;the trees
-leafing in January, and the house-tops iced in April&mdash;we might
-never be sure of anything, and lead the existence of those who
-frequented the balls of the tenor Roger. With shutters closed and
-curtains drawn, the sun excluded for four days, his guests could
-have doubted whether time had anything to do with their
-existence.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then we could so long believe ourselves young! The dreaded
-question <i>How old are you?</i> could be answered in all
-sincerity, <i>I do not know</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-One word more, however, for our pretty watch. How often has it
-been the symbol of gallantry.
-</p>
-<p>
-A lady asked a poet why he used two watches. He replied
-immediately:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Dear madam, shall I tell you why?
-     One goes too fast, and one too slow;
-   When near you I would fondly fly,
-     I use the first; the other, when I go."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<hr>
-<br>
-        <h2>New Publications.</h2>
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Catholic Doctrine Of The Atonement.<br>
-  An Historical Inquiry into its Development in the Church. With
-  an Introduction on the Principle of Theological Development.<br>
-  By Henry Nutcombe Oxenham, M.A., formerly Scholar of Balliol
-  College, Oxford.<br>
-  Second Edition. London: Allen & Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is a very scholarly treatise on an important subject. It is
-not a dogmatic work, but a work on the history of dogma. The
-author possesses a remarkable insight into the deep and sublime
-mysteries of faith, especially that of the Incarnation, and
-writes like one whose whole mind and soul have become imbued with
-the spirit of scriptural and patristic theology. His manner is
-remarkably calm, impartial, and dignified; his method of
-statement, clear and succinct; and his style is that of an
-accomplished English and classical scholar, often rising to
-passages of high poetic fervor and beauty.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_569">{569}</a></span>
-So far as the exhibition of the true doctrine of the atonement is
-concerned, beyond the critical statement of different schools of
-opinion, its chief value consists in the refutation of the
-Calvinistic doctrine, and its discrimination of the modern
-prevalent Catholic opinion derived from St. Anselm from the dogma
-properly so called. The essay on development is one of the ablest
-portions of the book. Möhler, in his <i>Athanasius</i>, has
-accused Petavius of overstating or pressing too far, in his
-controversial zeal, the well-known points of his thesis
-respecting the doctrine of the anti-Nicene fathers against Bishop
-Bull. It appears to us that Mr. Oxenham has overstepped the mark
-in the same way in regard to development in general, or at least
-has used language liable to misapprehension. We think, also, that
-the character of his mind, which is not adapted to metaphysical
-or speculative inquiries, and the influence under which his
-opinions have been formed, lead him to undervalue scholastic
-theology. There are here and there, also, indications of a bias
-toward the opinions of a certain class of French writers of the
-last century, which appears to us to be out of harmony with the
-genuine spirit of docility to the teaching of the church, and the
-<i>pietas fidei</i> with which the author is certainly animated.
-We will specify one instance of this, where Mr. Oxenham has
-exposed a most vulnerable spot in his defensive armor. It is on
-page 11 of the introductory essay, where he is rebutting the
-famous statement of Chillingworth, that there are "Popes against
-popes, councils against councils," etc. In reply to this, he
-says, "On this I have to observe, as to popes against popes,
-waiving the question of fact, their judgments, when resting on
-their own authority alone, if maintained by some theologians to
-be infallible, are as strenuously denied to be so by others. It
-is a purely open question. Councils are held by no one to be
-infallible except in matters of doctrine, and there is no case of
-doctrinal contradiction between councils universally received in
-the church as ecumenical." The author, in this specimen of most
-faulty logic, by waiving the question of fact respecting the
-dogmatic judgments of the popes, concedes everything which
-Chillingworth asserted on that point, and leaves him master of
-the field. He confines himself to one point of defence, that
-there are no dogmatic decisions of ecumenical councils which are
-contradictory to each other. But suppose there are dogmatic
-decisions of popes to which obedience is required as a term of
-communion and under pain of excommunication, which are contrary
-to dogmatic decisions of councils, what then? Suppose one pope
-requires submission to a dogmatic decision as a term of
-communion, and his successor requires the same to an opposite
-decision, what then? Can Mr. Oxenham say <i>transeat?</i> If Mr.
-Ffoulkes should write a letter to Mr. Oxenham containing an
-argument based on an affirmation that those suppositions are
-facts, against the actual position of the holy see and the
-Catholic episcopate, as against Constantinople and Canterbury,
-could Mr. Oxenham answer it conclusively without defending that
-point which he so easily gives up? That the question of the
-infallibility of the pope is not entirely closed is, of course,
-true; but it is not so wide open as an ordinary reader would
-infer it to be from the author's very inconsiderate and
-unsatisfactory way of stating the matter; nor has it ever been so
-wide open at any time since St. Peter received from our Lord the
-charge to confirm his brethren in the faith. Bossuet would never
-have exposed his flank in the unguarded manner that our author
-has done. The indefectibility of the Roman see in doctrine, and
-the duty of obedience to its dogmatic judgments, were always
-maintained by that great theologian, and by all orthodox
-Gallicans. The doctrine of what may be called passive
-infallibility is logically contained in this doctrine of Bossuet
-and in that doctrine of Catholic faith, that the pope is always
-the supreme head of the church. By passive infallibility, we mean
-a security against the separation of the pope and the Roman
-Church in doctrine from the universal church, either by apostasy
-from dogmas already defined, or by the enforcement of any new and
-false dogmas.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_570">{570}</a></span>
-The active power of the pope, as the teacher and defender of the
-faith which he perpetually proclaims to the world, and protects
-by denouncing and condemning heresy, which no Catholic questions,
-is necessarily secured by this indefectibility or passive
-infallibility from being perverted to the service of heresy or
-immorality. The only question that can be discussed between
-Catholics regarding this matter relates to the conditions and
-extent of the active infallibility of the pope. The gift of
-infallibility must necessarily preserve the dogmatic unity of the
-pope and the Catholic episcopate, and must therefore influence
-both. They are both factors in the sum of infallibility. What is
-precisely the force of each as distinct from the other is not yet
-fully and clearly defined as a canon of faith, and we are willing
-to await the result of the approaching council which will,
-probably, at least consider the question of the propriety of
-making such a canon, before applying any theological formula as a
-criterion of the orthodoxy of writers, or written statements.
-Nevertheless, we have a right to expect that every writer should
-so guard his language and statements that they be not open to a
-misconception that furnishes a convenient door for the enemy to
-enter in by.
-</p>
-<p>
-Perhaps Mr. Oxenham will not essentially dissent from the view we
-have expressed; and we have the best reason to expect that
-whatever there may be that is defective or inconsequent in his
-theological system will be filled up and harmonized by the result
-of riper thought and study. His work, as a whole, is one of the
-best and most valuable of those which have been produced by the
-sound scholars and devoted sons of the church who have been won
-to the ancient faith of England within the classic halls of
-Oxford. Every clergyman or scholar addicted to theological
-studies will find it well worthy of a place in his library, and
-of a careful perusal.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Alice Murray; a Tale.<br>
-  By Mary I. Hoffmnan, authoress of <i>Agnes Hilton</i>.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo. Pp. 490.<br>
-  New York: P. O'Shea. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-We like this story for its perfect picture of American country
-life. We get but one glimpse, and that a very imperfect one, of
-the city. We have plenty of books, good, bad, and indifferent,
-describing city life, its manners and customs, its frivolities
-and follies, and even its vices. It was, therefore, with a
-feeling of relief, that we read this volume; for, even if one can
-but seldom visit the country, still one likes to read about its
-green fields, rippling brooks, gushing springs and dark, cool
-woods, the lowing kine, and bleating sheep, and in this book we
-get a goodly dose. Miss Hoffman seems to be a practical farmer,
-and is as much at home with the butter-ladle as with the pen, and
-has a thorough disgust, as all good farmers must have, for what
-city folk often cultivate as flowers&mdash;the "pesky white daisy."
-</p>
-<p>
-The first chapters of the story are a little dull, and the place
-in which its scene is laid is not definitely stated; but further
-on, we learn that it is in Western New York. There is nothing
-extraordinary or intricate in the plot of of the story. Every
-scene and incident may have occurred just as it is related. It is
-the old story of innocence and virtue being outgeneralled for a
-while by craftiness and vice. And while we have such timid girls
-as Alice Murray, such acts of wrong are possible. It is very well
-to follow the gospel precept, and when struck upon one cheek to
-turn the other; but the gospel nowhere requires us to give in
-addition our own hand with which to smite our cheek.
-</p>
-<p>
-Alice Murray was the niece of Mr. Elbray's first wife. Her
-parents died while she was quite young, and Mr. Elbray brought
-her up as his daughter, as he had no children of his own. He was
-rich, a self-made man, and a worldly-minded Catholic, paid little
-attention to the duties or requirements of his religion, but made
-money his God.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_571">{571}</a></span>
-He became acquainted with a strong-minded, designing widow, who
-manages to make him marry her, and from that moment Alice Murray
-had actually no home. The ambitious wife had her own daughter to
-provide for, and her whole energies were bent on getting rid of
-Alice, which she succeeded in accomplishing. From her adopted
-home Alice went to her uncle Bradley&mdash;her mother's sister's
-husband&mdash;who procured her a district school. Even here, though
-miles away from her, the new Mrs. Elbray, beside intercepting all
-letters between Alice and her uncle, got up a charge against her
-of having stolen a gold chain presented to her by her <i>dear</i>
-departed husband. This was done to prevent Alice returning to her
-uncle, who was ever regretting her absence. But the crafty woman
-succeeded; Alice is discarded, and the result is, that Mrs.
-Elbray's daughter makes a brilliant match, and all the Elbray
-family move to New York, where old Elbray is ruined by his wife
-and her daughter's husband, and has to go to the almshouse, where
-he is discovered by a priest who knew him, and Alice is informed
-of the poverty of her uncle. She hesitates not a moment, accepts
-the hand of the lover she had previously refused, because she
-wished to pay back her uncle all the money he had spent on her,
-and the new-married couple go straight to New York, rescue the
-uncle from the almshouse, and take him home with them, where he
-lives in peace.
-</p>
-<p>
-The picture of the Bradley family is a beautiful one&mdash;just what a
-good Catholic family should be; in fact, all of Miss Hoffman's
-family pen-pictures are good. Her great weakness lies in her
-dialogues; they need more animation and sprightliness; and her
-very <i>bad</i> characters are better drawn than her very
-<i>good</i> ones. For instance, in Mrs. Elbray, an ambitious,
-proud, self-willed and worldly woman, we have decidedly the best
-depicted character in the book. She labors for a purpose, a bad
-purpose it is true, and succeeds, although the success was her
-ruin. Had Alice used for a good purpose one half the energy Mrs.
-Elbray did for a bad one, a world of suffering would have been
-saved her, but then <i>Alice Murray</i> would not have been
-written. We wish the writers of our Catholic stories would allow
-their good characters to act like living men and women, not mere
-machines, throwing the responsibility of all their troubles and
-tribulations upon God, and leaving it <i>all</i> in his hands to
-see justice done; but teach them to use the means God gave them
-to help themselves.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have said that Miss Hoffman's descriptions of American country
-life and scenery are good. There is one pen-picture on page 170
-that will remind many of similar scenes. The story is thoroughly
-Catholic in tone and sentiment, but is not of the belligerant
-class. There are no religious discussions indulged in for the
-sake of displaying one's theological knowledge; but the whole
-atmosphere of the book&mdash;the whole sentiment is Catholic, and the
-reader feels it, just as one in reading à Kempis would know and
-feel that the writer was a devout, practical Catholic.
-</p>
-<p>
-The typographical execution of the book might easily be improved
-by employing a better proof-reader and the use of better type.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Chips From A German Workshop.<br>
-  By Max Müller, M. A.<br>
-  2 vols. crown 8vo, pp. 374, 402.<br>
-  New York: Charles Scribner & Co.
-</p>
-<p>
-These two volumes consist of various essays, lectures, etc.,
-which Professor Müller has published from time to time during the
-intervals of his long years of labor on the Rig-Veda. They are
-all more or less closely connected with the great work to which
-he has devoted his life, and are all illustrations of a
-systematic religious philosophy. The first volume is devoted to
-essays on "The Science of Religion." The author remarks that in
-religion "everything new is old, and everything old is new, and
-there has been no entirely new religion since the beginning of
-the world." St. Augustine says that "what is now called the
-Christian religion has existed among the ancients, and was not
-absent from the beginning of the human race until Christ came in
-the flesh;" and the design of these essays is to show how the
-radical ideas of religion revealed by Almighty God at the
-beginning have undergone various changes, corruptions, and
-combinations, yet, though frequently distorted, tend again and
-again to their perfect form.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_572">{572}</a></span>
-Professor Müller traces these primitive ideas through the ancient
-religions of India and Persia, and extracts from the forbidding
-obscurity of Sanscrit literature a wealth of illustration, which,
-with his charming style and incomparable happiness in selection,
-he makes attractive to nearly all classes of readers. He studies
-the matter not as a theologian but as a coldly critical man of
-science; and his reasoning is, of course, directly in support of
-the truths of revelation. The second volume contains an essay on
-<i>Comparative Mythology</i>, and papers on early traditions and
-customs, all bearing upon the subject of the first, and many of
-them highly curious. At some future day, if opportunity permits,
-we hope to recur to these valuable "Chips," and give our readers
-a few specimens of their excellence.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Pastoral Letter Of The Most Rev. Archbishop
-  and Suffragan Prelates of the Province of
-  Baltimore, at the close of the
-  Tenth Provincial Council. May, 1869.<br>
-  Baltimore: J. Murphy & Co.
-</p>
-<p>
-This letter of the fathers of the council of Baltimore is a
-renewed evidence of the paternal affection and ceaseless
-vigilance with which the pastors of the church watch over their
-flock. On many most important points, they have spoken out with a
-clearness that must be gratifying to every Catholic heart. First
-among them is Education. We quote a portion:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Bitter experience convinces us daily more and more that a
-  purely secular education, to the exclusion of a religious
-  training, is not only an imperfect system, but is attended with
-  the most disastrous consequences to the individual and to
-  society. Among Catholics, there cannot be two opinions about
-  this subject. And we are happy to see that this practical truth
-  is beginning to find acceptance also in the minds of reflecting
-  men among our separated brethren.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The catechetical instructions given once a week in our
-  Sunday-schools, though productive of the most beneficial
-  results, are insufficient to satisfy the religious wants of our
-  children. They should every day breathe a healthy religious
-  atmosphere in those schools, where not only their minds are
-  enlightened, but where the seeds of faith, piety, and sound
-  morality are nourished and invigorated.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Children have not only <i>heads</i> to be enlightened, but,
-  what is more important, <i>hearts</i> to be formed to virtue."
-</p>
-<p>
-The most reverend archbishop has been from the first one of the
-most earnest supporters of the Catholic Publication Society, and,
-with the prelates of the council, again commends it to the
-patronage of clergy and laity.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "We desire to renew," say they, "our cordial approbation of the
-  Catholic Publication Society, recently established in New York,
-  and we earnestly hope it may receive from our clergy and laity
-  all the patronage it so well deserves.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "This society is laudably engaged in the publication of such
-  Catholic works as are peculiarly adapted to the wants of our
-  times, and it serves as a powerful auxiliary in the propagation
-  of Catholic truth.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Short religious tracts are also issued under the auspices of
-  the same society. These tracts are daily growing in popularity
-  and usefulness. In one year, about six hundred thousand of them
-  were printed and distributed. Their brevity recommends their
-  perusal to many who have neither leisure nor disposition to
-  read books treating of the same subject. Their short but
-  convincing arguments always make a favorable impression on
-  sincere minds; while their plain, familiar style renders them
-  attractive to the lowest capacity. The very moderate price at
-  which they are sold places them within the reach of all.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "We trust that our zealous missionary clergy will adopt some
-  effectual and systematic means by which the books, and
-  especially the tracts of this excellent society may be
-  regularly circulated throughout their missions, and distributed
-  among the children attending our schools."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_573">{573}</a></span>
-<p>
-These words are very encouraging and opportune; for one thing is
-sure, and that is, "The Catholic Publication Society," without
-this co-operation and sympathy, both on the part of the clergy
-and the laity, cannot accomplish the great work that is before it
-in our country.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then follow some timely words of admonition to Catholics lest
-they imbibe the loose notions which prevail among many around
-them in regard to the crime of infanticide.
-</p>
-<p>
-Next, are condemned round dances, indecent publications, and the
-obscene theatrical performances which are becoming so abundant.
-</p>
-<p>
-The remainder of the letter contains words of encouragement to
-the clergy and laity in the various charitable works in which
-they are engaged, as the erecting of protectories and orphan
-asylums, the providing churches and schools for our colored
-brethren, etc.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Fénélon's Conversations With M. De Ramsai On The Truth Of
-  Religion, With his Letters on the Immortality of the Soul, and
-  the Freedom of the Will.<br>
-  Translated from the French by A. E. Silliman. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-Fénélon was a genius and a saint. He had, moreover, the faculty
-of expressing his thoughts in a remarkably clear style, and
-throwing a peculiar charm about every subject he handled. The
-conversations with Chevalier Ramsay form a short treatise,
-proving that there is no medium between deism and Catholicism. It
-is very admirable, and Mr. Silliman has done a good service in
-translating it, with the two other short but excellent treatises
-which are appended. The translator's preface, which is perfectly
-calm and passionless in its tone, gives a brief but interesting
-sketch of Fénélon's character, and of some of the events of his
-life, and relates the circumstance which gave occasion to the
-conversations with Chevalier Ramsay. As it alludes to the
-condemnation of the <i>Maxims</i> by the pope, and states that
-this condemnation was given reluctantly and under threats from
-the king of France, it may be well to explain this matter in a
-few words. It is true that the accusation of Fénélon at Rome was
-made through enmity against his person, and in a manner
-discreditable to the parties concerned, and very displeasing to
-the pope. It is not true, however, that the decision was given in
-accordance with the wishes of the king on account of his
-entreaties or threats. The pope did not wish to have the matter
-brought before him, because he preferred to leave the errors of
-Fénélon's book to be corrected by milder methods than a public
-condemnation, and desired to spare so great and holy a
-prelate&mdash;who had erred only through a mistaken judgment of the
-true sense of certain statements of the most approved mystic
-authors&mdash;the mortification of a public censure and a formal
-retraction. The action of Fénélon's enemies made the matter so
-public and notorious, and brought his erroneous statements into
-such a clear light that it was impossible to avoid an examination
-and judgment without scandal. The judgment was impartial, and was
-necessarily against Fénélon, whose doctrine was clearly
-irreconcilable with the teaching of the church. At the same time,
-a sharp reproof was given to his accusers for the spirit which
-they had shown in pushing matters to extremes, and the personal
-respect and esteem of the pope for Fénélon were clearly
-manifested.
-</p>
-<p>
-The translator has added a very judicious note to the treatise on
-the immortality of the soul, justly censuring certain statements
-of the author on the nature of the connection between soul and
-body. Like many other writers of that time, Fénélon was too much
-influenced by the philosophy of Descartes whose ridiculous theory
-of occasional causes appears in the passages criticised by Mr.
-Silliman. On this point, the language of the Protestant
-translator is much more in accordance with the Catholic doctrine
-that the soul is <i>forma corporis</i> than that of the Catholic
-archbishop.
-</p>
-<p>
-We recommend this most beautiful specimen of reasoning and
-persuasive eloquence most heartily to all readers, especially to
-those who fancy they can find a halting-place somewhere between
-the rejection of all positive revelation and the acceptance, pure
-and simple, of Catholicity.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_574">{574}</a></span>
-The translation is well done, and the mechanical execution of the
-book, which is a medium between a volume and a pamphlet, is
-elegant. If the translator finds sufficient encouragement in the
-reception which it meets with to induce him to continue, we
-recommend to him the translation of Fénélon's admirable treatise
-on the existence and attributes of God, as a work which we should
-welcome as a timely and valuable addition to our English
-religious literature.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  La Natura E La Grazia, (Nature And Grace.)<br>
-  Discourses on Modern Naturalism delivered in Rome during the
-  Lent of 1865.<br>
-  By Father Charles M. Curci, S.J.<br>
-  2 vols. Rome, Turin, and Venice.
-</p>
-<p>
-We are greatly indebted to the courtesy of F. Curci in sending us
-a copy of this admirable collection of discourses. With the
-greatest modesty, the distinguished author apologizes in his
-preface for the defects of his work. To his readers, however, his
-name will be a sufficient guarantee of its excellence and
-ability; nor will a careful examination give them any reason to
-change their opinion. These are no ordinary Lent sermons upon the
-commonplace themes of exhortation which preachers are wont to
-handle during this holy season. They are profound, eloquent, and
-classically written discourses upon all the great Catholic
-doctrines and practices which are disputed or denied by modern
-infidels and rationalists; a specimen of that high, intellectual,
-philosophical, and, at the same time, thoroughly spiritual
-preaching which is so necessary in our day for the educated
-classes. If it were possible, it would be highly desirable and
-beneficial to have these volumes translated into English. If we
-are not able, at present, to have this done, it is only because
-of the very great cost of translating and publishing in this
-country a work of such a high class, the circulation of which
-would be necessarily limited to the clergy and a small portion of
-the most highly educated among the laity.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Italy, Florence, And Venice.<br>
-  From the French of H. Taine.<br>
-  By J. Durand.<br>
-  8vo, pp. 385. New York: Leypoldt & Holt.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is a companion volume to M. Taine's book on <i>Rome and
-Naples</i>, which appeared in an English dress about a year ago.
-The author visited Italy in 1864, (though the date, by a strange
-oversight, is not mentioned in the volume now before us,) and his
-observations upon the political situation of the country and such
-social peculiarities as arose from political causes, have now
-lost much of their value. These observations are fortunately few,
-nor were they ever very profound. M. Taine is not a student of
-public affairs, nor a keen observer of popular characteristics.
-Of Italian life and manners, he learned no more than the mere
-guide-book tourist can see in hotels, galleries, and public
-conveyances, and what he saw he tells no better than many have
-told the same things before him, and not so well as at least one
-or two American travellers whom we could mention. It is as a
-critic of art that he demands our attention, and in this
-particular he far surpasses nine tenths of all the writers on
-such topics with whom English readers are familiar. The eloquence
-and rapidity of his style, the refinement of his esthetic sense,
-and the keenness of his philosophy, invest his pages with an
-interest and a brilliancy which must charm every body. Yet there
-is something lacking in his appreciation of paintings, there is a
-coldness even in the midst of his enthusiasm, which leave the
-mind unsatisfied. The fact is, he writes like a man of the world,
-to whom the inner religious sentiment of art is only half
-revealed. He judges of paintings only with the head; but there
-are certain works&mdash;above all, for instance, those of Fra
-Angelico&mdash;which must be judged by the heart.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Love; Or Self Sacrifice:<br>
-  a Story by Lady Herbert.<br>
-  Published by D. & J. Sadlier & Co.<br>
-  Price, 75 cts.
-</p>
-<p>
-The life of Gwladys, the heroine of Lady Herbert's story, is made
-up of three important events; two marriages and the death of her
-lovely boy; and it required all of Lady Herbert's experience as a
-writer to fill a volume covering the space of eighteen years,
-with the joys and sorrows of her monotonous life.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_575">{575}</a></span>
-The book abounds in exquisite descriptive scenes and truthful
-narratives of the fatigues and incidents of travel; but there is
-a striking resemblance between many of the leading characters,
-and the episodes, in general, are unnatural.
-</p>
-<p>
-These faults can only be accounted for on the supposition that
-the overstrained mind of the heroine did not preserve a perfect
-picture of each individual; their virtues and faults appearing to
-Gwladys in proportion to the amount of kindness they heaped upon
-her. Thus Lady Herbert was unable to paint them as they were in
-reality and contented herself by coloring them to suit the ideas
-of her much-loved friend. The external appearance of the book we
-cannot praise. The proofs must have been read by the "printer's
-devil," with <i>malice prepense</i>, for a more slovenly printed
-book it has never been our misfortune, as a reviewer, to have
-been compelled to read.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Die Alte Und Neue Welt.<br>
-  Vols. I. II. III.<br>
-  New York and Cincinnati: Benziger Bros.
-</p>
-<p>
-We are indebted to the publishers for the three volumes,
-beautifully bound, of this excellent German illustrated magazine.
-We have already noticed the admirable character both of the
-reading matter and of the illustrations of this periodical, which
-is an instructive and at the same time highly entertaining family
-magazine, decidedly the best of its class we have ever met with
-in any language. For those who can read the German language,
-these volumes form as pleasant a companion as one could desire of
-a rainy afternoon, or in any leisure hour when one is desirous of
-some pleasant and innocent mental relaxation. It is also
-profitable as well as pleasant, chiefly on account of the
-charming pictures it presents of Catholic life in ancient and
-modern Germany. To all who read German, we cordially recommend
-the purchase of these volumes, both for the sake of the reading
-matter, and also of the excellent illustrations. As for our
-German fellow-Catholics, they ought to be proud of possessing in
-their own rich and grand mother-tongue a magazine which does them
-so much honor, and ought to give it their universal support. For
-the clergy, for parish libraries, for the family, and for young
-people who have a taste for reading, it is invaluable. We fear
-that the children of our German fellow-citizens are too much
-disposed to forget the glorious fatherland of their parents,
-which is in them a great folly, to be checked and discouraged in
-every way. It is not necessary, in order to become good
-Americans, to disown and forget the country and the literature of
-one's ancestors. If it is worth while for those whose
-mother-tongue is English to spend years in acquiring a knowledge
-of the language and literature of Germany, it is surely a great
-piece of folly for those whose early education has given them the
-means of attaining this knowledge without any trouble to throw it
-away as of no value.
-</p>
-<p>
-We think that the American part of the magazine, that is, all
-that represents the life of the German population in the United
-States, might be much better sustained than it is. We cannot
-blame the editors for this defect, which is no doubt entirely due
-to a lack of contributors living in this country; but it appears
-to us that a more extensive and zealous co-operation of the
-clergy here with the European editors would, without difficulty,
-supply it, and make the <i>Alte und Neue Welt</i> really, as its
-name imports, a magazine of the new as well as of the old world.
-We wish the enterprising firm of the Messrs. Benziger abundant
-success in their laudable and skilful efforts to promote the
-cause of Catholic literature in the German language.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Winifred; Countess Of Nithsdale.<br>
-  By Lady Dacre.<br>
-  New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co.
-</p>
-<p>
-This story has appeared in <i>The Tablet</i>, and has nothing
-remarkable in it to praise or blame, if we except the numerous
-typographical errors, which are the more noticeable on account of
-the dulness of the narrative, and the low order of the curious
-dialogues.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_576">{576}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  Little Women; Or, Meg, Jo, Beth, And Amy.<br>
-  By Louisa M. Alcott.<br>
-  Illustrated by May Alcott.<br>
-  Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is a charming story, full of life, full of fun, full of
-human nature, and therefore full of interest. The little women
-play at being pilgrims when they are children, and resolve to be
-true pilgrims as they grow older. Life to them was earnest; it
-had its duties, and they did not overlook them or despise them.
-Directed by the wise teachings and beautiful example of a good
-mother, they became in the end true and noble women. Make their
-acquaintance; for Amy will be found delightful, Beth very lovely,
-Meg beautiful, and Jo splendid; that there is a real Jo somewhere
-we have not the slightest doubt.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Mental Photographs.<br>
-  An Album for Confessions of Tastes, Habits, and Convictions.<br>
-  Edited by Robert Saxton.<br>
-  New York: Leypoldt & Holt.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have here an ingenious invention for the amusement of the
-social circle, and one which is capable of affording a good deal
-of merriment and interest, provided smart and sensible people
-take part in it. The album contains places for photographs, and
-by the side of each a series of forty questions, such as "What is
-your favorite book? color? name? occupation?" etc., to which
-answers are to be written by the original of the picture. In this
-way, the editor says, as complete a portrait as possible is
-obtained both of the inner and outer man. Most of the questions
-are pertinent and suggestive.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Phenomena And Laws Of Heat.<br>
-  By Achille Cuzin, Professor of
-  Physics in the Lyceum of Versailles.<br>
-  Translated and edited by Elihu Rich.<br>
-  1 vol. 12mo. Illustrated. Pp. 265.<br>
-  New York: Charles Scribner & Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This volume belongs to the <i>Library of Wonders</i>, and its aim
-is to present in a summary the principal phenomena of heat, as
-viewed from the standpoint afforded by recent discoveries in
-physics. The illustrations are excellent, and give the reader a
-complete elucidation of the text.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Fisher-Maiden. A Norwegian Tale.<br>
-  By Björnstjerne Björnson.<br>
-  From the Author's German Edition,<br>
-  by M. E. Niles.<br>
-  New York: Leypold & Holt. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-"An artist, not a photographer, Björnson draws souls more than
-faces." "In these times of blatant novelists, it is no ordinary
-treat to get a story which affects one almost as finely as a
-poem."
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-The Catholic Publication Society will soon publish <i>The History
-of the Catholic Church on the Island of New York</i>. By the Rt.
-Rev. J. R. Bayley, D.D., Bishop of Newark. This work will contain
-many important documents relating to the history of the church in
-this city, not heretofore published.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="center">
-         Books Received.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Charles Scribner & Co., New York:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Waterloo; a Sequel to the Conscript of 1813.<br>
-  Translated from the French of Erckmann-Chatrian.<br>
-  Illustrated. 1 vol. 12mo, pp. 368.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-From P. M. Haverty, New York:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Speeches on the Legislative Independence of Ireland.
-  With introductory notes by Thomas Francis Meagher, and a
-  memorial oration, by Richard O'Gorman.
-  1 vol. 12mo, pp.317.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-From Lee & Shepard, Boston:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Gates Wide Open; or,
-  Scenes in another World.
-  By George Wood. Pp. 354.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_577">{577}</a></span>
-<br>
-           <h1>The Catholic World.</h1>
-      <h3>Vol. IX., No. 53.&mdash;August, 1869.</h3>
-
-<hr>
-<br>
-    <h2>"Our Established Church."</h2>
-<p class="center_close">
-[Footnote 166]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 166: <i>Putnam's Monthly Magazine</i>. Our
-    Established Church. New York. G. P. Putnam & Son. July,
-    1869.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-The title, Our Established Church, given by <i>Putnam</i> to a
-bitterly anti-Catholic article in its number for last July, is
-too malicious for pleasantry and too untrue for wit. The writer
-knows perfectly well that we have in this State of New York no
-established church, and that, of all the so-called churches, the
-Catholic Church is the furthest removed from being the state
-church. In no city, town, or county of the State are Catholics
-the majority of the population; and even in this city, where
-their proportion to the whole population is the largest, they
-probably constitute not much, if any, over one third of the
-whole. Public opinion throughout the State, though less hostile
-than it was a few years ago, is still bitterly anti-Catholic. In
-this city, the numbers and influence of naturalized, as
-distinguished from natural born citizens, is, no doubt, very
-great; but these naturalized citizens are by no means all
-Catholics, and a large number of those who may have been baptized
-Catholics are wholly uninfluenced by their Catholicity in their
-public, and, we fear, to a great extent, even in their private
-life. It is simply ridiculous, even by way of irony, to speak of
-our church as the established church, or as exerting a
-controlling influence in the State or city.
-</p>
-<p>
-Moreover, no church can be the established church, here or
-elsewhere, unless it concedes the supremacy of the state, and
-consents to be its slave. This the Catholic Church can never do.
-The relations of church and state in Catholic countries have for
-many centuries been regulated by concordats; but in this country,
-since the adoption of the Federal constitution, the civil
-authority has recognized its own incompetency in spirituals, and,
-as before it, the equal rights of all religions not <i>contra
-bonos mores</i>, as also its obligation to protect the adherents
-of each in the free and full enjoyment of their entire religious
-liberty. The state guarantees, thus, all the freedom and
-protection the church has ever secured elsewhere by concordats.
-She much prefers freedom to slavery, and her full liberty, though
-shared with hostile sects, to the gilded bondage of a state
-church. She neither is the established church, nor can she
-consent to become so; for a state church means a church governed
-by the laity, and subordinated to secular interests, as we see in
-the case of the Anglican establishment.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_578">{578}</a></span>
-Her steady refusal to become a state establishment is the key to
-those fearful struggles in the middle ages between the church and
-the empire; and the secret of the success of the Protestant
-Reformation is to be found in its ready submission to the secular
-prince, or its practical assertion of the supremacy of the civil
-power and the subordination of the spiritual.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is always great difficulty in discussing such questions as
-the writer in <i>Putnam</i> raises with our Protestant
-fellow-citizens; for we and they start from opposite principles
-and aim at different ends. We, as Catholics, assert the entire
-freedom and independence of the spiritual order; but they,
-consciously or unconsciously, assume that the state is supreme,
-and that the spiritual should be under the surveillance and
-control of the secular. We understand by religious liberty the
-freedom and independence of the church as an organic body; they
-understand by it the freedom of the laity from all authority
-claimed and exercised by the pope and clergy as ministers of God
-or stewards of his kingdom on earth. If each Protestant sect
-claims, in its own case, exemption from secular control, every
-one insists that the Catholic Church shall be subject to Caesar,
-and all unite to deprive her of her spiritual freedom and
-independence. Hence, they and we view things from opposite poles.
-They regard them from the point of view of the Gentiles, with
-whom religion was a civil function, and the state supreme alike
-in spirituals and temporals; we, from the point of view of the
-Gospel, or the New Law, which asserts the divine sovereignty, and
-requires us to obey God rather than men. They would secularize
-the church and education, abolish the priesthood, explain away
-the sacraments, and reduce the worship of God to the exercise of
-preaching, praying, and singing, which can be performed by
-laymen, or even women, as well as by consecrated priests. What
-they call their religion is a perpetual protest against what we
-call religion, or the Christian religion as we understand, hold,
-and practise it. It is especially a protest against the
-priesthood, priestly functions and authority.
-</p>
-<p>
-Hence the difficulty of a mutual understanding between them and
-us. What they want is not what we want. We are willing to let
-them have their own way for themselves, but they are not willing
-that we should have our own way for ourselves; and they try all
-manner of means in their power to force us to follow their way
-and to fashion ourselves after their model. They do not concede
-that we have, and are not willing that we should have, equal
-rights with themselves in the state. If the state treats us as
-citizens standing on a footing of equality with them, they are
-indignant, and allege that it treats us as a privileged class,
-and to their great wrong. If it does not subordinate us to them,
-they pretend that it makes ours the established church, and
-places them in the attitude of dissenters from the state
-religion. They are not satisfied with equality; they can see no
-equality where they are not the masters. They cannot endure that
-Mordecai should be allowed to sit in the king's gate. This is the
-real sense of <i>Putnam's</i> article, and the meaning of the
-clamor of the sectarian and a large portion of the secular press,
-against the State and city of New York, for their alleged
-liberality to the church.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_579">{579}</a></span>
-<p>
-The complaint in <i>Putnam</i> is, that the State and city of New
-York have granted aid to certain Catholic charitable
-institutions, such as hospitals, orphan asylums, reformatories or
-protectorates for Catholic boys, etc., out of all proportion to
-its grants of aid to similar Protestant institutions. Also, that
-the Legislature has authorized the city to appropriate a certain
-percentage of the fees received for liquor licenses to the
-support of private schools for the poor, some portion, even the
-larger portion, of which, it is assumed, will go to the support
-of Catholic parochial schools, and therefore, it is pretended, to
-the support of <i>sectarian</i> schools; for in the Protestant
-mind whatever is Catholic is sectarian. But is it true that the
-State or the city does proportionably less for non-Catholic
-charitable or educational institutions&mdash;not a few of which are
-well known to be formed for the very purpose of picking up, we
-might say kidnapping, Catholic poor children, and bringing them
-up in some form of Protestantism or infidelity&mdash;than it does for
-Catholic charitable institutions? Most certainly not. It does far
-less for Catholic than for non-Catholic institutions; and yet,
-because it does a little for institutions, though for the benefit
-of the whole community, under the control and management of
-Catholics, the State and city are calumniated, and we are
-insulted by its being pretended that our church is made the state
-church.
-</p>
-<p>
-In this matter of State grants or city donations, the Protestant
-mind proceeds upon a sad fallacy. The divisions of Protestants
-among themselves count for nothing in a question between them and
-Catholics. Protestants overlook this fact, and while they call
-all grants and donations to Catholic institutions sectarian, they
-call none sectarian of all that made to Protestant institutions
-which are not under the control and management of some particular
-denomination of Protestants, as the Episcopalian, the
-Presbyterian, the Baptist, or the Methodist; but this is a grave
-error, and cannot fail to mislead the public. All grants and
-donations made to institutions, charitable or educational, not
-under the control and management of Catholics are made to
-non-Catholics; and, with the exception of those made to the
-Hebrews, to Protestant institutions. There are but two religions
-to be counted, Catholic and Protestant. The true rule is to count
-on one side whatever is given to institutions under Catholic
-control and management, and on the other side all that is given
-for similar purposes to all the institutions, whether public or
-private, not under Catholic control and management. The question,
-then, comes up, Have the State and city given proportionately
-greater amounts to Catholic charitable and other institutions
-than to Protestant institutions? If not, we have no more than our
-share, and the Protestant clamor is unjust and indefensible.
-</p>
-<p>
-Of the policy of granting subsidies by State or city, to
-eleemosynary institutions, whether Catholic or Protestant we say
-nothing; for being, even now, at most not more than one fifth of
-the whole population of the State, we are in no sense answerable,
-as Catholics, for any policy the State may see proper to adopt.
-But, if it adopts the policy of granting subsidies, we demand for
-our institutions our proportion of the subsidies granted. Have we
-received more than our proportion? Nay, have we received anything
-like our proportion? We find from the official report made to the
-State Convention, that the total of grants made by the State to
-charitable and other institutions&mdash;including the New York
-Institution of the Deaf and Dumb, the New York Institution for
-the Blind, the Society for the Reformation of Juvenile
-Delinquents of New York, State Agricultural College, State Normal
-School, the Western House of Refuge for Juvenile Delinquents,
-State Lunatic Asylum, the Asylum for Idiots, the Willard Asylum
-for the Insane, academies, orphan asylums, etc., hospitals, etc.,
-colleges, universities, etc., and miscellaneous&mdash;-have amounted,
-for twenty-one years, ending with 1867, to $6,920,881.91.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_580">{580}</a></span>
-Of this large amount, Catholics should have received for their
-institutions certainly not less than one million of dollars. Yet,
-all that we have been able to find that they have received out of
-this large sum is a little less than $276,000; that is, not over
-one fourth of what they were entitled to; yet <i>Putnam's
-Magazine</i> has the effrontery to pretend that our church is
-favored at the expense of Protestantism.
-</p>
-<p>
-So much for the State subsidies. In passing to the city, we find
-its donations to charitable institutions, from 1847 to 1867
-inclusive, amount to $1,837,593.27; of which, Catholic
-institutions, including $45,000 for parochial schools, have
-received, as nearly as we can ascertain from the returns, a
-little over three hundred thousand dollars. All the rest has gone
-to non-Catholic, and a large part to bitterly anti-Catholic
-associations and institutions. Of the aggregate grants and
-donations of the State and city of $8,754,759.18, Catholic
-institutions, as far as we have been able to discover from the
-official tables before us, received, prior to 1868, less than
-$600,000, not, by any means, a fourth of our proportion. Yet we
-are treated as the established church!
-</p>
-<p>
-But we have not yet stated the whole case. We do not know how
-many millions are appropriated annually for the support of public
-schools throughout the State; but in this city the tax levy, this
-year, for the public schools, is, we are told, $3,000,000 or
-over. Catholics pay their proportion of this amount, and they are
-a third of the population of the city. The sum appropriated to
-the aid of private schools, we are told, is estimated at
-$200,000; and if every cent of it is applied in aid of our
-schools, as it will not be, it is far less than the tax we pay
-for schools which we cannot use. The public schools are
-anti-Catholic in their tendency, and none the less sectarian
-because established and managed by the public authority of the
-State. The State is practically Protestant, and all its
-institutions are managed almost exclusively by Protestants. St.
-John's College, Fordham, or St. Francis Xavier's, in this city,
-is not more exclusively Catholic than Columbia or Union is
-exclusively Protestant. These latter are open to Catholics, but
-not more than the former are to Protestants. We count in the
-grants and donations to Protestant institutions the whole amount
-raised by public tax, together with that appropriated from the
-school fund of the State for the support of the public schools.
-Thus we claim that Catholic charities and schools do not receive,
-in grants and donations, a tithe of what is honestly or justly
-their share&mdash;whether estimated according to their numbers or
-according to the amount of public taxes, for sectarian charitable
-and educational purposes levied on them by the State and its
-municipalities. How false and absurd, then, to pretend that this
-State specially favors our religion, and treats us as a
-privileged class! The writer in <i>Putnam</i> is obliged to draw
-largely on his sectarian imagination for facts to render his
-statements at all plausible. His pretended facts are in most
-cases no facts at all. We wish his estimate of the value of the
-real estate owned by the church were true; but he exaggerates
-hugely the amount, and then says it is held, for the most part,
-in fee-simple, by one or another of five ecclesiastics, which
-shows how ill-informed he is.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_581">{581}</a></span>
-We subjoin the brief but spirited contradiction, by the bishop of
-Rochester, of several of his misstatements.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "<i>To the Editor of the Rochester Democrat:</i>
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "In your paper, of June 16, appears an article with the
-  caption,  Our Established Church.' The article is based on one
-  with the same title in <i>Putnam's Magazine</i> for July. I do
-  not wish to review the article in <i>Putnam</i>, but claim the
-  privilege of correcting some of its misstatements.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-   "I am one of the 'five ecclesiastics' in the State of New York
-   holding property worth millions. Yet, strange to say, there is
-   not to my knowledge one foot of land in the wide world in my
-   name. All the church societies in the diocese of Rochester not
-   organized as corporate bodies under the laws of the State of
-   New York, previous to my appointment as Bishop of Rochester,
-   have organized or are completing their organization under
-   those laws. So soon as these societies comply with the law of
-   the State, Bishop Loughlin, of Brooklyn, will transfer to
-   them, by quit-claim deeds, whatever property of theirs he
-   inherited from the late Bishop Timon. Had I had ever so little
-   desire to hold property in my name, I might have held in
-   fee-simple the lots on which I am building the bishop's house;
-   but I have placed the title in the name of 'St. Patrick's
-   Church Society.'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The other 'ecclesiastics' in the State of New York, who have
-  not already transferred the property which they held in
-  fee-simple, are engaged in making such transfer of the 'fifty
-  millions' said to be held by them.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The chief trouble, it seems to me, is in the fact that the
-  Catholic Church is allowed to hold property in any shape or
-  form. But the Catholic Church does hold property, and she will
-  continue to hold it to the end of the chapter, and 'What do you
-  propose to do about it?'
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "'The (Catholic) Nursery and Hospital on Fifty-first street and
-  Lexington avenue,' is a Protestant institution.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The new St. Patrick's Cathedral stands on ground purchased by
-  Catholics about sixty years ago, and ever since in their
-  possession. This fact spoils Parton's compliment to the
-  Archbishop Hughes's foresight, and a nice bit of irony in
-  <i>Putnam's Magazine</i>.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The Catholics in New York City, in 1817, opened an orphan
-  asylum, which they maintained, without assistance from the city
-  or State, until some time after the year 1840, when they
-  received on a perpetual lease the block of ground between
-  Fourth and Fifth avenues and Fifty-first and Fifty-second
-  streets, at that time of very little value. On these lots they
-  have erected two vast and magnificent buildings, in which they
-  support over a thousand children, at an annual cost to them,
-  and not to the city or State, of from $70,000 to $90,000.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "I make these corrections to show that the writer of the
-  article in <i>Putnam</i> is far astray in his facts. There are
-  many other objectionable statements in the article, but a
-  magazine contribution without a little spice in it would be
-  tame and unreadable. Thus, the allusion to the church trouble
-  in Auburn, and the pretty play on the name of the church, would
-  lose their point if the history of that affair were properly
-  understood.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Catholics do not claim to have rights above any one else, but
-  they know they have equal rights with others. They have no
-  notion of their church ever becoming the 'Established Church,'
-  and they are just as certain that no other church shall ever
-  assume to be the 'Established Church' in the United States.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-      B. J. McQuaid,<br>
-      "Bishop of Rochester."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-This is conclusive as far as it goes. We do not know the money
-value of our churches, the sites and buildings of our schools,
-colleges, orphan asylums, hospitals, religious houses, and
-academies; but it is possible that in the five dioceses into
-which the State is ecclesiastically divided it may be half as
-much as the value of the real estate owned by Trinity Church in
-this city; but be it more or be it less, the property of the
-church has been bought and paid for, so far as paid for at all,
-with very slight exceptions, by the voluntary offerings of the
-faithful, and none of it has been obtained by the despoiling of
-Protestant owners. Very little of it is due to public grants, and
-the few lots leased us by the city at a nominal rent for a term
-of years, though of great value now, were of little value when
-leased.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_582">{582}</a></span>
-Nor have these lots in any case been leased for sites of
-churches, but in all cases for purposes in which the city itself
-is no less deeply interested than the Catholics themselves. The
-grants to the reformatory for Catholic boys, though apparently
-large, are measures of economy on the part of the city; for we
-can manage reformatories and take care of our juvenile
-delinquents far more economically than the city or Protestant
-institutions can. The industrial school of the Sisters of Charity
-is a public benefit, and the city and the State would save money
-were all their hospitals and asylums placed under the charge of
-these good sisters, or of the kindred congregation of the Sisters
-of Mercy. Our hospitals, again, are as open to Protestants as to
-Catholics. It is never a Catholic practice to inquire what is a
-man's religion before rendering him assistance. Whoever needs our
-help, whatever his religion, is our neighbor.
-</p>
-<p>
-The city has made donations, as far as we are aware, only to such
-Catholic institutions as are established for really public
-objects, and which in their operations save the city from what
-would otherwise be either a public nuisance or a public charge.
-Take the case of Catholic orphan asylums. The orphans they
-receive and provide for would otherwise be a charge on the city
-treasury. Take the institute of the Sisters of the Good Shepherd.
-It has for its object a noble charity, that of rescuing and
-reforming fallen women. These victims of vice and propagators of
-corruption, received and cared for by the Sisters of the Good
-Shepherd, and generally restored to health, virtue, and
-usefulness, would, if not taken up by them, fall into the hands
-of the correctional police, and the city would have the expense
-of arresting, punishing, and providing for them in the house of
-correction, the penitentiary, or its hospitals. Catholic charity
-not only accomplishes a good object, confers a public benefit,
-but saves a heavy expense to the Commissioners of Public
-Charities and Correction. It is only such Catholic institutions
-as tend directly to promote a public good, and to lighten the
-public expense, that the city aids with its grants and donations.
-It aids in the same way, and to a far greater extent, similar
-Protestant institutions, such as the House of the Friendless, the
-House of Mercy, the Society for the Protection of Juvenile
-Delinquents, the Christian's Aid Society, the Magdalen Society,
-the Nursery and Children's Hospital, etc., for the most part,
-institutions founded with an anti-Catholic intent.
-</p>
-<p>
-The <i>Magazine</i> asserts, the "State paid out, in 1866, for
-benefactions under religious control, $129,025.49, &hellip; of which
-the trifling sum of $124,174.14 went to the religious purposes"
-of the Catholic Church. We have not been able to find a particle
-of proof of this, and the mode of reckoning adopted by
-<i>Putnam</i> is so false, and its general inaccuracy is so
-great, that, in the absence of specific proof, we must presume it
-to be untrue, and made only for a sensational effect. The writer
-in <i>Putnam</i> seems to count as Catholic such institutions and
-associations as the Ladies' Mission Society, The New York
-Magdalen Benevolent Society, Ladies' Union Aid Society, Nursery
-and Children's Hospital, Ladies' Home Missionary Society, Five
-Points Gospel Union Mission, Five Points House of Industry, Young
-Men's Christian Association, and we know not how many more, all
-Protestant, and not a few of them designed, under pretext of
-charity, and by really rendering some physical relief to the poor
-and destitute, to detach the Catholic needy, and especially
-Catholic children, from the church, and yet all of them are
-beneficiaries of the State or city.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_583">{583}</a></span>
-No institution supported, even for proselyting purposes, by a
-union of two or more evangelical sects, is reckoned by
-<i>Putnam</i> as Protestant or sectarian. We hold them to be
-thoroughly Protestant, and rabidly sectarian.
-</p>
-<p>
-The sensational writer in <i>Putnam</i> complains of the city for
-leasing to Catholics valuable real estate, at a nominal rent, for
-a long term of years. Only one such lease, that for the House of
-Industry for the Sisters of Charity, has been made in this city
-since 1847. The site of St. Patrick's Cathedral, which he
-pretends is leased by the city, at a rent of one dollar a year,
-has been owned by Catholics for over sixty years, and was bought
-and paid for by them with their own money, as the venerable
-Bishop of Rochester asserts. The only other instance named, that
-of the Nursery and Children's Hospital, Fifty-first street and
-Lexington avenue, is a Protestant, not a Catholic institution.
-The writer should not take grants and donations made to
-Protestants as grants and donations made to Catholics. Between
-Catholics and Protestants there is a difference!
-</p>
-<p>
-The writer's statement of the huge endowments the church will
-have, at the rate the city and State are endowing her, in 1918,
-we must leave to the consideration of the future <i>Putnams</i>.
-Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. We will only say that
-the church has had, thus far, in this country, no endowment, and
-has no source of revenue but the unfailing charity of the
-faithful. The magnificent revenues of our churches, colleges,
-hospitals, asylums, etc., so dazzling to the writer in
-<i>Putnam</i>, are all in his eye. We have not a single endowed
-church, convent, college, school, hospital, or asylum in the
-Union! We do great things with small means, and what to
-Protestants would seem to be no means at all, because He who is
-great is with us, and because we rely on charity, and charity
-never faileth.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have sufficiently disposed of the property question, and
-vindicated the State and city from the charge of undue favoritism
-to our church. No charge can be more untrue or more unjust. A few
-words on the common school question, and we dismiss the article
-in <i>Putnam</i>, which has already detained us too long.
-</p>
-<p>
-The writer in <i>Putnam</i> attempts to be so ironical and so
-witty, and so readily sacrifices sobriety and truth to point,
-that he must excuse us from following him step by step in his
-account of our relation to the common schools. We know well the
-common school system of this and other States. We&mdash;we speak
-personally&mdash;received our early education in the public schools,
-were for five years a common school teacher, and for fifteen
-years had charge of the schools in the place of our residence, as
-school committee-man. We have not one word to say against them as
-schools for the children of those who are willing to secularize
-education. We make no war on the system for non-Catholics. If
-they wish the system for themselves, we offer them no opposition.
-Indeed, for those who hold the supremacy of the secular order,
-and believe that every department of life should be secularized,
-no better system can be devised. We oppose it not when intended
-for them, but only when intended for us and we are taxed to
-support it. We hold the spiritual order superior to the secular,
-and wish our children to be educated accordingly.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_584">{584}</a></span>
-<p>
-We hold that education, or the instruction and training of
-children and youth, is a function of the church, a function which
-she cannot discharge except in schools exclusively under her
-management and control. This education and training can be
-successfully given only in the Catholic family and the Catholic
-school. In this country, for reasons we need not stop to
-enumerate, the Catholic school is especially necessary. We do
-not, by any means, oppose what is called secular learning, and in
-no country where they have not been prevented by a hostile or
-anti-Catholic government, have Catholics failed to take the lead
-in all branches of secular learning and science. All the great
-literary masterpieces of the world, since the downfall of Pagan
-Rome, are the productions either of Catholics or of men who have
-received a Catholic training. Few as we are, and great as are the
-disadvantages under which we labor in this country, Catholics
-even here compare more than favorably, at this moment, in secular
-learning and science, with non-Catholics. The religious training
-they receive from the church, the great catholic principles which
-she teaches them in the catechism and in all her services, tend
-to quicken and purify the mind, and to fit it to excel even in
-secular science and learning. The Catholic has the truth to start
-from, and why should he not surpass all others? No! we do not
-oppose, we favor secular learning and science; but we oppose
-separating secular training from religious training, and can
-never consent to the secularization of education. Here is where
-we and the present race of Protestants differ. It is because the
-common schools secularize, and are intended by their chief
-supporters to secularize, education and to make all life secular,
-that we oppose them, and refuse to send our children to them
-where we can possibly avoid it. Even if religious education is
-given elsewhere, in the family or in the Sunday-school, the evil
-is only partially neutralized. The separation of the secular from
-the religious tends to create a fearful dualism in both
-individual and social life, to place the spiritual and the
-secular in the relation of antagonism, each to the other, which
-renders impracticable that concord between the two orders so
-necessary to the harmonious development of the individual life
-and the promotion of the well-being and progress of society. We
-insist, therefore, on having our children and youth trained in
-schools under charge of the church, that in them the spiritual
-and the secular may be harmonized as necessary parts of one
-dialectic whole.
-</p>
-<p>
-Such are our views and wishes, and such our conscientious
-conviction of duty. Whether we are right or wrong, is no question
-for the state or civil authority to settle. The state has no
-competency in the matter. It is bound to respect and protect
-every citizen in the free and full enjoyment of the freedom of
-his conscience. We stand before the state on a footing of perfect
-equality with non-Catholics, and have the same right to have our
-Catholic conscience respected and protected, that they have to
-have their non-Catholic and secularized conscience respected and
-protected. We do not ask the state to impose our conscience on
-them, or to compel them to adopt and follow our views of
-education; but we deny its right to impose theirs on us, or even
-to carry out their views of education in any degree at our
-expense. The Catholic conscience binds the state itself so far,
-but only so far, as Catholics are concerned. Non-Catholics are
-the great majority of the population, at least five to our one,
-throughout the State, and they have the power, if they choose to
-exercise it, to control the State and to deny us our equal
-rights; but that does not alter the fact that we have equal
-rights, and that the State is bound to respect and cause them to
-be respected.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_585">{585}</a></span>
-The State no doubt is equally bound to respect and protect the
-equal rights of non-Catholics, but no more than it is bound to
-respect and protect ours.
-</p>
-<p>
-On this question of education, we and non-Catholics no doubt
-stand at opposite poles. We cannot accept their views, and they
-will not accept ours. Between them and us there is no common
-ground on which we and they can meet and act in concert. They
-feel it as keenly as we do. Now as the State owes equally respect
-and protection to both parties, and has no right to attempt to
-force either to conform to the views of the other, its only just
-and honest course is to abandon the policy of trying to bring
-both together in a system of common schools. Catholic and
-non-Catholic education cannot be carried on in common. In purely
-secular matters, Catholics and Protestants can act in common, as
-one people, one community; but in any question that involves the
-spiritual relations and duties of men, we and they are two
-communities, and cannot act in concert; and as both are equal
-before the State, it can compel neither to give way to the other.
-This may or may not be a disadvantage; but it is a fact, and must
-by all parties be accepted as such.
-</p>
-<p>
-The solution of the problem would present no difficulty, were the
-non-Catholics as willing to recognize our rights as we are to
-recognize theirs. They support secular schools, and wish to
-compel us to send our children to them, because they hope thus to
-secularize the minds of our children&mdash;<i>enlighten</i> them, they
-say; darken them, we say&mdash;and detach them from the church, or, at
-least, so emasculate their Catholicity that it will differ only
-in name from Protestantism. They regard common schools, in which
-secular learning is diverted from religious instruction and
-training, as a most cunningly devised engine for the destruction
-of the church; and therefore they insist on it with all the
-energy of their souls, and the strength of their hatred of
-Catholicity. It gives them the forming of the character of the
-children of Catholics, and thus in an indirect way makes the
-State an accomplice in their proselyting schemes. Here arises all
-the difficulty in the case. But, whether they are right or wrong
-in their calculations, the State has no more right to aid them
-against us, than it has to aid us against them. If it will, as it
-is bound to do, respect and protect the rights of conscience, or
-real religious liberty, the only solid basis of civil liberty, it
-must do as the continental governments of Europe do, and divide
-the public schools into two classes; the one for Catholics, and
-the other for non-Catholics; that is, adopt the system of
-denominational schools, or, rather, as we would say, Catholic
-schools&mdash;under the management and control of the church&mdash;for
-Catholics, and secular schools&mdash;under its own management and
-control,&mdash;for the rest of the community. Let the system stand as
-it is for non-Catholics, by whatever name they may be called, and
-let the State appropriate to Catholics, for the support of
-schools approved by their church, their proportion of the school
-fund, and of the money raised by public tax for the support of
-public schools, simply reserving to itself the right, through the
-courts, to see that the sums received are honestly applied to the
-purposes for which they are appropriated.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_586">{586}</a></span>
-The State may, if it insists, fix the minimum of secular
-instruction to be given, and withhold all or a portion of the
-public moneys from all Catholic schools that do not come up to
-it.
-</p>
-<p>
-This, if the State, for public reasons, insists on universal
-education, is the best way of solving the difficulty, without
-violence to the equal rights of either Catholics or
-non-Catholics. The State would thus respect all consciences, and
-at the same time secure the education of all the children of the
-land, which is, no doubt, a public desideratum. Another way would
-be, to exempt Catholics from the tax levied for the support of
-the public schools, and give to the schools they maintain their
-proportion of the school fund held in trust by the State, and
-leave Catholics to establish and manage schools for their own
-children in their own way, under the supervision and control of
-the church. Either way of solving the difficulty would answer our
-purpose, and we venture to say that one or the other method of
-dealing with the public school question will ere long have to be
-adopted, whatever the opposition excited.
-</p>
-<p>
-The American sense of justice already begins to revolt at the
-manifest wrong of taxing us to support schools from which our
-conscience will not permit us to derive any benefit. At present,
-we pay our quota to the support of the public schools, which we
-cannot with a good conscience use, and are obliged to support our
-own schools in addition. This is grossly unjust, and in direct
-violation of the equal rights guaranteed us by the constitution,
-and the religious liberty which is the loud boast of the country.
-The subsidies granted to some of our parochial schools in this
-city are an attempt, and an honorable attempt, to mitigate the
-injustice which is done us by the common school system. But the
-sums appropriated, as considerable as they may seem, are far
-below the sums collected from us, for the support of the public
-schools. The principle on which the common school system is
-founded is, that the wealth of the State should educate the
-children of the State. One third, at least, of the children of
-this city, are the children of Catholic parents, and belong to
-the Catholic Church. The sum appropriated for the public schools
-in this city, the present year, is, if we are correctly informed,
-something over three millions of dollars, and Catholics are
-entitled to one third of it, or to one million of dollars. They
-do not receive for their schools even a third of one
-million&mdash;even according to the most exaggerated statements of
-<i>Putnam's Magazine</i> and the sectarian press&mdash;and nothing
-like the amount of the public school tax which they are compelled
-to pay; yet it is pretended that ours is the established church,
-and that Catholics are specially favored by the State and city!
-We ask no favors, but we demand justice, and that our equal
-rights with non-Catholic citizens be respected, and protected.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are other points, in <i>Putnam</i>, that we should like to
-notice&mdash;points which are intended, and not unfitted, to tell on
-the minds of ignorant anti-Catholic bigots and fanatics; but our
-space, as well as our patience, is exhausted. The writer is
-worthy of no confidence in any of his statements. He proves
-effectually that it is untrue that figures cannot lie; for under
-his manipulation they not only lie, but lie hugely. Even the
-anti-Catholic <i>Nation</i> has rebuked him for his levity, and
-he has even disgusted all fair-minded and moderate Protestants.
-He has quite overshot his mark. But be that as it may, we have
-confidence in the justice and right sense of the great body of
-our countrymen and fellow-citizens, and we do not believe,
-however much they dislike the church, that they will persevere in
-a course manifestly unjust to Catholics, and repugnant to the
-first principles of American liberty, after becoming once aware
-of its bad character.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_587">{587}</a></span>
-<p>
-As to the subsidies granted by the Legislature to Catholic
-charitable and educational institutions, they have been far less
-than are due&mdash;as the Hon. John E. Devlin justly remarked in the
-Convention, not ten per cent of the amount granted. And it has
-been no crime on our part to accept what has been offered us; for
-we have received and accepted them only for purposes of public
-utility and common humanity. Nor are we responsible for the
-action of the State Legislature; for it is composed chiefly of
-non-Catholics, and by a large majority elected by non-Catholics.
-Catholics are by no means the majority of electors in the State.
-We institute no inquiry into the motives that have influenced the
-members of the Legislature; we never assign bad or sinister
-motives, when good and proper motives are at hand. We presume the
-motive has been a sense of justice toward a large and growing
-class of the community, whose rights have for a long time been
-trampled on or disregarded. To condemn them, is not at all
-creditable to the rabid Protestant press, and, in our judgment,
-is very bad policy. However it may be with the Protestant
-leaders, the majority of the American people are sincerely and
-earnestly attached to the American doctrine of equal rights, and
-will no more consent to its manifest violation in the case of
-Catholics than of non-Catholics.
-</p>
-<hr>
-
-             <h2>Mark IV.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">
-  "Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?"
-</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-           As if the storm meant Him;
-           Or'cause Heaven's face is dim,
-               His needs a cloud.
-           Was ever froward wind
-           That could be so unkind,
-               Or wave so proud?
-  The wind had need be angry, and the water black,
-  That to the mighty Neptune's self dare threaten wrack.
-
-           There is no storm but this
-           Of your own cowardice
-               That braves you out:
-           You are the storm that mocks
-           Yourselves; you are the rocks
-               Of your own doubt.
-  Besides this fear of danger there's no danger here,
-  And he that here fears danger does deserve his fear.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p class="right">
-		             Crashaw.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_588">{588}</a></span>
-
-            <h2>Daybreak.</h2>
-
-          <h3>Chapter XII.
-<br><br>
-         So As By Fire.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-When spring came again, the letters from Mr. Granger were less
-frequent, and as weather and work grew warmer, the family had to
-content themselves with a few lines at irregular and sometimes
-long intervals.
-</p>
-<p>
-They were not to be anxious, he wrote, even if they should not
-hear from him for several weeks. As the newspapers and the
-speech-makers had it, we were making history every day, and he
-must write his little paragraph with the rest. It took both hands
-to wield the pen, and he must have a care to make no blots. Which
-was a roundabout way of saying that his military duties required
-all his time. They must remember that "no news is good news," and
-try to possess their souls in patience.
-</p>
-<p>
-On his next furlough he would
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Shoulder his crutch,
-   and tell how fields were won,"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-or lost; but till then a hasty scrawl must suffice. He thought of
-them whenever he lay down to rest; and sometimes, when he was in
-the midst of the hurry and noise of battle, he would catch a
-flitting vision of the peaceful fireside where friends sat and
-thought of him. That home was to him like the headland beacon to
-the mariner far away on the rough horizon, and threw its point of
-tender light on every dark event that surged about him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I shall be there before long. Meantime, good-by, and don't
-worry."
-</p>
-<p>
-From Mr. Southard they had heard less frequently, and less at
-length. His monthly letters to his congregation were usually
-accompanied by a few lines addressed to Mr. or Mrs. Lewis,
-telling them in rather formal fashion where he was, and as little
-as possible of what he was doing. At present, the regiment of
-which he was chaplain still had their quarters at New Orleans.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am afraid he thinks that we don't care much to hear from him,"
-Margaret said, the three ladies sitting together, and talking the
-matter over. "Suppose we all write just as freely as we do to Mr.
-Granger? We can tell him all the little household events, and how
-his chair and his place at the table are still called his, and
-kept for him. I think he would be pleased, don't you, Aura?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do. It isn't a wonder that he writes formally to us when he
-gets such ceremonious answers."
-</p>
-<p>
-"To complain of cold replies to cold letters is like the wolf
-accusing the lamb of muddying the brook," retorted Mrs. Lewis. "I
-shall waste none of my sweetness on the desert air, and you will
-be a pair of simpletons if you do. We might expend ourselves in
-those gushing epistles to him, and after a month or two we should
-probably get about three lines apiece in return, each line cooler
-than the last, and not an intimation that he wasn't bored."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But I think he would be pleased," repeated Margaret doubtfully,
-beginning to waver.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What right or reason have you to think so when he never says
-that he is?" Mrs. Lewis persisted. "For my part, I think that
-friendship is worthy of acknowledgment from king or kaiser&mdash;that
-is, if he wants it; and if Mr. Southard isn't an iceberg, then he
-is a very selfish and arrogant man, that's all.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_589">{589}</a></span>
-You may do as you like. But I shall never again try to get a
-sunbeam out of that cucumber. I have spoken."
-</p>
-<p>
-The entrance of Mr. Lewis put an end to their discussion. He came
-in with a very cross face.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Here I've got to start for Baltimore, with the thermometer at
-eighty degrees, and the Confederates swarming up the Shenandoah
-by tens of thousands, and ready to pounce on anybody south of New
-York!' Why have I got to go?' Why, my agent is on the point of
-absconding with the rents, and the insurance policies on my
-houses are out, and I can't renew them in Boston or New York for
-love or money; and if things are not seen to there, we shall be
-beggars. You needn't laugh, madam! It's no joke. I've just seen a
-man straight from Baltimore, and he says that rascal is all but
-ready to start on a European tour with my money in his pocket. I
-shall get a sunstroke, or have an apoplexy; I know I shall."
-</p>
-<p>
-"A cabbage-leaf in your hat might prevent the sunstroke," his
-wife said serenely. "As to the apoplexy, I am not so safe about
-that, if you keep on at this rate. When do you start?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"To-night; and now it is two o'clock. The rails may be ripped up
-at any hour. You see now, Mrs. Lewis, the disadvantage of living
-in one town and having your property in another. You would come
-to Boston. Nothing else would suit you. And the consequence is,
-that I've got to go posting down to Baltimore in July, to collect
-my rents."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis laughed merrily.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'The woman whom thou gavest me'&mdash;that's the way, from Adam
-down. Who would think, girls, that this is the very first
-intimation I ever had that Mr. Lewis would rather live in
-Baltimore than Boston! But, bless me! I must see to his valise,
-and have an early dinner. As for the raid panic, I will risk you.
-I don't believe there's much the matter."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret had been looking steadily at Mr. Lewis ever since he
-began speaking. She said not a word while the others exclaimed
-and questioned, and finally went out to prepare for his journey;
-but some sharp work was going on in her mind, an electric
-crystallization of vague and floating impressions, impulses, and
-thoughts into resolve.
-</p>
-<p>
-It had been weeks since they heard from Mr. Granger. She had not
-been very much troubled about it&mdash;had, indeed, wondered that she
-felt so little anxiety; but her quietude was by no means
-indifference or security. She could not have defined her own
-feelings. For the last week she had not uttered his name, had
-shrunk with an unaccountable reluctance from doing so, and, worse
-yet, had found it impossible to pray for him.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her other prayers she said as usual; but when she would have
-prayed for his safe return, the words died upon her lips. She was
-neither excited nor distressed; she was, perhaps, more calm than
-usual. Her hands were folded, her face upraised, she had placed
-herself in the presence of God; but if a hand had been laid upon
-her lips she could not have been more mute. A physical weakness
-seemed to deprive her of the power of speech. This was not once,
-but again, and yet again.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret had the most absolute faith in the power of prayer. She
-believed that we may sometimes obtain what we had better not
-have, God giving for his word's sake to those who will not be
-denied, but chastening the petitioner for his lack of submission
-by means of the very gift he grants
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_590">{590}</a></span>
-She had said to herself, "If a sword were raised to strike one I
-love, it could not fall while I prayed. He has promised, and I
-believe."
-</p>
-<p>
-But now, if the sword hung there indeed, she could utter no word
-to stay its falling. She felt herself forbidden, bound by a
-restraint she could not throw off. "Well, Margaret," Mr. Lewis
-said at length, "what are you thinking of? You look as if your
-brain were a galvanic battery in full operation, sending messages
-in every direction at once. The sparks have been coming out of
-your eyes for the last five minutes."
-</p>
-<p>
-The crystallizing process was over, and her resolution lay there
-in her mind as bright and hard as though it were the work of
-years.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I'm going to Washington," she said. "I have been thinking of it
-this week. I will go with you tonight, if you please."
-</p>
-<p>
-Of course there were wonderments, and questions, and objections.
-According to all the canons of propriety, it was highly improper
-for a lady to go South under the existing state of things, unless
-there were bitter need. It was warm, and it was hard travelling
-night and day, as he would have to do. He would like to have her
-company, of course, but he didn't see&mdash;
-</p>
-<p>
-"No matter about your seeing," interrupted Miss Hamilton, rising.
-"If you won't have me with you, I'll go alone. Please don't say
-any more. Cannot you understand, Mr. Lewis, that there are times
-when trivial objections and opposition may be very irritating? We
-will not discuss canons of propriety just now. I have something
-of more consequence to attend to."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, don't be cross," he said good-naturedly. "I won't say
-another word. If you can stand the journey, I shall be glad to
-have you go. But you will have to be quicker in getting your
-traps ready than my wife and Aurelia ever are."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I can be ready in fifteen minutes to go anywhere," was the
-reply. "Now I will go tell Mrs. Lewis."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis saw at a glance that opposition was useless. Moreover,
-she was one of those persons who can allow for exceptional cases,
-and distinguish between rashness and inspiration.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know it seems odd," Margaret said to her; "but I must go. I
-feel impelled. I would go if I had to walk. You will be good, and
-take my part, won't you? Don't tell anybody where I have
-gone&mdash;nobody has any right to know&mdash;and take care of my little
-Dora. I'm going up to the State House now, but will be back by
-the time dinner is ready."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I wouldn't venture to stop her if I could," Mrs. Lewis said.
-"Margaret is not given to flying off on tangents, and this start
-may mean something. She has perception at every pore of her."
-</p>
-<p>
-In the messenger's room at the State House a score of persons
-were in waiting.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I would like to see the governor a few minutes," Margaret said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You will have to wait your turn, ma'am," answered a very
-authoritative individual. "The gov'ner's tremendously
-busy&mdash;overwhelmed with work&mdash;hasn't had time to get his dinner
-yet. Just sit down and wait, and I will let him know as soon as
-there is a chance. If you tell me your business, I might mention
-it to him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank you! Which is his room?"
-</p>
-<p>
-He pointed to a door. "But you can't go in now. I'll tell him
-presently, if you give me your name."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_591">{591}</a></span>
-<p>
-With the most sublime disregard for formalities, Miss Hamilton
-walked straight toward the door indicated.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But I tell you you can't go in there," said the messenger
-angrily, attempting to stop her.
-</p>
-<p>
-For answer, she opened the door, and walked into the room where
-the governor sat at a table, with a secretary at each side of
-him. He looked up with a frown on seeing a visitor enter
-unannounced, but rose immediately as he recognized her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"That's right. I'm glad you did not wait," he said. Then as she
-glanced at his companions, added, "Come in here," and led her
-through a small ante-room where two young ladies sat waiting, and
-into the vacant council-chamber.
-</p>
-<p>
-I will detain you but a minute," she said hastily. "I am going to
-start for Washington to-night, and I want to visit the hospitals
-there. Will you give me a letter to some one who will get me
-permission? I am not sure that I shall find an acquaintance in
-the city at this season, except the family to whose house I shall
-go, and they are people of no influence. Besides, I do not wish
-to have any delay!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Certainly; with pleasure! I will give you letters that will take
-you through everything without a question. But what in the world
-are you going there now for? It is hardly safe. My autograph will
-stand a pretty good chance of falling into the hands of Mosby."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am uneasy about Mr. Granger," she replied directly. "We
-haven't heard from him for weeks, and I must know if there is
-anything the matter. He has been a good friend to me. He saved my
-life once, and I owe him everything. We are only friends, you
-know; but that word means something with me. Do you think there
-is any impropriety in my going? Mr. Lewis goes with me as far as
-Baltimore."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not the least impropriety in life," was the prompt reply. "I
-won't say a word against your going. I always think that when any
-person, man or woman, gets that raised look that I see in your
-face, slow coaches had better roll off the track. Come, now, and
-I'll write your letters."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are worth a million times your weight in gold!" Margaret
-exclaimed. "You are one of the few persons who don't carry a wet
-blanket about in readiness to extinguish people. I cannot tell
-how I thank you!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The gentleman laughed.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Rather an extravagant valuation, considering the present
-percentage, and my pounds avoirdupois. As for wet blankets, I
-never did much believe in 'em."
-</p>
-<p>
-While the governor wrote, Margaret stood at his elbow and watched
-the extraordinary characters that grew to life beneath his pen.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are you sure they will understand what those mean?" she asked
-timidly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"They will know the signature," he replied, making a dab over a
-letter, to indicate that an <i>i</i> was somewhere in the
-vicinity. "You can use them as
-<i>cartes</i>&mdash;well&mdash;<i>noires</i>, I suppose, on the strength of
-which you are to ask anything you please. Choate and I"&mdash;here a
-polysyllable was dashed across the whole sheet&mdash;"had a vocation
-for lettering tea-boxes, you know. There! now you had better use
-either of these first, if it is just as convenient, and keep Mr.
-Lincoln's till the last. But aren't you afraid of being stopped
-on the way? Everything is in a heap down there."
-</p>
-<p>
-"So I hear; but I feel as if we shall get through."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Don't mention to any one about my going, will you?" she
-whispered, as they went to the door.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_592">{592}</a></span>
-<p>
-He laughed. "To nobody but the council. Good-bye. Good luck to
-you!"
-</p>
-<p>
-An hour later she saw the city slowly disappearing as the cars
-rolled out over the new lands.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis settled himself comfortably in his seat. "And now for
-Maryland, my Maryland!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"By George!" he exclaimed presently, putting his hand into his
-pocket, "here is a letter from Mr. Southard. It will serve to
-amuse us; but I am sorry that the others hadn't seen it."
-</p>
-<p>
-He opened the letter, and they read it together. Mr. Southard had
-been ill, he wrote, and was yet only able to dawdle about the
-wards of the hospital and gossip with the patients. He had been
-offered private quarters, but had preferred a hospital. It
-chanced that the Sisters of Charity had charge of the one to
-which he was sent, and they had given him the best of care.
-</p>
-<p>
-That was the gist of the letter.
-</p>
-<p>
-How will that read to his congregation, I wonder?" Margaret said.
-"I fancy they won't half like it."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Perhaps not. But I call that a good letter. It is the best we
-have had; not a word of religion, from first to last."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But it breathes the very spirit of charity," was the quick
-reply. "How gently he mentions every one! Not a hard word even
-for the enemy!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis deliberately folded the letter.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I dare say; and that is the kind of religion I like. When I hear
-a man continually calling on God to witness everything he says
-and does, I always think that he stands terribly in need of a
-backer."
-</p>
-<p>
-They reached New York the next morning, and learned there that
-the panic was increasing rather than diminishing. The track was
-yet open, but no one went South who had not pressing business.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What do you say, Maggie?" asked Mr. Lewis. "On to Richmond, eh?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do let us go!" she begged, her impatience growing with every
-obstacle.
-</p>
-<p>
-"On it is, then. I like your pluck."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I should think that the lady would rather wait," the conductor
-suggested.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Wait, sir?" said Mr. Lewis bluffly. "By no means! Don't trouble
-yourself. She isn't one of the squealing sort."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Very well," the man replied doubtfully. "But we shall go pretty
-fast."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret's heavy eyes brightened. "That is what I want. You
-cannot go too fast for me."
-</p>
-<p>
-On they went again with steadily increasing speed, reaching
-Philadelphia ahead of time. There fresh news of disaster awaited
-them. On then to Baltimore, where they found the citizens arming,
-and every one full of excitement.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I must and will go through!" Margaret said passionately, seeing
-Mr. Lewis about to expostulate.
-</p>
-<p>
-He resumed his seat. "Then I shall go with you."
-</p>
-<p>
-They stopped only long enough to be assured that communication
-with Washington was still open, then started on the last stage of
-their journey, keeping a sharp lookout, since it was not
-impossible that at almost any moment they might be saluted by a
-volley of musketry, or thrown headlong over an unseen hiatus in
-the rail.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_593">{593}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Seems to me we are getting over the ground at a tearing pace,"
-remarked one of the passengers in a lazy drawl. "For my part, I
-don't know but I'd as lief stand my chance of a minie-ball as run
-the risk of being knocked into railroad-pi. A slug is a neat
-thing; but these smash-ups are likely to injure a fellow's
-personal appearance."
-</p>
-<p>
-"There they are!" exclaimed an other, who had been watching
-through a glass ever since they left Baltimore. "I should guess
-that there's only a score of cavalry; but they may have more
-behind. Do you see? Just over the hill. It's a pretty even thing
-which of us reaches the crossing first. Not above a mile ahead,
-is it?"
-</p>
-<p>
-He of the drawl, a cavalry captain, turned to Margaret. "Do you
-object to fire-arms, ma'am?" he asked, in much the same tone of
-voice he would have used in asking if she objected to
-cigar-smoke.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not when there is need of them," she replied.
-</p>
-<p>
-He pulled a beautiful silver-mounted revolver out of his pocket,
-and carefully examined the barrels.
-</p>
-<p>
-"This has been like a father to me," he said with great
-tenderness. "It's all the family I have. The barrels I call my
-six little sisters. Each one has a name. They've got pretty sharp
-tongues, but I like the sound of 'em; and they always speak to
-the point. Jennie is my favorite&mdash;see! her name is engraven, with
-the date&mdash;ever since she helped me out of a hobble at Ball's
-Bluff. I was playing cat and mouse with a fellow there, he with
-his rifle aimed, waiting to get a shot at something besides my
-boot or the end of my beard, and I hanging on the off-side of my
-horse, clinging to saddle and mane. I was brought up on
-horseback, and have spent a good part of my time scouring over
-the Southwest, Missouri, Texas, and thereabouts; but of course I
-couldn't hang there for ever. Well, just as I was thinking that I
-should have to drop, or straighten up and take my slug like a
-man, I managed to spare a finger and thumb, and got Paterfamilias
-here out of my belt. Where can one better be than in the bosom of
-his family? says I. I didn't hurt the fellow much; I didn't mean
-to. When two men have been dodging and watching that way for some
-time, they get to have quite an affection for each other. I
-spoilt his aim, though; and I fancy that he will never be a very
-good writer any more."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Aren't you sorry now that you came?" Mr. Lewis asked Margaret.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No," she said brightly; "I feel as though we shall get through."
-</p>
-<p>
-A new spirit was beginning to stir in her veins. The speed of the
-cars was of itself exciting&mdash;those long strides at the full
-stretch of the iron racer, when the wheels, instead of measuring
-the track with a steady roll, rise up and drop again with a sharp
-click, as regular as verse; not that cantering line of Virgil's,
-"Quadrupedante" and the rest, but a hard, iambic gallop. Besides
-this, the sense of danger and power combined was intoxicating.
-For, after all, danger is intolerable only when we have nothing
-to oppose to it.
-</p>
-<p>
-There had been trees and rocks, but they were changed to a buzz,
-the road became a dizziness, and the whole landscape swam. There
-was something near the track that looked about as much like
-horsemen as the shadow of the same would look in broken,
-swift-running water; a few shots were heard, there was a little
-rattle of shivered glass; then all the men broke into a shout.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Did you hear Jennie smile?" asked the captain, as he put
-Paterfamilias carefully into his belt again.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_594">{594}</a></span>
-<p>
-Margaret laughed with delight, and gave her handkerchief a little
-flutter out the window. "I can guess how chain-lightning feels,"
-she said; "only it can't go on minutes and minutes."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-            Chapter XII.
-<br><br>
-       The Court Of The King.
-</p>
-<p>
-<p>
-After their little adventure, our travellers rode triumphantly
-into Washington, and Miss Hamilton found her friends glad to
-receive her the more so that she came as a boarder, and their
-house was nearly empty.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Blacks had, in their younger days, been humble followers of
-Doctor Hamilton; and though their acquaintance with Margaret was
-slight, as they felt a kind of duty toward all the connection,
-they were proud to receive her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am anxious about friends whom I have not heard from for some
-time," she explained; "and I have come here to look round a
-little."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who do you know in the army?" Mrs. Black inquired, not too
-delicately, considering the reserve with which her visitor had
-spoken.
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton was not learned in the slippery art of evasion. She
-simply ignored the question.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am exhausted," she said. "Of course I did not sleep any last
-night; and the ride has been fatiguing. I have but one desire,
-and that is to rest. Can you show me to my room at once? I feel
-as though I should drop asleep as soon as my head touches the
-pillow. When I do sleep, please don't wake me."
-</p>
-<p>
-When she lay down to rest the afternoon sun was gilding the trees
-in the square opposite, flaring on the long white-washed walls of
-the hospital in their midst, and brightening momentarily the pale
-faces pressed close to the window-bars of the jail beyond. When
-she woke from the deep and dreamless sleep that seemed to have
-almost drawn the breath from her lips, it was night. Some one had
-set a star of gas burning in her room, and left a plate of cake
-and a glass of wine on the stand at her bedside.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret raised herself like one who has been nearly drowned and
-still catches for breath, gathered her benumbed faculties and
-recollected where she was. All was quiet within the house; and
-without there was stillness of another sort, a silence that was
-living and aware, a sense as of thousands waking and watching.
-Now and then there came from the hospital across the street some
-voice of a sleepless sufferer, the long, low moan of almost
-exhausted endurance, the broken cry of delirium, or the hoarse
-gasp of pneumonia.
-</p>
-<p>
-After a while these sounds became deadened, and finally lost in
-another that rose gradually, deepening like the roll of the sea
-heard at night.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret went to her window and leaned out. The sultry air was
-heavily-laden with fragrance from the flower-gardens around, and
-in the sky the large stars trembled like over-full drops of a
-golden shower descending through the ambient purple dusk.
-</p>
-<p>
-That sea-roll grew nearer as she listened, and became the
-measured tramp of men. Soon they appeared out of the darkness at
-the left, marching steadily line after line, and company after
-company, to disappear into darkness at the right. They moved like
-shadows, save for that multitudinous muffled tread, and save
-that, at certain points, a street-light would flash along a line
-of rifle-barrels, or catch in a flitting sparkle on a spur or
-shoulder-strap. Then, like a dream, they were gone; darkness and
-distance had swallowed them up from sight and hearing; and again
-there was that strange, live stillness, broken only by the
-complaining voices of the sick.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_595">{595}</a></span>
-<p>
-As Margaret looked, the dim light in one of the hospital-wards
-flared up suddenly and showed three men standing by a bed near
-one of the windows. They lifted the rigid form that lay there,
-and placed it on a stretcher; two of the men bore it out, and the
-light was lowered again, After a little while the men appeared
-outside bearing that white and silent length between them,
-through the dew and the starlight, and were lost from sight
-behind the trees. When they returned, they walked side by side;
-and what they had carried out they brought not back again.
-</p>
-<p>
-The watcher's heart sent out a cry: "O Father in heaven! see how
-thy creatures suffer."
-</p>
-<p>
-In the excitement of the last part of her journey, and the
-exhaustion following it, she had almost forgotten her object in
-coming; but this sight brought it all back. She remembered, too,
-that she had been dropping into the old way of taking all the
-burden on her own shoulders; and even in crying out for pain, she
-recollected the way of comfort. How sweet the restfulness of that
-recollection! As though a child, wandering from home, lost,
-weary, and terrified, should all at once see the hearth-light
-shining before him, and hear the dear familiar voices calling his
-name. She thought over the lessons learned during that blessed
-retreat, that Mecca toward which henceforth her thoughts would
-journey whenever her soul grew faint by the way. The
-half-forgotten trust came back. Who but He who had set the
-tangles of this great labyrinth could lead the way out of it? Who
-but He whose hand had strung the chords of every human heart
-could ease their straining, and bring back harmony to discord?
-Where but with Him, the centre of all being, could we look for
-those who are lost to us on earth?
-</p>
-<p>
-When, long after sunrise, Mrs. Black entered her visitor's
-chamber, she found Margaret kneeling by the window, fast asleep,
-with her head resting on the sill.
-</p>
-<p>
-There was plenty of news and excitement that morning. All
-communication with the North was cut off, the President and his
-family had come rushing in at midnight from their country-seat,
-and there was fighting going on only a few miles out of town. It
-was altogether probable that the Confederates would be in the
-city before night.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Black told all this with such an air of satisfaction in the
-midst of her terror that Margaret made some allowance for
-embellishment in the story. Evidently the good woman enjoyed a
-panic, and was willing to be frightened to the very verge of
-endurance for the sake of having it to tell of afterward. She
-went about in a sort of delighted agony, gathering up her spoons
-and forks, and giving little shrieks at the least unusual sound.
-</p>
-<p>
-"If they should bombard the city, my dear," she said, "we can go
-down cellar. I have an excellent cellar. It is almost certain
-that they will come. We must be in a strait when the
-treasury-clerks come out. And such a sight! They passed here just
-before I went up to call you, all in their shirt-sleeves, and
-looking no more like soldiers, dear, than I do this minute. Half
-of them carried their rifles over the wrong shoulder, and seemed
-scared to death lest they should go off. And no wonder; for the
-way the barrels slanted was enough to make you smile, even if
-there were a bomb-shell whizzing past your nose.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_596">{596}</a></span>
-The muzzles looked all ways for Sunday, so to speak. There were
-little boys with them, too. I don't see where their pas and mas
-were, if they've got any. It's a sin and shame. Do eat some more
-breakfast, pray! You may as well have a full stomach; for if we
-should be obliged to hide in the cellar, we might not dare come
-up to get a mouthful for twenty-four hours. I do hope it won't be
-a long siege. If they've got to come in, let'em come. I'm sure
-they would be too much of gentlemen to molest a houseful of
-defenceless females. As for poor Mr. Black, he doesn't count.
-Though he is my husband, I have seen braver men, not to speak of
-women. I had to threaten him, this morning, within an inch of his
-life, to prevent him from running a Confederate flag out of the
-window. He keeps one in his trunk, in case it should be needed.
-He declared he heard firing in the avenue. Bless me! What is
-that?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"One of the servants has broken a dish."
-</p>
-<p>
-"The destructive minxes! But where are you going, dear? Over to
-the hospital? Oh! they don't admit visitors on Sunday. Even on
-week-days you can't get in till after the surgeons have gone
-their rounds, and that is never before ten o'clock. It is
-military rule, you know; as regular as clock-work. It won't come
-ten till sixty minutes after nine o'clock, not if you perish. The
-first time I went in there, the soldier on guard came near
-running me through with his bayonet, just because I didn't walk
-in a certain particular road. I tried to reason with him; but you
-might as well reason with stocks and stones. There was the man in
-the middle of the road, and there was the point of his bayonet
-within an inch of my stomacher; and the upshot of the matter was,
-that I had to turn about and walk in a straight road instead of a
-curved one, for no earthly reason that I could see. You really
-cannot get in to-day. Wait till to-morrow, and I will go over
-with you."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret smoothed on her gloves.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mrs. Black," she said, "did you ever hear of the man who said
-that whenever he saw 'Positively no admittance' posted up
-anywhere, he always went in there directly?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well," the lady sighed, "I can't say but you may get in. You are
-your grandfather's granddaughter, and he never said fail. Only,
-be sure you look your best. You remember the song your mother
-used to sing about the chief who offered a boatman a silver pound
-to row him and his bride across the stormy ferry; and the
-Highland laddie said he would, not for the 'siller bright,' but
-for the 'winsome lady.' Many's the time I cried to hear your poor
-mother sing that, and how they all perished in the storm, and the
-father they were running away from stood on the shore lamenting.
-Your grandfather would wipe his eyes on the sly, and wait till
-she had finished every word of it; and then he would speak up and
-say that she had better be singing the praises of God. May be the
-officers over there will be like the Highland boatman, and do for
-you what they would n't do for an ugly old woman like me."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret closed her ears to that piercing sentence, "the song
-your mother used to sing "&mdash;O silent lips!&mdash;and going out,
-crossed over to the hospital.
-</p>
-<p>
-As she turned into a curved road that approached the door, a
-soldier pacing there presented his bayonet, probably the same one
-that had threatened Mrs. Black's plaited linen stomacher.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You must go the other way," he said with military brevity.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_597">{597}</a></span>
-<p>
-The smaller the warrior, the greater the martinet. Doubtless this
-young man regarded his present adversary with far more fierceness
-than he would have shown toward a six-foot Texan grey coat, with
-a belt bristling with armor, and two eyes like two blades.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret retreated with precipitance, hiding a smile, and took
-the other road.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your pass, ma'am," said a second soldier at the step.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I haven't any," she said pitifully, and looked with appealing
-eyes at an officer just inside the door.
-</p>
-<p>
-He came out immediately.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What is your pleasure, madam?" he asked, touching his hat.
-</p>
-<p>
-She told her errand briefly, and handed him the letters she had
-brought.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Black had not overrated the power of the winsome lady. The
-surgeon in charge, for this was he, merely glanced over the
-letters to learn the bearer's name and State. He had already
-found her face, voice, and gloves such as should, in his opinion,
-be admitted anywhere and at all times.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Please come in," he said courteously. "It is almost inspection
-time now, and I must be on duty. But if you will wait in my
-office a little while, I shall be happy to escort you through the
-wards."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank you! But cannot I go now, by myself?" said Margaret.
-</p>
-<p>
-He drew himself up stiffly, in high dudgeon at the little value
-she set on his escort. "Certainly! You can do just as you
-please."
-</p>
-<p>
-She thanked him again, and went up the hall, utterly unconscious
-that she had been greatly honored.
-</p>
-<p>
-The hall was very long, so long that the door at the furthest end
-looked as though only a child could go through without stooping,
-and the wards were built out to right and left. She visited every
-one, walking up and down the rows of beds, her eager glance
-flashing from face to face. There was no face there that she had
-ever seen before. With a faint voice she asked for the names of
-those who had lately died. The names were as strange as the
-faces. Finally she sat down in one of the wards to rest.
-</p>
-<p>
-The inside of the hospital was altogether less gloomy than the
-outside had appeared. They were in a bustle of preparation for
-inspection, putting clean white covers on the beds and the
-stands, regulating the medicine-table and the book-shelves,
-squaring everything, looking out that the convalescents were in
-trim, belt-buckles polished, shoes bright, hair smooth, jackets
-buttoned up to the chin.
-</p>
-<p>
-The ward looked fresh and cheerful. The white walls were
-festooned with evergreen, green curtains shaded the windows, and
-the floor was as white as a daily scouring could make it. Nearly
-half of the patients were dressed, and eagerly talking over the
-news; and even the sickest there looked on with interest, and
-brightened occasionally.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Fly round here!" cried the ward-master, a fair-faced, laughing
-young German. "They've gone into the next ward. Hustle those
-clothes out of sight somewhere. Tumble 'em out the window! Kohl,
-if you groan while the surgeons are here, I'll give you nothing
-but quinine for a week. Can't somebody see to that crazy fellow
-up there! He's pulling the wreath down off the wall. Pitch into
-him! Tell him that he shan't have a bit of ice to-day if he
-doesn't lie still. And there's that other light-head eating the
-pills all up. I'll be hanged if he hasn't swallowed twenty-five
-copper and opium pills!
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_598">{598}</a></span>
-Well, sir, you're dished. Long Tom, mind yourself, and keep your
-feet in bed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I can't!" whispered Tom, who seemed to be a mere boy, though his
-length was something preposterous. "The bed is too short."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, crumple up some way," said the ward-master, laughing.
-"I'll have you up next week, fever or no fever. If you lie there
-much longer, you'll grow through the other side of the ward."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It isn't my fault," Tom said pitifully to Miss Hamilton, who sat
-near him. "When I went to bed here, five weeks ago, I wasn't any
-taller than the ward-master; and now I believe I'm seven feet
-long. I believe it was that everlasting quinine!" And poor Tom
-burst into tears.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Here they are!" said the ward-master. "Attention!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Instantly all was silence. Each convalescent stood at the foot of
-his bed, and the nurses were drawn up inside the door. The little
-procession of surgeons appeared, marched up one side of the ward
-and down the other, and out the door; and the inspection was
-over.
-</p>
-<p>
-As they passed by her, one of them, in drawing his handkerchief
-from his pocket, drew with it a card, which, unseen by him,
-dropped at Margaret's feet. She took it up, and saw the
-photograph of the gentleman who had dropped it, dressed in the
-uniform of a Confederate colonel.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who was that last surgeon in the line?" she asked of Tom.
-</p>
-<p>
-"That's our surgeon, Doctor A&mdash;&mdash;. He is a Virginian."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who is his guarantee here, do you know?" she inquired.
-</p>
-<p>
-"He's a friend of Senator Wyly's," Tom said.
-</p>
-<p>
-An orderly came to the door. "Every man who is able to carry a
-rifle get ready to go down to Camp Distribution," he said. "Don't
-let any of 'em shirk, Linn. Send some of those fellows down to
-the office to be examined. Every man is wanted."
-</p>
-<p>
-As Margaret went out, she saw Surgeon A&mdash;&mdash; hasten from one of
-the wards, and look along the floor of the hall, as if in search
-of something. His face was very pale, she saw, and he looked up
-sharply at her as she approached him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Perhaps you miss this photograph, Col. A&mdash;&mdash;," she said, offering
-it to him.
-</p>
-<p>
-His face reddened violently as he took it. "Has any one seen it
-besides you, madam?" he asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No one."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will you give me an opportunity to explain?" he asked eagerly.
-"If you would permit me to call on you, or accompany you out
-now&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"By no means," she replied coldly. "I do not wish to hear any
-explanation. I am here on business of my own, and shall not,
-probably, take any further notice of what I have seen. But if on
-second thought I should consider myself obliged to mention it,
-you can make your explanation to Mr. Lincoln."
-</p>
-<p>
-She left him at that, and went home to hear Mrs. Black's
-compliments on her success.
-</p>
-<p>
-There were no more visits that day; but the next morning a close
-carriage was sent to the door, and Margaret began her rounds.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the afternoon she found herself going out Fourteenth street
-toward Columbia Hospital. There was a shower, and as the horses
-plodded along through the pouring floods of southern rain, she
-leaned her face upon her hand and wondered sadly what was to come
-of this search of hers, and if that strange, irresistible impulse
-on which she had been shot, like Camilla on her spear, over every
-obstacle to her coming, had been, after all, but a vain whim.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_599">{599}</a></span>
-<p>
-Looking up presently, she found that they were in the midst of
-what seemed to her an army, soldiers crowding close to the
-carriage, and stretching forward and backward as far as she could
-see. It was the Sixth corps, one of them told her, going out to
-meet Early and Breckinridge.
-</p>
-<p>
-They were marching in a mob, without order, plodding wearily
-through the rain that just served to wash from them the stains of
-their last battle. Their faces were browned and sober, their
-clothes faded and stained; many, foot-sore with long marches,
-carried their shoes in their hands. They were little enough like
-the gay troops she had seen march away from home.
-</p>
-<p>
-When they came to the college hospital, it was found impossible
-to reach the side-walk through that crowd, and Margaret ordered
-the driver to wait till they should pass. As she leaned back in
-her carriage and watched the living stream flow slowly over the
-hill, a gentleman came out of the hospital, and, standing on the
-sidewalk opposite her, seemed to be looking for some one among
-them. Presently his face brightened with a recognizing smile, and
-he waved his handkerchief to one who was riding near. As the
-horseman drew up between her and the sidewalk, Margaret's heart
-seemed to leap into her mouth. He was wrapped in a cloak, and a
-wide-brimmed hat, still dripping from the spent shower, shaded
-his face; but she knew him at the first glance.
-</p>
-<p>
-"O Mr. Granger!"
-</p>
-<p>
-A shout from the convalescents collected outside the tent wards
-drowned her glad cry, and the next instant she would not for the
-world have repeated it. By a sudden revulsion of feeling, the
-face that had flushed with delight now burned with unutterable
-shame and humiliation.
-</p>
-<p>
-For the first time she looked on what she had done as the world
-might look upon it&mdash;as Mr. Granger himself might look upon it.
-Friends or foes, he was a gentleman, and she a lady, and not a
-baby. She, wandering from place to place, unbidden, in search of
-him, weeping, praying, making a fool of herself, she thought
-bitterly, and he sitting his horse there gallantly, safe and
-merry, within reach of her hand, showing his white teeth in a
-laugh, stroking down his beard with that gesture she knew so
-well, taking off his hat to shake the raindrops from it, and loop
-up the aigrette at the side!
-</p>
-<p>
-She had time to remember with a pang of envy the quiet, guarded
-women who sit at home, and take no step without first thinking
-what the world will say of it.
-</p>
-<p>
-"If he should think of me at all," she said to herself, "he would
-fancy me at home, trailing my dress over his carpets, making
-little strokes with a paint-brush, having a care lest I ink my
-fingers, or teaching Dora to spell propriety&mdash;as I ought to be!
-as I ought to be! I need a keeper!"
-</p>
-<p>
-But still, with her veil drawn close, she looked at him steadily;
-for, after all, he was going into battle, and he was her friend.
-As she looked, he glanced up at one of the hospital windows, and
-immediately his glance became an earnest gaze. He ceased
-speaking, and his face showed surprise and perplexity.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What do you see?" his friend asked.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_600">{600}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Strange!" he muttered, half to himself. "It is only a
-resemblance, of course, but I fancied I saw there a face I know,
-looking out at me. It is gone now."
-</p>
-<p>
-Whatever it was, the sight appeared to sober as well as perplex
-him. He took leave of his friend, and, drawing back to join his
-regiment, brought his horse round rather roughly against Miss
-Hamilton's carriage.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I beg your pardon, madam!" he said at once, taking off his hat
-to the veiled lady he saw there.
-</p>
-<p>
-He must have thought her scarcely courteous; for she merely
-nodded, and immediately turned her face away.
-</p>
-<p>
-He rode slowly on, looking back once more to the hospital window,
-and in a few minutes was out of sight.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will you get out now?" asked the driver.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret started.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why, yes."
-</p>
-<p>
-She went in and seated herself in the hall. "I want to rest," she
-said to a soldier who stood there. "I don't feel quite well."
-</p>
-<p>
-A slight, elderly lady in a black dress, and with her bonnet a
-little awry, came down the stairs, and stood looking about as
-though she expected some one.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Can you tell me where Miss Blank is to be found?" she asked of
-the soldier to whom Margaret had spoken. "She has been out in the
-tent wards, and there she comes," he said, nodding toward a young
-woman who came in at the door furthest from them, and, with a
-face expressive of apprehension, approached the waiting lady.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You wished to see me?" she asked tremulously.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," was the reply. "You will be ready to return home
-to-morrow, or as soon as communication is reestablished. I will
-send your transportation papers to-night. You need not go into
-the wards again."
-</p>
-<p>
-The young woman stared in speechless distress and astonishment,
-her eyes filling with tears.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is that Miss Dix?" Margaret asked of the soldier.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," he replied. "She makes short work of it. That is one of
-the best nurses, and the best dresser in the hospital."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why is she dismissed?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Miss Dix has probably heard something about her. She's a good
-young woman, but the old lady is mighty particular."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret rose to meet Miss Dix as she came along the hall.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am going to stay in Washington a few days," she said, "and I
-would like to be useful while I am here. Can I do anything for
-you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who are you?" asked the lady. Margaret presented her
-credentials, and Miss Dix glanced them over, then looked sharply
-at their owner.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am afraid you are too young," she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am twenty-eight, and I feel a hundred," said Margaret.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you know anything about nursing?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"As much as ladies usually know."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will you go to a disagreeable place?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, if it is not out of the city."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come, then; my ambulance is at the door."
-</p>
-<p>
-In two minutes the carriage was dismissed, and Margaret was
-seated in the ambulance, and on her way down to the city again.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You will be very careful who you speak to," the lady began; "you
-will dress in the plainest possible manner, wear no ornaments,
-and, of course, high necks and long sleeves. Your hair&mdash;are those
-waves natural?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes'm!" said Margaret humbly, and was about to add that perhaps
-she could straighten them out, but checked herself.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_601">{601}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Well, dress your hair very snugly, wear clean collars, and don't
-let your clothes drag. It looks untidy. Is that dress quite
-plain?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret threw back the thin mantle she wore, and showed a gray
-dress of nunlike plainness.
-</p>
-<p>
-"That will do," the lady said approvingly.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here they turned into the square, and got out at the door of the
-hospital Margaret had visited the day before. She was introduced
-to the officer of the day, received an astonished bow from the
-surgeon-in-charge in passing, caught a glimpse of Doctor A&mdash;&mdash;,
-and was escorted to her ward.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Be you the new lady nurse?" asked Long Tom.
-</p>
-<p>
-"So it seems; but I am not quite sure," she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I'm proper glad," said Tom, with an ecstatic grin. "I liked the
-looks of you when I saw you yesterday."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And so here I am 'at the court of the king,'" she thought.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-            Chapter XIV.
-<br><br>
-         Out Of Harm's Way.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Common sense goes a great way in nursing; and when there is added
-a sympathetic heart, steady nerves, a soft voice, and a gentle
-hand, your nurse is about perfect, though she may not have gone
-through a regular course of training.
-</p>
-<p>
-Ward six considered itself highly favored in having Miss
-Hamilton's ministrations, even for a few days. The nauseous doses
-she offered were swallowed without a murmur, fevered eyes
-followed her light, swift step, and men took pride in showing how
-well they could bear pain when such appreciative eyes were
-looking on.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Black, rushing over to expostulate and entreat, became a
-convert. It was certainly very romantic, she said; and since her
-young friend was not treated like a common nurse, but had
-everything her own way, it was not so bad. And without, perhaps,
-having ever heard the name of Rochefoucauld, the good lady added,
-"Anything may happen in Washington now."
-</p>
-<p>
-Moreover, Miss Hamilton would sleep and take her meals at Mrs.
-Black's, which was another palliating circumstance.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis, with a fund of gibes ready, came also to see the new
-nurse. But the sight of her silenced him.
-</p>
-<p>
-Bending over a dying man to catch the last whisper of a message
-to those he would never see again; speaking a word of
-encouragement to one who lay with his teeth clenched and with
-drops of agony standing on his forehead; mediating in the chronic
-quarrel between regulars and volunteers; hushing the ward, that
-the saving sleep of an almost exhausted patient might not be
-broken&mdash;in each of these she seemed in her true place. As he
-looked on, he began to realize how impertinent are
-conventionalities when life and death are in the balance.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I don't blame you, Margaret," he said seriously, "though I am
-glad that you don't think of staying any longer than I do. I will
-give you till Friday afternoon. If we start then, we can reach
-home by Sunday morning. The track is open, and I am just off for
-Baltimore. Good-by."
-</p>
-<p>
-She accompanied him to the door. "If you should see Mr. Granger,
-or write to him," she said, with some confusion, "don't mention
-why I came here. I am ashamed of it."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_602">{602}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Oh! you needn't feel so," he replied soothingly. "We have had a
-nice little adventure to pay us for the journey; and you were
-breaking your heart with inaction and anxiety."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Women should break their hearts at home!" she said proudly, her
-cheeks glowing scarlet.
-</p>
-<p>
-That was Wednesday. Thursday morning, as she rose from a five
-o'clock breakfast to go over to the hospital, a carriage stopped
-at the door, and, looking out, she saw Mr. Lewis coming up the
-walk.
-</p>
-<p>
-O God! The blow had fallen! No need even to look into his white
-and smileless face to know that.
-</p>
-<p>
-He stopped, and spoke through the open window. "Come, Margaret!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Morning, was it? Morning! She could hardly see to reach the
-carriage, and the earth seemed to be heaving under her feet.
-</p>
-<p>
-As they drove through that strange, feverish world that the sunny
-summer day had all at once turned into, she heard a long, heavy
-breath that was almost a groan. "O dear!" said Mr. Lewis.
-</p>
-<p>
-She reached out her hand to him, as one reaches out in the dark
-for support. "Tell me!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is a wound in the head," he said; "and any wound there is
-bad. I got the dispatch at Baltimore last night, and came right
-back. They forwarded it from Boston. Why did not you tell me that
-you saw him Monday?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Saw him!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then you didn't know him?" Mr. Lewis said. "I thought it strange
-you shouldn't mention it. Louis says that when they were going
-out past Columbia College, he glanced up at one of the windows,
-and saw you leaning out and looking at him. You were very sober,
-and made no motion to speak; and after a moment your face seemed
-to fade away. It made such an impression on him that he asked to
-be carried there and to that room, though it isn't an officers'
-hospital. He was almost superstitious about it, till I told him
-that you were really here."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was true then. The intensity of her gaze, and the
-concentration of her thoughts upon him at that moment had by some
-mystery of nature which we cannot explain, though guesses have
-been many, impressed her image on his mind, and thrown the
-reflection of it through his eyes, so that where his glance
-chanced to fall at that instant, there she had seemed to be.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You must try to control yourself, Margie," Mr. Lewis went on,
-his own lip trembling. "There is danger of delirium. He is afraid
-of it, and watches every word he says. He can't talk much. I'll
-give you a chance to say all you want to; and whenever I'm
-needed, you can call me. I will wait just outside the door. Give
-your bonnet and shawl to the lady. There, this is his room, and
-that is yours, just across the entry."
-</p>
-<p>
-Then they went in.
-</p>
-<p>
-The pleasant chamber was clean, cool, and full of a soft flicker
-of light and shade from trees and vines outside. On a narrow,
-white bed opposite the windows lay Mr. Granger. Could it be that
-he was ill? His eyes were bright, and his face flushed as if with
-health. The only sign of hurt was a little square of wet cloth
-that lay on the top of his head. But in health, in anything short
-of deadly peril, he would have smiled on seeing her after so long
-a time, and when she stood in such need of reassuring. His only
-welcome was an outstretched hand, and a fixed, earnest gaze.
-</p>
-<p>
-She seated herself by the bedside. "I have come to help take care
-of you, Mr. Granger." Then smiling, faintly, "You don't look very
-sick."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_603">{603}</a></span>
-<p>
-"I was in high health before I got this," he said, motioning
-toward his head.
-</p>
-<p>
-Perhaps he saw in her face some sharp springing of hope; for he
-closed his eyes, and added almost in a whisper, "It isn't as wide
-as a barn-door, nor as deep as a well; but it will do."
-</p>
-<p>
-The room swam round before her eyes a moment, but she kept her
-seat.
-</p>
-<p>
-Presently the surgeon came in, and she gave place to him. But as
-he removed the cloth from his patient's head, she bent
-involuntarily, with the fascination of terror, and looked, and at
-the sight, dropped back into her chair again. She had looked upon
-nature in her inmost mysterious workshop, to which only death can
-open the door. It was almost like having committed a sacrilege.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis wet a handkerchief with cologne, and put it into her
-hand. The others had not noticed her agitation.
-</p>
-<p>
-When the surgeon left the room, he beckoned Margaret out with
-him. "All that you can do is, to keep his head cool," he said.
-"Don't let him get excited, or talk much without resting. He has
-kept wonderfully calm so far; but it is by pure force of will. I
-never saw more resolution."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was nothing to do, then, but to sit and wait; to make him
-feel that he was surrounded by loving care, and to let no sign of
-grief disturb his quiet.
-</p>
-<p>
-She returned to the room, and Mr. Lewis, after bending to hold
-the sick man's hand one moment in a silent clasp, went out and
-left them together.
-</p>
-<p>
-After a little while, when she had resumed her seat by him, Mr.
-Granger spoke, always in that suppressed voice that told what a
-strain there was on every nerve. "I should have asked you to
-marry me, Margaret, if I had gone back safe," he said, looking at
-her with a wistful, troubled gaze, as if he wished to say more,
-but could not trust himself.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No matter about that now," she replied gently. "You have been a
-good friend to me, and that is all I ever wanted."
-</p>
-<p>
-"We could be married here, if you are willing," he went on. "Mr.
-Lewis will see to everything."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret lightly smoothed his feverish hands. "No," she said, "I
-do not wish it. I didn't come for that. We are friends; no more.
-Let me wet the cloth on your head now. It is nearly dry."
-</p>
-<p>
-He closed his eyes, and made no answer. If he guessed confusedly
-that his proposal, and what it implied, so made, was little less
-than an insult, it was out of his power to help it then. And if
-for a breath Margaret felt that all her obligations to him were
-cancelled, and that she could not even call him friend again, it
-was but for a breath. His case was too pitiful for anger. She
-could forgive him anything now.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I shall always stay with Dora, if you wish it," she said softly.
-"Do not have any fears for her. I will be faithful. Trust me. I
-could gladly do it for her sake, for I never loved any other
-child so much. But still more, I will take care of her for
-yours."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I arranged everything before I came away," he said, looking up
-again. And his eyes, she saw, were swimming in tears. "I looked
-out for both of you. Your home was to be always with her, and Mr.
-Lewis to be guardian for both."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret could not trust herself to thank him for this proof of
-his care for her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Have you seen the chaplain?" she asked, to turn the subject.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_604">{604}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Yes; but I don't feel like seeing him again. He does me no good,
-and his voice confuses me. You are all the minister I
-need"&mdash;smiling faintly&mdash;"and yours is the only voice I can bear."
-</p>
-<p>
-While he rested, she sat and studied how indeed she should
-minister to him.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger had never been baptized; and, though nominally what
-is called an orthodox Congregationalist, he held their doctrines
-but loosely. He had that abstract religious feeling which is the
-heritage of all noble natures, the outlines of Christianity even
-before Christianity is adopted, as Madame Swetchine says; but his
-experience of pietists had not been such as to tempt him to join
-their number. If a man lived a moral life, were kind, just, and
-pure, it was about all that could be required of him, he thought.
-Such a life he had lived; and now, though he approached death
-solemnly, it was with no perceptible tremor, and no painful sense
-of contrition.
-</p>
-<p>
-She watched him as he lay there, smitten down in the midst of his
-life and of health. He was quiet, now, except that his hands
-never ceased moving, tearing slowly in strips the delicate
-handkerchief he found within his reach, pulling shreds from the
-palm-leaf fan that lay on the bed, or picking at the blanket. It
-was the only sign of agitation he showed. His face was deeply
-flushed, his breathing heavy, and his teeth seemed to be set.
-</p>
-<p>
-Once he raised himself, and looked through the open window at the
-treetops, and the city spires and domes. Margaret wondered if
-they looked strange to him, and what thoughts he had; but she
-never knew.
-</p>
-<p>
-After waiting as long as she dared, she spoke to him. "Can I talk
-to you a little, Mr. Granger, without disturbing you?" she asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Speak," he said; "you never disturb me."
-</p>
-<p>
-She began, and without any useless words, explained to him the
-fundamental doctrines of the church, original sin, the
-redemption, the necessity and effects of baptism. What she said
-was clear, simple, and condensed. A hundred times during the last
-two years she had studied it over for just such need as this.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You know of course," she concluded, "that I say this because I
-want you to be baptized. Are you willing?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I would like to do anything that would satisfy you," he said
-presently. "But you would not wish me to be a hypocrite? You
-cannot think that baptism would benefit me, if I received it only
-because you wanted me to. I don't think that I have led a bad
-life. I have not knowingly wronged any one. I am sorry for those
-sins which, through human frailty, I have committed. But if I
-were to live my life over again, I doubt if I should do any
-better. No, child, I think it would be a mockery for me to be
-baptized now."
-</p>
-<p>
-She changed the cloth on his head, laid the ice close to his
-burning temples, and fanned him in silence a few minutes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then she began again, repeating gently the command of our Saviour
-regarding baptism, and his charge to the church to baptize and
-teach.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is impossible to force conviction," he said. "I cannot
-profess to believe what I do not."
-</p>
-<p>
-The words came with difficulty, and his brows contracted as if
-some sudden pain shot through them.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am not careless of the future, dear," he said after a while.
-"I know that it is awful, and uncertain; but it is also
-inevitable! It is too late now for me to change. But I wish that
-you would pray for me. Let me hear you. Pray your own way. I am
-not afraid of your saints."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_605">{605}</a></span>
-<p>
-Margaret knelt beside the bed, and repeated the Our Father. He
-listened reverently, and echoed the Amen. She repeated the Acts,
-and there was no response this time; the Creed, and still there
-was no answer. She could not rise. In faltering tones she said
-the Memorare, with the request, "Obtain for this friend of mine
-the gift of faith, that though lost to me he may not be lost to
-himself."
-</p>
-<p>
-Still he was silent. All the pent emotion of her soul was surging
-up, and showing the joints in her mail of calmness. He was going
-out into what was to him the great unknown, and she, with full
-knowledge of the way, could not make him see it. One last, vain
-effort of self-control, then she burst forth with a prayer half
-drowned in tears.
-</p>
-<p>
-"O merciful Christ! I cannot live upon the earth unless I know
-that he is in heaven. Thou hast said, Knock, and it shall be
-opened unto you. With my heart and my voice I knock at the door.
-Open to me for thy word's sake! Thou hast said that whatever we
-ask in thy name, we shall receive. I ask for faith, for heaven,
-for my friend who is dying. Give them for thy word's sake! Thou
-hast said that whoever does good to the least of thy children has
-done it unto thee. Remember what this man has done for me. I was
-miserable, and he comforted me. I was at the point of death, and
-he saved me. I was hungry, and he fed me. I was a stranger, and
-he took me in. Oh! look with pity on me, who in all my life have
-had only one year of happiness, but many full of sorrow; see how
-my heart is breaking, and hear me for thy word's sake! for thy
-word's sake!"
-</p>
-<p>
-As her voice failed, a hand touched her head, and she heard Mr.
-Granger's voice.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I cannot make you distrust the truth of God," he said. "I do not
-believe; but also, I do not know. I am willing to do all that he
-requires. Perhaps he does require this. Such faith as yours must
-mean something. Do as you will."
-</p>
-<p>
-"May I send for a priest right away? And will you be baptized?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Dear little friend, yes!" he said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"O Mr. Granger! God bless you! I am happy. Doesn't he keep his
-promises? I will never distrust him again."
-</p>
-<p>
-His grave looks did not dampen her joy. Of course it was not
-necessary that he should have much feeling. The good intention
-was enough. She wet his face with ice-water, laid ice to his
-head, put the fan in his hand, in her childish, joyful way,
-shutting his fingers about it one by one, then went out to send
-Mr. Lewis for a priest.
-</p>
-<p>
-He stared at her. "Why, you look as if he were going to get
-well," he said almost indignantly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"So he is, Mr. Lewis," she answered. "He is going to have the
-only real getting well. I shall never have to be anxious about
-him any more. He will be out of harm's way."
-</p>
-<p>
-She went back to the sick-room then, quiet again. "Forgive me if
-my gladness jarred on you," she said. "I forgot everything but
-that you were now all safe. You will go straight to heaven, you
-know. And of course, since it is to be now, then now is the best
-time."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_606">{606}</a></span>
-<p>
-He said nothing, but watched her with steady eyes, wherever she
-moved. What thoughts were thronging behind those eyes, she could
-never know. Nothing was said till Mr. Lewis came back with the
-priest.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was sunset when he came, and the father staid till late in the
-evening. Then he went, promising to say mass the next morning for
-his new penitent, and to come early to see him.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Granger was evidently suffering very much, and Margaret would
-not talk to him. Only once, when he opened his eyes, she said,
-</p>
-<p>
-"You wish Dora to be a Catholic?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, surely! O my child!" with a little moan of pain.
-</p>
-<p>
-When the priest came up in the morning, they had some difficulty
-in rousing Mr. Granger; and when at length he comprehended their
-wishes, he looked from one to the other with an expression of
-incredulity.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Communion for me!" he repeated.
-</p>
-<p>
-The priest sat beside him, and as gently as possible prepared him
-for the sacrament.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What! it is really and indeed the body and blood of Jesus Christ
-that is offered me as a viaticum?" he asked, now thoroughly
-roused.
-</p>
-<p>
-"God himself has said so; and who shall dispute his word?"
-</p>
-<p>
-The patient raised himself upright. "After I have spent all my
-life in forgetfulness of him, when I turn to him only on my
-death-bed, will he come to me now, and give me all himself?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," the priest answered. "He forgives generously, as only God
-can. He does not wait, he comes to you. 'Behold! I stand at the
-door, and knock.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-The sick man lifted his face; "O wonderful love!" he exclaimed.
-</p>
-<p>
-The priest smiled, and put on his stole.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The angels wonder no less than you," he said.
-</p>
-<p>
-Left alone with him once more, Margaret knelt, praying
-continually, but softly too, so as not to disturb one sacred
-thought in that soul for the first time united to its Saviour.
-When a half-hour had passed, she touched his folded hands. He had
-always before opened his eyes at her faintest touch; but now he
-did not.
-</p>
-<p>
-"He has lost consciousness," the surgeon said, when she called
-him. "He will never speak again."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! never again? What? never again?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis took her by the hand. "Try to bear it, Maggie," he
-said. "Think what comfort you have."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But he never said good-by to me! I wanted to say something to
-him. I had so much to tell him; but I thought of him first!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Ah! well. When we go down to the valley of the shadow of death
-with our loved ones, and find the iron door that admits them shut
-in our faces, then indeed we know, if never before, how precious
-is faith. And those who can see the pearly gates beyond the iron
-one should take shame to themselves if they refuse to be
-comforted.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_607">{607}</a></span>
-
-            <h2>Beethoven.</h2>
-
-            <h3>His Youth.</h3>
-
-<br>
-<p>
-At eighteen, Louis Beethoven became conscious of new perceptions,
-and new capacities for joy. A young kinswoman of his mother, a
-beautiful, sprightly girl, whose parents lived in Cologne, came
-on a visit to Bonn. The voice and smile of Adelaide called his
-genius into full life, and he felt he had power to do as he had
-never done. But Adelaide could not understand him, nor appreciate
-his melodies, which were now of a bolder and higher, yet a
-tenderer cast. He never declared his love in language; but his
-brother Carl discovered it, and one evening, Louis overheard him
-and Adelaide talking of his boyish passion, and laughing at him.
-The girl said she "was half inclined to draw him out, it was such
-a capital joke!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Pale and trembling, while he leaned against the window-seat
-concealed by the folds of a curtain, Louis listened to this
-colloquy. As his brother and cousin left the room, he rushed past
-them to his own apartment, locked himself in, and did not come
-forth that night. Afterward he took pains to shun the company of
-the heartless fair one; and was always out alone in his walks, or
-in his room, where he worked every night till quite exhausted.
-The first emotions of chagrin and mortification soon passed away;
-but he did not recover his vivacity. His warmest feelings had
-been cruelly outraged; the spring of love was never again to
-bloom for him; and it seemed, too, that the fair blossoms of
-genius also were nipped in the bud. The critics of the time,
-fettered as they were to the established form, were shocked at
-his departure from their rules. Even Mozart, whose fame stood so
-high, whose name was pronounced with such enthusiastic
-admiration, what struggles had he not been forced into with these
-who would not approve of his so-called innovations! The youth of
-nineteen had struck out a bolder path! What marvel, then, that,
-instead of encouragement, nothing but censures awaited him? His
-master, Neefe, who was accustomed to boast of him as his pride
-and joy, now said, coldly and bitterly, his pupil had not
-fulfilled his cherished expectations&mdash;nay, was so taken up with
-his newfangled conceits, that he feared he was for ever lost to
-real art.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is it so indeed?" asked Louis of himself in his moments of
-misgivings and dejection. "Is all a delusion? Have I lived till
-now in a false dream?"
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Young Beethoven sat in his chamber, leaning his head on his hand,
-looking gloomily out of the vine-shaded window. There was a knock
-at the door; but wrapped in deep despondency, he heard it not,
-nor answered with a "come in."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_608">{608}</a></span>
-<p>
-The door was opened softly a little ways, and in the crevice
-appeared a long and very red nose, and a pair of small, twinkling
-eyes, overshadowed by coal-black bushy eyebrows. Gradually became
-visible the whole withered, sallow, comical, yet good-humored
-face of Master Peter Pirad.
-</p>
-<p>
-Peter Pirad was a famous kettle drummer, and was much ridiculed
-on account of his partiality for that instrument, though he also
-excelled on many others. He always insisted that the kettle-drum
-was the most melodious, grand, and expressive instrument, and he
-would play upon it alone in the orchestra. But he was one of the
-best-hearted persons in the world. It was quite impossible to
-look upon his tall, gaunt, clumsy figure&mdash;-which, year in and
-year out, appeared in the well-worn yellow woolen coat,
-buckskin-colored breeches, and dark worsted stockings, with his
-peculiar fashioned felt cap&mdash;without a strong inclination to
-laugh; yet, ludicrous as was his outward man, none remained long
-unconvinced that, spite of his exterior, spite of his numerous
-eccentricities, Peter Pirad was one of the most amiable of men.
-</p>
-<p>
-From his childhood, Louis had been attached to Pirad; in later
-years, they had been much together. Pirad, who had been absent
-several months from Bonn, and had just returned, was surprised
-beyond measure to find his favorite so changed. He entered the
-room, and walking up quietly, touched the youth on the shoulder,
-saying, in a tone as gentle as he could assume, "Why, Louis! what
-the mischief has got into your head, that you would not hear me?"
-Louis started, turned round, and, recognizing his old friend,
-reached him his hand.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You see," continued Pirad, "you see I have returned safely and
-happily from my visit to Vienna. Ah! Louis! Louis! that's a city
-for you. As for taste in art, you would go mad with the Viennese!
-As for artists, there are Albrechtsberger, and Haydn, Mozart, and
-Salieri&mdash;my dear fellow, you <i>must</i> go to Vienna." With that
-Pirad threw up his arms, as if beating the kettle-drum, (he
-always did so when excited,) and made such comical faces, that
-his young companion, spite of his sorrow, could not help bursting
-out laughing.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Saker!" cried Pirad, "that is clever; I like to see that you can
-laugh yet, it is a good sign; and now, Louis, pluck up like a
-man, and tell me what all this means. Why do I find you in such a
-bad humor, as if you had a hole in your skin, or the drums were
-broken&mdash;out with it? My brave boy, what is the matter with you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah!" replied Beethoven, "much more than I can say; I have lost
-all hope, all trust in myself. I will tell you all my troubles,
-for, indeed, I cannot keep them to myself any longer!" So the
-melancholy youth told all to his attentive auditor; his unhappy
-passion for his cousin; his master's dissatisfaction with him,
-and his own sad misgivings.
-</p>
-<p>
-When he had ended, Pirad remained silent awhile, his forefinger
-laid on his long nose, in an attitude of thoughtfulness. At
-length, raising his head, he gave his advice as follows: "This is
-a sad story, Louis; but it convinces me of the truth of what I
-used to say; your late excellent father&mdash;I say it with all
-respect to his memory&mdash;and your other friends, never knew what
-was really in you. As for your disappointment in love, that is
-always a business that brings much trouble and little profit.
-Women are capricious creatures at best, and no man who has a
-respect for himself will be a slave to their humors. I was a
-little touched that way myself, when I was something more than
-your age; but the kettle-drum soon put such nonsense out of my
-head.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_609">{609}</a></span>
-My advice is, that you stick to your music, and let her go. For
-what concerns the court-organist, Neefe, I am more vexed; his
-absurdity is what I did not precisely expect. I will say nothing
-of Herr Yunker; he forgets music in his zeal for counterpoint; as
-if he should say he could not see the wood for the tall trees, or
-the city for the houses! Have I not heard him assert, ay! with my
-own living ears, slanderously assert, that the kettle-drum was a
-superfluous instrument? Only think, Louis, the kettle-drum a
-superfluous instrument! Donner and&mdash;! Did not the great
-Haydn&mdash;bless him for it!&mdash;undertake a noble symphony expressly
-with reference to the kettle-drum? What could you do with
-'<i>Dies irae, dies illa</i>,' without the kettle-drum? I played
-it at Vienna in <i>Don Giovanni</i>, the chapel-master Mozart
-himself directing. In the spirit scene, Louis, where the statue
-has ended his first speech, and Don Giovanni in consternation
-speaks to his attendants, while the anxious heart of the appalled
-sinner is throbbing, the kettle-drum thundering away&mdash;" Here
-Pirad began to sing with tragical gesticulation. "Yes, Louis, I
-beat the kettle-drum with a witness, while an icy thrill crept
-through my bones; and for all that the kettle-drum is a useless
-instrument! What blockheads there are in this world! To return to
-your master&mdash;I wonder at his stupidity, and yet I have no cause
-to wonder. Now, my creed is, that art is a noble inheritance left
-us by our ancestors, which it is our duty to enlarge and increase
-by all honest and honorable means. My dear boy, I hold you for an
-honest heir, who would not waste your substance; who has not only
-power, but will to perform his duty. So take courage, be not cast
-down by trifles; and take my advice and go to Vienna. There you
-will find your masters: Mozart, Haydn, Albrechtsberger, and
-others not so well known. One year, nay, a few months in Vienna,
-will do more for you than ten years vegetating in this good city.
-You can soon learn, there, what you are capable of; only mind
-what Mozart says, when you are playing in his hearing."
-</p>
-<p>
-The young man started up, his eyes sparkling, his cheeks glowing
-with new enthusiasm, and embraced Pirad warmly. "You are right,
-my good friend!" he cried. "I will go to Vienna; and shame on any
-one who despises your counsel! Yes, I will go to Vienna."
-</p>
-<p>
-When he told his mother of his resolution, she looked grave, and
-wept when all was ready for his departure. But Pirad, with a
-sympathizing distortion of countenance, said to her, "Be not
-disturbed, my good Madame van Beethoven! Louis shall come back to
-you much livelier than he is now; and, madame, you may comfort
-yourself with the hope that your son will become a great artist!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Young Beethoven visited Vienna for the first time in the spring
-of the year 1792. He experienced strange emotions as he entered
-that great city; perhaps a dim presentiment of what he was in
-future years to accomplish and to suffer. He was not so fortunate
-this time as to find Haydn there; the artist had set out for
-London a few days before. He was disappointed, but the more
-anxious to make the acquaintance of Mozart. Albrechtsberger,
-Haydn's intimate friend, undertook to introduce him to Mozart.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_610">{610}</a></span>
-<p>
-They went several times to Mozart's house before they found him
-at home. At last, on a rainy day, they were fortunate. They heard
-him from the street, playing; our young hero's heart beat wildly
-as they went up the steps, for he looked on that dwelling as the
-temple of art. When they were in the hall, they saw, through a
-side-door that stood open, Mozart, sitting playing the piano;
-close by him sat a short, fat man, with a shining red face; and
-at the window, Madame Mozart, holding her youngest son, Wolfgang,
-on her lap, while the eldest was sitting on the floor at her
-feet.
-</p>
-<p>
-The composer greeted Albrechtsberger cordially, and looked
-inquiringly on his young companion. "Herr van Beethoven from
-Bonn," said Albrechtsberger, presenting his friend; "an excellent
-composer, and skilful musician, who is desirous of making your
-acquaintance."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are heartily welcome, both of you, and I shall expect you to
-remain and dine with me to-day," said Mozart; and taking Louis by
-the hand, he led him to the window where his wife sat. "This is
-my Constance," he continued, "and these are my boys; this little
-fellow is but three months old"&mdash;and throwing his arm around
-Constance's neck, he stooped and kissed the smiling infant.
-</p>
-<p>
-Louis looked with surprise on the great artist. He had fancied
-him quite different in his exterior; a tall man, of powerful
-frame, like Handel. He saw a slight, low figure, wrapped in a
-furred coat, notwithstanding the warmth of the season; his pale
-face showed the evidences of long-continued ill-health; his
-large, bright, speaking eyes alone reminded one of the genius
-that had created <i>Idomeneus</i> and <i>Don Giovanni</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-"So you, too, are a composer?" asked the fat man, coming up to
-Beethoven. "Look you, sir, I will tell you what to do; lay
-yourself out for the opera; the opera is the great thing!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Louis looked at him in surprise and silence.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Master Emanuel Schickaneder, the famous impressario," said
-Albrechtsberger, scarcely controlling his disposition to laugh.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," continued the fat man, assuming an air of importance, "I
-tell you I know the public, and know how to get the weak side of
-it; if Mozart would only be led by me, he could do well! I say if
-you will compose me something&mdash;by the way, here is a season
-ticket; I shall be happy if you will visit my theatre; to-morrow
-night we shall perform the <i>Magic Flute</i>, it is an admirable
-piece, some of the music is first-rate, some not so good, and I
-myself play the Papageno."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You ought to do something in that line," said Mozart, laughing,
-"your singing puts one in mind of an unoiled door-hinge."
-</p>
-<p>
-The impressario took a pinch of snuff, and answered with an
-important air, "I can tell you, sir, the singing is quite a
-secondary thing in the opera, for I know the public."
-</p>
-<p>
-Here several persons, invited guests of the composer, came in;
-among them Mozart's pupils, Sutzmayr and Holff, with the Abbé
-Stadler and the excellent tenorist, Peyerl. After an hour or so
-spent in agreeable conversation, enlivened by an air from Mozart,
-they went to the dinner-table. Schickaneder here played his part
-well, doing ample justice to the viands and wine. The dinner was
-really excellent; and the host, notwithstanding his appearance of
-feeble health, was in first-rate spirits, abounding in gayety,
-which soon communicated itself to the rest of the company. After
-they had dined, and the coffee had been brought in, Mozart took
-his new acquaintance apart from the others, and asked if he could
-be of any service to him.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_611">{611}</a></span>
-<p>
-Louis pressed the master's hand, and without hesitation gave his
-history, and informed him of his plans; concluding by asking his
-advice.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mozart listened with a benevolent smile; and when he had ended,
-said, "Come, you must let me hear you play." With that, he led
-him to an admirable instrument in another apartment; opened it,
-and invited him to select a piece of music.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will you give me a theme?" asked Louis.
-</p>
-<p>
-The master looked surprised; but without reply wrote some lines
-on a leaf of paper, and handed it to the young man. Beethoven
-looked over it; it was a difficult chromatic fugue theme, the
-intricacy of which demanded much skill and experience. But
-without being discouraged, he collected all his powers, and began
-to execute it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mozart did not conceal the sur prise and pleasure he felt when
-Louis first began to play. The youth perceived the impression he
-had made, and was stimulated to more spirited efforts.
-</p>
-<p>
-As he proceeded, the master's pale cheek flushed, his eyes
-sparkled; and stepping on tiptoe to the open door, he whispered
-to his guests, "Listen, I beg of you! You shall have some thing
-worth hearing."
-</p>
-<p>
-That moment rewarded all the pains, and banished all the
-apprehensions of the young aspirant after excellence. Louis went
-through his trial-piece with admirable spirit, sprang up, and
-went to Mozart; seizing both his hands and pressing them to his
-throbbing heart, he murmured, "I also am an artist!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are indeed!" cried Mozart, "and no common one! And what may
-be wanting, you will not fail to find, and make your own. The
-grand thing, the living spirit, you bore within you from the
-beginning, as all do who possess it. Come back soon to Vienna, my
-young friend&mdash;very soon! Father Haydn, Albrechtsberger, friend
-Stadler, and I will receive you with open arms; and if you need
-advice or assistance, we will give it you to the best of our
-ability."
-</p>
-<p>
-The other guests crowded round Beethoven, and hailed him as a
-worthy pupil of art! Even the silly impressario looked at him
-with vastly increased respect, and said, "I can tell you, I know
-the public-well, we will talk more of the matter this evening
-over a glass of wine."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I also am an artist!" repeated Louis to himself, when he
-returned late to his lodgings.
-</p>
-<p>
-Much improved in spirits, and reinspired with confidence in
-himself, he returned to Bonn, and ere long put in practice his
-scheme of paying Vienna a second visit.
-</p>
-<p>
-This he accomplished at the elector's expense, being sent by him
-to complete his studies under the direction of Haydn. That great
-man failed to perceive how fine a genius had been intrusted to
-him. Nature had endowed them with opposite qualities; the
-inspiration of Haydn was under the dominion of order and method;
-that of Beethoven sported with them both, and set both at
-defiance.
-</p>
-<p>
-When Haydn was questioned of the merits of his pupil, he would
-answer with a shrug of his shoulders&mdash;"He executes extremely
-well." If his early productions were cited as giving evidence of
-talent and fire, he would reply, "He touches the instrument
-admirably." To Mozart belonged the praise of having recognized at
-once, and proclaimed to his friends, the wonderful powers of the
-young composer.
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_612">{612}</a></span>
-
-           <h2>Sauntering.</h2>
-
-             <h3>NO. 11.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-Among the churches of Paris which I visited in my saunterings,
-whose very stones seemed to have a tongue and cry aloud, was the
-interesting one of St. Germain des Près.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "Each shrine and tomb within thee seems to cry."
-</p>
-<p>
-Here were buried Mabillon and Descartes, and also King Casimir of
-Poland, who laid aside his crown for a cowl in 1668, and died
-abbot of the monastery in 1672. He is represented kneeling on his
-tomb offering his crown to heaven. Two of the Douglases are
-likewise buried here, with their carved effigies lying on their
-tombs clad in armor. One was the seventeenth earl, who died in
-1611. He had been bred a Protestant, but, going to France in the
-time of Henry III., was converted to the faith of his fathers,
-those old knights of the Bleeding Heart, by the discourses at the
-Sorbonne. He returned to Scotland after his conversion, but was
-persecuted there on account of his religion, and had the choice
-of prison or banishment. So he chose to be exiled, and went back
-to France, where he ended his days in practices of piety. He used
-to attend the canonical hours at the abbey of St. Germain des
-Près, and even rose for the midnight office. It was no unusual
-thing in the middle ages for the laity to assist at the night
-offices, and the church encouraged the practice. There was a
-confraternity in Paris, in the thirteenth century, composed of
-devout persons who used to attend the midnight service. This was
-not confined to men, but even ladies did the same. Many people
-used to pass whole nights in prayer in the churches, as, for
-example, King Louis IX. and Sir Thomas More.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is in this church a statue of the Blessed Virgin, under a
-Gothic canopy all of stone, at the west end of the edifice, and
-looking up the right aisle. It pleased me so much that I never
-passed the church afterward without turning aside for a moment to
-say my Ave before it. Tapers were always burning before it, and
-there was always some one in prayer, who, like me, would
-doubtless forget for a few moments the cares and vanities of life
-at the feet of the Mother of Sorrows. This statue was at St.
-Denis before the revolution, having been given to that church by
-Queen Jeanne D'Evereux.
-</p>
-<p>
-King Childebert's tomb formerly occupied a conspicuous place in
-this church, but it is now at St. Denis, where he is represented
-holding a church in his hands, and with shoes which have very
-sharp and abrupt points at the ends, like an acuminate leaf. He
-was the original founder of this church and the abbey once
-adjoining. It was called the Golden Church, because the walls
-outside were covered with plates of brass, gilt, and inside with
-pictures on a gold ground. It took its name from St. Germain,
-Bishop of Paris, who was buried here, and was the spiritual
-adviser of Childebert. St. Germaine l'Auxerrois was named from
-the sainted bishop of Auxerre of that name, renowned for his
-instrumentality in checking Pelagianism in England. He visited
-that country twice for that purpose. And at the head of the
-Britons he was the instrument of the great Alleluia victory in
-430.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_613">{613}</a></span>
-<p>
-Whatever other people discover, I found a great deal of piety in
-Paris. The numerous churches and chapels are frequented at an
-early hour for the first masses; and all through the day is a
-succession of worshippers. I particularly loved the morning mass
-in the Lady Chapel at St. Sulpice, at which a crowd of the common
-people used to assist and sing charming cantiques in honor of the
-Madonna or the Blessed Sacrament. And at Notre Dame des
-Victoires, one of the most popular churches in the city, and
-renowned throughout the world for its arch-confraternity to which
-so many of us belong, there is no end to the stream of people.
-The wonderful answers to prayer and the many miracles wrought
-there draw needy and heavily-laden hearts, not only from all
-parts of the kingdom, but of the world. The altar of Notre Dame
-des Victoires looks precisely as it is represented in pictures.
-The front and sides are of crystal, through which are seen the
-relics of St. Aurelia, from the Roman catacombs. Seven large
-hanging lamps burn before it, and an innumerable quantity of
-tapers. On the walls are <i>ex voto</i> and many marble tablets
-with inscriptions of gratitude to Mary; such as: "<i>J'ai invoqué
-Marie, et elle m'a exaucé.</i>" "<i>Reconnaissance à Marie</i>,"
-etc. It is extremely interesting and curious to examine all
-these, and they wonderfully kindle our faith and fervor.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among them is one of particular interest&mdash;-a silver heart set in
-a tablet of marble fastened to one of the pillars of the grand
-nave. On it are the arms of Poland and a votive inscription. This
-heart contains a portion of the soil of Poland impregnated with
-the blood of her martyred people&mdash;hung here before her whom they
-style their queen, as a perpetual cry to Mary from the bleeding
-heart of crushed and Catholic Poland. This was placed here on the
-two hundredth anniversary of the consecration of that country to
-the Blessed Virgin Mary, by King John Casimir, on the first of
-April, 1656. On the same day, 1856, all the Polish exiles in
-Paris assembled at Notre Dame des Victoires, to renew their vows
-to Mary and make their offering, which was received and blessed
-by M. l'Abbé Desgenettes, the venerable curé, and founder of the
-renowned arch-confraternity of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. A
-lamp burns perpetually before this touching memorial, emblem of
-the faith, hope, and charity of the donors.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the national prayer of the Poles is the following touching
-invocation:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Give back, O Lord! to our Poland her ancient splendor. Look
-  down on our fields, soaked with blood! When shall peace and
-  happiness blossom among us? God of wrath, cease to punish us.
-  At thy altar we raise our prayer; deign to restore us, O Lord!
-  our free country."
-</p>
-<p>
-This prayer is a <i>Parce nobis</i> which will be echoed by every
-one who sympathizes with the down-trodden and oppressed.
-</p>
-<p>
-Coming out of the church of Notre Dame des Victoires I heard the
-words, "Quelques sous, pour l'amour de la Sainte Vierge," and
-looking around I saw an old man holding out his hat in the most
-deferential of attitudes&mdash;one of the few beggars I met in the
-city. I could not resist an appeal made in the holy name of Mary,
-and on the threshold of one of her favorite sanctuaries. I
-thought of M. Olier, the revered founder of the Sulpicians, who
-made a vow never to refuse anything asked in the name of the
-Blessed Virgin&mdash;a resolution that would not often be put to the
-test in the United States, but one which in Catholic countries is
-less easy to be kept, where the name of Mary is so often on the
-lips.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_614">{614}</a></span>
-M. Olier never left his residence without encountering a crowd of
-cunning beggars crying for alms in the name of the Sainte Vierge,
-and, when he had nothing more, he would give them his
-handkerchief or anything else he had in his pocket.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some do not approve of indiscriminate charity; but if God were to
-bestow his bounties only on the deserving, where should we all
-be? Freely ye have received; freely give.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Sainte Chapelle has peculiar attractions. It was built in the
-middle of the thirteenth century for the reception of the
-precious relics connected with the Passion of our Lord, given by
-Baldwin II., Emperor of Constantinople, to Louis IX., in 1238.
-There is a nave with four windows on each side, and a
-semi-circular choir with seven windows, all filled with beautiful
-old stained glass, representing the principal events of the life
-of St. Louis and of the first two crusades.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among the relics enshrined here was the holy crown of thorns. The
-king sent two Dominican friars, James and Andrew, to
-Constantinople for it. When it approached Paris, St. Louis, Queen
-Blanche his mother, with a great many of the court, went out
-beyond Sens to meet it. Entering Paris, the king and his brother
-Robert, clad in woollen and with feet bare, bore the shrine on
-their shoulders to the church. The bishops and clergy followed
-with bare feet. The streets through which they passed were
-sumptuously adorned. In 1793, the holy crown was transferred to
-the Hotel des Monnaies, where it was taken from its reliquary and
-given with other relics to the commission of arts under the care
-of Secretary Oudry, from whom the Abbé Barthélemi obtained it in
-1794. He was one of the conservateurs of the antique medals in
-the Bibliothèque Nationale, where the sacred relic remained till
-1804, when the Cardinal de Belloy, Archbishop of Paris, reclaimed
-the relics from the ministre des cultes. Every proper means was
-taken to identify them, which being satisfactorily done, the holy
-crown was transported with great pomp to Notre Dame, August 10,
-1806.
-</p>
-<p>
-A portion of the holy cross, once in the Sainte Chapelle, was
-saved in 1793 by M. Jean Bonvoisin, a member of the commission
-des arts and a painter. He gave it to his mother, who preserved
-it with veneration during the revolution and restored it to the
-chapter of Paris, in 1804, after M. Bonvoisin and his mother had
-sworn to the truth of these facts in order to authenticate the
-relic. It was then allowed to be exposed in the reliquary of
-crystal in which we see it.
-</p>
-<p>
-There were at Paris other portions of the holy and true cross on
-which our Saviour was crucified. One was the Vraie Croix
-d'Anseau, so called because it was sent in 1109 to the archbishop
-and chapter of Paris by Anselle or Anseau, <i>grand-chantre</i>
-of the church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, who had
-obtained it from the superior of the Georgian nuns in that city,
-the widow of David, king of Georgia. In 1793, M. Guyot de St.
-Hélène obtained permission to keep the cross of Anseau. He
-divided it with Abbé Duflost, guardian of the four crosses made
-of the part he kept, of which three only have been restored to
-Notre Dame. M. Guyot took the precaution to have them
-authenticated, and they were restored to the veneration of the
-faithful in 1803.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_615">{615}</a></span>
-<p>
-Another portion of the true cross was called the Palatine cross,
-because it belonged to Anna Gonzaga of Cleves, a Palatine
-princess, who left it by her will to the Abbey of St. Germain des
-Près, attesting that she had seen it in the flames without being
-burnt. This relic was enclosed in a cross of precious stones,
-double, like the cross of Jerusalem. This cross had belonged to
-Manuel Comnenus, Emperor of Constantinople, who presented it to a
-prince of Poland. It is eight inches high, without measuring the
-foot of <i>vermeil</i> of about the same height, ornamented with
-precious stones. It has two cross-pieces, like the crosses of
-Jerusalem, which are filled with the wood of the true cross. It
-is bordered with diamonds and amethysts. The Palatine princess
-received it from John Casimir, King of Poland, who took it with
-him when he retired to France. It was preserved by a curé in
-1793, and restored, in 1828, to Notre Dame.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are two portions of the holy nails at Notre Dame de
-Paris&mdash;one formerly at the abbey of St. Denis, and the other at
-St. Germain des Près. The first was brought by Charles the Bald
-from Aix-la-Chapelle, it having been given Charlemagne by the
-Patriarch of Jerusalem.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1793, M. Le Lièvre, a member of the Institute, begged
-permission to take it from the commission des arts to examine and
-analyze it as a specimen of mineralogy. He thus saved it from
-profanation, and restored it to the Archbishop of Paris in 1824.
-</p>
-<p>
-The second portion was given to St. Germain des Près by the
-Princess Palatine, who had received it from John Casimir of
-Poland.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are many curious old legends respecting the wood of the
-cross. Sir John Mandeville says it was made of the same tree Eve
-plucked the apple from. When Adam was sick, he told Seth to go to
-the angel that guarded paradise, to send him some oil of mercy to
-anoint his limbs with. Seth went, but the angel would not admit
-him, or give him the oil of mercy. He gave him, however, three
-leaves from the fatal tree, to be put under Adam's tongue as soon
-as he was dead. From these sprang the tree of which the cross was
-made.
-</p>
-<p>
-One of the first portions of the holy cross received in France
-was sent by the Emperor Justin to St. Radegonde. It was adorned
-with gold and precious stones. When it arrived with other relics,
-and a copy of the four Gospels richly ornamented, the archbishop
-of Tours and a great procession of people went out with lights,
-incense, and sound of holy chant to bear them into the city of
-Poitiers, where they were placed in the monastery of the Holy
-Cross founded by St. Radegonde. The great Fortunatus composed in
-honor of the occasion the Vexilla Regis, now a part of the divine
-office. I quote two verses of a fine translation of this
-well-known hymn:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "O tree of beauty, tree of light!
-   O tree with royal purple dight!
-   Elect on whose triumphal breast
-   Those holy limbs should find their rest!
-
-  "On whose dear arms, so widely flung,
-   The weight of this world's ransom hung,
-   The price of human kind to pay,
-   And spoil the spoiler of his prey!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-One pleasant morning I took the cars to visit St. Denis, the old
-burial-place of the kings of France. As Michelet says, "This
-church of tombs is not a sad and pagan necropolis, but glorious
-and triumphant; brilliant with faith and hope; vast and without
-shade, like the soul of the saint who built it; light and airy,
-as if not to weigh on the dead or hinder their spring upward to
-the starry spheres."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_616">{616}</a></span>
-<p>
-Mabillon was at one time the visitor's guide to the tombs of St.
-Denis. I do not know whether I should prefer his learned details
-and sage reflections over the ashes of the illustrious dead, or
-be left as I was to wander alone with my own thoughts through the
-church of the crypts. What a great chapter of history may be read
-in this sepulchre of kings! What a commentary on the text,
-"<i>Dieu seul est grand,</i>" is that stained page of the
-revolution, when the bones of the mighty dead were torn from
-their magnificent tombs and cast into a trench! It was then earth
-to earth and ashes to ashes, like the meanest of us. What a long
-stride may be made here from King Dagobert's tomb at the
-entrance, all sculptured with legendary lore, to the clere-story
-window, all emblazoned with Napoleon's glory; from the recumbent
-Du Guesclin to the tomb of Turenne, and from the chair of St.
-Eloi to the stall of Napoleon III.! A fit place to moralize,
-among these statues of kneeling kings and queens, with their
-hands folded as if they had gone to sleep in prayer.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground,
-   And tell sad stories of the death of kings."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-I sought out the tomb of one of my favorite knights of the middle
-ages&mdash;that of Bertrand du Guesclin, who, by his devotion to his
-country and his prowess, merited a place here among kings and to
-have his ashes mingled with theirs in 1793. There are four of
-these knights of the olden time in this chapel, all in stone,
-lying in armor on their tombs. I sat down at the feet of Du
-Guesclin to read my monographie before going around the church.
-</p>
-<p>
-My visit was in the octave of the festival of St. Denis and his
-companions, and their relics were exposed on an altar covered
-with crimson velvet. Huge wax tapers burned around them, and the
-chancel was hung around with old tapestry after the designs of
-Raphael&mdash;
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Whose glittering tissues bore emblazoned
-   Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love
-   Recorded eminent."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-This church is a monument of the genius and piety of Suger, one
-of the most noble and venerable figures in French history, the
-Abbot of St. Denis, and a statesman. He has been styled "the true
-founder of the Capetian dynasty." He was one of those eminent men
-so often found in the church of the middle ages who were raised
-from obscurity to positions of authority. In his humility, when
-regent of France, he often alluded to his lowly origin, and once
-in the following words: "Recalling in what manner the strong hand
-of God has raised me from the dunghill and made me to sit among
-the princes of the church and of the kingdom."
-</p>
-<p>
-The princes of France used to be educated in the abbey of St.
-Denis, and it was here Louis VI. formed a lasting friendship for
-Suger, which led him afterward to make him his prime minister.
-</p>
-<p>
-The monk Suger was on his way home from Italy in 1122 when he
-heard of his election as abbot of St. Denis. He burst into tears
-through grief for the death of good old abbot Adam, who had cared
-for him in his youth. That very morning he had risen to say
-matins before leaving the hostelry where he lodged, and,
-finishing the office before it was light, he threw himself again
-on his couch to await the day. Falling into a doze, he dreamed he
-was in a skiff on the wide raging sea, at the mercy of the waves,
-and he prayed God to spare and to conduct him into port. He felt,
-on awakening, as if threatened with some great danger, but, as he
-afterward said, he trusted the goodness of God would deliver him
-from it.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_617">{617}</a></span>
-After travelling a few leagues, he met the deputation from St.
-Denis announcing his election as abbot.
-</p>
-<p>
-When Louis le Jeune, with a great number of nobles, decided to go
-to the Holy Land, it was resolved to choose a regent to govern
-the kingdom during his absence. The Holy Spirit was invoked to
-guide the decisions of the nobles and bishops. St. Bernard
-delivered a discourse on the qualities a regent should possess.
-The Count de Nevers and Abbot Suger were chosen. The former
-declined the office, wishing to enter the Carthusian order. Suger
-accepted this office with extreme reluctance, and only at the
-command of the pope. He showed himself an able statesman. St.
-Bernard reproached him for the state in which he lived while at
-court, but he proved his heart was not in such a life by resuming
-all his austerities when he returned to his monastery.
-</p>
-<p>
-He rebuilt the abbey church of St. Denis in a little more than
-three years. He assembled the most skilful workmen and sculptors
-from all parts. But he himself was the chief architect. The very
-people around wished to have a share in the work, believing it
-would draw down on them the blessing of Heaven. They brought him
-marble from Pontoise, and wood from the forest of Chevreuse,
-sixty leagues distant. But he himself selected the trees to be
-cut down. Bishops, nobles, and the king assisted in laying the
-foundations, each one laying a stone while the monks chanted,
-"<i>Fundamenta ejus in montibus sanctis.</i>" While they were
-singing in the course of the service, "<i>Lapides pretiosi omnes
-muri tui,</i>" the king took a ring of great value from his
-finger and threw it on the foundations, and all the nobles
-followed his example.
-</p>
-<p>
-When the church was consecrated, the king and a host of church
-dignitaries were present. Thibaud, Archbishop of Canterbury,
-consecrated the high altar, and twenty other altars were
-consecrated by as many different bishops.
-</p>
-<p>
-Suger had a little cell built near the church for his own use. It
-was fifteen feet long and ten wide. When he built for God his
-ideas were full of grandeur, but for himself nothing was too
-lowly. This little cell beside the magnificent church was a
-continual act of humility before the majesty of the Most High.
-"Whatever is dear and most precious should be made subservient to
-the administration of the thrice holy Eucharist," said he. We
-read how Peter the Venerable, Abbot of Cluny, came to visit St.
-Denis. After admiring the grandeur of the church, they came to
-the cell. "Behold a man who condemns us all!" exclaimed Peter
-with a sigh. The cell had neither tapestry nor curtains. He slept
-on straw, and his table was set with strictest regard to monastic
-severity. He never rode in a carriage, but always on horseback,
-even in old age.
-</p>
-<p>
-When Abbot Suger felt his end approaching, he went, supported by
-two monks, into the chapter room where the whole community was
-assembled, and addressed them in the most solemn and impressive
-manner on the judgments of God. Then he knelt before them all,
-and with tears besought their pardon for all the faults of his
-administration during thirty years. The monks only answered with
-their tears. He laid down his crosier, declaring himself unworthy
-the office of abbot, and begged them to elect his successor, that
-he might have the happiness of dying a simple monk. There is a
-touching letter from St. Bernard written at this time, which
-commences thus:
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_618">{618}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Friar Bernard to his very dear and intimate friend Suger, by
-  the grace of God abbot of St. Denis, wishing him the glory that
-  springs from a good conscience, and the grace which is a gift
-  of God. Fear not, O man of God! to put off the earthly man
-  &mdash;that man of sin which torments, oppresses, persecutes
-  you&mdash;the weight of which sinks you down to earth and drags you
-  almost to the abyss! What have you in part with this mortal
-  frame&mdash;you who are about to be clothed with glorious
-  immortality?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Toward Christmas Suger grew so weak that he rejoiced at the
-prospect of his deliverance, but fearing his death would
-interrupt the festivities of that holy time, he prayed God to
-prolong his life till they were over. His prayer was heard. He
-died on the twelfth of January, having been abbot of St. Denis
-twenty-nine years and ten months, from 1122 to 1152. His tomb
-bore the simple inscription:
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "Cy gist l'Abbé Suger."
-</p>
-<p>
-The charter for the foundation of the abbey of St. Denis was
-given by Clovis. It was written on papyrus, and among others the
-signature of St. Eloi was attached to it. Pepin and Charlemagne
-were great benefactors of the abbey. Pepin was buried before the
-grand portal of the old church with his face down, wishing by his
-prostrate position to atone for the excesses of his father
-Charles Martel. Charlemagne with filial reverence built a porch
-to the church, as a covering over his father's tomb, and that he
-might not lie without the church. In rebuilding it, Suger had the
-porch removed and the body transferred into the interior.
-</p>
-<p>
-The treasury of the abbey was once exceedingly rich. The old
-kings of France left their crowns to it, and on grand festivals
-they were suspended before the high altar. Here were the cross
-and sceptre of Charlemagne, and the crown and ring of the holy
-Louis IX. Philip Augustus gave the abbey in his will all his
-jewels and crosses of gold, desiring twenty monks to say masses
-for his soul. The chess-board and chess-men of Charlemagne were
-kept here for ages. Joubert, the Coleridge of France, says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The pomps and magnificence with which the church is reproached
-  are in truth the result and proof of her incomparable
-  excellence. Whence came, let me ask, this power of hers and
-  these excessive riches, except from the enchantment into which
-  she threw all the world? Ravished with her beauty, millions of
-  men from age to age kept loading her with gifts, bequests, and
-  cessions. She had the talent of making herself loved and the
-  talent of making men happy. It is that which wrought prodigies
-  for her, it is thence she drew her power."
-</p>
-<p>
-Sixty great wax candles used to burn around the high altar of St.
-Denis on great festivals. Dagobert left one hundred livres a year
-to obtain oil for lights, and Pepin allowed six carts to bring it
-all the way from Marseilles without toll.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the middle ages there were fairs near the abbey which lasted
-for a month. Merchants came from Italy, Spain, and all parts of
-Europe, and, to encourage them to be mindful of their souls as
-well as of their purses, indulgences were granted to all who
-visited the church.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-These are a few notes of my saunterings. Each one of these holy
-places, as well as every church in those old lands, has its
-history which is interesting, and its legends that are poetical
-and full of meaning. They would fill volumes. Travelling is like
-eating; what gives pleasure to one only aggravates the bile of
-another. Some only find tyranny in the authority of the church, a
-love of pomp and display in her splendor, and superstition in her
-piety. Thoreau says, "Where an angel treads, it will be paradise
-all the way; but where Satan travels, it will be burning marl and
-cinders."
-</p>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_619">{619}</a></span>
-
-       <h2>Spiritualism and Materialism.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-Professor Huxley, as we saw in a late number of this magazine, in
-the article on <i>The Physical Basis of Life</i>, while rejecting
-spiritualism, gives his opinion that materialism is a
-philosophical error, on the ground of our ignorance of what
-matter is, or is not. There is some truth in the assertion of our
-ignorance of the essence or real nature of matter or material
-existence, though the professor had no logical right to assert
-it, after having adopted a materialistic terminology, and done
-his best to prove the material origin of life, thought, feeling,
-and the various mental phenomena. Yet we are far from regarding
-what is called materialism as the fundamental error of this age,
-nor do we believe that there is any necessary or irrepressible
-antagonism between spirit and matter, either intellectual or
-moral. In our belief, a profound philosophy, though it does not
-identify spirit and matter, shows their dialectic harmony, as
-revelation asserts it in asserting the resurrection of the flesh,
-and the indissoluble reunion of body and soul in the future life.
-</p>
-<p>
-The fundamental error of this age is the denial of creation, and,
-theologically expressed, is, with the vulgar, atheism, and with
-the cultivated and refined, pantheism. Atheism is the denial of
-unity, and pantheism the denial of plurality or diversity, and
-both alike deny creation, and seek to explain the universe by the
-principle of self-generation or self-development. What is really
-denied is God THE CREATOR.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are, no doubt, moral causes that have led in part to this
-denial, but with them we have at present nothing to do. The
-assertion of moral causes is more effective in preventing men
-from abandoning the truth and falling into error than in
-recovering and leading back to the truth those who have lost it,
-or know not where to find it. We lose our labor when we begin our
-efforts, as philosophers, to convert those who are in error by
-assuring them that they have erred only through moral perversity
-or hatred of the true and the good, the just and the holy,
-especially in an age when conscience is fast asleep. We aim at
-convincing, not at convicting, and therefore take up only the
-intellectual causes which lead to the denial of creation. Among
-these causes, we shall, no doubt, find materialism and a
-pseudo-spiritualism both playing their part; but the real causes,
-we apprehend, are in the fact that the philosophic tradition,
-which has come down to us from gentilism, has never been fully
-harmonized with the Christian tradition, which has come down to
-us through the church.
-</p>
-<p>
-Gentilism had lost sight of God the Creator, and confounded
-creation with generation, emanation, or formation. Why the
-gentiles were led into this error would be an interesting chapter
-in the history of the wanderings of the human mind; but we have
-no space at present for the inquiry. It is enough, for our
-present purpose, to establish the fact that the gentiles did fall
-into it. The conception of creation is found in none of the
-heathen mythologies, learned or unlearned, of which we have any
-knowledge; and that they do not recognize a creative God, may be
-inferred from the fact that in them all, so far as known, was
-worshipped, under obscure symbols, the generative forces or
-functions of nature.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_620">{620}</a></span>
-In no gentile philosophy, not even in Plato or Aristotle, do you
-find any conception of God the Creator. Père Gratry, indeed,
-thinks he finds the fact of creation recognized by Plato,
-especially in the <i>Timaeus</i>; but though we have read time
-and again that most important of Plato's dialogues, we have never
-found the fact of creation in it; all we can find in it bearing
-on this point is what Plato, as we understand him, uniformly
-teaches, the identity of the idea with the essence or <i>causa
-essentialis</i> of the thing. As, for instance, the idea of a man
-is the real, essential man himself; and is simply the idea in the
-divine mind, impressed on a preexisting matter, as the seal upon
-wax. God creates neither the idea nor the matter. The idea is
-himself; the matter is eternal. Aristotle does not essentially
-differ from Plato on this point. The individual existence,
-according to him, is composed of matter and form; the form alone
-is substantial, and matter is simply its passive recipient. The
-substantial forms are supplied, but not created by the divine
-intelligence. In no form of heathenism that existed before the
-Christian era have we found any conception of creation. The
-conception or tradition of creation was retained only by the
-patriarchs and the synagogue, and has been restored to the
-converted gentiles by the Christian church alone.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Augustine, and after him the great medieval
-doctors&mdash;especially the greatest of them all, the Angel of the
-schools&mdash;labored assiduously, and up to a certain point
-successfully, to amend the least debased gentile philosophy so as
-to make it harmonize with Christian theology and tradition. They
-took from gentile philosophy the elements it had retained from
-the ancient wisdom, supplied their defects with elements taken
-from the Christian tradition, and formed a really Christian
-philosophy, which still subsists in union with theology.
-</p>
-<p>
-This work of harmonizing faith and philosophy, or, perhaps, more
-correctly, of constructing a philosophy in harmony with faith and
-theology, was nearly, if not quite completed by the great western
-scholastics or medieval doctors; but, unhappily, the East,
-separated from the centre of unity, or holding to it only loosely
-and by fits and starts, did not share in the great intellectual
-movement of the West. It made little or no progress in
-harmonizing gentile philosophy and Christian theology. It
-retained and studied the gentile philosophers, especially of the
-Platonic and Neoplatonic schools; and when the Greek scholars,
-after the taking of Constantinople by the Turks, in 1453, sought
-refuge in the West, they brought with them, not only their
-schism, but their unmitigated gentile philosophy, corrupted the
-western schools, and unsettled to a fearful extent the confidence
-of scholars in the scholastic philosophy. We owe the false
-systems of spiritualism and materialism, of atheism and
-pantheism, to what is called the Revival of Letters in the
-fifteenth century, or the Greek invasion of western Christendom.
-</p>
-<p>
-The scholastics, especially St. Thomas, had transformed the
-peripatetic philosophy into a Christian philosophy; but the other
-Greek schools had remained pagan; and it was precisely these
-other schools, especially the Platonic, and Neoplatonic, or
-Alexandrian eclecticism, that now revived in their
-unchristianized form, and were opposed to the Aristotelian
-philosophy as modified by the schoolmen.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_621">{621}</a></span>
-Some of the early fathers were more inclined to Plato than to
-Aristotle, but none of these, not Clemens Alexandrinus, Origen,
-or even St. Augustine, had harmonized throughout Plato's
-philosophy with Christianity, and we should greatly wrong St.
-Augustine, at least, if we called him a systematic Platonist.
-</p>
-<p>
-With the study of Plato was revived in western Europe a false and
-exaggerated spiritualism, and a philosophy which denied creation
-as a truth of philosophy, and admitted it only as a doctrine of
-revelation. The authority of the scholastic philosophy was
-weakened, a decided tendency in pantheistic direction to thought
-was given, and the way was prepared for Giordano Bruno, as well
-as for the Protestant apostasy. We say <i>apostasy</i>, because
-Luther's movement was really an apostasy, as its historical
-developments have amply proved. With Plato was revived the
-Academy with its scepticism, Sextus Empiricus, and after him
-Epicurus; and before the close of the sixteenth century, Europe
-was overrun with false mystics, sceptics, pantheists, and
-atheists, who abounded all through the seventeenth century, in
-spite of a very decided reaction in favor of faith and the
-church. What is worthy of special note is, that in all this
-period of two centuries and a half it was no uncommon thing to
-find men who, as philosophers, denied the immortality of the
-soul, which as believers they asserted; or combining a childlike
-faith with nearly universal scepticism, as we see in Montaigne.
-</p>
-<p>
-Gradually, however, men began to see that, while they
-acknowledged a discrepancy between what they held as philosophy
-and the Christian faith, they could not retain both; that they
-must give up the one or the other. England, in the latter half of
-the seventeenth century, swarmed with free thinkers who denied
-all divine revelation; and France, in the eighteenth century,
-rejected the church, rejected the Bible, suppressed Christian
-worship, rebuilt the Pantheon, and voted death to be an eternal
-sleep. But the eighteenth century was born of the seventeenth, as
-the seventeenth was born of the sixteenth, as the sixteenth was
-born of the revival of Greek letters and philosophy, thoroughly
-impregnated with paganism, supposed by unthinking men to be the
-most glorious event in modern history, saving, always, Luther's
-Reformation.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the seventeenth century, Descartes undertook to reform and
-reconstruct philosophy after a new method. He undertook to erect
-philosophy into a complete science in the rational order,
-independent of revelation. If he recognized the creative act of
-God, or God as creator, it was as a theologian, not as a
-philosopher; for certainly he does not start with the creative
-act as a first principle, nor does he, nor can he, arrive at it
-by his method. God as creator cannot be deduced from <i>cogito,
-ergo sum;</i> for, without presupposing God as my creator, I
-cannot assert that I exist. Gentilism had so far revived that it
-was able to take possession of philosophy the moment it was
-detached from Christian theology and declared an independent
-science; and as that has no conception of creation, the tradition
-preserved by Jews and Christians was at once relegated from
-philosophy to theologian, from science to faith. Hence we fail to
-find creation recognized as a philosophical truth in the system
-of his disciple Malebranche, a profounder philosopher than
-Descartes himself. The prince of modern sophists, Spinoza,
-adopting as his starting point the definition of substance given
-by Descartes, demonstrates but too easily that there can be only
-one substance, and that there can be no creation, or that nothing
-does or can exist except the one substance and its attributes,
-modes, or affections. Calling the one substance God, he arrived
-at once at pantheism, now so prevalent.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_622">{622}</a></span>
-<p>
-That Descartes felt a difficulty in asserting creation in its
-proper sense, may be inferred from the fact that he always calls
-the soul <i>la pensée</i>, thought; never, if we recollect
-aright, a substance that thinks, which was itself a large stride
-toward pantheism, for pantheism consists precisely in denying all
-substantive existences except the one only substance, which is
-God. Spinoza developed his principles with a logic vastly
-superior to his own, and brought out errors which he probably did
-not foresee. Indeed, we do not pretend that Descartes intended to
-favor or had any suspicion that he was favoring pantheism; but he
-most certainly did not recognize any principle that would enable
-his disciples to oppose it, and in former days, before we knew
-the church, we ourselves found, or thought we found, pantheism
-flowing logically from his premises, and we escaped it only by
-rejecting the Cartesian philosophy.
-</p>
-<p>
-Descartes revived in modern philosophy that antagonism between
-spirit and matter which was unknown to the scholastic philosophy,
-and which renders the mutual commerce of soul and body
-inexplicable. The scholastic doctors had recognized, indeed,
-matter and form; but with them matter was simply possibility,
-existing only <i>in potentia ad formam</i>, and was never
-supposed to be the basis or substratum of any existence whatever.
-The real existence was in the form, the <i>forma</i> or the
-<i>idea</i>. They distinguished, certainly, between corporeal and
-incorporeal existences; but not, as the moderns do, between
-spiritual and material existences, and the question between
-spiritualism and materialism, as we have it to-day, did not and
-could not come up with them. The distinction with them was
-between sensibles and intelligibles, the only distinction that
-philosophy by her own light knows. <i>Spirit</i> was a term very
-nearly restricted to God, and <i>spiritual</i> meant partaking of
-spirit, living according to the spirit; that is, living a godly
-life begotten by the Holy Spirit, as in the inspired writings of
-St. Paul.
-</p>
-<p>
-Even the ancients did not distinguish, in the modern sense,
-between spirit and matter. Their gods were corporeal, but
-ordinarily impassible. The spirit was not a distinct existence,
-but was the universal principle of life, thought, and action, and
-the spirit of man was an emanation from the universal spirit,
-which at death flowed back and was reabsorbed in the ocean from
-which it emanated. Their ghosts were not disembodied spirits, as
-ours are, were not departed spirits, but the umbra or shade&mdash;a
-thin, aerial apparition, bearing the exact resemblance of the
-body, and had formed during life, if I may so speak, its inner
-lining, or the immediate envelope of the spirit. It is the body
-that after death still invests the soul, according to Swedenborg,
-who denies the resurrection of the flesh. According to ancient
-Greek and Roman gentilism it was not spirit, nor body, but
-something between the two. It hovered over and around the dead
-body, and it was to allay it, and enable it to rest in peace that
-the funeral rites or obsequies of the dead were performed, and
-judged to be so indispensable. The Marquis de Mirville, in his
-work on <i>The Fluidity of Spirits</i>, seems to think the umbra
-was not a pure imagination, and is inclined to assert it, and to
-make it the basis of the explanation of many of the so-called
-spirit-phenomena.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_623">{623}</a></span>
-He supposes it is capable of transporting the soul, or of being
-transported by the soul, out of the body, and to a great distance
-from it, and that the body itself will bear the marks of the
-wounds that may be given it. In this way he also explains the
-prodigies of bilocation.
-</p>
-<p>
-But however this may be, the ghost of heathen superstition is
-never the spirit returned to earth, nor is it the spirit that is
-doomed to Tartarus, or that is received into the Elysian Fields,
-the heathen paradise. Hades, which includes both Tartarus and
-Elysium, is a land of shadows, inhabited by shades that are
-neither spirit nor body; for the heathen knew nothing, and
-believed nothing, of the resurrection of the flesh, and the
-reunion of soul and body in a future life. The spirit at death
-returns to its fountain, and the body, dissolved, loses itself in
-the several elements from which it was taken, and only the shade
-or shadow of the living man survives. Even in Elysium, the ghosts
-that sport on the flowery banks of the river, repose in the green
-bowers, or pursue in the fields the mimic games and pastimes that
-they loved, are pale, thin, and shadowy. The whole is a mimic
-scene, if we may trust either Homer or Virgil, and is far less
-real and less attractive than the happy hunting grounds of the
-red men of our continent, to which the good, that is, the brave
-Indian is transported when he dies. The only distinction we find,
-with the heathen, between spirit and matter, is, the distinction
-between the divine substance, or intelligence, and an eternally
-existing matter, as the stuff of which bodies or corporeal
-existences, the only existences recognized, are formed or
-generated.
-</p>
-<p>
-But Descartes distinguished them so broadly that he seemed to
-make them each independent of the other. Why, then, was either
-necessary to the life and activity of the other? And we see in
-Descartes no use that the soul is or can be to the body, or the
-body to the soul. Hence, philosophy, starting from Descartes,
-branched out in two opposite directions, the one toward the
-denial of matter, and the other toward the denial of spirit; or,
-as more commonly expressed, into idealism and materialism, but as
-it would be more proper to say, into intellectism and sensism.
-The spiritualism of Descartes, so far as it had been known in the
-history of philosophy, was only the Neoplatonic mysticism, which
-substitutes the direct and immediate vision, so to speak, of the
-intelligible, for its apprehension through sensible symbols and
-the exercise of the reasoning faculty. From this it was an easy
-step to the denial of an external and material world, as was
-proved by Berkeley, who held the external world to consist simply
-of pictures painted on the retina of the eye by the creative act
-of God; and before him by Collier, who maintained that only mind
-exists. It was an equally short and easy step to take the other
-direction, assert the sufficiency of the corporeal or material,
-and deny the existence of spirit or the incorporeal, since the
-senses take cognizance of the corporeal and the corporeal only.
-Either step was favored by the ancient philosophy revived and set
-up against the scholastic philosophy. It was hardly possible to
-follow out the exaggerated and exclusive spiritualism of the one
-class without running into mystic pantheism, or the independence
-of the corporeal or material, without falling into material
-pantheism or atheism. These two errors, or rather these two
-phases of one and the same error, are the fundamental or mother
-error of this age&mdash;perhaps, in principle, of all ages&mdash;and is
-receiving an able refutation by one of our collaborateurs in the
-essay on Catholicity and Pantheism now in the course of
-publication in this magazine.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_624">{624}</a></span>
-<p>
-It is no part of our purpose now to refute this error; we have
-traced it from gentilism, shown that it is essentially pagan, and
-owes its prevalence in the modern world to the revival of Greek
-letters and philosophy in the fifteenth century, the discredit
-into which the study of Plato and the Neoplatonists threw the
-scholastic philosophy, and especially to the divorce of
-philosophy from theology, declared by Descartes in the
-seventeenth century. Yet we do not accept either exclusive
-materialism or exclusive spiritualism, and the question itself
-hardly has place in our philosophy, as it hardly had place in
-that of St. Thomas. It became a question only when philosophy was
-detached from theology, of which it forms the rational as
-distinguishable but not separable from the revealed element, and
-reduced to a mere <i>Wissenchaftslehre</i>, or rather a simple
-methodology. True philosophy joined with theology is the response
-to the question, What is, or exists? What are the principles and
-causes of things? What are our relations to those principles and
-causes? What is the law under which we are placed? and what are
-the means and conditions within our reach, natural or gracious,
-of fulfilling our destiny, or of attaining to our supreme good?
-Not a response to the question, for the most part an idle
-question, How do we know, or how do we know that we know?
-</p>
-<p>
-Many of the most difficult problems for philosophers, and which
-we confess our inability to solve, may be eluded by a flank
-movement, to use a military phrase. Such is the question of the
-origin of ideas, of certitude, and the passage from the
-subjective to the objective, and this very question of
-spiritualism and materialism. All these are problems which no
-philosopher yet has solved from the point of view of exclusive
-psychology, or of exclusive ontology, or of any philosophy that
-leaves them to be asked. But we are much mistaken if they do not
-cease to be problems at all, when one starts with the principles
-of things, or if they do not solve themselves. We do not find
-them, in the modern sense, raised by Plato or Aristotle, nor by
-St. Augustine or St. Thomas. When we have the right stand-point,
-if Mr. Richard Grant White will allow us the term, and see things
-from the point of view of the real order, these problems do not
-present themselves, and are wholly superseded. Professor Huxley
-is right enough when he tells us that we know the nature and
-essence neither of spirit nor of matter. I know from revelation
-that there is a spirit in man, and that the inspiration of the
-Almighty giveth him understanding, but I know neither by
-revelation nor by reason what spirit is. God is a spirit; but if
-man is a spirit, it must be in a very different sense from that
-in which God is a spirit. Although the human spirit may have a
-certain likeness to the Divine spirit, it yet cannot be divine,
-for it is created; and they who call it divine, a spark of
-divinity, or a particle of God, either do not mean, or do not
-<i>know</i> what they literally assert. They only repeat the old
-gentile doctrine of the substantial identity of the spirit with
-divinity, from whom it emanates, and to whom it returns, to be
-reabsorbed in him&mdash;a pantheistic conception. All we can say of
-spiritual existences is, that they are incorporeal intelligences;
-and all we can say of man is, that he has both a corporeal and an
-incorporeal nature; and perhaps without revelation we should be
-able to say not even so much.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_625">{625}</a></span>
-<p>
-We know, again, just as little of matter. What is matter? Who can
-answer? Nay, what is body? Who can tell? Body, we are told, is
-composed of material elements. Be it so. What are those elements?
-Into what is matter resolvable in the last analysis? Into
-indestructible and indissoluble atoms, says Epicurus; into
-entelecheia, or self-acting forces, says Aristotle; into
-extension, says Descartes; into monads, each acting from its
-centre, and representing the entire universe from its own point
-of view, says Leibnitz; into centres of attraction and
-gravitation, says Father Boscovich; into pictures painted on the
-retina of the eye by the Creator, says Berkeley, the Protestant
-bishop of Cloyne, and so on. We may ask and ask, but can get no
-final answer.
-</p>
-<p>
-Take, instead of matter, an organic body; who can tell us what it
-is? It is extended, occupies space, say the Cartesians. But is
-this certain? Leibnitz disputes it, and it is not easy to attach
-any precise meaning to the assertion "it occupies space," if we
-have any just notion of space and time, the <i>pons asinorum</i>
-of psychologists. What is called actual or real space is the
-relation of co-existence of creatures; and is simply nothing
-abstracted from the related. It would be a great convenience if
-philosophers would learn that nothing is nothing, and that only
-God can create something from nothing. Space being nothing but
-relation, to say of a thing that it occupies space, is only
-saying that it exists, and exists in a certain relation to other
-objects. This relation may be either sensible or intelligible; it
-is sensible, or what is called sensible space, when the objects
-related are sensible. Extension is neither the essence nor a
-property of matter, but the sensible relation of an object either
-to some other objects or to our sensible perception. It is, as
-Leibnitz very well shows, only the relation of continuity. Whirl
-a wheel with great force and rapidity, and you will be unable to
-distinguish its several spokes, and it will seem to be all of one
-continuous and solid piece. Intelligible space as distinguished
-from sensible space is the logical relation of things, or, as
-more commonly called, the relation of cause and effect. When we
-conform our notions of space to the real order, and understand
-that the sensible simply copies, imitates, or symbolizes the
-intelligible, we shall see that we have no authority for saying
-extension is even a property of body or of matter.
-</p>
-<p>
-That extension is simply the sensible relation of body, not its
-essence, nor even a property of matter, is evident from what
-physiologists tell us of organic or living bodies. There can be
-no reasonable doubt that the body I now have is the same
-identical body with which I was born, and yet it contains,
-probably, not a single molecule or particle of sensible matter it
-originally had. As I am an old man, all the particles or
-molecules of my body have probably been changed some ten or
-twenty times over; yet my body remains unchanged. It is evident,
-then, since the molecular changes do not affect its identity,
-that those particles or molecules of matter which my body
-assimilates from the food I take to repair the waste that is
-constantly going on, or to supply the loss of those particles or
-molecules constantly exuded or thrown off, do not compose, make
-up, or constitute the real body. This fact is commended to the
-consideration of those learned men, like the late Professor
-George Bush, who deny the resurrection of the body, on the ground
-that these molecular changes which have been going on during life
-render it a physical impossibility. This fact also may have some
-bearing on the Catholic mystery of Transubstantiation.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_626">{626}</a></span>
-St. Augustine distinguishes between the visible body and the
-intelligible body&mdash;the body that is seen and the body that is
-understood&mdash;and tells us that it is the intelligible, or, as he
-sometimes says, the spiritual, not the visible or sensible, body
-of our Lord that is present in the Blessed Eucharist. In fact,
-there is no change in the sensible body of the bread and the
-wine, in Transubstantiation. The sensible body remains the same
-after consecration that it was before. The change is in the
-essence or substance, or the intelligible body, and hence the
-appropriateness of the term <i>transubstantiation</i> to express
-the change which takes place at the words of consecration. Only
-the intelligible body, that is, what is non-sensible in the
-elements bread and wine, is transubstantiated, and yet their real
-body is changed, and the real body of our Lord takes its place.
-The nonsensible or invisible body, the intelligible body, is
-then, in either case, assumed by the sacred mystery to be the
-real body; and hence, supposing us right in our assumption that
-our body remains always the same in spite of the molecular
-changes&mdash;which was evidently the doctrine of St. Augustine&mdash;there
-is nothing in science or the profoundest philosophy to show that
-either transubstantiation or the resurrection of the flesh is
-impossible, or that God may not effect either consistently with
-his own immutable nature, if he sees proper to do it. Nothing
-aids the philosopher so much as the study of the great doctrines
-and mysteries of Christianity, as held and taught by the church.
-</p>
-<p>
-The distinction between seeing and intellectually apprehending,
-and therefore between the visible body and the intelligible body,
-asserted and always carefully observed by St. Augustine when
-treating of the Blessed Eucharist, belongs to a profounder
-philosophy than is now generally cultivated. Our prevailing
-philosophy, especially outside of the church, recognizes no such
-distinction. It is true, we are told, that the senses perceive
-only the sensible properties or qualities of things; that they
-never perceive the essence or substance; but then the essence or
-substance is supposed to be a mere abstraction with no
-intelligible properties or qualities, or a mere substratum of
-sensible properties and qualities. The sensible exhausts it, and
-beyond what the senses proclaim the substance has no quality or
-property, and is and can be the subject of no predicate. This is
-a great mistake. The sensible properties and qualities are real,
-that is, are not false or illusory; but they are real only in the
-sensible order, or the <i>mimesis</i>, as Gioberti, after Plato
-and some of the Greek fathers, calls it in his posthumous works.
-The intelligible substance is the thing itself, and has its own
-intelligible properties and qualities, which the sensible only
-copies, imitates, or mimics. All through nature there runs, above
-the sensible, the intelligible, in which is the highest created
-reality, with its own attributes and qualities, which must be
-known before we can claim to know anything as it really is or
-exists. We do not know this in the case of body or matter; we do
-not and cannot know what either really is, and can really know of
-either only its sensible properties.
-</p>
-<p>
-We know that if matter exists at all, it must have an essence or
-substance; but what the substance really is human science has not
-learned and cannot learn. We really know, then, of matter in
-itself no more than we do of spirit, except that matter has its
-sensible copy, which spirit has not.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_627">{627}</a></span>
-Matter, as to its substance, is supersensible, and as to the
-essence or nature of its substance is superintelligible, as is
-spirit; and we only know that it has a substance; and of
-substance itself, we can only say, if it exists, it is a <i>vis
-activa</i>, as opposed to <i>nuda potentia</i>, which is a mere
-possibility, and no existence at all. Such being the case, we
-agree with Professor Huxley, that neither spiritualism nor
-materialism is, in his sense, admissible, and that each is a
-philosophical error, or, at least, an unprovable hypothesis.
-</p>
-<p>
-But here our agreement ends and our divergence begins. The Holy
-See has required the traditionalists to maintain that the
-existence of God, the immateriality of the soul, and the liberty
-of man can be proved with certainty by reason. We have always
-found the definitions of the church our best guide in the study
-of philosophy, and that we can never run athwart her teaching
-without finding ourselves at odds with reason and truth. We are
-always sure that when our theology is unsound our philosophy will
-be bad. There is a distinction already noted between spirit and
-matter, which is decisive of the whole question, as far as it is
-a question at all. Matter has, and spirit has not, sensible
-properties or qualities. These sensible properties or qualities
-do not constitute the essence or substance of matter, which we
-have seen is not sensible, but they distinguish it from spirit,
-which is non-sensible. This difference, in regard to sensible
-qualities and properties, proves that there must be a difference
-of substance, that the material substance and the immaterial
-substance are not, and cannot be one and the same substance,
-although we know not what is the essence or nature of either.
-</p>
-<p>
-We take matter here in the sense of that which has properties or
-qualities perceptible by the senses, and spirit or spiritual
-substance as an existence that has no such properties or
-qualities. The Holy See says the <i>immateriality</i>, not
-<i>spirituality</i>, of the soul, is to be proved by reason. The
-spirituality of the soul, except in the sense of immateriality,
-cannot be proved or known by philosophy, but is simply a doctrine
-of divine revelation, and is known only by that analogical
-knowledge called faith. All that we can prove or assert by
-natural reason, is, that the soul is immaterial, or not material
-in the sense that matter has for its sign the mimesis, or
-sensible properties or qualities. We repeat, the sensible is not
-the material substance, but is its natural sign. So that, where
-the sign is wanting, we know the substance is not present and
-active. On the other hand, where there is a force undeniably
-present and operating without the sign, we know at once that it
-is an immaterial force or substance.
-</p>
-<p>
-That the soul is not material, therefore is an immaterial
-substance, we know; because it has none of the sensible signs or
-properties of matter. We cannot see, hear, touch, smell, nor
-taste it. The very facts materialists allege to prove it
-material, prove conclusively, that, if anything, it is
-immaterial. The soul has none of the attributes or qualities that
-are included, and has others which evidently are not included, in
-the definition of matter. Matter, as to its substance, is a
-<i>vis activa</i>, for whatever exists at all is an active force;
-but it is not a force or substance that thinks, feels, wills, or
-reasons. It has no sensibility, no mind, no intelligence, no
-heart, no soul. But animals have sensibility and intelligence;
-have they immaterial souls? Why not? We have no serious
-difficulty in admitting that animals have souls, only not
-rational and immortal souls.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_628">{628}</a></span>
-Soul, in them, is not spirit, but it may be immaterial. Indeed,
-we can go further, and concede an immaterial soul, not only to
-animals but to plants, though, of course, not an intelligent or
-even a sensitive soul; for if plants, or at least some plants,
-are contractile and slightly mimic sensibility in animals,
-nothing proves that they are sensitive. We have no proof that any
-living organism, vegetable, animal, or human, is or can be a
-purely material product. Professor Huxley has completely failed,
-as we have shown, in his effort to sustain his theory of a
-physical or material basis of life, and physiologists profess to
-have demonstrated by their experiments and discoveries that no
-organism can originate in inorganic matter, or in any possible
-mechanical, chemical, or electrical arrangement of material
-atoms, and is and can be produced, unless by direct and immediate
-creation of God, only by generation from a preexisting male and
-female organism. This is true alike of plants, animals, and man.
-Nothing hinders you, then, from calling, if you so wish, the
-universal basis of life <i>anima</i> or soul, and asserting, the
-psychical basis, in opposition to Professor Huxley's physical
-basis, of life; only you must take care and not assert that
-plants and animals have human souls, or that soul in them is the
-same that it is in man.
-</p>
-<p>
-There are grave thinkers who are not satisfied with the doctrine
-that ascribes the apparent and even striking marks of mind in
-animals to instinct, a term which serves to cover our ignorance,
-but tells us nothing; still less are they satisfied with the
-Cartesian doctrine that the animal is simply a piece of mechanism
-moved or moving only by mechanical springs and wheels like a
-clock or watch. Theologians are reluctant chiefly, we suppose, to
-admit that animals have souls, because they are accustomed to
-regard all souls, as to their substance, the same, and because it
-has seemed to them that the admission would bring animals too
-near to men, and not preserve the essential difference between
-the animal nature and the human. But we see no difficulty in
-admitting as many different sorts or orders of souls as there are
-different orders, genera, and species of living organisms. God is
-spirit, and the angels are spirits; are the angels therefore
-identical in substance with God? The human soul is spiritual; is
-there no difference in substance between human souls and angels?
-We know that men sometimes speak of a departed wife, child, or
-friend as being now an angel in heaven; but they are not to be
-understand literally, any more than the young man in love with a
-charming young lady who does not absolutely refuse his addresses,
-when he calls her&mdash;a sinful mortal, not unlikely&mdash;an angel. In
-the resurrection men are <i>like</i> the angels of God, in the
-respect that they neither marry nor are given in marriage; but
-the spirits of the just made perfect, that stand before the
-throne, are not angels; they are still human in their nature. If,
-then, we may admit spirits of different nature and substance, why
-not souls, and, therefore, vegetable souls, animal souls, and
-human souls, agreeing only in the fact that they are immaterial,
-or not material substances or forces?
-</p>
-<p>
-It perhaps may be thought that to admit different orders of souls
-to correspond to the different orders, genera, and species of
-organisms, would imply that the human soul is generated with the
-body; contrary to the general doctrine of theologians, that the
-soul is created immediately <i>ad hoc</i>.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_629">{629}</a></span>
-The Holy See censured Professor Frohshamer's doctrine on the
-subject; but the point condemned was, as we understand it, that
-the professor claimed <i>creative</i> power for man. But it is
-not necessary to suppose, even if plants and animals have souls,
-that the human soul is generated with the body, in any sense
-inconsistent with faith. The church has defined that "anima est
-forma corporis," that is, as we understand it, the soul is the
-vital or informing principle, the life of the body, without which
-the body is dead matter. The organism generated is a living not a
-dead organism, and therefore if the soul is directly and
-immediately created <i>ad hoc</i>, the creative act must be
-consentaneous with the act of generation, a fact which demands a
-serious modification of the medical jurisprudence now taught in
-our medical schools. Some have asserted for man alone a vegetable
-soul, an animal soul, and a spiritual soul, but this is
-inadmissible; man has simply a human soul, though capable of
-yielding to the grovelling demands of the flesh as well as to the
-higher promptings of the spirit.
-</p>
-<p>
-But we have suffered ourselves to be drawn nearer to the borders
-of the land of impenetrable mysteries than we intended, and we
-retrace our steps as hastily as possible. Our readers will
-understand that what we have said of the souls of plants and
-animals is said only as a possible concession, but not set forth
-as a doctrine we do or design to maintain; for it lies too near
-the province of revelation to be settled by philosophy. All we
-mean is that we see on the part of reason no serious objection to
-it. Perhaps it may be thought that we lose, by the concession,
-the argument for the immortality of the soul drawn from its
-simplicity; but, even if so, we are not deprived of other, and to
-our mind, much stronger arguments. But it may be said all our
-talk about souls is wide of the mark, for we have not yet proved
-that man is or has a soul distinguishable from the body, and
-which does or can survive its dissolution, and that our argument
-only proves that, if a man has a soul, it is immaterial. The
-materialist denies that there is any soul in man distinct from
-the body, and maintains that the mental phenomena, which we
-ascribe to an immaterial soul, are the effects of material
-organization. But that is for him to prove, not for us to
-disprove. Organization can give to matter no new properties or
-qualities, as aggregation can give only the sum of the
-individuals aggregated. Matter we have taken all along, as all
-the world takes it, as a substance that has properties and
-qualities perceptible by the senses, and it has no meaning except
-so far as so perceptible. Any active force that has no mimesis or
-sensible qualities, properties, or attributes, is an immaterial,
-not a material substance. That man is or has an active force that
-feels, thinks, reasons, wills, we know as well as we know
-anything; indeed, better than we know anything else. These acts
-or operations are not operations of a material substance. We know
-that they are not, from the fact that they are not sensible
-properties or qualities, and therefore there must be in man an
-active force or substance that is not material, but immaterial.
-Material substance is, we grant, a <i>vis activa</i>; but if it
-has properties or qualities, it has no faculties. It acts, but it
-acts only <i>ad finem</i>, or to an end, never <i>propter
-finem</i>, or for an end foreseen and deliberately willed or
-chosen. But the force that man has or is, has faculties, not
-simply properties or qualities, and can and does act
-deliberately, with foresight and choice, for an end. Hence, it is
-not and cannot be a substance included in the definition of
-matter.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_630">{630}</a></span>
-<p>
-That this immaterial soul, now united to body and active only in
-union with matter, survives the dissolution of the body and is
-immortal, is another question, and is not proved, in our
-judgment, by proving its immateriality. There is an important
-text in Ecclesiastes, 3:21, which would seem to have some bearing
-on the assumption that the immortality of the soul is really a
-truth of philosophy as well as of revelation.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Who knoweth if the spirit of the children of Adam ascend
-  upward, and if the spirit of the beasts descend downward?"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The doubt is not as to the immortality of the soul, but as to the
-ability of reason without revelation to demonstrate it.
-Certainly, reason can demonstrate its possibility, and that
-nothing warrants its denial. The doctrine, in some form, has
-always been believed by the human race, whether savage or
-civilized, barbarous or refined, and has been denied only by
-exceptional individuals in exceptional epochs. This proves either
-that it is a dictate of universal reason, or a doctrine of a
-revelation made to man in the beginning, before the dispersion of
-the human race commenced. In either case the reason for believing
-the doctrine would be sufficient; but we are disposed to take the
-latter alternative, and to hold that the belief in the
-immortality of the soul, or of an existence after death,
-originated in revelation made to our first parents, and has been
-perpetuated and diffused by tradition, pure and integral with the
-patriarchs, the synagogue, and the church; but mutilated,
-corrupted, and travestied with the cultivated as well as with the
-uncultivated heathen. With the heathen Satan played his pranks
-with the tradition, as he is doing with it with the spiritists in
-our own times.
-</p>
-<p>
-But if the belief originated in revelation and is a doctrine of
-faith rather than of science, yet is it not repugnant to science,
-and reason has much to urge in its support. The immateriality of
-the soul implies its unity and simplicity, and therefore it can
-not undergo dissolution, which is the death of the body. Its
-dissolution is impossible, because it is a monad, having
-attributes and qualities, but not made up by the combination of
-parts. It is the form of the body, that is, it vivifies the
-organic or central cell, and gives to the organism its life,
-instead of drawing its own life from it. Science, then, has
-nothing from which to infer that it ceases to exist when the body
-dies. The death of the body does not necessarily imply its
-destruction. True, we have here only negative proofs, but
-negative proofs are all that is needed, in the case of a doctrine
-of tradition, to satisfy the most exacting reason. The soul may
-be extinguished with the body, but we cannot say that it is
-without proof. Left to our unassisted reason, we could not say
-that the soul of the animal expires with its body. Indeed, the
-Indian does not believe it, and therefore buries with the hunter
-his favorite dog, to accompany him in the happy hunting grounds.
-</p>
-<p>
-The real matter to be proved is not that the soul can or does
-survive the body, but that it dies with the body. We have seen
-that it is distinguishable from the body, does not draw its life
-from the body, but imparts life to it; how then conclude that it
-dies with it? We have not a particle of proof, and not a single
-fact from which we can logically infer that it does so die. What
-right then has any one to say that it does? The laboring oar is
-in the hands of those who assert that the soul dies with the
-body, and it is for them to prove what they assert, not for us to
-disprove it.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_631">{631}</a></span>
-The real affirmative in the case is not made by those who assert
-the immortality of the soul, but by those who assert its
-mortality. The very term <i>immortal</i> is negative, and simply
-denies mortality. Life is always presumptive of the continuance
-of life, and the continuance of the life of the soul must be
-presumed in the absence of all proofs of its death.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have seen that the immateriality, unity, and simplicity of the
-soul prove that it does not necessarily die with the body, but
-that it <i>may</i> survive it. The fact that God has written his
-promise of a future life in the very nature and destiny of the
-soul, is for us a sufficient proof that the soul does not die
-with the body. That God is, and is the first and final cause of
-all existences, is a truth of science as well as of revelation.
-He has created all things by himself, and for himself. He then
-must be their last end, and therefore their supreme good,
-according to their several natures. He has created man with a
-nature that nothing short of the possession of himself as his
-supreme good can satisfy. In so creating man, he promises him in
-his nature the realization of this good, that is, the possession
-of himself as final cause, unless forfeited and rendered
-impossible by man's own fault. To return to God as his supreme
-good without being absorbed in him, is man's destiny promised in
-his very constitution. But this destiny is not realized nor
-realizable in this life, and therefore there must be another life
-to fulfil what he promises, for no promise of God, however made,
-can fail. This argument we regard as conclusive.
-</p>
-<p>
-The resurrection of the flesh, the reunion of the soul and body,
-future happiness as a reward of virtue, and the misery of those
-who through their own fault fail of their destiny, as a
-punishment for sin, etc., are matters of revelation or theology
-as distinguished from philosophy, and do not require to be
-treated here, any further than to say, if reason has little to
-say for them, it has nothing to say against them. They belong to
-the mysteries of faith which, though never contrary to reason,
-are above it, in an order transcending its domain.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have thus far treated spiritualism and materialism from the
-point of view of philosophy, not from that of psychology, or of
-our faculties. The two doctrines, as they prevail to-day, are
-simply psychological doctrines. The partisans of the one say that
-the soul has no faculty of knowing any but material objects, and
-therefore assert materialism; the partisans of the other say that
-the soul has a faculty by which she apprehends immediately
-immaterial or spiritual objects or truths, and hence they assert
-what goes by the name of spiritualism, which may or may not deny
-the existence of matter. Descartes and Cousin assert the
-cognition of both spirit and matter, but as independent each of
-the other; Collier and Berkeley deny that we have any cognition
-of matter, and therefore deny its existence, save in the mind.
-The truth, we hold, lies with neither. The soul has no direct
-intuition of the immaterial or intelligible. We use
-<i>intuition</i> here in the ordinary sense, as an act of the
-soul&mdash;knowing by looking on, or immediately beholding; that is,
-in the sense of intelligible as distinguished from sensible
-perceptions&mdash;intellection, as some say, as distinguished from
-sensation. This empirical intuition, as we call it, is very
-distinct from that intuition <i>a priori</i> by which the ideal
-formula is affirmed, for that is the act of the divine Being
-himself, creating the mind, and becoming himself the light
-thereof.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_632">{632}</a></span>
-But that constitutes the mind, and is its object, not its act. No
-doubt, the intellectual principles of all reality and of all
-science are affirmed in that intuition <i>a priori</i>, and hence
-these principles are ever present to the soul as the basis of all
-intelligible as well as of all sensible experience. Yet they are
-asserted by the mind's own act only as sensibly represented,
-according to the peripatetic maxim, "Nihil est in intellectu,
-quod non prius fuerit in sensu." The mind has three faculties,
-sensibility, intellect, and will, but it is itself one, a single
-<i>vis</i> or force, and never acts with one faculty alone,
-whether it feels, thinks, or wills; and, united as it is in this
-life with the body, it never acts as body alone or as spirit
-alone. There are then no intellections without sensation, nor
-sensations without intellection; purely noetic truth, therefore,
-can never be grasped save through a sensible medium.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have already explained this with regard to material objects,
-in which the substance, though supersensible, has its sensible
-sign, through which the mind reaches it. But immaterial or ideal
-objects are, as we have seen, precisely those which have no
-sensible sign of their own&mdash;properties or qualities perceptible
-by the senses. For this order of truth the only sensible
-representation is language, which is the sensible sign or symbol
-of immaterial or ideal truth. We arrive at this order of reality
-or truth only through the medium of language which embodies it;
-that is to say, only through the medium of tradition, or of a
-teacher. So far we accord with the traditionalists. We do not
-believe that, if God had left men in the beginning without any
-instruction or language in which the ideas are embodied, they
-would ever have been able to assert the existence of God, the
-immateriality of the soul, and the liberty or free will of
-man&mdash;the three great ideal truths which the Holy See requires us
-to maintain can be <i>proved</i> with certainty by reason; and we
-do not hold that, like the revealed mysteries, they are
-suprarational truth, and to be taken only on the authority of a
-supernatural revelation. If God had not infused the knowledge of
-them into the first of the race along with language, which he
-also infused into Adam, we should never by our reason and
-instincts alone have found them out, or distinctly apprehended
-them; but being taught them, or finding them expressed in
-language, we are able to verify or prove them with certainty by
-our natural reason, in which respect we accord with those whom
-the traditionalists call rationalists.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have studiously avoided, as far as possible, the metaphysics
-of the subject we have been considering, and perhaps have, in
-consequence, kept too near its surface; but we think we have
-established our main point, that neither spiritualism nor
-materialism, taken exclusively, is philosophically defensible. We
-are able to distinguish between spirit and matter, but we can
-deny the existence or the activity, according to its own nature,
-of neither. We know matter by its sensible properties or
-qualities, We know spirit only as sensibly represented by
-language. Let language be corrupted, and our knowledge of ideal
-or non-sensible truth, or philosophy, will also be corrupted,
-mutilated, or perverted. This will be still more the case with
-the superintelligible truth supernaturally revealed, which is
-apprehensible only through the medium of language. Hence, St.
-Paul is careful to admonish St. Timothy to hold fast "the form of
-sound words," and hence, too, the necessity, if God makes us a
-revelation of spiritual things, that he should provide an
-infallible living teacher to preserve the infallibility of the
-language in which it is made.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_633">{633}</a></span>
-We may see here, too, the reason why the infallible church is
-hardly less necessary to the philosopher than to the theologian.
-Where faith and theology are preserved in their purity and
-integrity, philosophy will not be able to stray far from the
-truth, and where philosophy is sound, the sciences will not long
-be unsound. The aberrations of philosophy are due almost solely
-to the neglect of philosophers to study it in its relation with
-the dogmatic teaching of the church.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some of our dear and revered friends in France and elsewhere are
-seeking, as the cure for the materialism which is now so
-prevalent, to revive the spiritualism of the seventeenth century.
-But the materialism they combat is only the reaction of the mind
-against that exaggerated spiritualism which they would revive.
-Where there are two real forces, each equally evident and equally
-indestructible, you can only alternate between them, till you
-find the term of their synthesis, and are able to reconcile and
-harmonize them. The spiritualism defended by Cousin in France has
-resulted only in the recrudescence of materialism. The trouble
-now is, that matter and spirit are presented in our modern
-systems as antagonistic and naturally irreconcilable forces. The
-duty of philosophers is not to labor to pit one against the
-other, or to give the one the victory over the other; but to save
-both, and to find out the middle term which unites them. We know
-there must be somewhere that middle term; for both extremes are
-creations of God, who makes all things by number, weight, and
-measure, and creates always after the logic of his own essential
-nature. All his works, then, must be logical and dialectically
-harmonious.
-</p>
-<p>
-Whether we have indicated this middle term or not, we have
-clearly shown, we think, that it is a mistake to suppose the two
-terms are not in reality mutually irreconcilable. Nothing proves
-that, as creatures of God, each in its own order and place is not
-as sacred and necessary as the other. We do not know the nature
-or essence of either, nor can we say in what, as to this nature
-and essence, the precise difference between them consists; but we
-know that in our present life both are united, and that neither
-acts without the other. All true philosophy must then present
-them not as opposing, but as harmonious and concurring forces.
-</p>
-<p>
-We do not for ourselves ever apply the term spiritualism to a
-purely intellectual philosophy. We do not regard the words spirit
-and soul as precisely synonymous. St. Paul, Heb. iv. 12, says,
-"The word of God is living and effectual, &hellip; reaching unto the
-division of the soul and the spirit," or, as the Protestant
-version has it, "quick and powerful, &hellip; piercing even to the
-dividing asunder of soul and spirit." There is evidently, then,
-however closely related they may be, a distinction between the
-soul and the spirit. Hence there may be soul that is not spirit,
-which was generally held by the ancients. The Greeks had their
-<img class="txtimg" alt="[Greek text]" src="images/633.jpg">,
-and the Latins their <i>anima</i>
-and <i>spiritus</i>. The term spirit, when applied to man, seems
-to us to designate the moral powers rather than the intellectual,
-and the moral powers or faculties are those which specially
-distinguish man from animals. St. Paul applies the term spiritual
-uniformly in a moral sense, and usually, if not always, to men
-born again of the Holy Ghost, or the regenerated, and to the
-influences and gifts of the Holy Spirit; that is, to designate
-the supernatural character, gifts, graces, and virtues of those
-who have been translated into the kingdom of God and are
-fellow-citizens of the commonwealth of Christ, or the Christian
-republic.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_634">{634}</a></span>
-Hence, we shrink from calling any intellectual philosophy
-spiritualism. If it touches philosophy, as it undoubtedly
-does&mdash;since grace supposes nature, and a man must be born into
-the natural order before he can be born again into the
-supernatural order, or regenerated by the Spirit&mdash;it rises into
-the region of supernatural sanctity, into which no man by his
-natural powers can enter; for it is a sanctity that places one on
-the plane of a supernatural destiny.
-</p>
-<p>
-But even taken in this higher sense, there is no antagonism
-between spirit and matter. There is certainly a struggle, a
-warfare that remains through life; but the struggle is not
-between the soul and the body; it is, as is said, between the
-higher and inferior powers of the soul, between the spirit and
-concupiscence, between the law of the mind, which bids us labor
-for spiritual good which will last for ever, and the law in the
-members, which looks only to the good of the body, in its earthly
-relations. The saints, who chastise, mortify, macerate the body
-by their fastings, vigils, and scourgings, do not do it on the
-principle that the body is evil, or that matter is the source of
-evil. There is a total difference in principle between Christian
-asceticism and that of the Platonists, who hold that evil
-originates in the intractableness of matter, that holds the soul
-imprisoned as in a dungeon, and from which it sighs and struggles
-for deliverance. The Christian knows that our Lord himself
-assumed flesh and retains for ever his glorified body. He
-believes in the resurrection of the body and its future
-everlasting reunion with the soul. Christ, dying in a material
-body, has redeemed both matter and spirit. Hence we venerate the
-relics of our Lord and his saints, and believe matter may be
-hallowed. In our Lord all opposites are reconciled, and universal
-peace is established.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-     <h3>Translated From The German Of
-        Conrad Von Bolanden.</h3>
-
-             <h2>Angela.</h2>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-            Chapter I.
-<br>
-	       Crinoline.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-An express train was just on the eve of leaving the railway
-station in Munich. Two fashionably dressed gentlemen stood at the
-open door of a railway carriage, in conversation with a third,
-who sat within. These two young men bore on their features the
-marks of youthful dissipation, indicating that they had not been
-sparing of pleasures. The one in the carriage had a handsome,
-florid countenance, two clear, expressive eyes, and thick locks
-of hair, which he now and then stroked back from his fine
-forehead. He scarcely observed the conversation of the two
-friends, who spoke of balls, dogs, horses, theatres, and
-ballet-girls.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the same carriage sat another traveller, evidently the father
-of the young man. He was reading the newspaper&mdash;that is, the
-report of the money market&mdash;while his fleshy left hand dallied
-with the heavy gold rings of his watch-chain. He had paid no
-attention to the conversation till an observation of his son
-brought him to serious reflection.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_635">{635}</a></span>
-<p>
-"By the by," said one of the young men quickly, "I was nearly
-forgetting to tell you the news, Richard! Do you know that Baron
-Linden is engaged?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Engaged? To whom?" said Richard carelessly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"To Bertha von Harburg. I received a card this morning, and
-immediately wrote a famous letter of congratulation."
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard looked down earnestly and shook his head.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I commiserate the genial baron," said he. "What could he be
-thinking of, to rush headlong into this misfortune?"
-</p>
-<p>
-The father looked in surprise at his son; the hand holding the
-paper sank on his knee.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Permit me, gentlemen," said the conductor; the doors were
-closed, the friends nodded good-by, and the train moved off.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your observation about Linden's marriage astonishes me, Richard.
-But perhaps you were only jesting."
-</p>
-<p>
-"By no means," said Richard. "Never more earnest in my life. I
-expressed my conviction, and my conviction is the result of
-careful observation and mature reflection."
-</p>
-<p>
-The father's astonishment increased.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Observation&mdash;reflection&mdash;-fudge!" said the father impatiently,
-as he folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket. "How can a
-young man of twenty-two talk of experience and observation!
-Enthusiastic nonsense! Marriage is a necessity of human life. And
-you will yet submit to this necessity."
-</p>
-<p>
-"True, if marriage be a necessity, then I suppose I must bow to
-the yoke of destiny. But, father, this necessity does not exist.
-There are intelligent men enough who do not bind themselves to
-woman's caprices."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! certainly, there are some strange screech-owls in the
-worlds&mdash;some enthusiasts. But certainly you do not wish to be one
-of them. You, who have such great expectations. You, the only son
-of a wealthy house. You, who have a yearly income of thousands to
-spend."
-</p>
-<p>
-"The income can be enjoyed more pleasantly, free and single,
-father."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Free and single&mdash;and enjoyed! Zounds! you almost tempt me to
-think ill of you. Happily, I know you well. I know your strict
-morality, your solidity, your moderate pretensions. All these
-amiable qualities please me. But this view of marriage I did not
-expect; you must put away this sickly notion."
-</p>
-<p>
-The young man made no answer, but leaned back in his seat with a
-disdainful smile.
-</p>
-<p>
-Herr Frank gazed thoughtfully through the window. He reflected on
-the determined character of his son, whose disposition, even when
-a child, shut him out from the world, and who led an interior,
-meditative life. Strict regularity and exact employment of time
-were natural to him. At school, he held the first place in all
-branches. His ambition and effort was to excel all others in
-knowledge. His singular questions, which indicated a keen
-observation and capacity, had often excited the surprise of his
-father. And while the companions of the youth hailed with delight
-the time which released them from the benches of the school and
-from their studies, Richard cheerfully bound himself to his
-accustomed task, to appease his longing for knowledge.
-Approaching manhood had not changed him in this regard.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_636">{636}</a></span>
-He was punctual to the hours of business, and labored with zeal
-and interest, to the great joy of his father. He recreated
-himself with music and painting, or by a walk in the open
-country, for whose beauties he had a keen appreciation. The few
-shades of his character were, a proud haughtiness, an unyielding
-perseverance in his determinations, and a strength of conviction
-difficult to overcome. But perhaps these shades were, after all,
-great qualities, which were to brighten up and polish his
-maturity. This obstinacy the father was now considering, and, in
-reference to his singular view of marriage, it filled him with
-great anxiety.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But, Richard," began Herr Frank again, "how did you come to this
-singular conclusion?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"By observation and reflection&mdash;and also by experience, although
-you deny my years this right."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What have you experienced and observed?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have observed woman as she is, and found that such a creature
-would only make me miserable. What occupies their minds?
-Fineries, pleasures, and trifles. The pivot of their existence
-turns on dress, ornaments, balls, and the like. We live in an age
-of crinoline, and you know how I abominate that dress; I admit my
-aversion is abnormal, perhaps exaggerated, but I cannot overcome
-it. When I see a woman going through the streets with swelling
-hoops, the most whimsical fancies come into my mind. It reminds
-me of an inflated balloon, whose clumsy swell disfigures the most
-beautiful form. It reminds me of a drunken gawk, who swaggers
-along and carries the foolish gewgaw for a show. The costume is
-indeed expressive. It reveals the interior disposition. Crinoline
-is to me the type of the woman of our day&mdash;an empty, vain,
-inflated something. And this type repels me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then you believe our women to be vain, pleasure-seeking, and
-destitute of true womanhood, because they wear crinoline?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, the reverse. An overweening propensity to show and frivolity
-characterizes our women, and therefore they wear crinoline in
-spite of the protestations of the men."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Bah! Nonsense; you lay too much stress on fashion. I know many
-women myself who complain of this fashion."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And afterward follow it. This precisely confirms my opinion.
-Women have no longer sufficient moral force to disregard a
-disagreeable restraint. Their vanity is still stronger than their
-inclinations to a natural enjoyment of life."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you want a wife who would be sparing and saving; who, by her
-frugality, would increase your wealth; who, by her social
-seclusion, would not molest your cash-box?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No; I want no wife," answered the young man somewhat pettishly.
-"And I am not alone in this. The young men are beginning to
-awaken. A sound, natural feeling revolts against the vitiated
-taste of the women. Alliances are forming everywhere. The last
-paper announced that, at Marseilles, six thousand young men have,
-with joined hands, vowed never to marry until the women renounce
-their ruinous costumes and costly idleness, and return to a plain
-style of dress and frugal habits. I object to this propensity to
-ease and pleasure&mdash;this desire of our women for finery and the
-gratification of vanity. Not because this inclination is
-expensive, but because it is objectionable. Every creature has an
-object. But, if we consider the women of our day, we might well
-ask, for what are they here?"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_637">{637}</a></span>
-<p>
-"For what are women here, foolish man?" interrupted Herr Frank.
-"Are they to go about without any costume, like Eve before the
-fall? Are they to know the trials of life, and not its joys? Are
-they to exist like the women of the sultan, shut up in a harem?
-For what are they here? I will tell you. They are here to make
-life cheerful. Does not Schiller say,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "'Honor to woman! she scatters rife
-    Heavenly roses,'mid earthly life;
-      Love she weaves in gladdening bands;
-    Chastity's veil her charm attires;
-    Beautiful thoughts' eternal fires,
-      Watchful, she feeds with holy hands.'"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Richard smiled.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Poetical fancy!" said he. "My unhappy friend Emil Schlagbein
-often declaimed and sang with passion that same poem of
-Schiller's. Love had even made a poet of him. He wrote verses to
-his Ida. And now, scarcely three years married, he is the most
-miserable man in the world&mdash;miserable through his wife. Ida has
-still the same finely carved head as formerly; but that head, to
-the grief of Emil, is full of stubbornness&mdash;full of whimsical
-nonsense. Her eyes have still the same deep blue; but the
-charming expression has changed, and the blue not unfrequently
-indicates a storm. How often has Emil poured out his sorrows to
-me! How often complained of the coldness of his wife! A ball
-missed&mdash;missed from necessity&mdash;makes her stupid and sulky for
-days. In vain he seeks a cheerful look. When he returns home
-worried by the cares of business, he finds no consolation in
-Ida's sympathy, but is vexed by her stubbornness and offended by
-her coldness. Emil sprang headlong into misery. I will beware of
-such a step."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are unjust and prejudiced. Must all women, then, be Ida
-Schagbeins?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Perhaps my Ida might be still worse," retorted Richard sharply.
-</p>
-<p>
-Herr Frank drummed on his knees, always a sign of displeasure.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I tell you, Richard," said he emphatically. "Your time will come
-yet. You will follow the universal law, and this law will give
-the lie to your one-sided view&mdash;to your contempt of woman."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That impulse, father, can be overcome, and habit becomes a
-second nature. Besides&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Besides&mdash;well, what besides?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I would say that the time of which you speak is, in my case,
-happily passed," answered Richard, still gazing through the
-window. "For me the time of sentimental delusion has been short
-and decisive," he concluded with a bitter smile.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Can I, your father, ask a clearer explanation?"
-</p>
-<p>
-The young man leaned back in his seat and looked at the opposite
-side while he spoke.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Last summer I visited Baden-Baden. On old Mount Eberstein, which
-is so picturesquely enthroned above the village, I fell in with a
-party. Among the number was a young lady of rare beauty and great
-modesty. An acquaintance gave me an opportunity of being
-introduced to her. We sat in pleasant conversation under the
-black oaks until the approaching twilight compelled us to return
-to the town. Isabella&mdash;such was the name of the beauty&mdash;had made
-a deep impression on me. So deep that even the detested crinoline
-that encircled her person in large hoops found favor in my sight.
-Her manner was in no wise coquettish. She spoke with deliberation
-and spirit. Her countenance had always the same expression. Only
-when the young people, into whose heads the fiery wine had risen,
-gave expression to sharp words, did Isabella look up, and a
-displeased expression, as of injured delicacy, passed over her
-countenance.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_638">{638}</a></span> My presence seemed agreeable to her. My conversation may
-have pleased her. As we descended the mountain, we came to a
-difficult pass. I offered her my arm, which she took in the same
-unchanging, quiet manner which made her so charming in my sight.
-I soon discovered my affection for the stranger, and wondered how
-it could arise so suddenly and become so impetuous. I was ashamed
-at abandoning so quickly my opinion of women. But this feeling
-was not strong enough to stifle the incipient passion. My mind
-lay captive in the fetters of infatuation."
-</p>
-<p>
-He paused for a moment. The proud young man seemed to reproach
-himself for his conduct, which he considered wanting in manly
-independence and clear penetration.
-</p>
-<p>
-"On the following day," he continued, "there was to be a
-horse-race in the neighborhood. Before we parted, it was arranged
-that we would be present at it. I returned to my room in the
-hotel, and dreamed waking dreams of Isabella. My friend had told
-me that she was the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and that she
-had accompanied her invalid mother here. This mark of love and
-filial affection was not calculated to cool my ardor. Isabella
-appeared more beautiful and more charming still. We went to the
-race. I had the unspeakable happiness of being in the same car
-and sitting opposite her. After a short journey&mdash;to me, at least,
-it seemed short&mdash;we arrived at the grounds where the race was to
-take place. We ascended the platform. I sat at Isabella's side.
-She did not for a moment lose her quiet equanimity. The race
-began. I saw little of it, for Isabella was constantly before my
-eyes, look where I would. Suddenly a noise&mdash;a loud cry&mdash;roused me
-from my dream. Not twenty paces from where we sat, a horse had
-fallen. The rider was under him. The floundering animal had
-crushed both legs of the unfortunate man. Even now I can see his
-frightfully distorted features before me. I feared that
-Isabella's delicate sensibility might be wounded by the horrible
-sight. And when I looked at her, what did I see? A smiling face!
-She had lost her quiet, weary manner, and a hard, unfeeling soul
-lighted up her features!
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Do you not think this change in the monotony of the race quite
-magnificent?' said she.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I made no answer. With an apology, I left the party and returned
-alone to Baden."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Very well," said the father, "your Isabella was an unfeeling
-creature granted. But now for your application of this
-experience."
-</p>
-<p>
-"We will let another make the application, father. Listen a
-moment. In Baden a bottle of Rhine wine, whose spirit is so
-congenial to sad and melancholy feelings, served to obliterate
-the desolate remembrance. I sat in the almost deserted
-dining-room. The guests were at the theatre, on excursions in the
-neighborhood, or dining about the park. An old man sat opposite
-me. I remarked that his eyes, when he thought himself unobserved,
-were turned inquiringly on me. The sudden cooling of my passion
-had perhaps left some marks upon me. The stranger believed,
-perhaps, that I was an unlucky and desperate player. A player I
-had indeed been. I had been about to stake my happiness on a
-beautiful form. But I had won the game.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_639">{639}</a></span>
-<p>
-"The wine soon cheered me up and I entered into conversation with
-the stranger. We spoke of various things, and finally of the
-race. As there was a friendly, confiding expression in the old
-man's countenance, I related to him the unhappy fall of the
-rider, and dwelt sharply on the impression the hideous spectacle
-made on Isabella. I told him that such a degree of callousness
-and insensibility was new to me, and that this sad experience had
-shocked me greatly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'This comes,' said he, 'from permitting yourself to be deceived
-by appearances, and because you do not know certain classes of
-society. If you consider the beautiful Isabella with sensual
-eyes, you will run great danger of taking appearances for
-truth&mdash;the false for the real. Even the plainest exterior is
-often only sham. Painted cheeks, colored eyebrows, false hair,
-false teeth; and even if these forms were not false, but true&mdash;if
-you penetrate these forms, if, under the constraint of graceful
-repose, we see modesty, purity, and even humility&mdash;there is then
-still greater danger of deception. A wearied, enervated nature,
-nerves blunted by the enjoyment of all kinds of pleasures, are
-frequently all that remains of womanly nature.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Do you wish to see striking examples of this? Go into the
-gaming saloons&mdash;into those horrible places where fearful and
-consuming passions seethe; where desperation and suicide lurk. Go
-into the corrupt, poisonous atmosphere of those gambling hells,
-and there you will find women every day and every hour. Whence
-this disgusting sight? The violent excitement of gambling alone
-can afford sufficient attraction for those who have been sated
-with all kinds of pleasures. Is a criminal to be executed? I give
-you my word of honor that women give thousands of francs to
-obtain the best place, where they can contemplate more
-conveniently the shocking spectacle and read every expression in
-the distorted features of the struggling malefactor.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Isabella was one of these exhausted, enervated creatures, and
-hence her pleasure at the sight of the mangled rider.'
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thus spoke the stranger, and I admitted that he was right. At
-the same time I tried to penetrate deeper into this want of
-sensibility. Like a venturesome miner, I descended into the
-psychological depth. I shuddered at what I there discovered, and
-at the inferences which Isabella's conduct forced upon my mind.
-No, father, no," said he impetuously, "I will have no such
-nuptials&mdash;I will never rush into the miseries of matrimony!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thunder and lightning! are you a man?" cried Herr Frank.
-"Because Emil's wife and Isabella are good-for-nothings, must the
-whole sex be repudiated? Both cases are exceptions. These
-exceptions give you no right to judge unfavorably of all women.
-This prejudice does no honor to your good sense, Richard. It is
-only eccentricity can judge thus."
-</p>
-<p>
-The train stopped. The travellers went out, where a carriage
-awaited them.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is everything right?" said Herr Frank to the driver.
-</p>
-<p>
-"All is fixed, sir, as you required."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is the box of books taken out?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, sir."
-</p>
-<p>
-The coach moved up the street. The dark mountain-side rose into
-view, and narrow, deep valleys yawned beneath the travellers.
-Fresh currents of air rushed down the mountain and Herr Frank
-inhaled refreshing draughts.
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard gazed thoughtfully over the magnificent vineyards and
-luxurient orchards.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_640">{640}</a></span>
-<p>
-The road grew steeper and the wooded summit of the mountain
-approached. A light which Frank beheld with satisfaction glared
-out from it. Its rays shot out upon the town that, amid rich
-vineyards, topped the neighboring hill.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Our residence is beautifully located," said Herr Frank. "How
-cheerful it looks up there! It is a home fit for princes."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You have indeed chosen a magnificent spot, father. Everything
-unites to make Frankenhöhe a delightful place. The vineyards on
-the slopes of the hills, the smiling hamlet of Salingen to the
-right. In the background the stern mountain with its proud ruins
-on the summit of Salburg, the deep valleys and the dark ravines,
-all unite in the landscape: to the east that beautiful plain."
-</p>
-<p>
-These words pleased the father. His eyes rested long on the
-beautiful property.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You have forgotten a reason for my happy choice," said he, while
-a smile played on his features. "I mean the habit of my friend
-and deliverer, who, for the last eight years, spends the month of
-May at Frankenhöhe. You know the singular character of the
-doctor. Nothing in the world can tear him from his books. He has
-renounced all pleasure and enjoyment, to devote his whole time to
-his books. When Frankenhöhe entices and captivates the man of
-science, so strict, so dead to the world, it is, as I think, the
-highest compliment to our place."
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard did not question his father's opinion. He knew his
-unbounded esteem for the learned doctor.
-</p>
-<p>
-The road grew steeper and steeper. The horses labored slowly
-along. The pleasant hamlet of Salingen lay a short distance to
-the left. A single house, separated from the village, and
-standing near the road in the midst of vineyards, came into view.
-The features of Herr Frank darkened as he turned his gaze from
-Frankenhöhe to this house. It was as though some unpleasant
-recollection was associated with it. Richard looked at the
-stately mansion, the large out-houses, the walled courts, neat
-and clean.
-</p>
-<p>
-"This must be a wealthy proprietor or influential landlord who
-lives here," said Richard. "I have indeed seen this place in
-former years, but it did not interest me. How inviting and
-pleasant it looks. The property must have undergone considerable
-change at least, I remember nothing that indicated the place to
-be other than an ordinary farmhouse."
-</p>
-<p>
-Herr Frank did not hear these observations. He muttered some
-bitter imprecation. The coach gained the summit, left the road,
-and passed through vineyards and chestnut groves to the house.
-</p>
-<p>
-Frankenhöhe was a handsome two-story house whose arrangements
-corresponded to Frank's taste and means. Near it stood another,
-occupied by the steward. A short distance from it were stables
-and out-houses for purposes of agriculture.
-</p>
-<p>
-Herr Frank went directly to the house, and passed from room to
-room to see if his instructions had been carried out.
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard went into the garden and walked on paths covered with
-yellow sand. He strolled about among flower-beds that loaded the
-air with agreeable odors. He examined the blooming dwarf
-fruit-trees and ornamental plants. He observed the neatness and
-exact order of everything. Lastly, he stood near the vineyard
-whence he could behold an extensive view.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_641">{641}</a></span>
-He admired the beautiful, fragrant landscape. He stood
-thoughtfully reflecting. His conversation made it evident to him
-that his feelings and will did not agree with his father's
-wishes. He saw that between his inclinations and his love for his
-father he must undergo a severe struggle&mdash;a struggle that must
-decide his happiness for life. The strangeness of his opinion of
-women did not escape him. He tested his experience. He tried to
-justify his convictions, and yet his father's claims and filial
-duty prevailed.
-</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="center">
-                Chapter II.
-<br><br>
-             The Weather-cross.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-The next morning Richard was out with the early larks, and
-returned after a few hours in a peculiar frame of mind. As he was
-entering his room, he saw through the open door his father
-standing in the saloon. Herr Frank was carefully examining the
-arrangements, as the servants were carrying books into the
-adjoining room and placing them in a bookcase. Richard, as he
-passed, greeted his father briefly, contrary to his usual custom.
-At other times he used to exchange a few words with his father
-when he bid him good-morning, and he let no occasion pass of
-giving his opinion on any matter in which he knew his father took
-an interest.
-</p>
-<p>
-The young man walked to the open window of his room, and gazed
-into the distance. He remained motionless for a time. He ran his
-fingers through his hair, and with a jerk of the head threw the
-brown locks back from his forehead. He walked restlessly back and
-forth, and acted like a man who tries in vain to escape from
-thoughts that force themselves upon him. At length he went to the
-piano, and beat an impetuous impromptu on the keys.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ei, Richard!" cried Herr Frank, whom the wild music had brought
-to his side. "Why, you rave! How possessed! One would think you
-had discovered a roaring cataract in the mountains, and wished to
-imitate its violence."
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard glanced quickly at his father, and finished with a
-tender, plaintive melody.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come over here and look at the rooms."
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard followed his father and examined carelessly the elegant
-rooms, and spoke a few cold words of commendation.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And what do you say to this flora?" said Herr Frank pointing to
-a stepped framework on which bloomed the most beautiful and rare
-flowers.
-</p>
-<p>
-"All very beautiful, father. The doctor will be much pleased, as
-he always is here."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I wish and hope so. I have had the peacocks and turkeys sent
-away, because Klingenberg cannot endure their noise. The library
-here will always be his favorite object, and care has been taken
-with it. Here are the best books on all subjects, even theology
-and astronomy."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Frankenhöhe is indeed cheerful as the heart of youth and quiet
-as a cloister," said Richard. "Your friend would indeed be
-ungrateful if this attention did not gratify him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have also provided that excellent wine which he loves and
-enjoys as a healthful medicine. But, Richard, you know
-Klingenberg's peculiarities. You must not play as you did just
-now; you would drive the doctor from the house."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Make yourself easy about that, father; I will play while he is
-on the mountain."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_642">{642}</a></span>
-<p>
-Richard took a book from the shelf, and glanced over it. Herr
-Frank left him, and he immediately replaced the book and returned
-to his own room. There he wrote in his diary:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "12th of May.&mdash;Man is too apt to be led by his inclination. And
-  what is inclination? A feeling caused by external impressions,
-  or superinduced by a disposition of the body. Inclination,
-  therefore, is something inimical to intellectual life. A vine
-  that threatens to overgrow and smother clear conviction. Never
-  act from inclination, if you do not wish to be unfaithful to
-  conviction and guilty of a weakness."
-</p>
-<p>
-He went into the garden, where he talked to the gardener about
-trees and flowers.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are you acquainted in Salingen, John?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Certainly, sir. I was born there."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do strangers sometimes come there to stop and enjoy the
-beautiful neighborhood?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! no, sir; there is no suitable hotel there&mdash;only plain
-taverns; and people of quality would not stop at them."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are there people of rank in Salingen?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Only farmers, sir. But&mdash;-stay. The rich Siegwart appears to be
-such, and his children are brought up in that manner."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Has Siegwart many children?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Four&mdash;two boys and two girls. One son is at college. The other
-takes care of the estate, and is at home. The oldest daughter has
-been at the convent for three years. She is now nineteen years
-old. The second is still a child."
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard went further into the garden; he looked over at Salingen,
-and then at the mountains. His eye followed a path that went
-winding up the mountain like a golden thread and led to the top.
-Then his eye rested for a time on a particular spot in that
-yellow path. Richard remained taciturn and reserved the rest of
-the day. He sat in his room and tried to read, but the subject
-did not interest him. He often looked dreamily from the book. He
-finally arose, took his hat and cane, and was soon lost in the
-mountain. The next morning Richard went to the borders of the
-forest, and looked frequently over at Salingen as it lay in rural
-serenity before him. The pleasant hamlet excited his interest. He
-then turned to the right and pursued the yellow path which he had
-examined the day before, up the mountain. The birds sang in the
-bushes, and on the branches of the tallest oak perched the
-black-bird whose morning hymn echoed far and wide. The sweet
-notes of the nightingale joined in the general concert, and the
-shrill piping of the hawk struck in discordantly with the varied
-and beautiful song. Even unconscious nature displayed her
-beauties. The dew hung in great drops on the grass-blades and
-glittered like so many brilliants, and wild flowers loaded the
-air with sweet perfumes. Richard saw little of these beauties of
-spring. He ascended still higher. His mind seemed agitated and
-burdened. He had just turned a bend in the road when he saw a
-female figure approaching. His cheeks grew darker as his eyes
-rested on the approaching figure. He gazed in the distance, and a
-disdainful flush overspread his face. He approached her as he
-would approach an enemy whose power he had felt, and whom he
-wished to conciliate.
-</p>
-<p>
-She was within fifty paces of him. Her blue dress fell in heavy
-folds about her person. The ribbons of her straw bonnet, that
-hung on her arm, fluttered in the breeze. In her left hand she
-held a bunch of flowers. On her right arm hung a silk mantle,
-which the mild air had rendered unnecessary.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_643">{643}</a></span>
-Her full, glossy hair was partly in a silk net and partly plaited
-over the forehead and around the head, as is sometimes seen with
-children. Her countenance was exquisitely beautiful, and her
-light eyes now rested full and clear on the stranger who
-approached her. She looked at him with the easy, natural
-inquisitiveness of a child, surprised to meet such an elegant
-gentleman in this place.
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank looked furtively at her, as though he feared the
-fascinating power of the vision that so lightly and gracefully
-passed him. He raised his hat stiffly and formally. This was
-necessary to meet the requirement of etiquette. Were it not, he
-would perhaps have passed her by without a salutation. She did
-not return his greeting with a stiff bow, but with a friendly
-"good-morning;" and this too in a voice whose sweetness, purity,
-and melody harmonized with the the beautiful echoes of the
-morning.
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank moved on hastily for some distance. He was about to look
-back, but did not do so; and continued on his way, with
-contracted brows, till a turn in the road hid her from his view.
-Here he stopped and wiped the sweat from his forehead, His heart
-beat quickly, and he was agitated by strong emotions. He stood
-leaning on his cane and gazing into the shadows of the forest. He
-then continued thoughtfully, and ascended some hundred feet
-higher till he gained the top of the mountain. The tall trees
-ceased; a variegated copsewood crowned the summit, which formed a
-kind of platform. Human hands had levelled the ground, and on the
-moss that covered it grew modest little violets. Near the border
-of the platform stood a stone cross of rough material. Near this
-cross lay the fragments of another large rock, that might have
-been shattered by lightning years before. A few steps back of
-this, on two square blocks of stone, stood a statue of the Virgin
-and Child, of white stone very carefully wrought, but without
-much art. The Virgin had a crown of roses on her head. The Child
-held a little bunch of forget-me-nots in its hand, and as it held
-them out seemed to say, "Forget me not," Two heavy vases that
-could not be easily overturned by the wind, standing on the upper
-block, also contained flowers. All these flowers were quite
-fresh, as if they had just been placed there.
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard examined these things, and wondered what they meant in
-this solitude of the mountain. The fresh flowers and the
-cleanliness of the statue, on which no dust or moss could be
-seen, indicated a careful keeper. He thought of the young woman
-whom he met. He had seen the same kind of flowers in her hand,
-and doubtless she was the devotee of the place.
-</p>
-<p>
-Scarcely had his thoughts taken this direction when he turned
-away and walked to the border of the plot, and gazed at the
-country before him. He looked down toward Frankenhöhe, whose
-white chimneys appeared above the chestnut grove. He contemplated
-the plains with their luxuriant fields reflecting every shade of
-green&mdash;the strips of forests that lay like shadows in the sunny
-plain&mdash;numberless hamlets with church towers whose gilded
-crosses gleamed in the sun. He gazed in the distance where the
-mountain ranges vanished in the mist, and long he enjoyed the
-magnificence of the view. He was aroused from his dreamy
-contemplation by the sound of footsteps behind him.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_644">{644}</a></span>
-<p>
-An old man with a load of wood on his shoulders came up to the
-place. Breathing heavily, he threw down the wood and wiped the
-sweat from his face. He saw the stranger, and respectfully
-touched his cap as he sat down on the wood.
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank went to him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are from Salingen, I suppose," he began
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, sir."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is very hard for an old man like you to carry such a load so
-far."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is indeed, but I am poor and must do it."
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank looked at the patched clothes of the old man, his coarse
-shoes, his stockingless feet, and meagre body, and felt
-compassion for him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"For us poor people the earth bears but thistles and thorns."
-After a pause, the old man continued, "We have to undergo many
-tribulations and difficulties, and sometimes we even suffer from
-hunger. But thus it is in the world. The good God will reward us
-in the next world for our sufferings in this."
-</p>
-<p>
-These words sounded strangely to Richard. Raised as he was in the
-midst of wealth, and without contact with poverty, he had never
-found occasion to consider the lot of the poor; and now the
-resignation of the old man, and his hope in the future, seemed
-strange to him. He was astonished that religion could have such
-power&mdash;so great and strong&mdash;to comfort the poor in the miseries
-of a hopeless, comfortless life.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But what if your hope in another world deceive you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-The old man looked at him with astonishment.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How can I be deceived? God is faithful. He keeps his promises."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And what has he promised you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Eternal happiness if I persevere, patient and just, to the end."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I wonder at your strong faith!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is my sole possession on earth. What would support us poor
-people, what would keep us from despair, if religion did not?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank put his hand into his pocket.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Here," said he, "perhaps this money will relieve your wants."
-</p>
-<p>
-The old man looked at the bright thalers in his hand, and the
-tears trickled down his cheeks.
-</p>
-<p>
-"This is too much, sir; I cannot receive six thalers from you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is but a trifle for me; put it in your pocket, and say no
-more about it."
-</p>
-<p>
-"May God reward and bless you a thousand times for it!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"What does that cross indicate?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is a weather cross, sir. We have a great deal of bad
-weather to fear. We have frequent storms here, in summer; they
-hang over the mountain and rage terribly. Every ravine becomes a
-torrent that dashes over the fields, hurling rocks and sand from
-the mountain. Our fields are desolated and destroyed. The people
-of Salingen placed that cross there against the weather. In
-spring the whole community come here in procession and pray God
-to protect them from the storms."
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard reflected on this phenomenon; the confidence of these
-simple people in the protection of God, whose omnipotence must
-intervene between the remorseless elements and their victims,
-appeared to him as the highest degree of simplicity. But he kept
-his thoughts to himself, for he respected the religious
-sentiments of the old man, and would not hurt his feelings.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And the Virgin, why is she there?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! that is a wonderful story, sir," he answered, apparently
-wishing to evade an explanation.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Which every one ought not to know?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well&mdash;but perhaps the gentleman would laugh, and I would not
-like that!"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_645">{645}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Why do you think I would laugh at the story?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Because you are a gentleman of quality, and from the city, and
-such people do not believe any more in miracles."
-</p>
-<p>
-This observation of rustic sincerity was not pleasing to Frank.
-It expressed the opinion that the higher classes ignore faith in
-the supernatural.
-</p>
-<p>
-"If I promise you not to laugh, will you tell me the story?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I will; you were kind to me, and you can ask the story of me.
-About thirty years ago," began the old man after a pause, "there
-lived a wealthy farmer at Salingen whose name was Schenck.
-Schenck was young. He married a rich maiden and thereby increased
-his property. But Schenck had many great faults. He did not like
-to work and look after his fields. He let his servants do as they
-pleased, and his fields were, of course, badly worked and yielded
-no more than half a crop. Schenck sat always in the tavern, where
-he drank and played cards and dice. Almost every night he came
-home drunk. Then he would quarrel with his wife, who reproached
-him. He abused her, swore wickedly, and knocked everything about
-the room, and behaved very badly altogether. Schenck sank lower
-and lower, and became at last a great sot. His property was soon
-squandered. He sold one piece after another, and when he had no
-more property to sell, he took it into his head to sell himself
-to the devil for money. He went one night to a cross-road and
-called the devil, but the devil would not come; perhaps because
-Schenck belonged to him already, for the Scripture says, 'A
-drunkard cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.' At last a suit was
-brought against him, and the last of his property was sold, and
-he was driven from his home. This hurt Schenck very much, for he
-always had a certain kind of pride. He thought of the past times
-when he was rich and respected, and now he had lost all respect
-with his neighbors. He thought of his wife and his four children,
-whom he had made poor and miserable. All this drove him to
-despair. He determined to put an end to himself. He bought a rope
-and came up here one morning to hang himself. He tied the rope to
-an arm of the cross, and had his head in the noose, when all at
-once he remembered that he had not yet said his three "Hail!
-Marys." His mother who was dead had accustomed him, when a child,
-to say every day three "Hail! Marys." Schenck had never neglected
-this practice for a single day. Then he took his head out of the
-noose and said, 'Well, as I have said the "Hail! Marys" every
-day, I will say them also to-day, for the last time.' He knelt
-down before the cross and prayed. When he was done, he stood up
-to hang himself. But he had scarcely stood on his feet when he
-was snatched up by a whirlwind and carried through the air till
-he was over a vineyard, where he fell without hurting himself. As
-he stood up, an ugly man stood before him and said, 'This time
-you have escaped me, but the next time I will get you.' The ugly
-man had horses' hoofs in place of feet, and wore green clothes.
-He disappeared before Schenck's eyes. Schenck swears that this
-ugly man was the devil. He declares also that he has to thank the
-Mother of God, through whose intercession he escaped the claws of
-the devil. Schenck had that statue placed there in memory of his
-wonderful escape&mdash;and that is why the Mother of God is there."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_646">{646}</a></span>
-<p>
-"A wonderful story indeed!" said Richard. "Although I do not
-laugh at it, as you see, yet I must assure you that I do not
-believe the story."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I thought so," answered the old man. "But you can ask Schenck
-himself. He is still living, and is now seventy. Since that day
-he has changed entirely. He drinks nothing but water. He never
-enters a tavern, but goes every day to church. From that time to
-this Schenck has been very industrious, and has saved a nice
-property."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That the drunkard reformed is the most remarkable and best part
-of the story," said Frank. "Drunkards very seldom reform. But,"
-continued he smiling, "the devil acted very stupidly in the
-affair. He should have known that his appearance would have made
-a deep impression on the man, and that he would not let himself
-be caught a second time."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is true," said the old man. "But I believe the devil was
-forced to appear and speak so."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Forced? By whom?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"By Him before whom the devils must believe and tremble. Schenck
-was to understand that God delivered him on account of his pious
-custom, and the devil had to tell him that this would not happen
-a second time."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How prudent you are in your superstition!" said Frank.
-</p>
-<p>
-"As the gentleman has been kind to me, it hurts me to hear him
-speak so."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Now," said Richard quickly, "I would not hurt your feelings. One
-may be a good Christian without believing fables. And the flowers
-near the statue. Has Schenck placed them there too?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! no&mdash;the Angel did that."
-</p>
-<p>
-"The Angel. Who is that?" said Frank, surprised.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The Angel of Salingen&mdash;Siegwart's angel."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! angel is Angela, is it not?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"So she may be called. In Salingen they call her only Angel. And
-she is indeed as lovely, good, and beautiful as an angel. She has
-a heart for the poor, and she gives with an open hand and a
-smiling face that does one good. She is like her father, who
-gives me as many potatoes as I want, and seed for my little patch
-of ground."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why does Angela decorate this statue?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not know; perhaps she does it through devotion."
-</p>
-<p>
-"The flowers are quite fresh; does she come here every day?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Every day during the month of May, and no longer."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why no longer?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not know the reason; she has done so for the last two
-years, since she came home from the convent, and she will do so
-this year."
-</p>
-<p>
-"As Siegwart is so good to the poor, he must be rich."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Very rich&mdash;you can see from his house. Do you see that fine
-building there next to the road? That is the residence of Herr
-Siegwart."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was the same building that had arrested Richard's attention as
-he passed it some days before, and the sight of which had excited
-the ill-humor of his father. Richard returned by a shorter way to
-Frankenhöhe. He was serious and meditative. Arrived at home, he
-wrote in his diary:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "May 13th.&mdash;Well, I have seen her. She exhibits herself as the
-  'Angel of Salingen.' She is extremely beautiful. She is full of
-  amiability and purity of character. And to-day she did not wear
-  that detestable crinoline. But she will have other foibles in
-  place of it. She will, in some things at least, yield to the
-  superficial tendencies of her sex. Isabella was an ideal, until
-  she descended from the height where my imagination, deceived by
-  her charms, had placed her. The impression which Angela's
-  appearance produced has rests on the same
-  foundation&mdash;deception. A better acquaintance will soon discover
-  this. Curious! I long to become better acquainted!
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_647">{647}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Religion is not a disease or hallucination, as many think. It
-  is a power. Religion teaches the poor to bear their hard lot
-  with patience. It comforts and keeps them from despair. It
-  directs their attention to an eternal reward, and this hope
-  compensates them for all the afflictions and miseries of this
-  life. Without religion, human society would fall to pieces."
-</p>
-<p>
-A servant entered, and announced dinner.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah Richard!" said Herr Frank good-humoredly. "Half an hour late
-for dinner, and had to be called! That is strange; I do not
-remember such a thing to have happened before. You are always as
-punctual as a repeater."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I was in the mountain and had just returned."
-</p>
-<p>
-"No excuse, my son. I am glad the neighborhood diverts you, and
-that you depart a little from your regularity. Now everything is
-in good order, as I desired, for my friend and deliverer. I have
-just received a letter from him. He will be here in two days. I
-shall be glad to see the good man again. If Frankenhöhe will only
-please him for a long time!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have no doubt of that," said Richard. "The doctor will be
-received like a friend, treated like a king, and will live here
-like Adam and Eve in paradise."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Everything will go on as formerly. I will be coming and going on
-account of business. You will, of course, remain uninterruptedly
-at Frankenhöhe. You are high in the doctor's esteem. You interest
-him very much. It is true you annoy him sometimes with your
-unlearned objections and bold assertions. But I have observed
-that even vexation, when it comes from you, is not disagreeable
-to him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But the poor should not annoy him with their sick," said
-Richard. "He never denies his services to the poor, as he never
-grants them to the rich. Indeed, I have sometimes observed that
-he tears himself from his books with the greatest reluctance, and
-it is not without an effort that he does it."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But we cannot change it," said Herr Frank; "we cannot send the
-poor away without deeply offending Klingenberg. But I esteem him
-the more for his generosity."
-</p>
-<p>
-After dinner the father and son went into the garden and talked
-of various matters; suddenly Richard stopped and pointing over to
-Salingen, said,
-</p>
-<p>
-"I passed to-day that neat building that stands near the road.
-Who lives there?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"There lives the noble and lordly Herr Siegwart," said Herr Frank
-derisively.
-</p>
-<p>
-His tone surprised Richard. He was not accustomed to hear his
-father speak thus.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is Siegwart a noble?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not in the strict sense. But he is the ruler of Salingen. He
-rules in that town as absolutely as princes formerly did in their
-kingdoms."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What is the cause of his influence?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"His wealth, in the first place; secondly, his charity; and
-lastly, his cunning."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are not favorable to him?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, indeed! The Siegwart family is excessively ultramontane and
-clerical. You know I cannot endure these narrow prejudices and
-this obstinate adherence to any form of religion. Besides, I have
-a particular reason for disagreement with Siegwart, of which I
-need not now speak."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_648">{648}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Excessively ultramontane and clerical!" thought Richard, as he
-went to his room. "Angela is undoubtedly educated in this spirit.
-Stultifying confessionalism and religious narrow-mindedness have
-no doubt cast a deep shadow over the 'angel.' Now&mdash;patience; the
-deception will soon banish."
-</p>
-<p>
-He took up Schlosser's History, and read a long time. But his
-eyes wandered from the page, and his thoughts soon followed.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next morning at the same hour Richard went to the weather
-cross. He took the same road and again he met Angela; she had the
-same blue dress, the same straw hat on her arm, and flowers in
-her hand. She beheld him with the same clear eyes, with the same
-unconstrained manner&mdash;only, as he thought, more charming&mdash;as on
-the first day. He greeted her coolly and formally, as before. She
-thanked him with the same affability. Again the temptation came
-over him to look back at her; again he overcame it. When he came
-to the statue, he found fresh flowers in the vases. The child
-Jesus had fresh forget-me-nots in his hand, and the Mother had a
-crown of fresh roses on her head. On the upper stone lay a book,
-bound in blue satin and clasped with a silver clasp. When he took
-it up, he found beneath it a rosary made of an unknown material,
-and having a gold cross fastened at the end. He opened the book.
-The passage that had been last read was marked with a silk
-ribbon. It was as follows:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "My son, trust not thy present affection; it will be quickly
-  changed into another. As long as thou livest thou art subject
-  to change, even against thy will; so as to be sometimes joyful,
-  at other times sad; now easy, now troubled; at one time devout,
-  at another dry; sometimes fervent, at other times sluggish; one
-  day heavy, another day lighter. But he that is wise and well
-  instructed in spirit stands above all these changes, not
-  minding what he feels in himself, nor on what side the wind of
-  instability blows; but that the whole bent of his soul may
-  advance toward its due and wished-for end; for thus he may
-  continue one and the self-same without being shaken, by
-  directing without ceasing, through all this variety of events,
-  the single eye of his intention toward me. And by how much more
-  pure the eye of the intention is, with so much greater
-  constancy mayest thou pass through these   divers storms.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "But in many the eye of pure intention is dark; for men quickly
-  look toward something delightful that comes in their way. And
-  it is rare to find one who is wholly free from all blemish of
-  self-seeking."
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank remembered having written about the same thoughts in his
-diary. But here they were conceived in another and deeper sense.
-</p>
-<p>
-He read the title of the book. It was <i>The Following of
-Christ</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-He copied the title in his pocketbook. He then with a smile
-examined the rosary, for he was not without prejudice against
-this kind of prayer.
-</p>
-<p>
-He had no doubt Angela had left these things here, and he thought
-it would be proper to return them to the owner. He came slowly
-down the mountain reading the book. It was clear to him that
-<i>The Following of Christ</i> was a book full of very earnest
-and profound reflections. And he wondered how so young a woman
-could take any interest in such serious reading. He was convinced
-that all the ladies he knew would throw such a book aside with a
-sneer, because its contents condemned their lives and habits.
-Angela, then, must be of a different character from all the
-ladies he knew, and he was very desirous of knowing better this
-character of Angela.
-</p>
-<p>
-In a short time he entered the gate and passed through the yard
-to the stately building where Herr Siegwart dwelt. He glanced
-hastily at the long out-buildings&mdash;the large barns; at the
-polished cleanliness of the paved court, the perfect order of
-everything, and finally at the ornamented mansion.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_649">{649}</a></span>
-Then he looked at the old lindens that stood near the house,
-whose trunks were protected from injury by iron railings. In the
-tops of these trees lodged a lively family of sparrows, who were
-at present in hot contention, for they quarrelled and cried as
-loud and as long as did formerly the lords in the parliament of
-Frankfort. The beautiful garden, separated from the yard by a low
-wall covered with white boards, did not escape him. Frank
-entered, upon a broad and very clean path; as his feet touched
-the stone slabs, he heard, through the open door, a low growl,
-and then a man's voice saying, "Quiet, Hector."
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank walked through the open door into a large room handsomely
-furnished, and odoriferous with a multitude of flowers in vases.
-A man in the prime of life sat on the sofa reading and smoking.
-He wore a light-brown overcoat, brown trousers, and low, thick
-boots. He had a fresh, florid complexion, red beard, blue eyes,
-and an expressive, agreeable countenance. When Frank entered he
-arose, laid aside the paper and cigar, and approached the
-visitor.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I found these things on the mountain near the weather-cross."
-said Frank, after a more formal than affable bow. "As your
-daughter met me, I presume they belong to her. I thought it my
-duty to return them."
-</p>
-<p>
-"These things certainly belong to my daughter," answered Herr
-Siegwart. "You are very kind, sir. You have placed us under
-obligations to you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I was passing this way," said Frank briefly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And whom have we the honor to thank?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am Richard Frank."
-</p>
-<p>
-Herr Siegwart bowed. Frank noticed a slight embarrassment in his
-countenance. He remembered the expressions his father had used in
-reference to the Siegwart family, and it was clear to him that a
-reciprocal ill feeling existed here. Siegwart soon resumed his
-friendly manner, and invited him with much formality to the sofa.
-Richard felt that he must accept the invitation at least for a
-few moments. Siegwart sat on a chair in front of him, and they
-talked of various unimportant matters. Frank admired the skill
-which enabled him to conduct, without interruption, so pleasant a
-conversation with a stranger.
-</p>
-<p>
-While they were speaking, some house-swallows flew into the room.
-They fluttered about without fear, sat on the open door, and
-joined their cheerful twittering with the conversation of the
-men. Richard expressed his admiration, and said he had never seen
-anything like it.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Our constant guests in summer," answered Siegwart. "They build
-their nests in the hall, and as they rise earlier than we do, an
-opening is left for them above the hall door, where they can go
-in and out undisturbed when the doors are closed. Angela is in
-their confidence, and on the best of terms with them. When rainy
-or cold days come during breeding time they suffer from want of
-food. Angela is then their procurator. I have often admired
-Angela's friendly intercourse with the swallows, who perch upon
-her shoulders and hands."
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard looked indeed at the twittering swallows, but their
-friend Angela passed before his eyes, so beautiful indeed that he
-no longer heard what Siegwart was saying.
-</p>
-<p>
-He arose; Siegwart accompanied him. As they passed through the
-yard, Frank observed the long row of stalls, and said, "You must
-have considerable stock?"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_650">{650}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Yes, somewhat. If you would like to see the property, I will
-show you around with pleasure."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I regret that I cannot now avail myself of your kindness; I
-shall do so in a few days," answered Frank.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Herr Frank," said Siegwart, "may the accident which has given us
-the pleasure of your agreeable visit, be the occasion of many
-visits in future. I know that as usual you will spend the month
-of May at Frankenhöhe. We are neighbors&mdash;this title, in my
-opinion, should indicate a friendly intercourse."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Let it be understood, Herr Siegwart; I accept with pleasure your
-invitation."
-</p>
-<p>
-On the way to Frankenhöhe Richard walked very slowly, and gazed
-into the distance before him. He thought of the swallows that
-perched on Angela's shoulders and hands. Their sweet notes still
-echoed in his soul.
-</p>
-<p>
-The country-like quiet of Siegwart's house and the sweet peace
-that pervaded it were something new to him. He thought of the
-simple character of Siegwart, who, as his father said, was
-"ultramontane and clerical," and whom he had represented to
-himself as a dark, reserved man. He found nothing in the open,
-natural manner of the man to correspond with his preconceived
-opinion of him. Richard concluded that either Herr Siegwart was
-not an ultramontane, or the characteristics of the ultramontanes,
-as portrayed in the free-thinking newspapers of the day, were
-erroneous and false.
-</p>
-<p>
-Buried in such thoughts, he reached Frankenhöhe. As he passed
-through the yard, he did not observe the carriage that stood
-there. But as he passed under the window, he heard a loud voice,
-and some books were thrown from the window and fell at his feet.
-He looked down in surprise at the books, whose beautiful binding
-was covered with sand. He now observed the coach, and smiled.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! the doctor is here," said he. "He has thrown these unwelcome
-guests out of the window. Just like him."
-</p>
-<p>
-He took up the books and read the titles, <i>Vogt's Pictures from
-Animal Life, Vogt's Physiological Letters, Colbe's Sensualism.</i>
-</p>
-<p>
-He took the books to his room and began to read them. Herr Frank,
-with his joyful countenance, soon appeared.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Klingenberg is here!" said he.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I suspected as much already," said Richard. "I passed by just as
-he threw the books out of the window with his usual impetuosity."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do not let him see the books; the sight of them sets him wild."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Klingenberg walks only in his own room. I wish to read these
-books; what enrages him with innocent paper?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I scarcely know, myself. He examined the library and was much
-pleased with some of the works. But suddenly he tore these books
-from their place and hurled them through the window."
-</p>
-<p>
-"'I tolerate no bad company among these noble geniuses,' said he,
-pointing to the learned works.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Pardon me, honored friend,' said I, 'if, without my knowledge,
-some bad books were included. What kind of writings are these,
-doctor?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Stupid materialistic trash,' said he.' If I had Vogt,
-Moleschott, Colbe, and Büchner here, I would throw them body and
-bones out of the window.'
-</p>
-<p>
-"I was very much surprised at this declaration, so contrary to
-the doctor's kind disposition.'What kind of people are those you
-have named?' said I.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_651">{651}</a></span>
-<p>
-"'No people, my dear Frank,' said he.' They are animals, This
-Vogt and his fellows have excluded themselves from the pale of
-humanity, inasmuch as they have declared apes, oxen, and asses to
-be their equals.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am now very desirous to know these books," said Richard.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, do not let our friend know your intention," urged Frank.
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard dressed and went to greet the singular guest. He was
-sitting before a large folio. He arose at Richard's entrance and
-paternally reached him both hands.
-</p>
-<p>
-Doctor Klingenberg was of a compact, strong build. He had
-unusually long arms, which he swung back and forth in walking.
-His features were sharp, but indicated a modest character. From
-beneath his bushy eyebrows there glistened two small eyes that
-did not give an agreeable expression to his countenance. This
-unfavorable expression was, however, only the shell of a warm
-heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-The doctor was good-natured&mdash;hard on himself, but mild in his
-judgments of others. He had an insatiable desire for knowledge,
-and it impelled him to severe studies that robbed him of his hair
-and made him prematurely bald.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How healthy you look, Richard!" said he, contemplating the young
-man. "I am glad to see you have not been spoiled by the seething
-atmosphere of modern city life."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You know, doctor, I have a natural antipathy to all swamps and
-morasses."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is right, Richard; preserve a healthy naturalness."
-</p>
-<p>
-"We expected you this morning."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And would go to the station to bring me. Why this ceremony? I am
-here, and I will enjoy for a few weeks the pure, bracing mountain
-air. Our arrangements will be as formerly&mdash;not so, my dear
-friend?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am at your service."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You have, of course, discovered some new points that afford fine
-views?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"If not many, at least one&mdash;the weather cross," answered Frank.
-"A beautiful position. The hill stands out somewhat from the
-range. The whole plain lies before the ravished eyes. At the same
-time, there are things connected with <i>that</i> place that are
-not without their influence on me. They refer to a custom of the
-ultramontanists that clashes with modern ideas; I will have an
-opportunity of seeing whether your opinion coincides with mine."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Very well; since we have already an object for our next
-walk&mdash;and this is according to our old plan&mdash;tomorrow after
-dinner at three o'clock," and saying this he glanced wistfully at
-the old folio. Frank, smiling, observed the delicate hint and
-retired.
-</p>
-<p class="center">To Be Continued.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_652">{652}</a></span>
-<br>
-        <h2>Antiquities of New York.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-It is as true of nations as it is of individuals that they "live
-more in the past and the future than in the present;" and when
-either are young and have a very limited past, their thoughts
-dwell most upon the future. This is one marked difference between
-the peoples of the old world and us on this continent. Our past
-is so small in comparison with theirs, that antiquarian
-societies, so common with them, are quite unknown among us, and
-it is not often that we throw our thoughts back.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet in that respect, as in others, we are daily improving, and we
-begin, now and then, to find something to think upon in the days
-of our forefathers.
-</p>
-<p>
-These thoughts have arisen in our mind from having come across a
-book recently published by the State of New York: "Laws and
-Ordinances of New Netherlands, 1638-1674, compiled and translated
-from the original Dutch records in the office of the Secretary of
-State. Albany, N.Y. E.B. O'Callaghan." From that book a good deal
-can be learned of the manners and customs in our goodly city some
-two hundred years ago, that cannot fail to be interesting.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was in 1621 that the States General of the United Netherlands
-incorporated a West India Company, with power to establish
-colonies in such parts of America as were not already occupied by
-other nations.
-</p>
-<p>
-Under this authority, the company established a colony embracing
-the land from the present State of Maryland to the Connecticut
-River, and called NEW NETHERLAND.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Amsterdam Chamber of the company exercised supreme government
-over this colony until 1664, when it was captured by the English,
-but recovered by the Dutch in 1673, but was finally ceded to the
-English.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was in 1609 that Hendrik Hudson discovered the country, and in
-1623 it was that the West India Company sent its first colony of
-families, who settled at what was then Fort Orange, now Albany,
-and settled a colony of families at New Amsterdam, now New York.
-</p>
-<p>
-The colonial government, including legislative and executive
-powers, was administered by a director-general and council; and
-it is from the laws which they enacted that we can gather much
-knowledge of the manners and customs of our Dutch progenitors and
-from which we now proceed to make some extracts.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-          Slavery.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the 7th of June, 1629, the West India Company granted what we
-would call a charter to all settlers in the new world, but which
-they called "freedoms and exemptions," to all patroons, masters,
-or private persons who would plant colonies in New Netherland.
-</p>
-<p>
-They consisted of thirty-one articles; and among them was that
-which, if it may not be considered the origin, in this country,
-of that slavery which it took us some two hundred and fifty years
-to get rid of, was, by one of the articles, not only tolerated,
-but was actually established, with a covenant on the part of the
-home government to supply the settlers with slaves.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_653">{653}</a></span>
-<p class="center">
-              Article XXX.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The Company will use their endeavors to supply the colonists
-  with as many Blacks as they conveniently can, on the conditions
-  hereafter to be made, in such manner, however, that they shall
-  not be bound to do it for a longer time than they shall think
-  proper."
-</p>
-<p>
-On the 19th of November, 1654, the Amsterdam board allowed the
-importation of negroes direct from Africa, by the ship Witte
-Paert, and on the 6th of August, 1655, the director-general and
-council of New Netherland imposed an <i>ad valorem</i> duty of
-ten per cent on the exportation of any of the slaves brought in
-by that ship.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-           The Yankees.
-</p>
-<p>
-The discord between the quiet, stolid Dutchmen of those days, and
-the restless "Yengees," of whom they had so much dread, soon
-began to show itself, and every once in a while we find a paper
-bomb-shell fired off at them, in the shape of a law, and hitting
-them in a tender spot, by forbidding trade.
-</p>
-<p>
-Take this, the first instance:
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-         "Ordinance
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Of the Director and Council of New Netherland, prohibiting the
-  purchase of produce raised near Fort Hope.&mdash;Passed 3 April,
-  1642.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whereas our territory which we purchased, paid for, and took
-  possession of, provided in the year 1633 with a Blockhouse,
-  Garrison, and Cannon, on the Fresh River of <i>New
-  Netherland</i>, a long time before any Christians were in the
-  said river, hath now, for some years past, been forcibly
-  usurped by some englishmen, and given the name of Hartford,
-  notwithstanding we duly protested against them; who, moreover,
-  treat our people most barbarously, beating them with clubs and
-  mattocks even unto the shedding of blood; cut down our corn,
-  sow the fields by night which our people ploughed by day; haul
-  home by force the hay which was mowed by our people; cast our
-  ploughs into the river, and forcibly impound our horses, cows,
-  and hogs, so that no cruelty, insolence, nor violence remains
-  which is not practised toward us, who yet have treated them
-  with all moderation; Yea, even at great hazard, have redeemed
-  and sent back home their Women, who were carried off by the
-  Indians; And although we are commanded by the States-General,
-  his Highness of Orange, and the Honorable West India Company to
-  maintain our Limits and to assert our Right by every means,
-  which We, also, have the power to do, yet rather have We chose
-  patiently to suffer violence, and to prove by deeds that we are
-  better Christians than they who go about there clothed with
-  such outward show, until in its time the measure shall be
-  entirely full.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Therefore, our order and command provisionally is, & We do
-  hereby Ordain that our Inhabitants of <i>New Netherland</i> be
-  most expressly forbidden from purchasing, either directly or
-  indirectly, by the third or second shipment, or in any manner
-  whatsoever, any produce which has been raised on our land near
-  <i>Fort Hope</i> on the Fresh River, on pain of arbitrary
-  correction, until their rights are acknowledged, and the
-  sellers of the produce which shall arrive from our <i>Fresh
-  River</i> of <i>New Netherland</i> and from <i>New England</i>
-  shall first declare upon oath where the produce has been grown,
-  whereof a certificate shall be given them, and thereupon every
-  one shall be at liberty to buy and to sell."
-</p>
-<p>
-And finally the quarrel went so far as to give rise to the
-following
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-         "Ordinance
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Of the Governor-General and Council of New Netherland further
-  prohibiting the entertainment of Strangers, forbidding
-  intercourse or correspondence with the people of New
-  England.&mdash;Passed, 12 December, 1673.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whereas, it is found by experience that notwithstanding the
-  previously published Ordinance and Edicts, many Strangers, yea
-  enemies of this State, attempt to come within this government
-  without having previously obtained any consent or passport, and
-  have even presumed to show themselves within this city of
-  <i>New Orange</i>; also that many Inhabitants of this Province,
-  losing sight of and forgetting their Oath of Allegiance,
-  presume still daily to correspond, and exchange letters with
-  the Inhabitants of the neighboring colonies of <i>New
-  England</i> and other enemies of this State, whence nothing
-  else can result but great prejudice and loss to this Province,
-  and it is, accordingly, necessary that seasonable provision be
-  made therein.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_654">{654}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Therefore, the Governor-General of <i>New Netherland</i>, by
-  and with the advice of his Council, reviewing the aforesaid
-  Ordinances and Edicts enacted on that subject, have deemed it
-  highly necessary strictly to order and command that all
-  Strangers and others, of what nation or quality soever they may
-  be, who have not as yet bound themselves by Oath and promise of
-  fealty to the present Supreme government of this Province, and
-  have not been received by it as good subjects, do within the
-  space of four and twenty hours from the publication hereof
-  depart from out this province of New Netherland, and further
-  interdicting and forbidding any person, not being actually an
-  inhabitant and subject of this government, from coming within
-  this government without first having obtained due license and
-  passport to that end, on pain and penalty that the contraveners
-  shall not be considered other than open enemies and spies of
-  this State, and consequently be arbitrarily punished as an
-  example to others. And to the end that they may be the more
-  easily discovered and found out, all Inhabitants of this
-  Province are interdicted and forbidden from henceforth
-  harboring or lodging any strangers over night in their houses
-  or dwellings unless they have previously given due
-  communication thereof to their officer or Magistrate before
-  sun-down, under the penalty set forth in the former Edict.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Furthermore, the Inhabitants of this Province are strictly
-  interdicted and forbidden, from this day forward, from holding
-  any correspondence with the neighboring Colonies of <i>New
-  England</i>, and all others actual enemies of our State, much
-  less afford them any supplies of any description, on pain of
-  forfeiting the goods and double the value thereof, likewise
-  from exchanging any letters, of what nature soever they may be,
-  without having obtained previous special consent thereto.
-  Therefore all messengers, skippers, travellers, together with
-  all others whom these may in any wise concern, are most
-  expressly forbidden to take charge of, much less to deliver,
-  any letters coming from the enemy's places, or going thither,
-  but immediately on their arrival to deliver them into the
-  Secretary's office here in order to be duly examined, on pain
-  of being fined One hundred guilders in Beaver, to be paid by
-  the receiver as well as by the deliverer of each letter which
-  contrary to the tenor hereof shall be exchanged or delivered."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-         Their Currency.
-</p>
-<p>
-Gold and silver were scarce among them. The modern device of
-paper money had not then come in vogue, and so they had to use
-wampum&mdash;the Indians' currency or medium of exchange.
-</p>
-<p>
-This was made from oyster-shells, and was worn by the natives as
-ornaments, and had no intrinsic value, but only a conventional
-one. And it seems to have been hard work to keep it up to its
-standard. Every body could make it that could catch oysters, and
-its plenty or scarcity causing a fluctuation of prices, gave them
-a great deal of trouble, especially when their old rock of
-offence, "the Yankees," began to manufacture it and buy away from
-them all they had to sell, for what was actually of no value.
-</p>
-<p>
-So we find every once in a while "Ordinances" passed on the
-subject, which in their quaint and simple way show the state of
-things. Between April 18th, 1641, and December 28th, 1662, we
-find in this book twelve different ordinances on the subject;
-some of them fixing their value, some punishing frauds, some
-making them a legal tender, some declaring them merchandise, some
-providing that they shall be paid out by measure, some exempting
-them from import duty, and some providing for their depreciation.
-</p>
-<p>
-The following extracts will afford an idea of their difficulties
-on the subject.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-         "Resolutions
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Of the Director and Council of New Netherland respecting loose
-  Wampum.&mdash;Passed, 30 November, 1647.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "<i>Resolved</i> and concluded in Council at <i>Fort
-  Amsterdam</i>, that, until further Order, the loose Wampum
-  shall continue current and in circulation only that, in the
-  mean while, all imperfect, broken, or unpierced beads can be
-  picked out, which are declared Bullion, and shall, meantime, be
-  received at the Company's counting-house as heretofore.
-  Provided that the Company, or any one on its part, shall, in
-  return, be at liberty to trade therewith among the Merchants or
-  otter Inhabitants, or in larger parcels, as may be agreed upon
-  and stipulated by any individual, or on behalf of the Company."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_655">{655}</a></span>
-<p class="center">
-          "Ordinance
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Of the Director and Council of <i>New Netherland</i> further
-  regulating the currency.&mdash;Passed 14 September, 1650.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The Director-General and Council of <i>New Netherland</i>, To
-  all those who hear, see, or read these presents, Greeting.
-  Whereas, on the daily complaints of the inhabitants, we
-  experience that our previous Ordinance and Edict relative to
-  the poor strung Wampum, published under date 30 May, A° 1650,
-  for the accommodation and protection of the people, is not
-  observed and obeyed according to our good intention and
-  meaning; but that, on the contrary, such pay, even for small
-  items, is rejected and refused by Shopkeepers, Brewers,
-  Tapsters, Tradespeople, and Laboring men, to the great
-  confusion and inconvenience of the Inhabitants in general,
-  there being, at present, no other currency whereby the
-  Inhabitants can procure from each other small articles of daily
-  trade; for which wishing to provide as much as possible, for
-  the relief and protection of the Inhabitants, the Director and
-  Council do hereby Ordain and command that, in conformity to our
-  previous Ordinance, the poor strung Wampum shall be current and
-  accepted by every one without distinction and exception for
-  small and daily necessary commodities required for
-  housekeeping, as currency to the amount of Twelve guilders and
-  under only, in poor strung wampum; of twelve to twenty-four
-  guilders half and half, that is to say, half poor strung and
-  half good strung Wampum; of twenty guilders to fifty guilders,
-  one third poor strung and two thirds good strung wampum, and in
-  larger sums according to the conditions agreed upon between
-  Buyer and Seller, under a penalty of six guilders for the first
-  time, to be forfeited on refusal by contraveneor hereof; for
-  the second time nine guilders, and for the third time two
-  pounds Flemish and stoppage of his trade and business, pursuant
-  to our previous Edicts.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Thus done and enacted in Council by the Director and Council,
-  this 14 September, 1650, in <i>New Amsterdam</i>."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-           "Ordinance
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Of the Director-General and Council of <i>New Netherland</i>
-  regulating the currency.&mdash;Passed 3 January, 1657.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The Director-General and Council of New Netherland,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "To all those who see or hear these presents read, Greeting,
-  make known.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whereas they, to their great regret, are by their own
-  experience daily informed, and by the manifold complaints of
-  Inhabitants and Strangers importuned, respecting the great,
-  excessive and intolerable dearness of all sorts of necessary
-  commodities and household supplies, the prices of which are
-  enhanced from time to time, principally among other causes, in
-  consequence of the high price of Beaver and other Peltries in
-  this country beyond the value, which, by reason of the great
-  abundance of Wampum, is advanced to ten, eleven and twelve
-  guilders for one Beaver; And Wampum being, for want of Silver
-  and Gold coin, as yet the most general and common currency
-  between man and man, Buyer and Seller, domestic articles and
-  daily necessaries are rated according to that price, and become
-  dearer from time to time; the rather, as not only Merchants,
-  but also, consequently, Shopkeepers, Tradesmen, Brewers,
-  Bakers, Tapsters, and Grocers make a difference of 30, 40, to
-  50 per cent when they sell their wares for Wampum or for
-  Beaver. This tends, then, so far to the serious damage,
-  distress and loss of the common Mechanics, Brewers, Farmers and
-  other good Inhabitants of this Province, that the Superior and
-  inferior magistrates of this Province are blamed, abused and
-  cursed by Strangers and Inhabitants, and the Country in general
-  receives a bad name, while some greedy people do not hesitate
-  to sell the most necessary eatables and drinkables, according
-  to their insatiable avarice; viz., the can of Vinegar at 18 @
-  20 stivers; the can of Oil at 4 @ 5 guilders; the can of French
-  wine at 40 @ 45 stivers; the gill of Brandy at 15 stivers, and
-  two quarts of home brewed Beer, far above its price, at 14@15
-  stivers, &amp;c., which the greater number endeavor to excuse on
-  the ground that they lose a great deal in the counting of the
-  Wampum; that it is partly short and partly long; that they must
-  give 11@12 and more guilders before they can convert the wampum
-  into Beaver."
-</p>
-<p>
-So that, at last, the home government took it up, and in 1659
-they wrote to the council at New Amsterdam, among other things:
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_656">{656}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "From this particular reduction of the Wampum a second general
-  reduction must necessarily follow, if the depreciation thereof
-  is to be prevented. This arises in consequence of the great
-  importation of Wampum from New-England, which barters therewith
-  and carries out of the country not only the best cargoes sent
-  hence, but also a large quantity of beaver and other peltries,
-  whereby the Company is defrauded of its revenues and the
-  merchants here of good returns, while the Factors and
-  inhabitants there remain with chests full of Wampum, which is a
-  currency utterly valueless except among New Netherland Indians
-  only," etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-The rate of depreciation may be discovered from the fact that an
-ordinance passed in April, 1641, fixed it at 4 polished and 5
-unpolished for one stiver, while another, passed in December,
-1662, fixed it at 24 for one stiver; and that in 1650 it was
-fixed at 6 white and 3 black for one stiver, and twelve years
-afterward at 24 white and 12 black for one stiver&mdash;making what
-President Johnson would call a depreciation of 400 per cent in
-that short time.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-              Religion.
-</p>
-<p>
-The government interfered very much in religious matters, seeming
-to aim not so much at protection against molestation as to
-produce conformity of opinion, by making the people view such
-things as the Director and Council did.
-</p>
-<p>
-Between April, 1641, and November, 1673, fourteen ordinances were
-passed concerning Sunday. And between June, 1641, and November,
-1673, there were sixteen ordinances as to religion.
-</p>
-<p>
-As to Sunday, the laws were:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  11 April, 1641.&mdash;"No person shall attempt to tap beer or any
-  other strong drink during divine service, nor use any other
-  measure than that which is in common use at Amsterdam."
-</p>
-<p>
-This law was preceded by a recital:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whereas complaints have been made to us that some of the
-  inhabitants here are in the habit of Tapping Beer during Divine
-  Service, and of making use of small foreign Measures, which
-  tends to the dishonor of religion and the ruin of this state."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  13 May, 1647.&mdash;"None of the Brewers, Tapsters and
-  Tavern-keepers shall on the rest day of the Lord by us called
-  Sunday, before two of the clock when there is no sermon, or,
-  otherwise, before four o'clock in the afternoon, set before,
-  tap or give any people any Wine, Beer or strong liquors of any
-  kind whatever, and under any pretext, be it what it may," etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-That law has this preamble:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whereas we see and observe by experience, the great disorders
-  in which some of our inhabitants indulge in drinking to excess,
-  quarreling, fighting, and smiting, even on the Lord's day of
-  rest, whereof, God help us! we have seen and heard sorrowful
-  instances on last Sunday," etc.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-10 March, 1648.&mdash;After reciting that the former edict is
-disobeyed, they say,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The reason and cause why this our good Edict and well meant
-  Ordinance is not obeyed according to the tenor and purport
-  thereof, are that this sort of business and the profit easily
-  accruing therefrom divert and lead many from their original and
-  primitive calling, occupation and business, to resort to
-  Tavern-keeping, so that nearly the just fourth of the city of
-  New Amsterdam consists of Brandyshops, Tobacco or Beer-houses."
-</p>
-<p>
-And they enact, among other things, that tapsters and
-tavern-keepers shall not
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "sell nor furnish Beer or Liquor to any person, travellers and
-  boarders alone excepted, on the Sunday, before three o'clock in
-  the afternoon, when Divine Service is finished."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_657">{657}</a></span>
-<p>
-29 April, 1648.&mdash;After complaining again of non-observance of
-former laws, they renew and amplify previous edicts, and declare
-that,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "having for the stricter observance thereof, with the preadvice
-  of the Minister of the Gospel, deemed it expedient that a
-  sermon shall be preached from the sacred Scriptures, and the
-  usual prayers and thanksgivings offered from this time forward
-  in the afternoon as well as the forenoon," etc., and forbid all
-  tapping, fishing, hunting, and business during divine service.
-</p>
-<p>
-26 October, 1656.&mdash;Repeating their complaints, they enact an
-ordinance against performing on Sunday any work, such as
-ploughing, mowing, building, etc., and, as they term it,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "much less any lower or unlawful exercise and amusement.
-  Drunkenness, frequenting Taverns or Tippling-houses, Dancing,
-  Playing ball, Cards, Trick-Track, Tennis, Cricket or Nine-pins,
-  going on pleasure parties in a boat, car or wagon, <i>before,
-  between or during Divine Service</i>," and forbidding the sale
-  of liquor "<i>before, between or during the sermons</i>," etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-12 June, 1657.&mdash;They forbid all persons, "of what nation or rank
-he may be," to entertain any company on Sunday or during divine
-service.
-</p>
-<p>
-18 November, 1661.&mdash;They forbid all work on Sunday under "the
-penalty of £1 Flemish for the first time, double as much for the
-second time, and <i>four times double as much</i> for the third
-time." (Silent as to the fourth time.)
-</p>
-<p>
-And they forbid all entertainments in taverns, and any giving
-away or selling any liquor.
-</p>
-<p>
-10 September, 1663.&mdash;The director-general and council of New
-Amsterdam passed an ordinance against which the burgomasters and
-schepens of New Amsterdam rebelled, and which they refused to
-enforce, for the reason that it was "too severe and too much in
-opposition to the Freedoms of Holland."
-</p>
-<p>
-That law extended the former laws to the whole of Sunday from
-sunrise to sunset, and in addition prohibited any riding in cars
-or wagons, any roving in search of nuts or strawberries, and the
-"too unrestrained and excessive playing, shouting and screaming
-of children in the streets."
-</p>
-<p>
-16 June, 1641.&mdash;They began by securing to all Englishmen who
-might settle with them "the free exercise of Religion."
-</p>
-<p>
-16 November, 1644.&mdash;They granted to the town of Hempstead the
-power of using and exercising "the Reformed Religion with the
-Ecclesiastical discipline thereunto belonging."
-</p>
-<p>
-10 October, 1645&mdash;They granted to the town of Flushing the
-"Liberty of Conscience according to the Custom and manner of
-Holland, without molestation or disturbance from any magistrate
-or any other Ecclesiastical minister."
-</p>
-<p>
-19 December, 1645.&mdash;They made the same grant to Gravesend.
-</p>
-<p>
-At a later day a change seems to have come over them, as witness
-the following:
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-         "Ordinance
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Of the Director and Council of New Netherland against
-  Conventicles.&mdash;Passed 1 February, 1656.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whereas the Director and Council of <i>New Netherland</i> are
-  credibly informed and apprized that here and there within this
-  Province not only are Conventicles and Meetings held, but also
-  that some unqualified persons in such Meetings assume the
-  ministerial office, the expounding and explanation of the Holy
-  word of God, without being called or appointed thereto by
-  ecclesiastical or civil authority, which is in direct
-  contravention and opposition to the general Civil and
-  Ecclesiastical order of our Fatherland; besides that many
-  dangerous Heresies and Schisms are to be apprehended from such
-  manner of meetings. Therefore, the Director General and Council
-  aforesaid hereby absolutely and expressly forbid all such
-  conventicles and meetings, whether public or private, differing
-  from the customary and not only lawful but scripturally founded
-  and ordained meetings of the Reformed Divine service, as this
-  is observed and enforced according to the Synod of Dordrecht,"
-  etc.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_658">{658}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p>
-On 21 September, 1662, they enacted that "beside the Reformed
-worship and service, no conventicles or meetings shall be kept in
-the province, whether it be in houses, barnes, ships, barkes, nor
-in the woods nor fields."
-</p>
-<p>
-In December, 1656, they enacted an ordinance containing this,
-among other things:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Further, whenever, early in the morning or after supper in the
-  evening, prayers shall be said, or God's word read, by any one
-  thereunto commissioned, every person, of what quality soever he
-  may be, shall repair to hear it with becoming reverence.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "No man shall raise or bring forward any question or argument
-  on the subject of religion, on pain of being placed on bread
-  and water three days in the ship's galley. And if any
-  difficulties should arise out of the said disputes, the author
-  thereof shall be arbitrarily punished."
-</p>
-<p>
-They repeatedly passed ordinances requiring their officers to be
-of the reformed religion.
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-         "Ordinance
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Of the Director-General and Council of New Netherland
-  prohibiting the bringing of Quakers and other Strollers into
-  New Netherland.&mdash;Passed 17 May, 1663.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The Director-General and Council of New Netherland, To all
-  those who shall see or hear these Presents read, Greeting, make
-  known.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Whereas we daily find that many Vagabonds, Quakers and other
-  Fugitives are, without the previous knowledge and consent of
-  the Director General and Council, conveyed, brought and landed
-  in this Government, and sojourn and remain in the respective
-  Villages of this Province without those bringing them giving
-  notice thereof, or such persons addressing themselves to the
-  government and showing whence they come, as they ought to do,
-  or that they have taken the oath of fidelity the same as other
-  Inhabitants; the Director General and Council, therefore, do
-  hereby Order and command all Skippers, Sloop Captains and
-  others, whosoever they may be, not to convey or bring, much
-  less to land, within this government, any such Vagabonds,
-  Quakers and other Fugitives, whether Men or Women, unless they
-  have first addressed themselves to the government, have given
-  information thereof, and asked and obtained consent on pain of
-  the importers forfeiting a fine of twenty pounds Flemish for
-  every person, whether Man or Woman, whom they will have brought
-  in and landed without the consent or previous Knowledge of the
-  Director General and Council, and, in addition, be obliged
-  immediately to depart out of this government with such
-  persons."
-</p>
-<p>
-17 March, 1664, they ordained that the schoolmasters shall appear
-in church with their scholars, on Wednesday before divine
-service, and be examined after service by the minister and
-elders, "as to what they have committed to memory of the
-Christian Commandments and Catechism, and what progress they have
-made."
-</p>
-<p>
-On 1 October, 1673, 8 November, 1673, and 15 January, 1674, they
-passed ordinances that the sheriff and magistrates, or the schout
-and magistrates, each in his quality, take care that the reformed
-Christian religion be maintained in conformity to the Synod of
-Dordrecht, (or Synod of Dort,) without suffering or permitting
-any other sects attempting any thing contrary thereto, or
-suffering any attempt to be made against it by any other
-sectaries.
-</p>
-<p>
-On 12 November, 1661, they passed a law imposing "a land tax at
-Esopus to defray the expense of building a Minister's House
-there."
-</p>
-<p>
-On 13 February, 1657, the court of Breuckelen (Brooklyn) imposed
-an assessment on that town to pay "the Rev. Minister De J.
-Theodorus Polhemius fl 300," as a supplement of his promised
-salary and yearly allowance.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-         Miscellaneous.
-</p>
-<p>
-A few more instances of the manner in which our staid and quiet
-Dutch progenitors managed their affairs will suffice for this
-paper, already long enough.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_659">{659}</a></span>
-<p>
-<i>The Ferry</i>.&mdash;In an ordinance regulating the ferry at the
-Manhattans, passed 1 July, 1654, it was among other things
-enacted:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Item. The Lessee shall be bound to accommodate the passengers
-  on summer days only from 5 O'clock in the morning till 8
-  O'clock in the evening, provided the windmill [Footnote 167]
-  hath not taken in its sail.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 167: The windmill here spoken of stood on the old
-    Battery, and seemed to serve as a barometer or indicator of
-    bad weather to all the people.]
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Item. The Lessee shall receive ordinary Ferriage during the
-  Winter from 7 O'clock in the morning to 5 O'clock in the
-  evening; but he shall not be bound, except he please, to convey
-  any one over in a tempest, or when the windmill hath lowered
-  its sail in consequence of storm or otherwise."
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Wages</i>.&mdash;In 1653, the director and council of New
-Netherland passed an ordinance fixing the rate of wages to be
-paid to carpenters, masons, etc. But the directors at Amsterdam
-disapproved of it "as impracticable."
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Fast Driving</i>.&mdash;Here, now, is a law which would illy enough
-suit our times, and which shows us how queer were the times when
-such a regulation could exist.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-         "Ordinance
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Of the Director and Council of New Netherland regulating the
-  driving of Wagons, Carts, etc., in New Amsterdam.&mdash;Passed 27
-  June, 1652.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The Director-General and Council of <i>New Netherland</i>, in
-  order to prevent accidents, do hereby Ordain that no Wagons,
-  Carts or Sleighs shall be run, rode or driven at a gallop
-  within this city of <i>New Amsterdam;</i> that the drivers and
-  conductors of all Wagons, Carts and Sleighs within this city
-  shall not sit or stand on them, but now henceforth within this
-  City (the Broad Highway alone excepted) shall walk by the
-  Wagons, Carts or Sleighs, and so take and lead the horses."
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Danger from Fire</i>s.&mdash;They passed quite a number of
-ordinances on this subject.
-</p>
-<p>
-In January, 1648, they recite that the people do not keep their
-chimneys clean, whereby "greater damage is to be expected in
-future from fire, the rather as the houses here in New Amsterdam
-are, for the most part, built of wood, and thatched with reed,
-beside which the chimneys of some of the houses are of wood,
-which is most dangerous;" and they forbid any more wooden
-chimneys, but those already built may remain.
-</p>
-<p>
-They appoint as fire wardens to see that the chimneys are kept
-clean, "from the Hon. Council, Commissary Adriaen D'Keyser; from
-the commonalty, Thomas Hall, Marten Crigier and George Wolsey."
-</p>
-<p>
-On 28 September, 1648, they direct the fire wardens to visit
-every house, "and see that every one is keeping his chimney
-properly clean by sweeping."
-</p>
-<p>
-And finally, on 15 December, 1657, they passed a law which
-complains, as usual, of the non-observance of former laws, and
-recites that "divers calamities and accidents have been caused,
-and are still to be apprehended, from fire; yea, a total ruin of
-this city, inasmuch as it daily begins to be compactly built,"
-etc.;
-</p>
-<p>
-And enact that "all thatched roofs and wooden chimneys, Hay ricks
-and hay stacks within this city shall be broken up, and removed
-within the time of four consecutive months," "to be promptly put
-in execution for every house, whether small or large, Hay rick,
-or hay stack, or wooden chimney, hen houses, or hog pens," etc.;
-</p>
-<p>
-And then, after reciting that "whereas, in all well ordered
-Cities and Towns it is customary that Fire Buckets, Ladders, and
-Hooks be found provided about the corner the streets and in
-public houses," they authorize the burgomaster, "to send by the
-first opportunity to Fatherland for one hundred to 150 Leather
-Fire Buckets," etc.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_660">{660}</a></span>
-<p>
-<i>Marriages</i>.&mdash;On 15 January, 1658, after reciting that "the
-Director General and Council not only are informed, but have even
-seen and remarked that some persons, after the proclamation and
-publication for the third time of their bans, or intention of
-marriage, do not proceed further with the solemnization of their
-marriage, as they ought, but postpone it from time to time, not
-only weeks, but some months, which is directly contrary to, and
-in contravention of, the good order and custom of our
-Fatherland:"
-</p>
-<p>
-They enact that marriage must be solemnized within one month
-after the last publication, or appear in council and show cause:
-</p>
-<p>
-And that "no man and woman shall be at liberty to keep house as
-married persons before and until they are lawfully married, on
-pain of forfeiting one hundred guilders, more or less, as their
-quality shall be found to warrant, and all such persons may be
-amerced anew therefor every month by the officer, according to
-the order and the custom of our Fatherland."
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-            <h2>The Charms Of Nativity.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-In this day, when a spirit of restlessness seems to have seized
-upon the various peoples of the world, and operates to produce
-great movements from one locality to another, or from one country
-to another, we propose to devote some pages to the discussion of
-this interesting subject. The world may be said to be grossly
-material; for surely no land of flowering beauty, however rich in
-the wealth of nature's charms, can, to a sentimental and
-spiritual soul, be at all comparable to those heavenly flowers of
-love which bloom in the vicinage in which we were reared. In
-leaving a cold and bleak country even, we may go to one where
-nature has stamped her own warmth, as she is sure to do, on the
-hearts of her inhabitants; but those scenes to which we were
-earliest used are, by far, dearer to the sensitive soul, than
-others which, in distant lands, crop out more gorgeously; and the
-playmates, the associates of our hearts, our early lives, even
-though it may be in the very chill and frost of barren rocks and
-dreary plains, are far dearer to us than the welcome of
-strangers, let it be as warm and as sunny as genial and glowing
-hearts can make it. The stranger, with soul, in a strange land,
-has fully felt the truth of these remarks. These are
-considerations which should operate powerfully with us to bind us
-to our homes and our own communities. But the benefits of staying
-at home, or of enlarging the area of "civilization" and of
-settlement but slowly, are not confined, by any means, to our
-feelings. To prevent the loneliness which we naturally feel in a
-strange country is not the only object to be gained by migrating,
-when we migrate at all, slowly, and but little at a time, (say a
-few miles only,) and by making our habitations as permanent as
-possible. There are, perhaps, weightier considerations, even,
-which should govern in the matter than the loneliness and the
-estrangement which we must suffer for years, when we make distant
-removals.
-</p>
-<p>
-Home is, in its full meaning, a most heavenly word. It is a word
-that is allied with every principle of our natures. It is the
-nursery in which our spirits are trained. It is the seat of our
-religion and the abode of our loves. There can be to us but one
-home, that is, in the full sense of the term.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_661">{661}</a></span>
-And that home is a locality, a place, where, with the kindred
-ideas, elements, and social and spiritual partnerships of our
-earlier lives and beings, we can enjoy life pure and perfect as
-we at first received it. Any local or social estrangements from
-these pure elements of life, no matter how complete the
-surrounding appointments of comfort may seem to be which draw us
-away from them, do not constitute and make up the bulk of what,
-properly, is to the human spirit to be considered home.
-</p>
-<p>
-The loss of home, then, by removal to a distance from those
-earlier scenes, localities, peoples, ideas, and customs of which
-we are a part, is a far greater loss to us, considered in the
-aggregate, than is at first apparent by any mere feelings of
-loneliness or estrangement which we may suffer in a strange
-community. Because, while these feelings undoubtedly indicate to
-us the part of our lives with which we have parted in leaving
-those scenes and associations of which we were a part, they do
-not always reflect back to us the painful vacuum which is created
-at home by our absence; and therefore, our feelings are not
-always an accurate measurement of the full injury done by the
-detaching of human elements from their proper places, to be
-thereafter located in strange and distant lands. And it may
-properly be said that the suffering of these feelings by those
-who have removed is not the greatest injury done by such
-removals. For, while feelings represent some of the injury done
-to us by such removals, they certainly do not represent all of
-it. The strongest powers of a man, naturally considered, are in
-the locality or in the society in which he was raised. He may, in
-distant communities, where social life is just taking root, or
-where, indeed, it has already taken root, be, to outward
-appearances, a more prominent person than at home, where he was
-raised. He may be called into public life oftener, and be made to
-assume offices of trust which at home he never would have
-assumed, and, perhaps, never could have assumed. But, after all,
-he is really not so important a personage in his new locality,
-and in his new offices, as he would have been at home in his
-natural offices. This statement may appear, to some minds,
-paradoxical. But it really is not so, examined by the light and
-the law of uses and of natural adaptations. We shall not go into
-any extended discussion, however, of this particular question,
-but we shall assume, at the outset, that the circle of
-"civilization" or of settlement, should be but slowly and
-gradually enlarged. There are a great many strong reasons for
-this plea of widening and enlarging the circle of "civilization"
-or of settlement. The same reasons which operate to show that no
-single individual can be as useful (in the scale of nature) in a
-community distant and remote from his birthplace, as he could in
-serving out his natural uses in his birthplace, will operate
-equally to show that such distant removals are not healthy for
-whole communities of people. Our border States, some of which are
-very far out from the centres of settlement, have been peopled by
-persons leaving the older and denser communities where they were
-born and raised, and repairing to these new "settlements." The
-effect of it has been, in many instances, to change the wheel of
-individual fortune, and to place some in high positions who, in
-their native communities, would never have reached those
-positions. But we shall argue that this result has not always
-been beneficial to the parties so elevated.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_662">{662}</a></span>
-The natural growth of communities, that is, the growth by
-enlarging the circle of settlement but slowly and connectedly, is
-sustained by every healthy law of economy. Even in the gross
-matter of material wealth, the bulk of the people are better off
-in an old than in a new community. We venture the assertion that
-this remark will hold good even as between the outer border
-States of the West, and the inhabitants of those countries from
-whose populations these States have, in a large measure, been
-settled. But it will especially hold true as between the people
-of those outer border States and the people of a corresponding
-class of our older States.
-</p>
-<p>
-But what is the moral exhibit? What do the facts here prove? They
-prove, incontestably, that the standard of law, of morals, of
-religion, and of society, in all the vast multitude of its
-meaning, is, in the "new settlements," incomparably below what it
-is in the old communities. These are grave proofs, and of
-importance enough, in our judgment, to settle a national policy
-against the building up of new communities at great distances
-from the old ones.
-</p>
-<p>
-If it were physically possible to detach one half of the
-territory of an old state, and to send the detached portion, with
-its entire population, to some distant and remote country, and
-there locate it, even this huge mass of matter and of peoples
-would greatly suffer by the shock of the new situation. The earth
-has its affinities as well as people have theirs, and no
-considerable portion of the earth (that is, if such a thing were
-possible at all) could be detached from its proper place, where
-all of its connections are natural and healthy, and could be
-transported to another portion of the globe where the materials
-and the fashions of nature are not exactly of the same kind,
-without suffering by the change. How much more, then, will human
-beings, who are more subject to influences, suffer by a
-corresponding change? The laws of affinity and of sympathy must
-be preserved in the commonest things even; and if such a change
-as we have spoken of were possible in any considerable portion of
-the earth's surface, the peoples carried along with the detached
-portion would, for a time, have the same laws, the same customs,
-the same religions&mdash;would see the same scenery, and would, to
-some extent, breathe the same air to which they had all along
-been accustomed; but, in the course of time, they would find
-themselves laboring and struggling in full sympathy with the
-earth so detached for sympathy with the new objects and new
-external surroundings of the new situation, until a perceptible
-change would take place in their feelings, and in the very ardor
-of their religious worships.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have put the case in this strong form to show what will be
-done by change. Change in one thing necessarily involves change
-in another thing. We cannot change our habitations and our
-abodes, without also changing all in us which is peculiar to
-locality and the law of locality; and in this alone there is a
-large volume of life. That society is always the best which holds
-the closest together, and in which the work of adaptation and
-assimilation has been carried on the longest between its members.
-The superior frame of English society, which is the growth of an
-old community, and the sturdy world of the English people, will
-demonstrate this. There is a certain morality in locality, too,
-and the morality developed by a particular locality is always the
-healthiest for its people. We do not, however, mean to say that
-the morality of locality is <i>sui generis</i>&mdash;that it is
-something which is peculiar to particular localities independent
-of the people of those localities.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_663">{663}</a></span>
-This is an absurdity which we will not utter. But we merely mean
-to say that the morality of localities, or of the people of
-particular localities, is influenced, more or less, by the
-surrounding circumstances of locality. This remark will be
-strongly verified in the different social habits and moral
-sentiments of people whose occupation, from natural causes,
-differs; circumstances, for instance, of different situation,
-such as make some people nautical and seafaring, while others are
-agricultural and domestic. It is in this wise that locality may
-be said to have its morality, and that the peculiar phases of
-morality developed by the natural and unavoidable circumstances
-of situation are the best for the people of that locality. This
-is a proposition which we imagine no one will dispute. But there
-are very often carried into a particular locality certain phases
-of morality, or rather the want of it, which have no connection
-with the locality, and with which the genius of the locality has
-nothing to do. These are positive conditions of vice and
-immorality which may be engendered in any community.
-</p>
-<p>
-Sensibilities are the most delicate and refined things
-conceivable. They are the result of the most delicate nurture of
-the feelings, the associations, and the relationships of life.
-The peculiar modes of association of a people&mdash;the peculiar frame
-and structure of their domestic relationships&mdash;has a great deal
-to do with the type and kind of their sensibilities. In a new
-country, where everything is rough, the sensibilities cannot be
-as nice and as refined as in an older community where they are
-nursed. Sensibilities, then, depend for their flexibility, and
-for the grain of their qualities, on the fineness&mdash;on the
-niceness&mdash;of the social food on which they have been fed. This is
-constantly being illustrated to us in the treatment of animals,
-even, which certainly have sensibilities of a certain kind.
-</p>
-<p>
-Where the finer threads of society, then, are preserved, and
-where there are close-knit sympathies between the people, without
-too much of the rough work of a rough country to harden them and
-to dry up the fountains of the sensibilities, we may always there
-expect to find the flowers of love blooming in the greatest
-abundance. New countries, then, are not as favorable to the
-development of these feelings as older ones are, and the moral
-havoc in such countries is, usually, very great. But, apart from
-the rough circumstances of a new country, which have upon the
-feelings a hardening effect, the mental sensibilities are greatly
-influenced by scenery, and by the natural effect of air,
-temperature, etc. These refined elements are just as much a part
-of the mental food on which we feed as anything else is. All our
-ideas of comfort, of beauty, and of healthiness do not come from
-artificial surroundings and from the frame-work of society which
-we may have constructed. Mental emotions are excited in us by
-scenery; and that of the particular kind to which we have been
-used, though in reality it may, to some extent, be barren and
-bleak, is to us the most charming. The appearance of things in
-nature is indissolubly associated with our earlier lives,
-memories, incidents, occurrences, and sentiments; and so we, in
-the very nature of things, must love this earlier record better
-than any subsequent one which we may make. It necessarily follows
-that we love those peculiar features in nature the best which are
-the closest associated with our earlier experiences of life.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_664">{664}</a></span>
-The analyzing spirit will detect, at a slight glance, even the
-minute and particular differences between the outward features of
-different localities. The eye of the student of nature will at
-once perceive the smallest shades of difference in the leaves of
-trees of the same class in different localities. To the sensitive
-mind the rain, even, of different localities will have a
-different spirit, and its falling will make a different
-impression upon the mind. We are a wonderfully constructed
-battery, and the effect of these manifold things in nature upon
-the organism cannot be estimated, or correctly judged of, by any
-but those who, by living in new and strange countries, have had
-full experience of it. The chemistry of the soul is more
-marvellous than that of flesh and matter, and the effect of
-scenery, of air, of the spirit of the air, and of all the vast
-and grand combinations of matter on the brain, and on the life
-principles of man, cannot be judged of until, to him, some
-foreign country has written its strange history on his organism,
-and he discovers that, though in reality he is the same
-individual, still he does not see nature through the same eyes
-through which he was wont to see it, and does not feel its
-refreshing spirit as he was wont to feel it. These are some of
-the sad mental impressions made by great changes from one distant
-locality to another. Could anything be more hurtful or injurious
-to the human spirit? Could anything be more obliterative of
-morality, than not to respect and act out, every day of our
-lives, its sacred lessons in close connection with those old
-school associations with which we linked life the fondest, and
-through which we enjoyed it the dearest? The early dawn as it
-came to us shaded by the hills and the forests common to the
-localities in which we were born and reared; our parting with the
-great companion of the day, influenced by the same surroundings;
-the familiar notes of the night-birds common to our localities;
-the peculiarities of the very gusts of wind there; the peculiar
-haze of the atmosphere; the methods in which the very trees droop
-their branches; these, these are all familiar scenes and things
-to us all, and are, we may say, the school-house associates of
-our earlier lives, when our spirits were first learning the great
-lessons of life&mdash;those lessons under which life in us was
-organized and under which it has spread its richest and its
-grandest panorama. Change these localities and these scenes, and
-we feel as though we had parted with dear friends whose
-association is necessary to our lives, and for years afterward,
-they form, in our minds, an ever present picture of their
-appearance. These familiar scenes are the old oaken trees, so to
-speak, under whose umbrageous bowers we learned our first lessons
-of virtue and of life; and we cannot give them up, and part from
-them, without also surrendering some of the sacred lessons which,
-in their midst and in their hallowed shadow, we learned. But,
-throughout, the parting with home, and going into new localities,
-makes a new era in our lives. The village boy, who is the object
-of charity, and who has no ties to bind him but those of the
-guardian public, feels it. He even feels, when he parts with the
-dear scenes of his nativity, almost as though he had taken leave
-of the very God, whom he had been taught to worship, and that he
-lay launched out upon a great wide ocean of uncertainties, there
-to hunt for another God, and other friends. How must it, then, be
-with those who are a part of the household and the inheritance of
-human affections? Mother, father, brothers and sisters are
-gathered for the sad parting.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_665">{665}</a></span>
-Tears of deep grief fall thick and fast. There is, indeed,
-occasion for them. The heir of the possession, or the mate of
-fraternal friendship and love, is about to become a stranger. He
-is about to seek a home! (ah! sad word, in this connection,) it
-may be in the midst of olive-groves and of vineyards&mdash;away from
-the home of his inheritance, and the family are summoned to
-bemoan their loss. Years are to pass between him and them before
-they meet again, and when they do meet they are to each other
-strangers. This is indeed a sad picture. Can the growth and the
-building up of "a new country" compensate for it? I say not. I
-say that the planting of empire even, in the name and under the
-titles of the home government, it may be in some grandly tropical
-country, will not repay for these losses and for these
-sacrifices. Political grandeur is not the only object to be
-attained in this world. In fact, it is but an epitome of the
-grand and the beautiful objects of life. The comforts of home,
-and its solid connections, are worth more to us than all the
-offices in the world could be without them. And how few are there
-who nowadays appreciate and enjoy the comforts of home, even in
-their own natural communities, who are weighed down with the
-shackles and the plunder of office? How much more deplorable,
-then, the fate of the poor office-holder at a distance from his
-natural home, and those associates of his early life, found
-nowhere outside of home, which make life agreeable, and give to
-it its charms and its zest? His fate must indeed be pitiable and
-deplorable in the extreme. It is only, then, viewed generally, in
-the interests "of the public," (a most false "public interest,")
-that we heretofore have been enabled to find so much heroism in
-the spirit of venture and of distant emigration that the almost
-entire press of the country have lauded it, and have praised it
-"as a spirit of public enterprise;" which praise has done much
-toward exciting in the people of the world that restlessness and
-feverish spirit of excitement, which has led so many men and
-families to leave their natural attachments, and to seek location
-either in foreign and distant countries, or in States, at least,
-remote from those in which they were reared. These removals have
-always, when viewed in a moral and social light, been more
-productive of harm to the parties concerned than of good. Avoid
-them, in the future, would be our earnest advice to all good
-people. The best and greatest men of the world have invariably
-staid at home.
-</p>
-<p>
-But are not the boundaries of civilization to be extended, may be
-asked? Most assuredly they are; but only slowly and by degrees,
-like waves as they spread and enlarge from a centre of disturbed
-waters. This is, undoubtedly, the true method of enlarging the
-area of settlement and of "civilization."
-</p>
-<p>
-The parties immediately concerned are not alone the parties
-injured by distant removals. They affect, more or less, the world
-at large. The bad morals, engendered by innumerable people
-leaving their homes, where the sediments of society have settled
-to the bottom, and repairing to new and remote localities where
-there is no strongly constructed web of society, are not confined
-alone to the localities where the social connections are loose;
-but they spread like some terrible plague, and seize upon the
-minds of people of the denser and older communities.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_666">{666}</a></span>
-A reciprocal interchange in morals is finally established between
-these remote and unlike communities, until the tone of the one is
-measurably improved, while that of the other is gradually
-reduced, and made worse by the interchange than it was before.
-These are some of the damaging effects of "new settlements," at a
-distance from the older ones. The law perfected is to be found
-only in the close and tight connections of society, with all of
-the social interests well defined, and with social rights so
-clear that one person will not interfere with those of another.
-This degree of social security and comfort is the perfection of
-the law; and no civilized government has any interest in
-upholding a system of "settlement" and of colonization which
-impairs the strength of the social structure.
-</p>
-<p>
-Society has been built under the guardianship of the church, and
-any system either of "settlement," or of politics, which
-threatens the integrity of society, is against the interests of
-government, and equally against the interests of the Christian
-religion. Government is the secular means which we employ to
-enforce those wholesome moral inspirations of the church which
-have constructed society on sure foundations. Anything which
-attacks this wholesome system is at war with the Christian
-religion, and, consequently, against the higher civilization of
-the age. The sacred affinities and congenialities of home should
-not be disturbed, and society debauched, by a mania amongst the
-people for separations and removals. "Those whom God hath joined
-together let no man put asunder," applies also to the firm
-welding together of those whose lots he has made similar by
-nature, as it does to that holy matrimonial alliance by which a
-man takes to himself a consort and a mate, and by which a woman
-takes to herself a husband. That government is not truly and
-reliably built on the foundations of the Christian religion which
-disregards any of these sound maxims of social life, and which
-makes provision for scattering those members of society who are
-the most natural to each other, and which holds out to them the
-very strongest inducements to scatter and to form new
-associations. Such is certainly not a healthy law of society, and
-is in direct contravention of the great natural order. We must
-pay attention, in this as in all other things, to the
-associations made by nature. It is a monstrosity to suppose that
-there is not power enough in nature to adapt those to each other
-who were born together. It is a faith in this sort of power which
-associates people together in family groups, and which upholds
-the vast system of paternal and fraternal relations established
-throughout the world. If it were not for the belief in the
-perfect natural adaptation to each other of persons born of the
-same parents, we would not have so strong a system for rearing
-them together, and for imposing upon those who are responsible
-for their being so large a duty to keep them together whilst
-taking care of them. Nature, it is true, would suggest this duty,
-but society has strengthened it. It is the perfect fitness,
-naturalness, and adaptation of beings for each other, who were
-born together, which makes the family system strong, and which
-imposes upon parents the moral duty of keeping their offspring
-together while they take care of them; by which means the
-beautiful and sacred relations of brother and sister are
-established in something more than in the mere name. But we will
-not discuss a proposition which is so plain. It is not necessary
-for us to do it. The main feature which, in this connection, it
-is the most necessary for us to notice, is the necessity for some
-system by which violent separations between members of the same
-community and family may be avoided, and by which society may be
-strengthened in its foundations.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_667">{667}</a></span>
-For, if these separations tend, as they most assuredly do, to the
-weakening of the family ties, it is necessary for us to take some
-strong measures in order to bind families more closely together;
-or else, the whole system of society, through these very means of
-neglect, will ultimately be disorganized, and will go to pieces.
-Indeed, we are rather verging on such a condition in this country
-now. We have what we call homes, it is true; but we now have
-really very little of the true family system. Nearly one half of
-the time of the younger members of the family&mdash;if not more&mdash;is
-not now spent, in the great majority of cases, under the paternal
-roof; and there is now in American society a perfect mania for
-being anywhere else except at home, and there may be said to be
-no family law. This is certainly a most deplorable state of
-things, and if pushed to further extremes, will ultimately
-disorganize society altogether. Whenever that may be done,
-government will then be impossible. So it behooves the public men
-of this country to look about for some remedy for this most
-distressing evil. Where can it be found? is the important inquiry
-of to-day. Our opinion is, that emigration, the restless spirit
-of movement, which our system of legislation has developed, is
-the fruitful source of the evil, and consequently, to correct it,
-we must change our migratory habits and policy. We have organized
-too many "territories," and have encouraged the building of too
-many railroads in far distant and remote regions from the centres
-of settlement, thereby causing our people to emigrate and to move
-about from one place to another. We have not sufficiently
-encouraged stability in the people. We have pursued a course of
-legislation which has made them restless, speculative, and
-venturesome. In this way we have not developed the real wealth
-which we might have developed had our people staid at home, and
-preserved their even, temperate avocations. But the material
-injury done by this system of removals has not been the principal
-evil of it by any means. Society has been unhinged by it. The
-strong attachments of home have been violently rent asunder, and
-by that means, our people have been compelled to look for their
-amusements, their enjoyments, and their entertainments, more in
-public than in private. This has had upon their dispositions,
-their habits, and their morals a most unbalancing effect, until
-now very little indeed is held by them to be any longer secured.
-These are the gigantic evils of the day with which we now have to
-battle, and the important question of the hour is, How are they
-to be met?
-</p>
-<p>
-The question is much more easily asked than answered. A huge evil
-is upon us, however, and we must devise ways of ridding ourselves
-of it. Indeed, we do but develop the strength of the human, by
-devising means for the overthrow&mdash;the complete overthrow&mdash;of all
-of our evil conditions. No condition, then, however bad, may be
-supposed to be too gigantic for our efforts. Let us but keep
-steadily in view the great and important aims of life, and we
-certainly can make all else succumb to them. In working out the
-great problem of life, we must expect often to have to go back,
-and work it over again. We must often undo much of the work which
-we may suppose ourselves to have done, and must do it over again,
-in order to avoid errors and to correct mistakes.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_668">{668}</a></span>
-It may be a hard task for us to perform; but nevertheless, we
-must do it. We know that there is a common error that in national
-affairs God is at the helm, and that we cannot steer wrong; that
-everything that has been done in the national "destiny" has been
-rightly done, and that God is certainly with us there in every
-step that we may take. This is certainly a most fatal error. God
-is no more with us in our national course than he is in our
-individual business, and in this we very often find it necessary
-to retrace our steps, and to correct errors. If we were to accept
-every individual misfortune, and every individual piece of bad
-management, as the direct work of God, and should make no effort
-to correct it, our private fortunes would be in a most deplorable
-condition. Without, then, being irreverent, we must recognize God
-in ourselves, in our national as well as in our individual
-matters, and must understand that good results are invariably the
-offspring of good motives and of good efforts, and that bad
-results are invariably the offspring of bad motives and bad
-efforts. We must understand this, and we must make results the
-guide and the criterion of divine will and divine favor. If
-results are good, we must suppose that God favors them; if they
-are bad, we must suppose that he disapproves them; and, as we
-honor him, we must set about correcting them. This, in my
-judgment, is the true criterion by which to judge of the divine
-will and the divine favor. Under this rule, then, we are at
-liberty, and we are expected to scrutinize every act of national
-conduct, and to see whether or not it is full of the seeds of
-good results; and if we find that it is not, then, at whatever
-cost to us the thing may have been done, to expunge it, and
-correct the error. This is sound national wisdom, as it would be
-sound individual wisdom. We have, then, already, too many
-railroads extending into far, remote regions of our country,
-distant from the centres of settlement, inviting our people to
-leave their homes and their families, and to emigrate in quest of
-fortune and of new honors. These invitations by our government
-are like so many snares set by the tempter to tempt us into sin
-and wickedness. I would say that all of the sacred interests of
-society would dictate to us the policy of abandoning the building
-of these roads, and equally to abandon the policy of organizing
-"new territories," to thereby tempt our people to hunt for new
-fields of "settlement." Let us make that strong which we already
-have. Let us refine and civilize as we go, and let us make but
-slow haste in extending the boundaries of our "settlements." This
-would seem, to our mind, to be the suggestion of wisdom. We must
-not conclude, either, that because money has been spent, and
-labor has been performed, that therefore we may not abandon
-altogether huge enterprises of "settlement" which have already
-been begun, and that our people now in remote "settlements" may
-not, in a great measure, return to their former homes. Such a
-course, undertaken on a large scale, might be productive of the
-best results, and perhaps, in the course of time, would be. But
-we must not anticipate too much. We must reach this proposition
-by degrees. We must, in a matter so grave as this, be, as in the
-process of settlement, slow. We must not proceed with it too
-fast.
-</p>
-<p>
-The degrees of civilization are remote from each other. Indeed,
-government would be of but little use if it were not productive
-of the best results, where it is applied in the best spirit and
-under the soundest administration.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_669">{669}</a></span>
-We cannot, from the very nature of the circumstances, expect
-these results for it in distant and remote regions from the
-centres of settlement, where the population is sparse, and where,
-on account of the formidable difficulties of a new country and
-new fields of labor, there is but little time on the part of the
-people to devote to social improvements. These are difficulties,
-certainly, to be considered, in estimating the scale of
-civilization of a people. We naturally look for a much healthier
-tone in an old community than we do in a new one. In an old
-community there is a much larger surface from which to choose an
-occupation, and the various interests of society are much better
-connected than they are in the new communities. These are
-important things to be considered by the adventurer after a
-home&mdash;if so paradoxical a thing is to be allowed as that a home
-may be found by adventure! In fact, the thing is impossible.
-Adventure can never make a home. A home is the product of
-continuing possession, and of careful culture. It is not
-necessarily a particular house, or a particular piece of land,
-which has been in the same hands for generations, which makes a
-home. But it is a continuous abiding of the same family and its
-members for several generations in the same neighborhood, the
-same locality, which makes, in the fullest sense, a home. They
-are then a part&mdash;incorporated as such by nature&mdash;of the community
-and of the locality in which they may chance to dwell. It is
-this, more than the continuous possession of a particular house
-or a particular piece of ground, which makes home. The woods, the
-streams, the outer walls of nature to which people have been
-accustomed, must have been the same, or similar and kindred ones,
-for at least several generations, in order to make for them a
-home. Where this has been the case, there nature is fully
-incorporated in those beings. There is not, then, in their own
-peculiar locality, a leaf, or a tree, or a flower, or a bird,
-that is not fully understood, and interiorly possessed by them.
-Through the manifold processes of nature, they, in this time,
-have made acquaintance with things in nature, and have become a
-much stronger part of the creation. Any traveller will tell us
-that, when he first begins to wander, things in nature at a
-distance from home appear strange to him, and that he never does
-become as well acquainted with them as he is with those
-corresponding things which he has left behind, that have been not
-only his, but also the familiar associates of his parents before
-him. This, we will venture to say, will be the testimony of all
-travellers. There is, in this testimony, a great lesson to be
-learned by us. It is the lesson that, if we want to be a
-part&mdash;absolutely a part&mdash;of creation, so as to have immediately
-under our control, at all times, a commanding sense and
-consciousness of our power in nature, and over it, as a part of
-it, we must stay where our organisms command the elements the
-best, and where, by long residence, they have become the strong
-masters of things in nature. This is certainly no new philosophy.
-If it has not been fully heretofore eliminated as a philosophy,
-in this form, it certainly has in other forms, just as
-substantial and far more practical. What are our feelings
-connected with our return to the earth but a confirmation of this
-doctrine? Every man who has a soul in him loves his own native
-soil; and when the solemn hour of dissolution approaches, he
-feels, as one of the last of his earthly hopes, that he would
-like to be gathered to the graves of his fathers, in the land of
-his and of their wanderings.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_670">{670}</a></span>
-This is an event which is capable of testing the matter, and of
-proving the attractions which our earliest homes have for our
-spirits. When all nature is dissolving in us, we naturally look
-for support to those localities where life was organized in us,
-and which have fortified us the strongest with those forces on
-which we must rely the most to ward off dissolution. Thus our
-minds and our affections are naturally carried back to the land
-of our birth, in a way to make us love it above all other spots
-of earth, and in a way to cause us to desire it as our last
-resting-place. If these last trials do not show to the human
-spirit&mdash;drawing upon all of its resources for support&mdash;where its
-chief strength in nature lies, whether in the new home, or the
-old one, then perhaps our theory that we lose many of the
-essential elements of life by migrating, and by going to a great
-distance from the home of our nativity, may not, indeed, be a
-sound one. But we must take the case of the normal spirit to
-prove it. The moods of the spirit that has been debauched and
-made common; that has lost the love of its sanctuaries by
-dishonorable and aimless wanderings, are not a fair test of our
-philosophy. We must take some spirit who has gone into a distant
-land seeking fortune, with the love of home in his heart, and
-with the responsibilities of family upon him; and let the trial
-of dissolution come upon him, even after years of absence, and
-see if his last thoughts are not directed to the home of his
-childhood, and if the last appeals which he makes in his mind to
-nature to save him are not addressed to the genius, the
-localities, the scenes, the cherished associations, of his
-earlier home. This must be so. It is unavoidable. The cool stream
-from which we drank in our boyhood thirst often has power, when
-vividly called to mind, to abate the rage of some terrible fever;
-and the maternal hand, as we see it in imagination laid upon us,
-long years, even, after that hand has been stilled, has power to
-soothe us. Thus fancy makes medicine from the past, and the
-chosen spots of the spirit's earlier wanderings are the places to
-which she goes for her healing arts.
-</p>
-<p>
-The maternal breast has attractions for us as long as we live.
-Its sorrows are our sorrows, and it is upon the same principle
-and by the same laws of correspondence that we love our earlier
-homes the best, and that they have over our morals a stronger
-control and a more salutary influence than any other society or
-community can have. In fact, a removal from our own community and
-our own home is too often looked upon as a license to do as we
-please, and is interpreted as a relaxing of the social traces in
-which we had been bound. It is not worth while, at present, to
-explore the philosophy of this fact, but it is a fact, and we
-therefore deal with it accordingly. We know that the white man is
-the representative of civilization, and that he carries with him
-a Christian inheritance wherever he goes. We know that in any
-situation in which he may be placed, he will strive to ally
-himself with his God. We know that he has fixed the cross of his
-worship upon many a bleak mountain of this land, and that he has
-planted the vineyard of peace in the remote regions of the
-wilderness. We know that he has established government, erected
-schools, built churches, and planted the seeds of society in far
-and distant regions from the centres of civilization. We know all
-this, and yet we know, or believe, that if this same potent mass
-of human beings, thus scattered and toiling separate and apart
-from each other, had held together under the strong covenants of
-a powerful society, and had advanced in a body to occupy and
-possess the land, holding together at every step, the rainbow of
-God's favor would have spanned over them in such luminous light
-that we of this continent would now have been a strong and
-powerful and united people, in the enjoyment of a civilization
-and in the possession of a purity of social life neither enjoyed
-nor possessed by any other people on the earth.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_671">{671}</a></span>
-<p>
-It may be supposed by some that this position assumes too much;
-but our own opinion is, that it may be brought almost down to a
-demonstration. Such a social wreck as follows the violent
-segregation of members of the same family or community, to form
-in new communities, must be followed by a corresponding civil
-prostration. But wild and incoherent ideas of government will be
-entertained, and the strength of the masses in such communities,
-or in old ones, either, that have been much affected by these
-separations, may, upon any wild and great excitement, although in
-reality springing but from trivial causes, be organized to
-overturn rather than to sustain a government. Without intending
-in the least to be sectional, or even to verge, in the slightest
-degree, on the brink of politics, we will venture to say that the
-history of events in this country within the last few years will
-sustain this position. Too much liberty&mdash;such as is usually
-enjoyed in new communities free from proper social
-restraints&mdash;confuses the reason. Law, as a centre of action, is
-the only safeguard of any people; and to be law, it must be
-firmly planted in constitutions beyond the reach of the passions
-of the populace. To maintain law as a centre, there must not be
-too many flying forces connected with it at a distance from those
-regular and steady communities which have developed it. For,
-unless the system of law is equally developed, and the structure
-of society (upon which the law is founded) is equally perfected
-in every part of a country where the central source of labor is
-equally controlled by law-givers from every part, we must expect
-a general deterioration of morals, corresponding to the mixture
-of good and bad elements which are the active forces of the
-lawmaking power. Too many "territories," and too many new States
-at a distance from the older communities, tend, in our judgment,
-to unsettle the morals of the country, and, through the morals,
-the laws, and ultimately through the laws, the government itself.
-We have divided our people into fractions too fast. It would have
-been better for our own, and for the interests of humanity, if we
-had held more firmly together in better connected and more
-contiguous communities. Our people would not then have had the
-same wild ideas about "law" that many of them have to-day, and
-the better united interests of the country would have made a more
-loving and united people.
-</p>
-<p>
-Unity, in the affairs of men, is certainly a great desideratum.
-Immense geographical and social divisions between people usually
-produce a spirit of alienation, and, in many instances, of
-absolute hostility. Mere navigable streams of water and railroad
-connections cannot so connect a people at the distance of many
-hundreds of miles from each other as to make them but one people.
-The nearest possible approach that can be made to a close social
-and sympathetic connection between peoples who are separated from
-each other by so much space, is to bridge the space over by
-densely packed masses of human beings, and then we establish
-lines of mental and social sympathy which will make them but one
-people. This is the only method, aside from the bond of religious
-unity, by which a close and hearty cooperation can be secured
-between people even of one blood and living under the same laws.
-The human bridge connecting together remote parts of a country is
-the most complete.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_672">{672}</a></span>
-<p>
-The true policy, then, is not to plant colonies or "settlements"
-at distances from the centres of settlement, and to bridge over,
-with human beings, the intervening space, by degrees. But on the
-contrary, for us to advance in a body, closely connected, and to
-carry, unbroken, our civilization with us as we go. There will
-then be no spasmodic disturbances of the law. The wild passions
-of the wild tribes who roam our borders will not then be
-incorporated (as is now too often the case) by our people, who go
-in fragmentary bodies to great distances from the solid
-settlements, and there make their dwellings amidst the rude
-timbers of nature. There would be, under this plan of settlement,
-an equipoise and a balance. It would be regular, steady, and not
-as now fragmentary. The arrangement of the State divisions&mdash;as a
-form of government&mdash;would not, in the least, be interfered with.
-We only propose that, instead of disjointed masses of human
-beings going off by themselves at great distances from the main
-settlements, people hold, as they go, more together as a body,
-and that we encourage wild schemes of emigration less. They have
-had upon our people, upon our laws, and upon society, a most
-disastrous and unsettling effect. The policy which we propose
-does not interfere with commerce or with healthy travel, but is
-only against the wild spirit of emigration which has seized upon
-the world, and which moves those not engaged in commerce to seek
-new homes.
-</p>
-<p>
-The charms of nativity will be greatly increased by educating the
-mind to look upon our earlier homes as the theatres in which we
-are to act our parts in life. It will develop in us a more
-conformatory spirit in life, and will secure for us the
-measureless blessings of a compact and united society. A
-different training and a different practice are the fruitful
-sources of those wild idiosyncrasies in society which teach us
-that all men should be to us alike, and that there are no sacred
-fountains of the affections where the faith of the heart ever
-beams bright, and where the hallowed altars of love and
-confidence have established their holiest worship. In a word, the
-home-training, continuing through a life, and ending, for the
-most part, where begun, that is, under the genius of the same
-state laws, and amongst people of a kind, is indispensable to
-happiness, and to the natural enjoyment of life. It is equally,
-alas! indispensable to a full understanding of the genius of law
-and to the development of that conservative spirit in us which
-will teach us to value the blessings of social life far too much
-for us ever to interfere in their sacred enjoyment by other
-people. The man of home, then, as against the emigrant and the
-wanderer, is a man of peace, a man of law, a man of religion, and
-a man of society. He does not go with his rifle to destroy, nor
-with his individual will to make it the law of the surrounding
-country; but he is content to stay at home, and he accepts the
-developments of society there as he finds them, and labors
-conscientiously, when improvement is needed, to improve them; but
-always within the boundaries of those barriers which Christianity
-and conscience have set up as the landmarks of his labors.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_673">{673}</a></span>
-If we would preserve our stability, then, as a people, and make
-our government and society what they ought to be, we must change
-our wandering habits, and must cultivate the flowers of home-love
-as the only sure guarantee of peace and happiness. We must not
-allow our wandering ambitions to stretch away into other domains;
-but we must put upon ourselves the bridle of wisdom, and must be
-content to people our fields at home with the laborers which we
-now offer to other lands, to other climes, and to other states.
-This policy will make us <i>truly</i> great.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-      <h2>A Mother's Prayer.</h2>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  The regent of a goodly realm,
-      A sovereign wise and fair,
-  Gazed fondly on her youthful son,
-      And breathed her earnest prayer;
-  The one wish of her loving heart,
-      Her ceaseless, solemn thought,
-  Sole boon her love had craved for him,
-      The only prize she sought.
-
-  Was it new conquests? blood-bought gems
-      To deck his kingly hand?
-  Fair realms by cruel triumphs wed
-      Unto his rightful land?
-  Rich trappings? robes of royal state?
-      A fawning courtier throng?
-  Or minstrels' ringing lays, to pour
-      The flatteries of song?
-
-  Nay, nay, no earthly leaven base,
-      No worldly dross could cling
-  Unto that pure, maternal prayer
-      For France's youthful king.
-  'My precious son! more dear than life,
-      More prized than aught on earth,
-  In all this false and fleeting world
-      My only gift of worth!
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_674">{674}</a></span>
-  "Oh! loved and treasured as thou art,
-      Far rather would I weep
-  Above the bier where thou wert laid
-      In thy last, dreamless sleep,
-  Than live to know this form of thine
-      Held, foully shrined within,
-  A tarnished gem, a soul defiled,
-      By <i>e'en one mortal sin.</i>."
-
-  Well answered was that mother's prayer:
-      No foul, polluting taint
-  E'er marred the white and shining soul
-      Of France's royal saint.
-  His pure baptismal robe of grace
-      Unstained through life he wore;
-  The lily sceptre of the just
-      King Louis brightly bore.
-
-  O Christian matron! in thy heart
-      This lesson fair enshrine;
-  And let the blest, heroic prayer
-      Of holy Blanche be thine.
-  For what are all the gifts of earth,
-      The charms of form and face,
-  If the immortal soul hath lost
-      Its bright, baptismal grace?
-
-  Ay! what avails the wealth of worlds,
-      If, lured by syren vice,
-  God's heir hath sold his birthright fair,
-      His only "pearl of price"?
-  In vain may proud ambition grasp
-      Vast realms to tyrants given,
-  If from his guilty hand hath passed
-      The heritage of heaven.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_675">{675}</a></span>
-<br>
-        <h2>Two Months In Spain<br>
-    During The Late Revolution.</h2>
-
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-MADRID.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-Monday, Oct. 19.
-</p>
-<p>
-We visit the "Museo" to-day&mdash;the richest picture-gallery in the
-world. Ten Raphaels, forty-six Murillos, sixty-two Rubens,
-sixty-four Velasquez, forty-three Titians, etc. But even
-Raphael's "Perla," (that holy family called the Pearl,) even his
-"Spasmo de Silicia," (Christ falling beneath the cross,) even
-Guido's exquisite Magdalen and Spagnoletto's "Jacob's Dream,"
-even these great pictures sink to nothingness beside Murillo's
-"Annunciation," his "Adoration of the Shepherds," "Eleazar at the
-Well," "The Martyrdom of St. Andrew," the "Divine Shepherd," the
-Infant Saviour giving St. John to drink from a shell, called "Los
-Niños de la Concha," the "Vision of St. Bernard," and those
-wonderful "Conceptions" which embody "all that is most sublime
-and ecstatic in devotion and in the representation of divine
-love."
-</p>
-<p>
-The more one sees of Murillo, the more one is convinced that he
-is the greatest painter of the world. Others may have points of
-excellence superior to his; but his subjects are so full of piety
-and tenderness, so fascinating in coloring, and appeal so at once
-to the heart and the common sense of mankind, that they please at
-once the learned and the unlearned. The Spaniards say of him that
-he painted "Con leche y sangre," with milk and blood, so
-wonderful are his flesh tints.
-</p>
-<p>
-The "Spasmo de Silicia" is so called from the convent for which
-it was painted, "St. Maria della Spasima," in Palermo. "The
-Virgin's Trance on the way to Calvary" is considered by some
-critics only second to the "Transfiguration."
-</p>
-<p>
-The "Perla" is so named because Philip IV., beholding it for the
-first time, exclaimed, "This is the pearl of my pictures." It
-belonged to the Duke of Mantua, was bought by Charles I., and was
-sold with his other pictures by the "tasteless puritans and
-reformers."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Tuesday, Oct. 20.
-</p>
-<p>
-Spend another hour in the "Museo," looking at the pictures of the
-Flemish and Dutch schools&mdash;fifty-three Teniers, twenty-two Van
-Eycks, fifty-four Breughels, twenty-three Snyders, ten
-Wouvermans, etc. A wonderful gallery, so rich in great masters.
-</p>
-<p>
-We then go to see the "House of the Congress," which is
-handsomely decorated. The ministers' bench is here blue, while
-the others are red.
-</p>
-<p>
-The library is small but very handsome. From this we go to the
-interesting artillery museum, and then to see the coach-houses
-and stables of the palace, begun by Charles III. and finished by
-Ferdinand VII. One felt more than ever sorry for the poor
-fugitive queen, at sight of all this majesty. Beautiful Arabian
-and Andalusian horses and mules, over a hundred carriages of
-every hue and shape, from the black, cumbrous thing in which poor
-Jeanne la Folle carried about the coffin of her handsome husband,
-to the beautiful modern carriage in which the lovely Infanta went
-so lately to her bridal! All had a personal sort of interest; but
-most touching of all was the sight of the little carriages and
-perambulators which bore evidence of having been long used by the
-royal children.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_676">{676}</a></span>
-<p>
-The state carriages are very grand, many of them gifts from
-crowned heads: one from the first Napoleon; another from the
-present emperor to Queen Isabella; and a handsome plain English
-coach from Queen Victoria to her majesty. But even more than the
-carriages do the saddles and embroidered housings, the plumes,
-and harness, and trappings, and liveries, give one an idea of
-this splendor-loving court, especially those belonging to the
-days of Charles III. and Philip V. Above all these stood the
-crowned lion, with his feet on two worlds, significant of the
-greatness of Spain. And where is she, so lately the mistress of
-all this grandeur? The people told us that there had been
-thirteen thousand people dependent upon the queen's privy purse;
-that she had a school in the palace for all the children of her
-servants; and that there was no end to her generosity and
-kindness; and that, had she not been away, the revolution would
-never have occurred.
-</p>
-<p>
-And just here we meet a long line of troops, horse, foot, and
-artillery, who proved to be the men who had fought so bravely for
-their queen at Alcolea, and at such fearful odds. The men of
-Novaliches!
-</p>
-<p>
-And no man cried, "God bless them!" as they passed, weary and
-dispirited, through the streets; their enemies would not do them
-honor, and their friends dared not.
-</p>
-<p>
-When we reached the hotel, General Prim was making a speech to a
-ragged, dirty mob, who were shouting for "Libertad." He told them
-it was his saint's day&mdash;that they need not work, he would give
-them money. So, after distributing some coppers, he got into a
-fine carriage and drove off. While we struggled to get in, one of
-our party heard some of the poor women exclaim softly, "Our poor
-queen!" and then the usual piteous exclamation, "Ay Dios mios!"
-"Ay Dios mios!"
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Wednesday, Oct. 21.
-</p>
-<p>
-Go this morning to "finish" the pictures in the Museo&mdash;if such a
-thing could be done&mdash;but the more one looks, the more one feels
-it impossible ever to finish with them.
-</p>
-<p>
-The sculpture-gallery (gallery of Isabella II.) is very handsome,
-but contains only a few antiques of interest and a beautiful
-modern statue of St. John of God carrying a sick man out of his
-burning hospital. Next we go to the gallery of the Belli Arti,
-where, among other good pictures, are four of Murillo's, and
-first of these "St. Elizabeth of Hungary washing the Lepers," one
-of the greatest pictures in the world&mdash;by some considered
-Murillo's very best. It was painted for the "Caritad" of Seville,
-for which its subject made it peculiarly appropriate. The
-beautiful saint is the centre of a group of nine persons plainly
-dressed in black, an apron before her, the crown upon her head,
-and above and around a soft luminous halo seems to beam from her
-whole person. Her white hands are washing the head of a ragged
-boy who leans over the basin, and writhes with pain. A lovely
-young girl holds a pitcher, another the ointments, and an old
-woman with spectacles peers between them. In front of the
-picture, a beggar-man is taking off the dirty bandage from his
-leg, ready for his turn to be washed. On the other side, a
-withered old crone, with stick in hand, gazes eagerly on the
-saint, who speaks with her. A lame beggar on crutches is behind,
-and in the distance is the palace and a dinner-table upon the
-terrace, surrounded by beggars, upon whom the queen waits,
-showing her charity in another form.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_677">{677}</a></span>
-An artist who was copying the picture made us remark the
-wonderful variety and harmony in the figure, the tender pity of
-the saint's expression, the natural and graceful grouping, and
-the soft light over all. Many critics find the sores too truly
-painted to be agreeable to look upon; but (as some Protestant
-traveller says of it) "her saint-like charity ennobles these
-horrors, on which her woman's eye dares not look; but her royal
-hand does not refuse to heal, and how gently! The service of love
-knows no degradation."
-</p>
-<p>
-In another room are two semicircular pictures, taken also from
-Seville, (from the church of St. Maria de la Blanca,)
-representing the legend of the founding of the great church of
-St. Maria Maggiore in Rome, in the year 360.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first picture represents the "Dream" of the Roman patrician
-and his wife, in which he sees the Blessed Virgin in the heavens,
-pointing out the spot where the church shall be built&mdash;upon which
-spot the snow will fall in August. In the companion picture, the
-founder and his wife are kneeling before the pope relating the
-vision, while in the dim distance is seen a procession advancing
-to the appointed place.
-</p>
-<p>
-Coming from the Museo, we go to see the palace of the Duke of
-Medina Coeli, one of the richest nobles of Spain and one of the
-highest in rank. A regal establishment, with a greater air of
-comfort than prevails in most palaces. Gardens and
-picture-galleries, a theatre, suites of magnificent rooms&mdash;one in
-rose-colored satin, with walls hung in gray silk.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Thursday, Oct. 22.
-</p>
-<p>
-Set out for Toledo; pass the palace of "Aranjuez," the St. Cloud
-of Spain, as la Grandja, built by Philip V., is its Versailles.
-We mistake our way, and are left on the plains of la Mancha in a
-miserable "posada," or rather a "venta," (the lower grade of
-inn,) where we remain all day with nothing visible save one of
-Don Quixote's windmills, which we are sorely tempted to battle
-with after the fashion of that redoubtable hero. How truly it has
-been said of this sterile-looking country, the "old Castile of la
-Mancha," by a witty traveller&mdash;" the country is brown, the man is
-brown, his jacket, his mantle, his wife, his <i>stew</i>, his
-mule, his house&mdash;all partake of the color of the saffron, which
-is profusely cultivated, and which enters into the composition of
-his food as well as his complexion."
-</p>
-<p>
-At length we are cheered by the arrival of a lovely Spanish woman
-and her daughter, who are returning from their estate near by,
-and come, like ourselves, to wait the train for Madrid.
-</p>
-<p>
-The daughter had been educated in the Sacré Coeur Convent near
-Madrid. Spoke French well. She told us in her lively way that,
-though these plains looked so brown and desert-like, they brought
-good crops and "put money in the pocket," and that back from the
-roads were fine plantations of olive and vine.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="right">
-Saturday, Oct. 24.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some Spanish friends come to show us some of the hospitals and
-other great charities of Madrid, which numbers forty in all.
-First, to the general hospital, attended by the Sisters of
-Charity&mdash;a city in itself, where are over eighteen hundred sick
-poor. It covers an immense extent of ground, and, like all
-Spanish hospitals, has shady courts, and gardens, and corridors
-running around the courts. All was clean and comfortable, the
-sisters tenderly feeding the sick children and old people, and
-reading or praying beside the beds.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_678">{678}</a></span>
-<p>
-From this we go to the most interesting of all, called the
-"Maison de la Providence," supported by the ladies of rank in
-Madrid, and under the care of the French Sisters of Charity, who
-wear the familiar "cornette." Here, besides <i>enfants
-trouvés</i> and orphans, they have (or had) six hundred poor
-children, taken out of the streets. Many of these are kept for
-the day, the parents seeking them at night: all of them are
-taught gratuitously. We were shown a room in which forty of the
-smallest (not one over two years) had been put to bed for the
-noonday sleep, perfect little cherubs, side by side, on the
-tiniest and whitest of beds, with fringed curtains above them.
-The sister opened the window-shutters to give us a look at this
-lovely picture; and the light woke many of them, who sat up
-rubbing their bright eyes, and looking with wonder at the
-strangers, but not one cried. In one corner were great basins and
-towels showing why the faces were so clean and rosy.
-</p>
-<p>
-The sister then took us to the playground, where hundreds of
-little things, from the ages of three to six years, were playing;
-the boys on one side, the girls on the other; the sisters with
-them. We were invited to remain and see them go into school, that
-we might see the system of uniting instruction with amusement,
-which has been so successfully employed by these charitable
-teachers. At the sound of an instrument, (something like a
-castanet,) the little things fell into ranks, one behind the
-other, the hindmost holding on with both hands to the shoulders
-of the one who preceded him. In this way, and slowly keeping time
-with their little feet, they marched into the room, marching and
-countermarching with admirable precision. Three divisions of
-eight, headed by a "captain," (a well-drilled soldier,) form, and
-go to their seats; each captain helps to seat his division, and
-then counts to see if he has the correct number. The children
-then rise to say the Lord's Prayer, all in concert, slowly and
-reverently, preceding it with the "sign of the cross," made with,
-some, such tiny fingers! The sister next proceeds to give a
-lesson. Great black letters, on wooden blocks, (so large as to be
-seen by all,) are one by one laid in grooves upon an inclined
-plane, the children all (together) calling out the letter as it
-is placed, spelling the word, then reading (or rather, singing)
-the sentence. If the sister makes a mistake, a dozen little
-voices correct it. A child of six is next chosen to spell a
-sentence, and severe were the little critics when he misplaced a
-letter. Next came a lesson in Scripture history. A book of
-colored prints was opened here and there, and the stories were
-told by the children in their own pretty way, of Adam and Eve,
-David and Absalom, etc. We were presently shown the children old
-enough to be taught to work, little things of five and six years,
-knitting or sewing; and then a class making plain sewing; and
-then the larger orphan girls, working the finest needlework and
-embroidery.
-</p>
-<p>
-And this is one of eight such institutions in Madrid! It is kept
-up by individual charity; and the fear is, that it must be
-curtailed if not closed on account of the revolution; the ladies
-who contributed most to it having been forced to leave with the
-queen's party, or having absented themselves from fear of getting
-into trouble. These high-born ladies have had also many schools
-in different parts of the city, where they taught the poor every
-Sunday, as in our Sunday-schools. The provisional government has
-stopped all these, on the pretext that they are "incendiary," as
-they have also that of the "Conferences of St. Vincent de Paul"!
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_679">{679}</a></span>
-<p>
-Our Spanish friends tell us of the closing, yesterday, of the
-"royal school," (founded many centuries ago by one of the kings
-of Spain, and supported from the privy purse of the reigning king
-or queen,) for the daughters of the nobility who have met with
-reverse of fortune, orphans and others of good birth but of no
-means. Yesterday these poor girls were turned out, homeless,
-houseless; and as they passed along, the brutal rabble insulted
-them with cries of, "Come out, you thieves; you have eaten our
-bread long enough; come out, and let us have place." To-day, we
-see them tearing down the building. And this is "progress!"
-</p>
-<p>
-We hear that the carriage of the Duchess Medina Coeli has been
-assaulted to-day, the crown upon her carriage pelted, the glasses
-broken, with the cry of "Down with the aristocrats!"&mdash;that fatal
-cry, which (with many other bad things) they borrow from the
-French, and which was the signal to spill so much "good" blood.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-               Toledo.
-</p>
-<p class="right">
-October 25.
-</p>
-<p>
-Only three hours' time (by rail) separate Toledo and Madrid, the
-old and new world of Spain! What a contrast between the two!
-Toledo towers like an eagle's nest on the steep rock, the "dark,
-melancholy" Tagus winding below, with walls and Moorish gates and
-steep crags, with Roman and Gothic and Arabic ruins, with
-glorious memories of the fierce and warlike Goths, and of its
-imperial renown under Charles V.; while the modern upstart,
-Madrid, has nothing of which to boast, save fine houses, and
-shops, bustle and traffic, noise and dirt, "progress" and
-revolution!
-</p>
-<p>
-Toledo is said to have been a Phoenician or Grecian colony, then
-conquered by the all-absorbing Romans, 146 B.C., and the favorite
-resort of the Jews who fled from Jerusalem after its fall, and
-who became here rich and powerful, and exercised an important
-influence in the history of the country until expelled by
-Ferdinand and Isabella, in 1492.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the fifth century, the Goths conquered Spain and founded that
-splendid and powerful kingdom which, after three hundred years,
-ended with Roderick in 712, when the Moors, under Taric,
-overthrew the Goths in the battle of the Guadalete, and overran
-all Spain. In 1085, it was reconquered by Alonzo V., and Toledo
-was the seat of the court until removed by Philip II. to Madrid
-in 1560, and (for a few years) to Valladolid.
-</p>
-<p>
-Our first duty is to the cathedral, considered by many persons to
-be the finest building in the world. It was commenced by St.
-Ferdinand in 1227, on the site of a mosque, which, in turn, had
-been built upon a church founded in 587 by St. Eugenius, the
-friend and disciple of St. Denis, who introduced Christianity
-into Spain. It employed one hundred and forty-nine of the
-greatest artists of the world two hundred and sixty-six years to
-complete and render it the masterpiece it now is. The cathedral
-of Seville is grander, higher, more impressive from its austere
-simplicity; but this, from its greater lightness, the mingling of
-the early Gothic with the later and more florid style, from the
-Moorish carvings on the white stone of which it is built, is more
-graceful and beautiful; and from the thousand memories of great
-men and great deeds with which it is associated, its royal tombs
-and statues, its Muzurabic chapel, its great relics, its grand
-treasures, is infinitely more interesting.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_680">{680}</a></span>
-<p>
-We arrived in time to hear the high mass&mdash;the glorious organs,
-and fine voices, while the morning sunlight streamed through
-seven hundred and fifty stained windows and among eighty-eight
-colossal pillars. Picturesque groups knelt before the different
-shrines. We chose the chapel of St. Ildefonso, raised upon the
-spot where, according to the legend, he received the chasuble
-from the hands of the Blessed Virgin, which Murillo has made the
-subject of one of his finest pictures.
-</p>
-<p>
-Near this chapel is the altar at which Ferdinand and Isabella
-heard mass after the conquest of Granada. The grand retablo of
-the main altar extends from the altar to the ceiling, and is
-considered a marvel of exquisite carving, representing the scenes
-in the passion of our Lord&mdash;the work of twenty-five artists, of
-whom John of Bologna was one.
-</p>
-<p>
-On either side of this, (in niches,) are the tombs of Sancho the
-Brave, Alfonso VII., and Sancho the Wise, and, below these, that
-of the great Cardinal Mendoza. On each side of the altar are
-screens, of which the carvings in marble are exquisite, as are
-the seventy stalls of the choir, which are divided by jasper
-pillars. The two pulpits are of gilt metal resting on marble
-columns, and are of the finest workmanship. The chapels are
-exceedingly rich, especially that of Santiago, built by that
-worthless favorite of John II. of Castile, Don Alvaro de Luna, as
-the burial-place of his family. Upon his tomb was originally a
-statue which was contrived so as to rise and kneel at the time of
-the "elevation" during mass; but Queen Isabella, the wife of John
-II., (who was the means of bringing him to justice,) had it
-changed. He lies quietly enough now, with his sword between his
-legs, while kneeling figures of knights pray at each corner of
-the tomb.
-</p>
-<p>
-The chapter-house contains portraits of all the archbishops of
-Toledo, many pictures, and a superb carved and inlaid ceiling of
-alerce wood. Here have been held all the important councils of
-Spain. There is a chapel filled with interesting relics, and the
-treasures of the church surpass those of all Spain in value.
-Among these is the cross which Cardinal Mendoza carried in
-procession at the surrender of Granada, and planted on the walls
-of the Alhambra; a custodia of gold and silver, weighing
-twenty-five arobas&mdash;about six hundred pounds&mdash;nine feet high, and
-covered with myriads of statuettes and exquisite ornaments. It
-was given by Queen Isabella, and made from the first gold sent by
-Columbus from America. There was one vestment covered with
-eighty-five thousand pearls; another with as great profusion of
-coral; a crown, and other ornaments of diamonds and other jewels;
-a missal, given by St. Louis; some silver plate carved by
-Benvenuto Cellini; and in the vestuario is the grandest display
-of vestments in the world. Those at St. Peter's are not so fine.
-Many of these were given by cardinals Mendoza and Ximenes, by
-Queen Isabella, and other sovereigns; and most of them many
-centuries old, yet preserving the brightness of the gold and
-silver work, and the colors of the embroidery. There were the
-chairs used by these great dignitaries, and the hangings used to
-adorn the church on the occasion of the thanksgiving for the
-victory of Lepanto.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_681">{681}</a></span>
-<p>
-But above all this is the interest felt in the "Muzarabic
-Chapel," built by Cardinal Ximenes, (<i>Cisneros</i>, as they
-call him in Spanish,) to preserve the ancient liturgy of the
-Muzarabes, (Muzarabes&mdash;mixed Arabs,) who were the Goths who,
-after the conquest of Spain by the Moors, agreed to live under
-the Moslem rule, retaining the Christian worship. This is the
-oldest ritual in Spain, introduced here by the apostles of this
-country, St. Torquatus and his companions. It was at first, in
-most respects, similar to the Roman liturgy; but underwent many
-changes after the conquest of Spain by the Visi-Goths and
-Vandals, who were Arians, and brought with them to Spain their
-liturgy, which was Greco-Arian, written in Latin.
-</p>
-<p>
-This Gothic liturgy was almost exclusively adopted in Spain,
-after the fourth council of Toledo in 633, when St. Isidore of
-Seville and other celebrated Spanish bishops of this period, to
-put a stop to the disorders in the churches, arranged the ritual
-and obliged all to follow it. Even after the introduction of the
-Gregorian liturgy, the Spaniards retained their own, and it was
-universal up to the eighth century, when the Moors conquered
-Spain. By those Goths who submitted to the Moors, and who were
-promised freedom of their religion, it was guarded with the
-utmost vigilance; and even after Spain was conquered by the free
-Spaniards, (who had meantime adopted the Gregorian rite,) the
-Muzarabes retained their own Gothic rite, and it was allowed to
-them in six parishes, just as it had existed during the six
-hundred years of Moorish domination.
-</p>
-<p>
-But as the Muzarabic families disappeared or mingled with others,
-their venerable and ancient liturgy gradually disappeared; and
-but for cardinals Mendoza and Ximenes, it must have been lost
-entirely. The first formed the design which Ximenes carried
-out&mdash;gathered up all the manuscripts of their liturgy, had them
-revised by their own priests, and printed a great number of the
-missals, and built this chapel in his own cathedral, (called "ad
-Corpus Christi,") and founded a college of thirteen priests to
-serve it, confiding to the chapter of the cathedral the
-protection of this religious foundation. Other bishops followed
-his example, and in the sixteenth century a chapel was founded in
-Salamanca, and another in Valladolid; but the one in Toledo seems
-to be the only one now existing: here the mass is said every day
-at nine o'clock; but few attend it, and it has become a mere
-liturgic curiosity.
-</p>
-<p>
-It commences with a prayer very little different from the Roman
-liturgy; then the same psalm "Judica me," the introit, the
-"Gloria in Excelsis," a lesson from the Old Testament, then the
-gradual and epistle. The prayers of the offertory are almost
-identical with those of the Roman liturgy; then follow prayers
-like the Greek and Milanese liturgies; then the preface. But the
-canon of the mass is different; the trisagion is followed
-immediately by the consecration, and the credo is said at the
-"elevation." The host is divided into two parts; the priest then
-divides one part into five, and the other into four small bits;
-places them upon the paten, upon which is engraved a cross
-composed of seven circles, so that seven pieces of the host are
-placed in the seven circles. He then places (on the right) at the
-side of the cross upon the paten, the other two parts; each of
-these nine parts has a name corresponding to a mystery in the
-life of Christ, and they form, placed upon the paten the
-following figures,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table style="border:none">
-<tr><td style="padding:10px; border:none">Incarnation</td>	 <td style="padding:10px; border:none">Passion</td></tr>
-<tr><td style="padding:10px; border:none">Nativity</td>		 <td style="padding:10px; border:none">Death</td></tr>
-<tr><td style="padding:10px; border:none">Circumcision</td>  <td style="padding:10px; border:none">Resurrection</td></tr>
-<tr><td style="padding:10px; border:none">Epiphany</td>	     <td style="padding:10px; border:none">Ascension</td></tr>
-</table>
-<br>
-Eternal Kingdom
-</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_682">{682}</a></span>
-<p>
-After this division, follows the "Pater," a prayer for the
-afflicted, for prisoners, the sick and the dead. The priest then
-takes a particle of the host corresponding to the words, "Eternal
-Kingdom," and lets it fall into the chalice, pronouncing the
-appropriate words; then he blesses the people, and communicates;
-then the particle of the host corresponding to the word
-"Ascension," recites a prayer for the dead, says the "Domine, non
-sum dignus," and communicates with the particle of the host just
-mentioned, and so successively with all the others; empties the
-chalice, takes the ablutions, says the post-communion, the "Salva
-Regina," blesses the people, and leaves the altar.
-</p>
-<p>
-Over the altar of the Muzarabic chapel is a picture of the taking
-of Oran, (in Africa,) which Ximenes conquered at his own risk and
-his own expense, and made a gift of it to the crown of Spain.
-</p>
-<p>
-Opposite the cathedral is the archbishop's palace, where is a
-library open to the public, and adjoining this is the "Casa del
-Ayuntamiento," house of the municipality, built by Del Greco, a
-Greek who came to Toledo in 1577, where he became famous as
-painter and architect.
-</p>
-<p>
-We now travel through the narrow, precipitous streets, visiting
-curious and beautiful architectural remains of the Gothic and
-Moorish times, found in public and private buildings, strange
-projecting door-posts, with cannon-ball ornaments; traverse the
-"Zocodover," the market square, which is most Moorish looking,
-with irregular windows and balconies, and is as well the
-fashionable promenade, and lounging place as place of traffic.
-Among the many churches, two are especially interesting in
-arabesque remains&mdash;St. Maria de la Blanca and El Transitu, built
-in 1326, which were once synagogues; the latter was afterward
-given by Queen Isabella to the order of Calatrava.
-</p>
-<p>
-Next to the cathedral in interest is the church of St. Juan de
-los Reyes, (St. John of the Kings,) St. John being the special
-patron of the kings of Spain. This was built by Ferdinand and
-Isabella in 1496, in thanksgiving for the victory of Toro, where
-they defeated the king of Portugal, who had set up a rival to the
-throne of Castile, in the person of Jeanne Beltranea, the natural
-daughter of Jeanne of Portugal, wife of Henry II., the elder
-brother of Isabella. Upon the outside walls of this church hang
-the chains taken off the Christians found in captivity in
-Granada. The interior has been much changed; but there still
-remain the high tribunes used by the royal family, and much of
-the curious and elaborate carving, whose richness was once past
-all description. The cloisters of the adjoining convent of
-Franciscans, now in ruins, were once one of the most splendid
-specimens of florid Gothic art in the world. The fine pointed
-arches and delicate arabesque carvings are now half covered by
-passion-vine and ivy, and the pretty garden is a desert wild. In
-this convent the great Cardinal Ximenes made his novitiate as a
-Franciscan monk, from which retirement he was called, by Cardinal
-Mendoza, to be the confessor of Queen Isabella; and this
-wonderful woman, who had the discernment to know and choose men
-who could aid her in her great designs, when Mendoza died, named
-as successor to the "great cardinal" the poor monk Francis
-Ximenes, who became at one time bishop of Toledo, primate of
-Spain, and grand chancellor of Castile; and though, in this
-position, the first personage of the court, and the greatest
-grandee of the kingdom, he still retained the simple habits of
-the Franciscan; and it was necessary to have an order from the
-pope to induce him to assume the appendages belonging to his
-rank.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_683">{683}</a></span>
-Indeed, it is said that under his robes of silk and velvet he
-wore the "cilice" and the coarse brown habit of his order; and
-after his death was found the little box with the needles and
-thread with which the great primate of Spain mended his own
-garments. He concluded the treaties which made Spain at this time
-the greatest power of the world; and it is wonderful how this
-man, already old&mdash;for he was sixty when he assumed the
-primacy&mdash;how he could at once attend to the various and
-multiplied duties of which he is said never to have neglected
-anything. He lived in the age of great men, of Mendoza, (el gran
-cardinal,) of Gonzales de Cordova, (el gran capitan,) of
-Christopher Columbus, and many others, and took part in all the
-great events of this great age. Immediately upon the invention of
-printing, he had printed the celebrated polyglot Bible of Alcala,
-which cost him 500,000 francs of our money, and was in itself
-enough to immortalize him. He founded universities, built
-colleges, endowed professorships and scholarships, and built
-convents and schools for the education of poor children. Raumer,
-in his <i>History of Europe</i>, says of him, "His sagacity and
-his activity were equal to his sanctity. Embracing all the
-branches of administration, nourishing the grandest plans and
-projects, he neglected for these neither piety nor science. As a
-warrior, he commanded in 1509 the crusade which made a descent in
-Africa, and conquered Oran. He founded, upon principles which do
-honor to his intelligence, the university of Alcala, and directed
-the printing of the celebrated Bible to which this city gives its
-name. He is the only man admired by his contemporaries as a
-politician, a warrior, and a saint at the same time."
-</p>
-<p>
-From the esplanade in front of the church of St. Juan de los
-Reyes is a fine view. The great manufactory of the "Toledo
-blades" lies below upon the wild and melancholy Tagus, which
-winds through the plain; beyond are the mountains. The bridge of
-St. Martin spans the Tagus on one side, with its Moorish towers
-at either end. The tower of Cambron, one of the great Moorish
-towers, is in front, in which is a lovely statue of St. Leocadia,
-and near the bridge of St. Martin, on the city side, is the site
-of the palace of the Gothic kings. Here are some arches of a ruin
-called "Los Vaños de Florinda"&mdash;she who was the daughter of the
-apostate Don Julian, and with whose unhappy fate is involved that
-of the last of the Gothic kings.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Alcazar, which overlooks the whole city, was a Moorish
-palace, then a fortress, with additions made by Alonzo VI., in
-1085. Improved by Don Alvarado de Luna, and then by Charles V. in
-1548, and by Philip II.'s great architect, Herara, there only
-remains the great patio, with its fine columns and the
-magnificent staircase for which Philip sent directions from
-England. Burned in the war of the succession, it was repaired by
-Cardinal Lorenzana, a munificent patron of arts, and whose whole
-life was devoted to good works, who made it a silk factory for
-poor girls. The French injured it again in 1809, and it has been
-a ruin until now, when some repairs seem to be going on by order
-of the queen.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_684">{684}</a></span>
-<p>
-The esplanade in front commands a fine view. Just below is the
-military college, formerly the great hospital of Santa Cruz,
-founded by Cardinal Mendoza. On a height near are the ruins of
-the castle of Cervantes, not the author Cervantes, but one which
-belonged to the Knights Templars. We pass through the Puerta del
-Sol, one of the great Moorish gates, follow the steep and winding
-way by the remains of an old Roman bridge and fortress, cross the
-bridge of Alcantara, and so&mdash;leave Toledo.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-         <h2>All For The Faith.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-There is a mystery, an evangel, in suffering; and this fiery
-evangel, God's message to our immortality, prepares and perfects
-the soul for the long hereafter.
-</p>
-<p>
-In a humble room sat Sir Ralph de Mohun and the Lady Beatrice.
-The soft sunlight of Provence was fading, and athwart the rose
-leaves the dying flush rested on this fairest type of girlish
-loveliness. Absorbed in her rosary, she sat at the open window;
-while, bending near, Sir Ralph watched the gorgeous heavens,
-gazing with no thought of the surroundings, and
-thinking&mdash;thinking as we so often do in the hours that fate
-allows us for decision.
-</p>
-<p>
-Glimpses of his proud English home stole upon the old man's
-vision; of the shadowy oak-lined halls and stately corridors
-where, as a boy, he had looked with childish pride upon portraits
-of a brave line that had passed their own childhood there; the
-cross of the old chapel glittered in his dreams, for beneath it
-the mother of his children slept. But now, homeless and an alien,
-he would never again see the white cliffs of the land his heart
-loved best.
-</p>
-<p>
-The battle of the Boyne had crushed the lingering hopes of the
-Cavaliers who had forsaken home and kindred to follow the last
-Stuart king. If James had only possessed average tact, he might
-have retained the affection of his subjects; but strong-willed
-without discrimination, zealous without wisdom, his whole reign
-was a succession of errors which could not but alienate the
-middle classes, all ways practical and struggling against the
-encroachments of the aristocracy. Nobly did the Cavaliers rally
-to the rescue of this last Catholic king, when, forsaken even by
-those of his blood, he stood alone, held at bay by the same
-subjects who had sworn him fealty. All through the darkness of
-his mistaken flight, through the changeful, disastrous campaign,
-and, so trying to their haughty spirit, even unto the court of
-Louis, where sneering courtiers dared to greet them with slights
-and contumely, they neither swerved nor varied. All this had
-tested their loyalty, tried their faith; yet they neither changed
-nor forsook him: and of this band none had suffered more than
-gallant Sir Ralph de Mohun.
-</p>
-<p>
-A very pleasant life was that of the Catholic gentry in England;
-they hunted, they were jovial at their meetings, but devout in
-the chapel; and no class of the English subjects were more
-orderly and refined. But when the old crown rested on other than
-the brow of a Stuart, they left the broad moors and sunny downs,
-and fled with the monarch who represented not only their
-government, but their faith, in old England.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_685">{685}</a></span>
-<p>
-Stripped of the wealth that had given him comfort, despoiled of
-all that makes a man's position a blessing, the brave knight
-steadily, defiantly met an adverse fate. "<i>Noblesse
-oblige!</i>" spoke in every phase of his stormy life; he would
-suffer, ay, die, as a gentleman, with no murmur to the world of
-the sorrow and strife within. But an uncontrolled, unsubdued
-feeling warred with the iron resolve which supported him, and
-this was his devotion to the last bairn left him by his fair
-Scottish wife.
-</p>
-<p>
-Twenty summers had deepened her girlhood into that rare
-womanhood, refined through suffering, strengthened by discipline;
-and the sweet eyes shone with a softer light, a more earnest
-loveliness, as they gazed from under the long, dark lashes; while
-the gentle, low voice owned a subdued tone, very different from
-the lightsome carol that had gladdened bluff Sir Ralph at the gay
-meet in old Suffolk. But times were different now, and the table
-was becoming scantier, while the silver grew very low; and the
-soldier who had rallied the dragoons at the Boyne, had stood
-unmoved when advancing squadrons of the English, his own blood in
-the front ranks, swept on to attack him, felt his eyes dim as he
-watched his frail, last blossom, and knew that soon she would be
-in a strange land all alone.
-</p>
-<p>
-The afternoon faded into night, and the scanty fire could not
-warm the chill and bare chamber in which the old man lay. He was
-dozing in the great arm-chair, and Beatrice was crouched on a low
-cushion near, when softly the door opened. Was the young girl
-dreaming, as with her large eyes larger still, she rose
-instinctively, rose as though swayed by an unseen spirit, and
-walked out upon the terrace?
-</p>
-<p>
-"Beatrice, I have risked life, almost honor for this."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Philip Stratherne, life belongs to honor, and honor should never
-be risked."
-</p>
-<p>
-The speech cost her an effort, for her voice was faint and very
-low.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have come to offer peace and comfort, my darling, and&mdash;dare I
-whisper the story which you used to listen to, under the elms at
-home?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Sir Philip Stratherne, you forget the past; you will not
-remember the blood that lies between us."
-</p>
-<p>
-"My darling! my darling! we have no past save what you gave to
-me. Life belongs to honor, your own sweet voice has told me, and
-we are commanded to 'love without dissimulation;' therefore the
-logic of courts and battle-fields shall claim no power here."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Philip! Philip!" was all the maiden could find speech to answer,
-uttered in a tone meant to be reproachful.
-</p>
-<p>
-Two years of sorrow had passed since the fatal battle of the
-Boyne, and the heart of the maiden was very sore, very lonely,
-very hungry for the one love that made her life.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Beatrice!" called from the room, and she entered.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come and sing to me, little one; for I have been dreaming sad
-dreams of the old home." And so she sat on her cushion at his
-feet, and sang in her soft alto:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "It was a' for our rightful king,
-      We left fair Scotia's strand;
-   It was a' for our rightful king,
-      We e'er saw Irish land,
-         We e'er saw Irish land!
-
-  "The sodger frae the war returns,
-      The sailor frae the main;
-   But I hae' parted frae my love,
-      Never to meet again,
-         Never to meet again.
-
-  "When day is done, and night is come,
-      And a' things wrapt in sleep;
-   I think o' one who's far away,
-      The lee lang night, an' weep,
-         The lee lang night, an' weep."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-"Will Sir Ralph Mohun welcome the son of an old friend?"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_686">{686}</a></span>
-<p>
-The old man turned hastily, and Philip Stratherne stood before
-him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The time was, Sir Philip, when I should have grasped your hand
-with all the feeling which my love for the boy inspired. Now, you
-are under the roof of what is left me, and therefore I am
-silent."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was a stately courtesy in all this which embarrassed and
-wounded the young man.
-</p>
-<p>
-"This, certainly, is not my former welcome; but the times have
-changed the manners, Sir Ralph, and we must accept the change."
-</p>
-<p>
-"True, Sir Philip. There is little that I can offer you now; yet
-methinks there is a seat for you."
-</p>
-<p>
-The young man hesitated, and then sat down.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have not learned diplomacy on battle-fields, Sir Ralph,
-therefore I will without preamble tell you what is heavy on my
-heart. First, to be selfishly eager, I have come to ask you for
-what you promised years ago&mdash;your daughter. Sir Ralph de Mohun,
-you were once young, and blood coursed as fiery then as now. Can
-you find it in your heart to separate us? Then, secondly, your
-old friends at court offer entire restitution and pardon, if you
-will accept the new <i>régime</i>, with England's faith."
-</p>
-<p>
-"If I have been true to my country, then must I still be true to
-my God! Philip Stratherne, if I had not loved you from your
-boyhood, the words that would come to my lips would tell you what
-my heart wills to speak to <i>all</i> who have proved false! For
-the rest, my daughter has the Mohun blood, and she knows what her
-church teaches."
-</p>
-<p>
-And Beatrice sat silent, crushed as a lily powerless from the
-storm. She knew her duty, she felt her love. Reason&mdash;honor told
-her that even love could not span the chasm through which the
-blood of her gallant brothers flowed. They, too, had followed the
-fortunes of the Stuart king, and one lay dead before the bastions
-of Londonderry, while another gave up his young life with the
-war-shout on his fearless lips, in the van of his father's
-regiment at Newtown-butler.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was Philip Stratherne who led the detachment of Enniskillen
-horse that rode down the mere handful of Irish dragoons, inspired
-by Guy Mohun's ringing cry; and Sir Ralph had listened to Philip
-Stratherne's voice, as, clear and steady, it rallied the
-Enniskilleners to the charge that had snatched that last son from
-him. Not only for the Stuart had he yielded his glorious life,
-but for the cross, for the faith, in the defence of which
-centuries had borne brave testimony for the Mohuns, not only in
-bonnie England, but on every battle-field in Christendom.
-</p>
-<p>
-A stern self-control subdued the old man; but the girl, the woman
-was suffering; honor commanded, duty pleaded, but a wilder,
-stronger, stormier feeling fought within her now. The color
-crimsoned the fair face, and the sweet eyes turned, rested for
-one moment on the young man with all the girl's tenderness, all
-the woman's passion&mdash;a mute appeal, a dying cry for help; then
-with the delicate hands clasped tightly over her breast, as
-though to keep down the heart's mad struggling, she spoke so low
-that the words seemed almost inarticulate, yet to the man
-listening with such painful eagerness each sound knelled the
-death which knows no "resurgam!" Only the simple words came
-faltering forth, came sobbing as the wind soughs the prelude to
-destruction, ere the lightning scathes its fiery death; and so in
-this whisper he heard,
-</p>
-<p>
-"Were I a false Mohun, I could not be a true Stratherne."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_687">{687}</a></span>
-<p>
-Then without a word she left them; and when the old man sought
-her, he found her lying as one dead before her crucifix. Tenderly
-he raised her, and from his lips sounded the prayer:
-</p>
-<p>
-"May the Lord receive the sacrifice from thy hands, to the praise
-and glory of his name, and to the benefit both of us and of his
-holy church."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Amen!" whispered a low voice, and the soft eyes unclosed all dim
-with tears.
-</p>
-<p>
-No murmur escaped her lips, no regret was ever spoken, but fairer
-and frailer in her rare loveliness, the old man trembled as he
-watched her, and he cried in the bitterness of his agony,
-</p>
-<p>
-"Save me, O God! for the waters are come in even unto my soul."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was Holy-week, the most solemn of the Lenten season, and
-Beatrice Mohun knelt in the old cathedral during the impressive
-<i>Tenebrae</i>, and as the fourteen candles were extinguished,
-and the solemn <i>Miserere</i> rose, from the depths of her heart
-came the prayer:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Let not the tempest of water drown me, nor the deep swallow me
-up."
-</p>
-<p>
-And the pervading gloom corresponded with her own spirit; her
-life owned no brightness, and the one tie left her seemed fast
-wearing away. Trouble had weakened the iron constitution of Sir
-Ralph; for more exhausting than mere physical pain is the
-ceaseless care that preys upon the vitals, claiming life as its
-tribute.
-</p>
-<p>
-He felt that he could buy back ease and comfort for his darling,
-and he knew that for him earth held but a very few years; but to
-obtain all this, he must barter his honor, yield his creed, and
-the old blood still owned the fierceness of a changeless
-fidelity. No Mohun had ever swerved, not even in the dark days of
-the last Tudor, nor after, when his graceless daughter held the
-sceptre. And now, though bereft of home, with his gallant sons
-lying far from their kindred, his fair young daughter
-life-wrecked, his own existence a burden, when even starvation
-mocked them, the loyal spirit knew no change; but staunchly by
-the old faith, true to the weak king, the brave knight still
-fought his adverse destiny.
-</p>
-<p>
-And Beatrice came back through the darkness, and leaned against
-the couch on which her father lay.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come to me, little one; for I fear that you are not as strong as
-in the days when wild Bess bore you to the hunt. Have you any
-regrets for the past, my darling?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Duty gives us discipline, papa, and it would not be right to
-question Providence."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Bravely spoken, my daughter; you nerve a courage which was
-growing too human to be strong. But you grieve at the choice
-which has kept you the slave of an old man's caprice?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"O papa!" and a low quick sob stopped her; then with more control
-she quietly said, "You forget that it was not only to be with
-you, but to remain firm and loyal to holy church; and papa, I
-often think that earth is only the high road to a better world;
-therefore I only pray that the end may be very near."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Little one, bring the light nearer&mdash;let me look upon your face;
-hold it nearer, darling. Ah God! this is the dimness which brings
-my warning. Quick, daughter mine, send for Father Paolo. Now, O
-God! my eyes, darkened with the mist of death, fix their last
-dying looks on thy crucified image. Merciful Jesus, have mercy on
-me!"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_688">{688}</a></span>
-<p>
-Father Paolo did come, and in the gray dawn of Good-Friday the
-old knight lay dying.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Kyrie Eleison!" said the clear voice of the holy father, and,
-clasping closer the blessed crucifix, the old man's voice was
-steady as he responded, "Christe eleison!" And alone in her agony
-the young girl knelt.
-</p>
-<p>
-A clattering of hoofs sounded in the court-yard, and a quick
-step, that startled her even then, broke the solemn stillness.
-</p>
-<p>
-"In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum," prayed the
-priest.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Domine Jesu Christe, suscipe spiritum meum," in clear, earnest
-tones rung out the old man's voice; then the door was flung open,
-and Philip Stratherne entered.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not too late, thank God! Hold her not away from me. Say now that
-you die William's subject, and all your own shall be hers."
-</p>
-<p>
-The closing eyes opened, the old strength came back to them, and
-a sweet smile illumed his face, as the words came,
-</p>
-<p>
-"Maria, mater gratis, mater misericordiae, tu me ab hoste
-protege, et in hora mortis suscipe!" And with a long low sigh the
-spirit passed away to God.
-</p>
-<p>
-With a sob that rent her heart in twain, Beatrice threw herself
-beside her father.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My darling, come with me; the last obstacle has passed away, and
-God has given you as my legacy."
-</p>
-<p>
-She made no answer. The solemn monotone of the priest alone was
-heard, "Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat
-ei."
-</p>
-<p>
-But to all this the man was deaf; he only saw the prostrate girl,
-and listened to her sobs of agony.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My waif has drifted to her haven, and I will guard her with my
-life."
-</p>
-<p>
-His strong arms were around her, and the voice that thrilled her
-soul was sounding in her ears. How could she send him from her?
-"Ah! God help me!" she cried.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Et ne nos inducas in tentationem," came in deep, sonorous tones
-from the priest.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Sed libera nos a malo," sounded the response.
-</p>
-<p>
-And further, "Domine, exaudi orationem meam!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Et clamor meus ad te veniat!" and Beatrice fainted with these
-words upon her lips.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Son, leave her to us," urged the priest, but he would not go
-till she opened her sweet eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Daughter!"&mdash;and she caught the hand of Father Paolo, as in the
-desperation of agonized despair. A shadow darkened Philip
-Stratherne's brow.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The cursed priest again!" he muttered between his closed teeth.
-"Tell me when I may see you again, Beatrice, free from these
-fearful surroundings."
-</p>
-<p>
-"The Monday of Easter-week," was all she replied, and he left
-her.
-</p>
-<p>
-And when the Monday dawned, bright with the carol of birds, he
-sought her; but the old chateau by the valley was silent, the
-shutters barred, and the flowers drooping and dead. An aged woman
-came hobbling to him, who said, with the tears dimming her old
-eyes, "Ah! the sweet bird has flown, master, and St. Ursula
-guards her from behind the bars."
-</p>
-<p>
-"God of heaven, save me! Here is gold if you will prove this
-false."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Keep your gold for charity, master; for the truth is strong; and
-our holy Mother keeps her safe from all evil."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_689">{689}</a></span>
-<p>
-Wild with the horror of losing her, he strode across the valley
-to the convent near. The angelus was sounding, and over the
-hills, up the broad river, the holy prayer-call echoed, for the
-Easter season rejoiced the earth; her <i>jubilate</i> for the
-blessed link connecting the God-man with humanity.
-</p>
-<p>
-Blade, and leaf, and blossom gloried in the new life, and the
-spring sun spread over the natural world the same light with
-which the resurrection gladdened the soul; but to all this was
-the young man blind and deaf and dumb&mdash;for surging and beating
-within his heart was the stormy, o'er-mastering human feeling. He
-only knew that the woman to whom he bent the knee in this mad,
-idolatrous love was lost to him, he only felt that fate had
-snatched her from him for ever! The sister started, as his
-deathly face presented itself. With scarcely human utterance, he
-asked for the Lady Beatrice, and after a few moments, the
-messenger returned, and a folded paper was put in his hand. He
-read:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "The Lord keepeth thee from all evil:
-   may the Lord keep thy soul!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-And she, with her intenser passion, clinging steadily, loving
-unselfishly, as only a woman can, gave him up; yielded her costly
-tribute to the faith which taught her that loyalty to God
-demands, if need be, all that life and love can give. Then, faint
-and weary, bruised and suffering, yet staunch and true to her
-faith as she was, the holy church opened its arms to her,
-comforting the broken spirit, healing the bleeding heart, and
-blessing her with the precious benediction that brings its calm
-to those who seek the life that dieth not. In deeds of unselfish
-love and sacrifice, she passed her days; all the strength within
-her clinging to the cross, all the human passion purified,
-glorified into the worship of the Lamb whose blood had made her
-whiter than snow. And safe in her haven, the dove of peace rested
-upon her heart; for the "fellowship of the Holy Ghost" had
-sanctified her: and thus, when her summers were yet in their
-flush, she passed away to God.
-</p>
-<p>
-But he forgot her in the years that came after, and found
-happiness in the fair English Protestant, whose children heired
-the broad lands of the brave Mohuns. Verily man's love is
-fleeting, but in God is eternal life; and while we pay our
-tribute to one who was so strong in resisting, we pray that all
-who are thus tempted may likewise prove ready to yield all for
-the faith.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_690">{690}</a></span>
-<br>
-  <h2>The Struggle Between Letter And Spirit In The Jewish Church.</h2>
-
-
-  <h3>Conference Preached In The Cathedral Of Notre Dame,<br>
-  In Paris, By R. Pere Hyacinthe, January 3, 1869.</h3>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-  Littera occidit, spiritus autem vivificat.<br>
-  "The letter killeth; but the spirit giveth life."
-
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  [It is due to R. P. Hyacinthe to say that the following
-  translation is made from a short-hand report, published in the
-  <i>Semaine Religieuse de Paris</i>. In style, in development of
-  ideas, the <i>compte rendu</i> is incomplete. But to us who
-  cannot listen to the great Carmelite's eloquence, in the nave
-  of Notre Dame, even an outline of this conference, so full of
-  fresh and healthy thought, will be acceptable.&mdash;TRANS.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Rev. P. Hyacinthe takes this text from St. Paul, at once as the
-basis and the summary of his entire conference. On previous
-occasions he had pointed out two elements in the Jewish Church,
-opposed to each other yet equally essential to the aims of that
-church; the one exclusive, securing the preservation of the
-sacred deposit of revelation; the other universal, insuring the
-diffusion of this deposit throughout the whole human race. These
-two elements he now calls, in the language of the apostle,
-<i>letter</i> and <i>spirit</i>. According to the letter, the
-Bible&mdash;that is to say, the Old Testament, is exclusive; according
-to the spirit, it is universal. The internal struggle of these
-two elements forms the history of Judaism, thoughtfully viewed.
-Their startling rupture during the life of Jesus Christ
-introduced the Christian era, inaugurated the Catholic Church. As
-sons of that holy and infallible church, we need not fear the
-triumph of the letter; but as members of a church composed of and
-governed by imperfect men and sinners, we should not disregard
-the struggles of the letter for predominance. Let us, then,
-review the profitable history of these combats between letter and
-spirit in the bosom of Judaism, considering successively the
-representatives of the letter and the representatives of the
-spirit in the Jewish Church.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-  I. The Representatives Of The Letter.
-</p>
-<p>
-These were the kings and priests. The kings represented the
-letter in the political order; the priests, in the religious
-order.
-</p>
-<p>
-I. David prophesied, "He shall rule from sea to sea, and from the
-river unto the ends of the earth. And all kings of the earth
-shall adore him; all nations shall serve him." And discerning in
-the far-off radiance that one among his sons whom he called the
-Anointed, the Christ <i>par excellence</i>, he said, or let the
-Lord say by his lips: "Sit thou at my right hand until I make thy
-enemies thy footstool. With thee is the principality in the day
-of thy strength: in the brightness of the saints: from the womb
-before the day star I begot thee."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_691">{691}</a></span>
-<p>
-In the throne of the son of David, the God-engendered, two
-royalties were united: a temporal royalty, created to reign over
-the house of Jacob, confined within the narrow limits of its own
-blood, <i>regnabit in domo Jacob</i>; and a royalty destined to
-extend throughout all humanity, within the wide boundary of the
-faith of Abraham, <i>regnabit in aeternumn</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-The danger lay in confounding these two royalties, in absorbing
-the celestial in the terrestrial royalty&mdash;an error so frequent in
-similar unions. To this danger succumbed the synagogue.
-</p>
-<p>
-In a national church, or in a religious nation, no peril is more
-imminent, none more fatal, than the confusion of religious and
-political forms. [Footnote 168] Already great while remaining
-human, for such it is in character and origin, political thought
-becomes still greater in ascending to the heavenly spheres of
-morality and religion. But religion shrinks in dimensions,
-abdicating its true position, revolting against human instinct,
-and wounding the attributes of Divine Majesty, when it assumes
-political forms, adopting the ideas, the habits, the paltry
-interests of politics.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 168: Lest those who may be unacquainted with
-    previous conferences of Père Hyacinthe should interpret this
-    passage as referring to the temporal power, we subjoin a
-    quotation from a conference delivered by him in Notre Dame in
-    the year 1867. Speaking of the complications caused by
-    placing political power and religious power in the same
-    hands, R. P. Hyacinthe says: "Nowhere under the sun of the
-    Catholic world do I find this dreadful confusion. If you bid
-    me look toward Rome, it is not the confusion, it is the
-    exceptional alliance of the two powers that I hail in that
-    place, itself exceptional as a miracle. Beneficent alliance,
-    knot of the liberty of conscience, never to be united,
-    because it unites there what it must separate elsewhere,
-    never were you more fearfully necessary to us than now! You
-    have received the testimony of French blood, shed by those
-    who have been called mercenaries while they are simply
-    heroes! You are defended by the eloquent words, the national
-    words of our orators, by the energetic and loyal declarations
-    of our government."
-<br><br>
-    In a conference preached at Rome during the Lent of 1868, R.
-    P. Hyacinthe compares those who urge the church to throw
-    aside the temporal power, and lead a purely supernatural
-    existence, to Satan tempting Christ to cast himself from the
-    pinnacle of the temple, that angels may bear him up.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Such, however, was the kingdom which kings, and the partisans of
-kings, persistently dreamed of giving to humanity. For one single
-instant, under David, that prophetic ideal foreseen and pictured
-by the prophet king shone with unblemished purity, soon to be
-veiled under the worldly, (we will speak in plain terms,) under
-the pagan ideal of Solomon.
-</p>
-<p>
-Solomon was a great king, especially at the outset of his career.
-He was always great, even in his errors and crimes. But
-intoxicated with the science of nature, which he possessed, says
-the inspired text, from the cedar growing on the summit of
-Lebanon to the hyssop piercing the cracks of the walls, Solomon,
-not content with knowledge leading to God, wished to possess all
-the riches and the loves of earth. He built him palaces bearing
-little resemblance to the palm-tree beneath which Deborah
-administered justice, or to the tents where David camped with his
-soldiers; palaces so sumptuous that the queen of Sheba came from
-the depths of Arabia to admire them. He had harems filled with
-women, chiefly foreigners and idolaters; seven hundred sultanas
-and three hundred concubines! Then letting this inebriation
-mount, I will not say from heart, but from sense to brain, he
-fell down with his women at the feet of all their idols,
-venerating, under poetic symbols, that great nature which is the
-work of God and so easily takes the place of God.
-</p>
-<p>
-Such was the spectacle presented by Jerusalem under the successor
-of David&mdash;a hideous spectacle, but made less repulsive in the
-days of Solomon by a glory he had no power to bequeath to his
-heirs in Judah and to his Israelitish emulators. He left them
-only his pride, his sensuality, his idolatry; and when the two
-inimical yet analogous monarchies succumbed at last beneath the
-blows of powerful neighbors, of those northern conquerors whose
-favors they had so often solicited, and whose arms they had so
-often braved, they left behind them, in the history of the holy
-nation, a long track of mire and blood.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_692">{692}</a></span>
-<p>
-Such was the royalty of Judea, such the royalty of Israel;
-promised to the world under the name of the kingdom of God!
-</p>
-<p>
-So perverted were the Jews by their kings&mdash;or, to speak more
-justly, for we must not misjudge these kings, so perverted were
-they by national pride, that they could not throw aside this
-gross ideal, but contemplated still, under the profaned name of
-the kingdom of God, the domination of races with the sword and
-with a rod of iron. When the true Messiah, Jesus, came to them,
-they misunderstood him, chiefly because he rejected this low and
-narrow royalty, proclaiming the true principle of the kingdom of
-God&mdash;a spiritual kingdom which should be in the world, but not of
-the world; <i>regnum meum non est de hoc mundo;</i> a spiritual
-kingdom which comes to bear witness of the truth, <i>ego in hoc
-natus sum et ad hoc veni in mundum, ut testimonium perhibeam
-veritati.</i> They preferred, before him, the seditious Barabbas,
-who had fought in the streets of Jerusalem, shedding blood to
-deliver them from the Romans. They preferred, before him, all the
-false Messiahs, all the impotent and treacherous Christs, who
-closed their mad career by precipitating the ruin of the nation,
-the city, and the temple they had pretended to save.
-</p>
-<p>
-Break, then, vase of Jewish nationality! formed so lovingly by
-God through the hand of Moses; royal and sacerdotal vessel,
-break! since thou wilt have it so. Thou wert formed to keep the
-treasures of religious life for all humanity; thou didst close
-upon thyself in jealous egotism; break! and let thy shivered
-atoms, scattered through the world, spread abroad the balm which
-shall intoxicate all nations. "The vase was shattered," says Holy
-Writ, "and the whole house was filled with the odor." <i>Et domus
-impleta est ex odore unguenti.</i>
-</p>
-<p>
-What kings effected in the political order, priests accomplished
-in the religious order. Indeed, fatal as is the mistake of
-confounding religious with political forms, still more lamentable
-is the error of identifying, within the very heart of religion,
-accidental and accessory forms with essential forms. Every
-religion&mdash;above all, the true religion, the Christian
-religion&mdash;going back to Moses, Abraham, Adam, is not merely a
-religious idea, a religious sentiment, as it pleases contemporary
-rationalism to call it. It is a fact, and therefore has positive
-forms; it is a living fact, and therefore has a determined
-organism. But, placed amid time and space, the fact of religion
-must consider the varying conditions of space, the changing
-conditions of time. Its organism must discharge its functions
-amid dissimilar or even contradictory surroundings. Therefore,
-side by side with substantial, permanent forms, we find variable,
-accessory forms, clothing the first, so to speak, according to
-the exigencies of races and centuries. By trying to confound
-religion with accessory forms peculiar to certain countries or
-races, we should isolate it from the great current of humanity in
-the present. By trying to bind it to worn-out forms, we should
-isolate it from the great current of humanity in the future. We
-should misinterpret St. Paul's words to the ancient synagogue:
-"<i>Quod autem antiquatur et senescit, prope interitum est</i>."
-No worse service could be rendered to religious unity. On this
-shoal the Jewish priesthood stranded.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_693">{693}</a></span>
-<p>
-I would speak respectfully of that priesthood. Last Sunday we
-inhaled the perfume of its censers, we listened to the harmony of
-its canticles. The rod of Aaron had not blossomed in his hands in
-vain, and in the ancient tabernacle we almost adored the body of
-Christ Jesus prefigured in the manner, the word of Christ Jesus
-prepared in the decalogue. But however respectable in origin and
-essence the Levitical priesthood, it no longer merits respect,
-corrupted as it now is; or, at least, corrupted as are most of
-its members. This corruption bears a special name, pharisaism.
-</p>
-<p>
-Is pharisaism hypocrisy? No. Whatever the dictionary may say, in
-the biblical sense pharisaism is not hypocrisy, unless in that
-subtle form, at once most innocent and most fatal, that
-unconscious hypocrisy which believes itself sincere. Jesus often
-said, "Pharisees, hypocrites," <i>pharisaei, hypocriae</i>; but
-he explained this expression by another, "Blind guides,"
-<i>pharisaee caece</i>. And the great apostle Paul, himself a
-pharisee, reared, as he says, at the feet of the pharisee
-Gamaliel, bears witness in a striking manner to their sincere
-zeal for God, <i>habent zelum Dei</i>, but not according to
-knowledge, <i>sed non secundum scientiam</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-Pharisaism, thoughtfully considered, is religious blindness, the
-blindness of priestly depositaries of the letter, who think they
-guard it best by explaining it least; blindness bearing on all
-points of the sacred deposit&mdash;blindness in dogma, predominance of
-formula over truth; blindness in morals, predominance of external
-works over interior justice; blindness in worship, predominance
-of external rites over religious feeling. Blindness in dogma.
-They taught the truth. "The scribes and pharisees sit on the
-chair of Moses," said Christ; "all, therefore, whatsoever they
-shall say to you, observe and do: but according to their works do
-ye not; for they say, and do not."
-</p>
-<p>
-There is no revealed idea enlightening and vivifying the world
-that has not words to contain it: <i>lucerna verbum tuum,
-domine</i>. But when speech compresses itself, when it encloses
-the idea as in a jealously narrow prison, obscuring and choking
-it, that is pharisaism. That is what the apostle Paul called
-guarding the word, but keeping it captive in iniquity. That is
-what forced from the meek lips of our Saviour Jesus the terrible
-anathema <i>Vae vobis!</i> "Wo to you who have taken the key of
-knowledge, and will not enter, and all those who would try to
-enter, you prevent."
-</p>
-<p>
-In morals, it is exterior works, it is a multiplicity of human
-practices, resting like a despicably tyrannical load upon the
-conscience, making it forget, in unhealthy dreams, that it is an
-honest man's conscience, a Christian conscience. The pharisees
-said to Jesus Christ, "Why do thy disciples transgress the
-traditions of the ancients? for they wash not their hands when
-they eat bread." And our Saviour replied, "Why do you trample
-under foot the commandments of God, to keep the commandments of
-men?" Rites are essential to worship, as formula is essential to
-dogma&mdash;wo to him who tears the formula of biblical revelation, or
-the formula of the definitions of the church; and, since works
-are essential to morality, wo to him who sleeps in a dead and
-sterile faith, without works.
-</p>
-<p>
-Worship! but worship is the expansion of the religious soul; it
-is the heart's emotion rising odorous and harmonious to God. It
-is action working from within outward; it is, also, the not less
-legitimate reaction from without inward. Rites elevate religious
-feeling, and arouse inspiration in heart and conscience.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_694">{694}</a></span>
-<p>
-But when there is no religious feeling, when heart and conscience
-bend beneath the weight of exterior practices; "Yea, verily,"
-said Jesus Christ again, (for the gospels are full of these
-things; the gospels are the eternal reprobation of pharisaism,)
-yea, verily, the prophet Isaias spoke truly when he said, "This
-people honoreth me with their lips, and with their hands, but
-their heart is far from me."
-</p>
-<p>
-This is the yoke of which St. Peter said, "You would impose it on
-the head of nations; neither our fathers nor we have been able to
-bear it." This is the smothered and exhausted breath with which
-they thought to renew the world. This is not the Judaism of
-Moses, but the decrepit Judaism of the scribes and pharisees.
-When the entire world, by the eloquent lips of Greece and Rome,
-asked of the East salvation; when, by the sudden stir of
-barbarians quivering in the depths of Germany and Scythia, the
-world demanded light and civilization, this was offered to them!
-Judaism became the more inadmissible as the world had more need
-of it. Pharisaism, in its blind fanaticism, stood before the
-gates of the kingdom of heaven to prevent generations from
-entering.
-</p>
-<p>
-Away! men of the letter; away! enemies of humanity.
-<i>Adversantur omnibus hominibus</i>, says St. Paul. And thou,
-Jesus, arise, my Saviour and God!&mdash;thou who wert moved by wrath
-twice only in thy life! Jesus felt no anger against poor sinners.
-He sat at their table; and when the woman taken in adultery fell
-at his feet, burning with shame and weeping with remorse, he
-raised her up, thinking only of absolving her: "Go in peace, and
-sin no more." He felt no anger against heretics and schismatics.
-He sat by Jacob's well, beside the woman of Samaria, announcing
-to her, with the salvation which comes from the Jews, <i>quia
-salus ex Judaeis est</i>, worship in spirit and in truth. But
-Jesus was moved with wrath on two occasions: once, scourge in
-hand, against those who sold the things of God in the temple, and
-again, with malediction on his lips, against those who perverted
-the things of God in the law.
-</p>
-<p>
-Arise, then, meek Lamb! arise in thy pacific wrath against the
-enemies of all men, and against the true enemies of God's
-kingdom! Arise and drive them from the temple! Thus did the
-synagogue perish, and the Christian Church come to life.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-  II. The Representatives Of The Spirit.
-</p>
-<p>
-I have said (and you already knew it) that we have nothing to
-fear from the triumphs of the <i>letter</i>. Yet we cannot
-overlook the struggles and temptations, not only of every
-priesthood, but of all pious persons; the temptation of the
-faithful, as well as of priests, to allow the letter to
-predominate over the spirit. Let us glorify God because we are
-born in a holy and infallible church, which Jesus Christ
-protects, and will protect until the consummation of his work, in
-the course of ages, against the ignorance of our minds and the
-weakness of our wills.
-</p>
-<p>
-But what voice strikes my ear? These are no longer the coarse
-tones of earthly domination, nor of carnal legislation. Nor yet
-is it a Christian voice, the voice of Christ speaking to us a
-moment ago; but, though anterior to Christ, how like to him it
-sounds:
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_695">{695}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Hear the word of the Lord, ye rulers of Sodom; give ear to the
-  law of our God, ye people of Gomorrha," saith the voice; and
-  yet it is speaking to the church of Sion. "To what purpose do
-  you offer me the multitude of your victims, saith the Lord? I
-  am full; I desire not holocausts of rams, and fat of fatlings,
-  and blood of calves, and lambs, and buck-goats. Offer sacrifice
-  no more in vain: incense is an abomination to me. The new
-  moons, and the sabbaths, and other festivals, I will not abide;
-  your assemblies are wicked. My soul hateth your new moons, and
-  your solemnities: they are become troublesome to me; I am weary
-  of bearing them. And when you stretch forth your hands, I will
-  turn away my eyes from you: and when you multiply prayer, I
-  will not hear: for your hands are full of blood.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Wash yourselves, be clean, take away the evil of your devices
-  from my eyes: cease to do perversely, learn to do well: seek
-  judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge for the fatherless,
-  defend the widow. And then come and accuse me, saith the Lord:
-  if your sins be as scarlet, they shall be made as white as
-  snow: and if they be red as crimson, they shall be white as
-  wool."
-</p>
-<p>
-This is the voice of Mosaic spirituality in all its energy and
-light. How different from the pharisaism we were speaking of just
-now; from the letter, smothering beneath its murderous weight
-reason, conscience, and heart! How like the gospel, the law of
-Christ, with its two commandments: an insatiable hunger, an
-inextinguishable thirst after righteousness, and a heart ever
-open to mercy! Ah! I feel that this is no local law, no national
-organization, no restricted or temporary code. It is the law of
-all people and of all ages. It needs but the breath of St. Paul
-to bear it from one end of the world to the other.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the voice of the Spirit still speaks&mdash;no longer, now, of the
-carnal law, but of the earthly <i>kingdom:</i>
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "And in the last days, the mountain of the house of the Lord
-  shall be prepared on the top of mountains, and it shall be
-  exalted above the hills: and all nations shall flow into it,
-  <i>fluent ad eum omnes gentes</i>. And many people shall go,
-  and say: Come and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, and
-  to the house of Jacob, and he will teach us his ways, and we
-  will walk in his paths: for the law shall come forth from Sion,
-  and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem, <i>quia de Sion exibit
-  lex et verbum Domini de Jerusalem.</i> Come, let us break our
-  swords and make ploughshares; let us shatter our lances and
-  turn them into sickles, for the anointed of the Lord will reign
-  in justice and peace; all idols shall be broken, <i>et idola
-  penitus conterentur</i>, and in those days the Eternal shall
-  alone be great."
-</p>
-<p>
-Such was the future <i>disfigured</i> by kings and the successors
-of kings. Understand it well; this is not oppression, but
-deliverance! It belongs to the letter to impose itself by force;
-this is its necessity; it has no other way, if this can be called
-a way. To the spirit belongs the appeal summoning us to the
-liberty of man and the liberty of God. <i>Ubi spiritus, ibi
-libertas</i>. "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is
-liberty." Therefore, I do not see in the Messiah's hands a sword
-besmeared and gory. I see nations rise up spontaneously, like a
-sea shuddering to its deepest abysses. <i>Fluent ad eum omnes
-gentes;</i> this is not servitude; it is deliverance. This is not
-the reign of the Messiah victor; but it is the reign of the
-Messiah liberator.
-</p>
-<p>
-But you ask me whose is this voice preaching a spiritual kingdom
-to priests, a divine royalty to kings and nations? The voice
-shall interpret itself; it shall tell its origin and mission.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here Père Hyacinthe relates the famous vision in which Isaiah
-receives his mission after a seraph has purified his lips with a
-burning coal. This is prophecy.
-</p>
-<p>
-And were not prophets and saints; necessary to the Jewish Church,
-as they are necessary to the Catholic Church? The two beggars in
-the dream of Innocent III. upholding the crumbling Lateran
-basilica, as if symbolizing the decadence of the hierarchical
-church in the middle ages; those two mendicants, Dominic de
-Guzman and Francis of Assisi, what were they but prophets of the
-New Testament, sprung not from the hereditary tradition of ages,
-but from the living kiss of Jehovah?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_696">{696}</a></span>
-Yes, we need saints, we need prophets&mdash;that is to say, men of
-love, martyrs; men of vision who read not only according to the
-letter but according to the spirit, who see God in the vision of
-their reason enlightened by faith; in the ecstasy of their
-conscience elevated by grace. "I have seen the Lord with my
-eyes"&mdash;<i>Oculis meis vidi Dominum</i>. We need men who speak to
-him face to face like Moses, and, above all, men who love him
-heart to heart, and pass through the struggles of days and ages,
-struggles only to be fully understood by contemplating them in
-the final future. <i>Vidit ultima, et consolatus est lugentes in
-Sion.</i> Such men were the prophets.
-</p>
-<p>
-They were <i>seers</i>. They saw the future. They did not look
-only upon the present, so accurately fitted to the measure of
-narrow minds and hearts. They did not return with cowardly tears
-toward the past, never to be born again. It was for Gentiles, for
-pagan antiquity, to dream of a golden age for ever lost. The
-prophets, gazing into the future, saw the golden age of Eden
-reappear, under a form more full and lasting, at the gates of
-heaven, yet still upon the earth.
-</p>
-<p>
-The prophets believed in the future because they believed in God.
-They believed in progress; they were in all antiquity the only
-men of progress. Antiquity did not believe in it, not even
-knowing its name. But the prophets believed in the most
-incredible and the most necessary of all progress, moral and
-religious progress. They believed in it despite the fall, or
-rather because of the fall and of the redemption. To them evil
-did not lie in radical vice, essential to our nature, or in the
-inflexible decree of destiny; it was in the liberty of man, and
-must find its remedy in the liberty of God. If God had allowed
-the starting-point of man to recoil, be cause of sin, into the
-abyss, it was in order to raise, through the redemption; his goal
-to the very heavens. From the summits to which their faith lifted
-them, they saw salvation spread from individuals to nations, from
-nations to the human race, from the human race to all nature.
-</p>
-<p>
-Such was progress to the prophets; such the future universal Sion
-they hailed in the future? Isaiah prophesied it in the existence
-and in the relative prosperity of Jerusalem. Jeremiah mingled it
-with tears shed over the smoking ruins of his beloved city.
-Ezechiel in the bosom of captivity pictured Sion, no longer
-Jewish, but humanitarian, where all nations were to find their
-place. He engraved upon the pediment of the gates this immortal
-device, "The Lord is there;" <i>Dominus ibidem</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-II. This was what the prophets, men of faith in vision and men of
-vision in faith, believed and respected. This was the object of
-their love, for they were men of understanding, and also men of
-heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-I do not love Utopians, I do not love thought which dwells
-exclusively in the future, feeding on sterile and chimerical
-dreams. I love men of the future who are also men of the present;
-contemplatives, but workers too. The prophets were workers. They
-did not love the future in the future, but in the present where
-it germinates. They did not love humanity in humanity&mdash;too
-abstract if it be an idea, too vast if it embrace all
-individuals; they loved humanity in their nation; they loved the
-typical Jerusalem of their vision in their terrestrial Jerusalem
-of their existence.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_697">{697}</a></span>
-<p>
-I love to follow them in their writings; to see them rise up in
-the face of every national fact, every religious fact of that
-gross people&mdash;rise up to meet every evil deed with anathema, to
-consecrate in the Lord's name every moral or religious act
-tending toward true progress. I love to see them go down into the
-deep ravines, to the borders of the torrent of Cedron, where the
-Messiah was to drink before lifting up his head; climb the abrupt
-acclivity to the citadel, to the temple where Jesus was to teach;
-traverse the public squares where ever and anon the wind from the
-desert, as if to mock their hopes, caught up the dust beneath the
-burning sun and flung it in their faces.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, in the ravine, in the citadel, and in the temple of Sion, in
-the streets possessed by the whirlwind, everywhere in that city
-environed with their love and their devotion, they saw that Sion
-which was to grow up in its bosom and embrace the world. They
-loved the future; they loved humanity in God; they loved them in
-the house of Abraham and in the church of Jesus Christ.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the presence of these great examples, let me say to you of the
-love of country all that I have said of domestic love. We no
-longer know, or rather we no longer rightly know, what it is to
-love country and people; to see and love, in them, the city of
-humanity, the city of Jesus Christ, the city of time and
-eternity.
-</p>
-<p>
-III. Men of vision and of love, the prophets were also men of
-combat, and, when necessary, martyrs, soldiers, and victims. No
-man passes without effort that Red Sea which separates present
-and future. The prophets crossed it bearing with them on their
-vigorous shoulders the ark of God and the ark of mankind. But
-what combats and struggles!&mdash;struggles majestic as their visions
-and their love. They shrunk from them in their infirm human
-nature; they dreaded these struggles. They knew that the word of
-God ends by slaying those who hear it: "I have slain them, saith
-the Lord, in the word of my mouth." "Ah Lord God!" cried
-Jeremiah, "behold I cannot speak, for I am a child;" and the Lord
-answered, "Say not, I am a child; for thou shalt go to all that I
-shall send thee: and whatsoever I shall command thee thou shalt
-speak. Behold, I have given my words in thy mouth. Lo, I have set
-thee this day over the nations, and over kingdoms, to root up and
-to pull down, and to waste and to destroy, and to build and to
-plant. For, behold, I have made thee this day a fortified city,
-and a pillar of iron, and a wall of brass, over all the land, to
-the kings of Judea, to the princes thereof, and to the priests
-and to the people of the land. And they shall fight against thee
-and shall not prevail, for I am with thee to deliver thee."
-</p>
-<p>
-And to Ezechiel, colleague and successor of Jeremiah, God ever
-spoke the language of struggle: "Fear not; I send thee to an
-apostate people that hath revolted from me, <i>ad gentem
-apostatricem;</i> but I have made thy face stronger than their
-faces, and thy forehead harder than their foreheads; I have made
-thy face like an adamant and like flint. I will set thee up like
-a wall of iron and like a city of brass, for I will be with
-thee."
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus did the prophets struggle for that Sion which fought against
-them, repudiating them. They never forsook it, they always loved
-and always served it.
-</p>
-<p>
-We are about to part for another year. Let me entreat you now to
-unite yourselves with me in a consecration to that kingdom of
-God, to that church whose courts we have traversed. Christianity
-is not of today nor of yesterday. It belongs not merely to the
-historical period of Jesus Christ and his apostles.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_698">{698}</a></span>
-It comes from David, from Abraham, it comes to us from Adam, our
-father, our king, our pontiff. In this unique religion, this
-church changeable in form, immovable in foundation, friends,
-brothers&mdash;let me use words which come from my heart&mdash;let us
-consecrate ourselves, following the example of the prophets, to
-the love and service of God's kingdom. The kingdom of God is for
-ever established in Christianity, in the Catholic, Apostolic,
-Roman Church. But, as I said just now, this church must ever pass
-from form to form&mdash;<i>de forme en forme</i>-from brightness to
-brightness&mdash;<i>transformamur claritate in claritatem</i>&mdash;until
-her pacific empire shall cover the whole earth, until with
-humanity she shall attain the age of the perfect man in Christ
-Jesus.
-</p>
-<p>
-Do we not wish to work for this kingdom? What are we to do if not
-that? What are the works of our public and private life if they
-do not relate finally to the kingdom of truth, justice, charity,
-to all which constitutes Christianity, to the Catholic and
-Apostolic Roman Church? I do not ask you to love her as she does
-not wish to be loved&mdash;to love her as a sect is loved, as the
-gross Jews loved the synagogue, with a heart and mind restricted
-to the letter. I do not ask you to love our grand Catholic Church
-by glorifying the infirmities of her life, which are your
-infirmities and mine; or by condemning all the truths professed
-and all the virtues practised outside of her by men who are often
-her sons without knowing it. No; let us have no sectarian love! I
-ask you to love the church with the heart of the church herself;
-with a heart commensurate only with the heart of Jesus Christ,
-<i>dilatamini et vos</i>. "You are not straitened in us," said
-St. Paul to the Corinthians; "but in your own bowels you are
-straitened. But having the same recompense, (I speak as to my own
-children,) be you also enlarged." <i>Dilatamini et vos</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-Before leaving you, let me tell you the secret of my youth. Let
-me speak to you of the day of my priestly consecration, when in
-this nave, less crowded then than it is to-day, stretched upon
-that icy pavement, filled with burning palpitations, I was
-sustained, I was inebriated with one thought&mdash;the conviction that
-I had but one love and one service, the kingdom of God and
-humanity.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yes, let us love the church in every man, and every man in the
-church! What matters condition? Rich or poor, ignorant or
-learned, <i>omnibus debitor sum</i>, I am every man's debtor,
-says St. Paul. What matters country? Whether Frenchman or
-foreigner, Greek or barbarian, <i>omnibus debitor sum</i>, I
-answer with St. Paul. I am the debtor of barbarism as of
-civilization. In a certain sense, what matters even religion, if
-we would love a man?
-</p>
-<p>
-Ah! if he is not a son of the Catholic Church in the body, by
-external union, he is so, perhaps&mdash;he is, I hope, in the soul, by
-invisible union. If he is a son of the Catholic Church neither
-according to the body nor in the spirit, nor in the letter, he is
-so at least by preparation in the design of God. If the water of
-baptism is not on his brow, I grieve to know it; but I see there
-the blood of Jesus Christ, for Jesus Christ died for all, opening
-wide his arms to all the world upon the cross! The world belongs
-to Jesus Christ, therefore the world belongs to the church, if
-not in act, at least in power. Let me, then, love all men; and
-you, too, love all men with me&mdash;not only in person, not only in
-their narrow earthly individuality, but in the great Christian
-community, in the great divine community which summons each and
-all.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_699">{699}</a></span>
-<p>
-When Moses, founder of the Jewish church, died on the mountain
-within sight of the land of promise, the Hebrew text says that he
-died in the kiss of Jehovah. Before dying let us learn to live in
-the kiss of Jehovah, which is also the kiss of all humanity. O
-holy Church! thou art more than man and thou art more than
-God&mdash;than God alone in heaven, than man alone on earth. O holy
-Church! thou art the kiss of God to man, the kiss of man to God;
-the embrace of all men, all races, all ages, in the flame of
-universal and eternal love. "He who abideth in love abideth in
-God, and God abideth in him."
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-    <h2>A Sketch Of Leo X. And His Age.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-In the annals of literature and art, the name of Florence peers
-above that of any other Italian city, Rome excepted. Here were
-the poets who tuned the Italian language and made it the most
-musical of modern idioms; here was the illustrious astronomer,
-who was not the discoverer of a planet, but the revealer of the
-whole celestial machinery; and here, too, were the artist and
-politician who were not only the first sculptors and statesmen of
-their time, but the inventors of the very art and craft in which
-they excelled. Every day the pilgrim scholar arrives at her gates
-and requests to be shown the monuments of her great men, and
-every day genius worships at the shrine of genius.
-</p>
-<p>
-At the time of which we write, the middle ages had seen their
-palmiest days, when a Charlemagne courteously entertained
-ambassadors from the Mussulmans of Florence and the Caliphs of
-Bagdad, and when the flower of chivalry, headed by a valiant
-Philip, a lion-hearted Richard, and a sainted Louis, rushed to
-the plains of the east to battle with the Moslem foe; they had
-presided over the erection of those great Gothic piles whose
-sublime architecture towered to the clouds, and had beheld the
-pontiffs of Rome issuing orders for the foundation of
-universities not only in Italy, but on the very outskirts of the
-civilized world; [Footnote 169] and finally they had seen the
-laborious and prolific genius of the schoolmen multiplying
-inventions and discoveries, fathoming the profound depths of
-theological science, and disserting on those great metaphysical
-problems, which, like so many apples of discord, have caused
-endless dissension and controversy among modern philosophers.
-[Footnote 170]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [Footnote 169: Gibbon tells us in a foot-note to his <i>Decline
-  and Fall of the Roman Empire</i> that, "at the end of the
-  fifteenth century, there were about fifty universities in
-  Europe." Though this is indeed a glorious tribute, considering
-  from whom it came, paid to the mediaeval ages, we are, however,
-  more inclined to believe with the <i>New American
-  Cyclopaedia</i> that, "before the year 1500, there were over
-  sixty-four universities in Europe."]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [Footnote 170: Mackintosh says, "Scarcely any metaphysical
-  controversy agitated among recent philosophers was unknown to
-  the schoolmen." (<i>Dissertation on the Progress of Ethical
-  Philosophy</i>.)]
-</p>
-<p>
-But before these great medieval ages had reached their terminus,
-they again shone forth with brilliant splendor. That, indeed, was
-a glorious epoch in the world's history, when the most important
-invention recorded in the annals of mankind came forth from the
-brain of Guttenberg; when the stormy Atlantic was first ploughed
-by adventurous keels, and new worlds discovered; when letters,
-philosophy, and the fine arts were cultivated in such schools as
-the Medicean palaces, and were patronized by such men as Cosmo
-and Lorenzo de' Medici.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_700">{700}</a></span>
-<p>
-Under the enlightened patronage of these princely merchants,
-Florence became the Athens of Italy, and one of the favorite
-retreats of the muses. Her public halls were crowded with youths
-eager to listen to an eloquent hellenist, expatiating upon the
-beauties of Homer; her poets sang in the idiom of the great
-Mantuan; her philosophers were smitten with love for the divine
-Plato; and her scholars were so well read in antiquity, that
-students from every country came thither, to slake their thirst
-at what was then considered the fountain-head of ancient lore.
-The gardens of the Medici recalled the groves of the Academies in
-which the Athenian philosopher descanted upon human and divine
-things, and the shady porches of the Lyceum, in which the
-Stagirite perambulated whilst delivering his sublime lessons.
-</p>
-<p>
-A great bustle might have been observed in these gardens on the
-11th of December, 1475; artists and humanists were vieing with
-one another in congratulating Lorenzo the Magnificent on the
-birth of his second son, who, in memory of his paternal uncle,
-was christened Giovanni. Lorenzo was proud of his little
-Benjamin, and he listened with complacency to those who admired
-his keen, restless eye, his pure and noble forehead, his flowing
-hair and snowy neck. In contemplating the sweet expression of his
-countenance, the poet declared that he would revive classic
-literature; and the Neoplatonician predicted a bright era for
-philosophy; whilst a fugitive Hellene read in the Greek profile
-of the infant happy days for his dispersed countrymen; and an old
-sage, endowed with Simeon-like prophecy, exclaimed, "My soul,
-praise the Lord! Giovanni shall be the honor of the sanctuary."
-</p>
-<p>
-The education of the young child's heart and the embellishment of
-his mind were, for his enlightened parents, objects of supreme
-importance. The former duty necessarily devolved upon themselves;
-and how well they succeeded was best shown by the mild and
-placable temper, polished manners, and kind and affable
-disposition of their little favorite; the latter they entrusted
-to scholars whose names even then were running through the
-schools of Europe, especially to Politiano, one of the best
-classical writers of the <i>renaissance</i>, and the preceptor of
-a pleiad of illustrious men. Naturally docile, well endowed with
-parts, in constant intercourse with men of rank and talent,
-Giovanni acquired a dignity of deportment, a facility of
-conversation, and a fund of knowledge, much beyond his years. At
-sixteen, he had completed the curriculum of Pisa, was graduated
-doctor and invested with the insignia of the cardinalate, and
-thus entitled to take his seat among the princes of the church.
-These precocious acquirements and early preferments ought to have
-ripened into days of serenity; but no, they were more like the
-calm that precedes the storm. Brought up in the school of
-prosperity, he was to acquire his last finish amidst the rude
-trials of adversity. Before attaining the highest dignity that
-can adorn the brow of man, he was destined to experience the
-instability of human affairs and the fickleness of men. The death
-of his father, and the demise of his munificent protector,
-Innocent VIII., inflicted deep wounds on his sensitive heart.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_701">{701}</a></span>
-In the mean time, a terrific storm was gathering in Florence. The
-inhabitants of this metropolis, exasperated at the seemingly
-unpatriotic conduct of Piero de' Medici, his elder brother,
-expelled from within their walls even the last scion of their
-noblest family; something like the ungrateful Athenians, who
-ostracized the very man on whom they had conferred the title of
-just. To cheer the dreary hours of exile, no less than to enrich
-his mind with useful knowledge, the expatriated cardinal resolved
-upon visiting the principal cities of Europe. Even here,
-difficulties and disquietudes unforeseen lurked in the background
-of the smiling ideal that he had formed of his itinerary. The
-suspicious authorities of Ulm and Rouen arrested the little
-caravan, and ordered him and his companions to confinement; the
-foaming billows deterred him from proceeding to England, and thus
-deprived him of the pleasure of visiting the land of Bede and of
-King Alfred. On his return, he was cast by a storm on the Genoese
-coast, and, thinking it advisable to relinquish his voyage,
-proceeded by land to Savona, where he met the celebrated Cardinal
-Della Rovere&mdash;a remarkable coincidence, if we consider that Della
-Rovere, Giulio de' Medici, and he himself were afterward raised
-to the dignity of the tiara. Notwithstanding all the afflictions
-that poured in on him, the future pontiff invariably preserved
-that equanimity of mind and amenity of manners which were the
-prominent features in his character. Better and brighter days
-were now about to dawn. The premature death of Piero, partially
-disarmed the hostility of the Florentines, and they finally threw
-open their gates to the illustrious representative of the
-time-honored family of the Medici. A year had hardly elapsed
-after his restoration before Rome was plunged into mourning by
-the death of that wary and energetic pontiff, Julius II. The
-conclave assembled immediately after the obsequies, and Cardinal
-de' Medici was called by the unanimous vote to the see of St.
-Peter. Giovanni de' Medici was now Leo X., and the choice of that
-name, as Erasmus spiritually remarks, was not without its
-significance. If Leo I. saved the eternal city from the ravages
-of the "scourge of God;" if Leo IV. again repelled from her walls
-the barbaric bands of Saracens, Leo X. was to make her the
-capital city of the republic of letters, as she was already the
-starry centre of the Christian world.
-</p>
-<p>
-Italy had already taken the lead in the restoration of ancient
-learning, and supplied the fire from which the other nations
-lighted their torches. [Footnote 171] As may easily be fancied,
-the elevation to the pontificate of the son of Lorenzo the
-Magnificent spontaneously awoke the most sanguine expectations of
-the artists and literati. In their fervor, they imagined that
-genius, worth, and talent could not remain unnoticed or
-unremunerated. "Under these impressions," says a Protestant
-writer, [Footnote 172]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 171: Hallam, <i>Literature of Europe</i>, vol. i.
-    ch. i.]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 172: Roscoe, <i>Life and Pontificate of Leo</i>,
-    vol. i. p. 306.]
-</p>
-<p>
-"Rome became, at once, the general resort of those who possessed
-or had pretensions to superior learning, industry, or ability.
-They all took it for granted that the supreme pontiff had no
-other objects of attention than to listen to their productions
-and to reward their labors." That their hopes were to be
-realized, was evident to all from the very first act of the new
-pontiff's administration, the selection as apostolic secretaries
-of Bembo and Sadoleti, two scholars who resume in themselves the
-intellectual life of the time&mdash;Sadoleti, a profound philosopher
-and the best exegete of his age; and Bembo, who emulated Virgil
-and Cicero with equal success, and recalled in his writings the
-elegance of Petrarch and Boccaccio. [Footnote 173]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 173: Bettinelli. It is to Bembo that we are
-    indebted for the restoration of the long-lost art of
-    abbreviated or shorthand writing.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_702">{702}</a></span>
-<p>
-A new era in literature and art was about to dawn; its first
-bright rays were for Italy, that "land of taste and sensibility."
-With a pontiff who could say, "I have always loved accomplished
-scholars and <i>belles-lettres</i>; this love was born with me,
-and age has but increased it; for literature is the ornament and
-glory of the church; and I have always remarked that it knits its
-cultivators more firmly to the dogmas of our faith;" with such a
-pontiff, the intellectual movement that then pervaded Italian
-society was nobly sustained and enlivened, until at last the
-golden age again reappeared on earth. All sorts of
-encouragements, such as honorary employments, lucrative offices,
-pecuniary gratuities, and even ecclesiastical preferments, were
-lavished upon talent and genius. Every latent energy luxuriantly
-budded forth and blossomed in the genial sunshine of such
-munificence.
-</p>
-<p>
-The academies of literary men philosophized on the banks of the
-Tiber or in the cool recesses of a fragrant villa. The lovers of
-the arts, the votaries of the muses, and the cultivators of
-polite literature sat side by side at the sumptuous banquets
-frequently given in the Vatican. At these grand entertainments
-all topics were convivially canvassed, and fancy soared aloft to
-delight the guests by her sublime improvisations. Popular
-favorites, like the poet of Arezzo and the "celestial" Accolte,
-read their productions in public halls to admiring multitudes;
-while the best scholars of the age, yielding to the invitation of
-Leo, filled the professorships of the great universities. Italy
-was then, in the beautiful words of Audin, "the promised land of
-the intellect;" [Footnote 174] and Rome the centre of learning
-and the nursery of great men. No wonder, then, that the
-snow-capped Alps presented but a feeble barrier to the
-transalpine scholar, and that every day some new Hannibal
-descended their craggy flanks and pushed forward to the
-seven-hilled city, to pay a courteous visit to the accomplished
-pontiff, and gratify a long-entertained desire of conversing with
-the celebrities of the age. The whole world thus recognized that
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-    "The fount at which the panting mind assuages
-  Her thirst of knowledge, quaffing there her fill,
-  Flows from th' eternal source of Rome's imperial hill."
-  [Footnote 175]
-</pre>
-</div>
-
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 174: <i>Vie de Luther</i>, vol. i. p. 179.]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 175: Byron, <i>Childe Harold</i>, Canto III.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Since the days of Petrarch, the Italian muse had all but hushed
-her lovely strains; her lyre was silent and unstrung. Politiano
-came, swept its music-breathing chords, and sent its sweet notes
-on the wings of the zephyrs throughout the Italian peninsula. All
-listened with rapture to the enchanting strains of the Tuscan
-siren, and, after a moment of hesitation, prepared their pens to
-write on every theme and to illustrate every department of
-science and letters. The classic models of heroic poetry, fresh
-from the Aldine presses or half consumed by the dust of ages,
-were taken down from their shelves and studied with passionate
-ardor. The children of song were delighted with the epic muse,
-and were now hard at work at their great poems.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_703">{703}</a></span>
-Mozarello elaborates his <i>Porsenna</i>; Querno, the archpoet,
-cadences the twenty thousand verses of his <i>Alexias</i>; Vida,
-like Horace of old, draws up the rules of the metrical art, and
-sings his <i>Christiad</i> in verses of Augustan purity and
-elegance; Ariosto, the Homer of Ferrara, condenses into his
-<i>Orlando Furioso</i> a vein of poetry so remarkable for its
-grace and energy as to leave it doubtful whether the palm of
-superiority should be awarded to him, or to the author of the
-<i>Jerusalem Delivered</i>. [Footnote 176] The terrible
-eventualities of tragedy and the more pleasing casualties of
-comedy were brought upon the stage by Trissino, Ruccellai, and
-Bibbiena; the protean burlesque assumed its most humorous forms
-under Berni's magic pen, and the shafts of satire were keenly
-pointed by Aretino, whose virulent epigrams drew upon him such an
-amount of physical retaliation that a contemporary writer calls
-him "the loadstone of clubs and daggers." [Footnote 177]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 176: Laharpe. <i>Cours de Littérature</i>, vol. i.
-    p. 435.]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 177: See Addison, <i>Spectator</i>, No. 23.]
-</p>
-<p>
-Guicciardini wrote the history of his country with the elegant
-diction of the great historians of Rome; Giovio's periods were so
-flowing as to make Leo X. declare that next to Livy he had not
-met with a more eloquent writer. The <i>Prince</i> of
-Macchiavelli enjoys a world-wide reputation, and his <i>History
-of Florence</i> is so remarkable for the beauty of its style,
-that it is said to have had more influence on Italian prose than
-any other work, except the <i>Decameron</i> of Boccaccio. Besides
-these reigning stars, there was a host of other literary
-celebrities who shed a brilliant lustre on Leo's golden reign.
-There was Fracastoro, who, at the early age of nineteen, had won
-the highest academic degree of the Paduan university, and was
-nominated to the professorship of logic; Navagero, whose aversion
-to an affected taste was so intense that he annually consigned to
-the flames a copy of Martial; Aleandro, who was only twenty-four
-when the celebrated Manuzio dedicated to him his edition of the
-<i>Iliad</i>, alleging as a reason for conferring this honor on a
-person so young, that his acquirements were beyond those of any
-other person with whom he was acquainted, and it is well known
-that the Venetian typographer was the friend and correspondent of
-almost all the literary characters of the day; Augurelli, whom a
-contemporary historian calls the most learned and elegant
-preceptor of his time; Castiglione, who was called by Charles V.
-the most accomplished gentleman of the age; Leonardo da Vinci,
-who, long before the philosopher of Verulam, proclaimed
-experiment the base of the physical sciences, and, before the
-astronomer of Thorne, taught the annual motion of the earth; and
-Calcagnini, who wrote an elaborate work to defend this startling
-thesis. The correction of the calendar was investigated by
-Dulciati, and even hieroglyphics found an expounder in the
-encyclopedic Valeriaro, who wrote no less than fifty-eight books
-on that abstruse subject. Literature, indeed, was a universal
-hobby; it was the royal road to distinction in an age when the
-love of the well-turned period and the mellifluous sonnet was
-epidemic. The lady cultivators of polite letters were numerous,
-and not only accomplished proficients but formidable rivals. The
-sonnets of Veronica Gambara rank among the best; Vittoria
-Colonna, in lively description and genuine poetry, excelled all
-her contemporaries with the sole exception of the inimitable
-Ariosto; and Laura Battifera is represented as the rival of
-Sappho.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_704">{704}</a></span>
-<p>
-Notwithstanding this general enthusiasm for the amenities of
-literature, great attention was bestowed upon the more arid study
-of languages. Already the Latin muse had come to dwell again
-beneath the beautiful sky of Ausonia; and the humanists, fleeing
-from the savage fury of the triumphant Ottomans, sang, in the
-gardens of Florence and on the banks of the Tiber, the fall of
-Troy and the adventures of Ulysses. Leo X. was not only a Latin
-scholar, he was also a refined hellenist. Moreover, he knew what
-vast treasures of patristic lore are contained in the Greek
-fathers, and hence, as a lover of sacred and profane literature,
-he lavished his treasures on the revival of that beautiful
-tongue. A little colony, fresh from the Morea, was installed in a
-magnificent mansion on the Esquilian hill, and a Greek seminary
-was opened to impart to the Italians the true pronunciation and
-the very genius of the Homeric idiom. The famous Lascaris, at the
-invitation of Leo X., relinquished his position at the French
-court, in order to direct the studies of his young countrymen and
-superintend the editions of the Greek classics that were issued
-from the Roman press. The Hebrew was taught at Rome by
-Guidacerio, who published a grammar of that language and
-dedicated it to Leo X.; the Syriac and Chaldaic were taught at
-Bologna by Ambrozio, a regular canon of the Lateran, who at
-fifteen could converse in Greek and Latin with as much ease and
-fluency as any of his contemporaries, and who subsequently
-mastered eighteen languages. A useful and authentic lexicon was
-first given to the learned world by Varino. A new Latin version
-of the Bible from the Hebrew having been announced by Pagnini,
-Leo X. requested an interview with the author, and was so well
-pleased with his competency as well as with the elegance and
-accuracy of the work, that he defrayed all the expenses of
-transcription and publication. Erasmus, who corresponded with
-Leo, and, more than any one else, knew his great desire to
-promote biblical studies, inscribed to him his <i>New
-Testament</i> in Greek and Latin with corrections and
-annotations. Giustiniani commenced, in 1516, a new edition of the
-Bible in Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Arabic, and Chaldaic. If to this
-we add that the famous Cardinal Ximenes dedicated to Leo X. his
-herculean work, the Complutensian Polyglot, we shall have some
-idea of the efforts made in the beginning of the sixteenth
-century toward the promotion of scriptural and philological
-studies. [Footnote 178]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 178: It may here be remarked, in passing, that,
-    before the Reformation, the Bible was translated into not
-    only the classic and oriental languages, but also the
-    vernacular of every nation of Europe. For particulars, see
-    Cantu, <i>Histoire Universelle</i>, vol. xv. p. 12.]
-</p>
-<p>
-It has been said that a genuine love of literature invariably
-evinces its existence by an insatiable thirst for books, "those
-souls of ages past." This love Leo X. possessed to an eminent
-degree; he was a second Nicholas V. At his request and under his
-patronage, sterling bibliophiles set out from Rome to overrun the
-world in quest of manuscripts. The monasteries of Britain and
-Germany and the ruins of the Byzantine libraries were diligently
-searched; ample pecuniary remuneration was everywhere offered for
-unpublished works; and as kings and princes encouraged this hunt
-after books, it may easily be fancied that volumes teemed in from
-every quarter. The Vatican was made the recipient of these
-literary treasures; and, thanks to the zeal of the popes, it now
-possesses the most valuable collection of manuscripts in the
-world.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_705">{705}</a></span>
-<p>
-Leo X. was not only a man of letters, he was also well versed in
-antiquities. Prior to his elevation to the pontificate, his
-greatest delight was to shut himself up in his library or museum,
-and there pore over his hoarded treasures. This antiquarian taste
-he inherited from his illustrious ancestors, whose collections
-were famous throughout all Italy. One day, while he was yet a
-cardinal, a statue of Lucretia was exhumed; his joy was supreme,
-and in the heat of his enthusiasm, he strung his lyre and
-commemorated the happy event in beautiful iambics. On another
-occasion, a piece of sculpture, representing the ship of
-AEsculapius, was, owing to his exertions, discovered in the
-Tiber. This was considered by his omen-liking friends as an
-augury of his future dignity. The discovery of the famous group
-known as the Laocoön was an epoch in Rome. That evening, the
-bells were rung to announce the event; the poets, among whom was
-Sadoleti, lucubrated all night, preparing their hymns, sonnets,
-and canzoni, to welcome the reappearance of the masterpiece. Next
-morning, all Rome was on foot, and the public works were
-suspended while the antique statue, festooned with flowers and
-verdure, was carried processionally to the capitol, amidst the
-sound of vocal and instrumental harmony. Such was the joy of the
-Roman artists on the discovery of a relic of ancient art.
-</p>
-<p>
-The twin arts painting and sculpture shared largely in the
-munificence of the pontiff. Bramarte, Michael Angelo, Raphael,
-and Leonardo da Vinci, the princes of modern art, were the worthy
-emulators of Phidias and Apelles. In immortalizing their names
-and that of their patron, they immortalized their age and their
-country. At their call, genius again returned to earth, and
-exhibited, in the chiselled marble and on the glowing canvas,
-such animated representations as filled the eye with wonder and
-stirred the deep foundations of the heart. Bramarte planned and
-commenced St. Peter's, which, in the estimation of the sceptic
-Gibbon, is the most glorious structure that has ever been applied
-to religion; for
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-                           "Majesty,
-  Power, glory, strength, and beauty, all are aisled
-  In the eternal ark of worship undefiled."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Michael Angelo, whose very fragments have educated eminent
-artists, continuing the noble structure, placed the pride of
-Roman architecture in the clouds, and drew the design of the Last
-Judgment, which connoisseurs pronounce a miracle of genius.
-Raphael covered the Vatican with his inimitable frescoes and
-sketched his Transfiguration, which was hailed by the Roman
-people as the type of the beautiful, a paragon of art, and the
-masterpiece of painting. The profound Da Vinci painted the Last
-Supper and thus afforded Christian families a neat ornament for
-their refectories and a piece of artistic finish for their
-drawing-rooms. Sansovino's productions, according to the
-historian of the arts, were among the finest specimens of the
-plastic art, and Romano's were worthy of his "divine" master.
-</p>
-<p>
-Such was the flourishing state of the arts and the great impulse
-given to all branches of learning just before the memorable epoch
-when the fetters of the human intellect were, forsooth, burst
-asunder by the great Saxon hero, the unfrocked monk of
-Wittemberg, against whom Leo X. hurled the bolt of
-excommunication. If this grand impetus was not followed up, if
-the pen was forgotten for the sword, and the altars of Apollo
-were deserted for those of the homicide Mars; if the era of the
-reformation "was truly a barbarous era," [Footnote 179] it most
-certainly was not owing to incapacity on the part of the Roman
-pontiffs, since sectarians themselves proclaim them "in general
-superior to the age in which they lived," [Footnote 180] while
-historians of the depth of Neander are struck with admiration to
-find the popes "ever attentive to the moral and religious wants
-of their people;" [Footnote 181] but it must be attributed to the
-immediate effects of the so-called Reformation, that spirit of
-blind fanaticism which was equalled only by the wholesale
-brigandage and all-destroying vandalism of the sainted
-evangelicals.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 179: Schlegel, <i>Philosophy of History</i>.]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 180: Roscoe, <i>Life and Pontificate of Leo X</i>.]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 181: Neander, <i>General History of the Christian
-    Religion and Church</i>.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_706">{706}</a></span>
-<p>
-A kind dispensation of Providence it was, that saved Leo X. the
-sight of the harrowing scenes that Europe then presented. He had
-already occupied the throne of St. Peter eight years, eight
-months, and nineteen days, during all which time he had
-faithfully guarded the interests of the church against royal
-encroachments, and the liberty of his dominions against foreign
-aggression; he had presided over the last seven sessions of the
-oecumenical council of Lateran, and conferred on an English
-monarch the title of <i>Defensor fidei;</i> and now, in the
-forty-seventh year of his age, cruel death takes him from the
-affection of his subjects, the love of his cardinals, and the
-veneration of men of letters. Sad was the day when it was told
-that Leo X. was no more. Artists and humanists dropped a tear for
-their friend and benefactor; the sculptor and the painter
-commemorated their deceased Maecenas in the virgin marble and on
-the glowing canvas, while the historian wrote the annals of his
-reign and the poet embalmed his memory in immortal verse. Rome
-erected his monument, and posterity, admiring the virtues of the
-Christian, reverencing the eminent qualities of the pontiff, and
-idolizing the protector of letters and art, has called the age in
-which he lived the golden age of Leo the Tenth.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-      <h3>Translated From The Spanish.</h3>
-
-        <h2>Little Flowers Of Spain.</h2>
-
-          <h3>By Fernan Caballero.</h3>
-
-
-<p class="cite">
-  "Humble flowers of religious poetry, and derivations of popular
-  expressions and proverbs," is the title given by the authoress
-  to the article headed "Cosas (humildes) de España"
-  &mdash;<i>Humble Things of Spain</i>.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-If there exists an individual who has read all that we have
-written&mdash;and the case, though not probable, is nevertheless not
-impossible&mdash;he must have noticed that our zeal, our labor, and
-our specialty is to find out origins and causes, draw inferences
-and conclusions, and trace things to their why and wherefore. We
-are really apprehensive lest in this branch we may become too
-notable.
-</p>
-<p>
-Our system is the same that is followed nowadays by writers of
-history. Let it be understood that we do not meddle with such
-weighty subjects, nor venture into profound depths, and that our
-employment of the aforesaid modern system is solely in questions
-of the humble schools. Our information is all obtained from
-popular traditions, romances, and beliefs. The data which it is
-our delight to place in relief, all the world has handled as the
-Indians did gold before their conquerors gave it value; as future
-generations will give value to the things of which we treat when
-they lament their loss.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_707">{707}</a></span>
-<p>
-Our explorations in these rich mines have been rewarded. We have
-ascertained that the first tree that God planted was the white
-poplar; therefore the white poplar is the most ancient of
-trees&mdash;the vegetable Adam. We have learned that the serpent went
-straight, erect, and proud of his triumph in Paradise, until the
-flight into Egypt, when, encountering the Holy Family, he
-attempted to bite the child Jesus, and the indignant St. Joseph
-prevented him with these words, "Fall, proud one, and never rise
-again!" From that good day to this he has crawled. We have
-learned, moreover, that snakes and toads are permitted to exist
-solely for the purpose of absorbing the poisons of the earth. We
-have found out that the evergreen trees are endowed with their
-privileges of life and beauty in recompense for having given
-shelter and shade to the Mother and Child whenever they stopped
-to rest in their flight from the sword of Herod; that the
-rosemary enjoys its fragrance and always blossoms on Friday, the
-day of Our Lord's Passion, because the Blessed Virgin, when she
-washed the little garments of the babe, used to hang them to dry
-upon its branches; also, that for this very reason it has the
-gift of attracting peace and good-hap to the dwellings that are
-perfumed with it on Holy-night. That everybody has sympathy,
-affection, and even reverence for the swallows, because
-compassionately and with such sweet charity they pulled out the
-thorns that were piercing the temples of the divine Martyr. That
-the red-owl, which, grieved and appalled, witnessed the cruel
-crucifixion of the God-man, has done nothing ever since but
-repeat the melancholy cry "Cruz! Cruz!" That the rose of Jericho,
-which was white before, owes its purple hue to a drop of the
-wounded Saviour's blood that fell into its cup. That on Mount
-Calvary, and all along the way of agony, the gentle plants and
-fresh herbs wilted and died when our Lord passed by bearing his
-cross, and that these places were presently covered with briers.
-That the lightning loses its power to hurt in the whole
-circumference that is reached by the sound of praying. That at
-High Mass on Ascension-day, at the moment of the elevation, the
-leaves of the trees incline upon each other, forming crosses, in
-token of devotion and reverence. When newborn infants smile, in
-dreams or waking, we know that it is to angels, visible only to
-them. A murmur in the ears is the noise made by the falling of a
-leaf from the tree of life. When silence settles all at once upon
-several persons forming a company, it is not, as the wise ones
-say, because "the carriage is running upon sand," but because an
-angel has passed over them, and the air that is moved by his
-wings communicates to their souls the silence of respect, though
-their comprehension fails to divine the cause. Likewise, we have
-ascertained that the tarantula was a woman extravagantly fond of
-the dance, and so inconsiderate that when, on one occasion, she
-was dancing, and His Divine Majesty [Footnote 182] passed by, she
-did not stop, but continued her diversion with the most frightful
-irreverence. For this she was changed into a spider with the
-figure of a guitar delineated upon its back, and possessed of a
-venom that causes those who are bitten by it to dance and dance
-until, fainting and exhausted, they fall down in a swoon.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 182: The Blessed Sacrament.]
-</p>
-<p>
-In effect, we have learned many other things: some of them we
-have already written; the rest we mean to write; that is to say,
-"If the rope does not break, all will go on as usual."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_708">{708}</a></span>
-<p>
-But, among these things, there is one which we are going to
-communicate immediately, for fear lest we die of cholera, and it
-descend with us into the tomb; for it barely survives at present,
-and with it would perish its remembrance.
-</p>
-<p>
-In times when faith filled hearts to overflowing, offerings and
-<i>ex-votos</i> were brought by thousands to the house of God.
-Now that we are enlightened, we have other uses for our gold, our
-rare objects, and fine arts; for, as the poet says,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "En el sigh diez y nueve
-   Nadie á tener fé se atreve,
-   Y no huy que en milagros cred."
-   [Footnote 183]
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 183: In the nineteenth century, no one dares to
-    have faith and there is no one who believes in miracles.]
-</p>
-<p>
-It is well&mdash;or, better said, it is ill.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first ostrich eggs procured by the Spaniards, in their
-voyages to Africa, were regarded as marvels, and deposited,
-either as offerings or <i>ex-votos</i>, in the churches, where,
-bound and tied with gay ribbons, they hung before the altars and
-were looked upon as ornaments of great value. And even now,
-before modest altars in humble villages are sometimes seen these
-enormous eggs; presenting with their worn and faded decorations
-the appearance of porcelain melons. By whom were they brought?
-where were they found? who hung them here? are questions that
-assault the mind of the beholder, and send his thoughts and fancy
-into the vast field of conjectures impossible to verify, but all
-sweet, romantic, and holy.
-</p>
-<p>
-The imagination of the Spanish people is an <i>instinct</i>. They
-cannot see a material object without attaching to it an ideal.
-Out of the fervor of their own heart they made a symbol of this.
-</p>
-<p>
-The belief adapted to the ostrich egg, hung in front of the
-altar, is one that will be sagely qualified by sanctimonious
-devotees of literal truth as superstitious and fanatical. We
-offer it to the Protestant missionaries who favor us with their
-propaganda, as a killing weapon against the benighted and
-malignant papists.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is said that the mother-bird cannot hatch these eggs, which
-appear to be of marble, because it is impossible for her to cover
-them, and because there is not heat enough in her body to warm
-them through; but that she has in her look such fire, kindled by
-her great desire to free her offspring, that by keeping her eyes
-continuedly and without distraction fixed upon the eggs, the
-ardor and concentration of her love penetrates the hard shell and
-delivers her little ones. And they hung these eggs before the
-places where the holy sacrifice of the mass is offered, to teach
-us to keep our eyes fixed upon the altar with equal desire, equal
-love, and exclusive attention and devotion. O poets! if you would
-fulfil your mission, which is to move the heart, learn less in
-palaces, and more from the people who feel and believe.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among sayings and proverbs that have been accepted everywhere
-without having to show their parentage, is the well-known
-expression, <i>Ahi me las den todas:</i> May I get them all
-there.
-</p>
-<p>
-One of the creditors of a certain dishonest fellow, that owed all
-the world and paid nobody, laid his complaint before the judge,
-who sent an alguacil to suggest to the debtor the necessity of
-paying at once.
-</p>
-<p>
-For response to the intimation, the debtor gave the alguacil, who
-was a very dignified man, a slap on his face. The latter,
-returning to the tribunal, addressed the magistrate thus: "Sir,
-when I go to notify an individual on the part of your worship,
-whom do I represent?" "Me," answered the judge. "Well, sir,"
-proceeded the alguacil, touching his cheek, "to this cheek of
-your worship they have given a slap." "May I get them all there,"
-replied the judge.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_709">{709}</a></span>
-<p>
-Here is the etymology of another saying, <i>Quien no te conozea
-te compre:</i> Let some one buy you that don't know you. Three
-poor students came to a village where there was a fair. "What
-shall we do to amuse ourselves?" asked one as they were passing a
-garden in which an ass was drawing water from a well. "I have
-already hit upon a way," answered another of the three. "Put me
-into the machine, and you take the ass to the fair and sell him."
-As it was said, so it was done. When his companions had gone, the
-student that had remained in the place of the ass stood still.
-"Arre!" [Footnote 184] shouted the gardener, who was at work not
-far off.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 184: Geho!]
-</p>
-<p>
-The improvised ass neither started nor shook his bell, and the
-gardener mounted to the machine, in which, to his great
-consternation, he found his ass changed into a student. "What is
-this?" he cried. "My master," said the student, "some ill-natured
-witches transformed me into an ass, but I have fulfilled the term
-of my enchantment and returned to my original shape."
-</p>
-<p>
-The poor gardener was disconsolate, but what could be done? He
-unharnessed the student, and, bidding him go with God-speed, set
-out sorrowfully for the fair to buy another beast. The very first
-that presented itself was his own, which had been bought by a
-company of gipsies. The moment he cast his eyes upon it, he took
-to his heels, exclaiming, "Let some one buy you that don't know
-you."
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Yo te cono cí ciruelo</i>&mdash;I knew you when you were a
-plum-tree&mdash;is a common saying. The people of a certain village
-bought a plum-tree of a gardener, for the purpose of having it
-converted into an effigy of St. Peter. When the image was
-finished and set up in the church, the gardener went to see it,
-and, observing the somewhat lavish coloring and gilding of its
-drapery, exclaimed:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Gloriosisimo San Pedro,
-   Yo te cono cí ciruelo,
-   Y de tu fruta comi;
-   Los misagros que tu hagas
-   Que me me los cuelgan á mi!"
-
-  "Most glorious Saint Peter!
-   I knew you when you were a plum-tree,
-   and ate of your fruit;
-   the miracles you do,
-   let them hang upon me."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-<i>Ya saco raja</i>&mdash;He has got a share&mdash;is often said, and we
-trace it to Estremadura, where the live-oak groves are divided
-into rajas; <i>raja</i> being the name of an extension yielding
-acorns enough to feed a given number of hogs. When the
-<i>rajas</i> are public property, they are distributed at a
-trifling rent to the poorer householders, who are, as will be
-supposed, very anxious to have them. But to obtain one is
-difficult, for the <i>ayuntamientos</i>, or town councils,
-generally give them to their <i>protégés</i> and hangers-on; and,
-from this circumstance, "He has got a hog-pasture," has come to
-be said of any person that by skill, cunning, audacity, or good
-luck succeeds in obtaining an advantage difficult to get, or of
-which the getting depends upon some one else.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>El que tiene capa escapa</i>&mdash;He that wears a cloak
-escapes&mdash;dates from the giving way of the new bridge at Puerto
-Santa Maria, under the weight of the great crowd that had
-collected upon it. To prevent thefts and disturbances,
-Captain-General O'Kelly issued an order to the effect that no
-person wearing a cloak should be allowed to cross the bridge. In
-consequence of this order, no one wearing a cloak fell into the
-river.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_710">{710}</a></span>
-<p>
-It is usual to indicate that a person is poor by saying, <i>El
-esta á la cuarta pregunta</i>&mdash;He is at the fourth question. This
-assertion is derived from the interrogation of witnesses for the
-defence in suits when, among other circumstances, that of poverty
-is wished to be proved. This extreme being comprehended in the
-fourth question, as follows: "Does the witness know, of his own
-knowledge, that the party he represents is poor, and possesses
-neither landed property nor income; so that he has absolutely no
-means of support except the product of his own labor?"
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-    <h2>The Pearl And The Poison.</h2>
-
-        <h3>From The French.</h3>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  Chanced it, where along the strand
-      Softly foaming broke the sea,
-  Lay an oyster on the sand
-      'Mid her neighbors merrily:
-  And her shelly doors, ablaze
-  With the sapphire's thousand rays,
-  She had opened to the sigh
-  Of the zephyrs flitting by.
-  Fell into her bosom there
-      Just a single drop of rain&mdash;
-      Just a rain-drop dull and plain:
-  When, behold! a jewel rare&mdash;
-  A sudden pearl exceeding fair!
-
-  Chanced it on the heath hard by
-      That a viper, lurking dread,
-  Uttered then her hissing cry&mdash;
-      To the zephyr raised her head:
-  When upon her dart accurst
-  Fell a rain-drop like the first:
-  Just a drop of poison more
-  To recruit her venom's store.
-
-  With twofold nature are our hearts endued,
-  Nor open less to evil than to good:
-  Responding kindly to the tiller's care,
-  The soil becomes what skilful hands prepare.
-  Dear parents, take you heed. If yours the will
-      To guard your children's sacred innocence,
-      Be timely care and foresight the defence;
-          And drop by drop instil
-      Into their little spirits thoughts of good,
-          To be their daily food.
-      If you are wise, through years to come
-          A pearl of a child will make you blest:
-      If not, you'll cherish in your home
-          A very poison to your rest.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_711">{711}</a></span>
-<br>
-        <h2>Foreign Literary Notes.</h2>
-<p>
-The testimony of so distinguished an authority as M. E. Littré,
-of the French Institute, is now added to that of Digby, Maitland,
-Montalembert, and so many others, to show that the middle ages
-were not "barbarous." M. Littré, as is well known, is very far
-from being a Catholic; but, treating the subject with his great
-erudition from a purely historical point of view, he shows, in
-his <i>Etudes sur les Barbares et le Moyen Age</i>, that, after
-the frightful degeneration of the Roman world&mdash;a degeneration
-aggravated and precipitated by the violent immixtion of barbarous
-peoples&mdash;the period of the middle ages was an era of renovation
-in institutions, in letters, and in morals; a renovation, slow,
-it is true, but certain and continuous; a renovation entirely due
-to Catholicity, revivifying by powerful and fecund impulsion the
-antique foundation formed by pagan society, and augmenting it by
-all that Christianity possesses superior to paganism. On this
-beneficial and constantly civilizing influence of the church,
-which formed the moral unity of a world whose material unity had
-disappeared, re-educating people fallen into infancy, rescuing
-letters by her schools, clearing the forests by her monks,
-founding social and political institutions worthy of the name,
-and the like of which the Roman empire had never seen&mdash;for the
-reason that all its conceptions of man and of liberty were false,
-and it could never raise itself to the idea of a spiritual power
-that was independent of the lay power&mdash;on all these points, so
-worthy the attention of the historian, there are, particularly in
-the first two chapters, some admirable pages. M. Littré speaks
-with admiration of the spread of monachism in the west, and
-distinctly recognizes the many great blessings that followed in
-its train. He (p. 3) reproaches Gibbon with having ignored the
-importance of the religious fact of Christianity. And yet his
-"naturalism" has led him astray from the conclusion to which the
-invincible logic of his own presentation of facts must bring him.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-A valuable addition to biblical criticism is, unquestionably, the
-lately published <i>Saint Paul's Epistle to the Philippians</i>.
-A revised text, with introduction, notes, and dissertations. By
-J. B. Lightfoot, D.D., Hulsean Professor of Divinity, and Fellow
-of Trinity College, Cambridge. London, Macmillan. 8vo, 337 pp.
-This book forms the second volume of an exegetical work that is
-to embrace all the epistles of St. Paul. Galatians has already
-been published. The present volume is particularly valuable for
-its introduction of the results of the latest archeological and
-historical research. The commentaries on Seneca and the doctrines
-of the Stoics are interesting, as also the remarks on the
-<img class="txtimg" alt="[Greek text]" src="images/711.jpg">
-in verse 13 of first chapter.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-A distinguished priest of the Oratory, H. de Valroger, has
-recently published an able and learned disquisition on biblical
-chronology. He terminates it thus: "No more than the Bible has
-the church laid down a dogmatic system of precise dates strictly
-connected and confining the primitive history of the world and of
-man within narrow and inflexible limits. No more than the Bible
-does the church deprive astronomers, geologists, paleontologists,
-archaeologists, or chronologists of the liberty of ascertaining
-scientifically the period of time elapsed since the creation of
-the world and of man, or since the deluge, which terminated the
-first of the reign of humanity."
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-In the Foreign Literary Notes of our number for June, we noticed
-an important publication by the Abbé Lamy on the Council of
-Seleuciae, a translation from one of the numerous productions of
-early Syrian literature, so rich in works relative to the church,
-its history, its discipline, and its dogmas. And, in this
-connection, it may be proper here to note a typographical
-transposition seriously interfering with a correct reading of the
-notice in question, namely, the six paragraphs of the first
-column of p. 432 that precede "Concilium Seleuciae et
-Ctesiphonti," etc., should follow the second paragraph on the
-second column of the same page.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_712">{712}</a></span>
-<p>
-This work of the Abbé Lamy is one out of many recent publications
-showing the great attention lately given to the monuments of
-early Syrian literature by theologians of Europe. Especially in
-Germany is the activity great in this new field. It has long been
-known that a serious chronological break existed in this
-literature, covering a period of nearly three hundred years,
-stretching from the translation of the Scriptures to the
-classical period of Syrian patristic literature.
-</p>
-<p>
-Only of late years has this void been partially filled by the
-important work of Cureton, (W.,) entitled, <i>Ancient Syriac
-Documents relative to the earliest Establishment of Christianity
-in Edessa</i>. With a preface by W. Wright. London: Williams &
-Norgate. 1864. This work of Cureton was preceded by his
-<i>Spicilegium Syriacum</i>, containing remains of Bardesan,
-Meliton, Ambrose, and Mara bar Serapion. London: Francis &
-Rivington. 1855.
-</p>
-<p>
-In connection with these may be mentioned Cardinal Wiseman's
-<i>Horae Syriacae</i>, Rome, 1828; Pohlmann, <i>S. Ephraemi Syri
-Commentariorum in S. Scripturum;</i> Lamy, <i>Diss. de Syrorum
-fide et disciplina in re eucharistica; S. Ephraemi Syri Rabulae,
-Balaei aliorumque opera selecta</i>. Oxford, Clarendon. 1865.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-An interesting historical controversy has for some time been
-going on between M. Cretineau Joly, of Paris, and the Rev. Father
-Theiner, Prefect of the Archives of the Vatican, concerning the
-authenticity of the memoirs of Cardinal Consalvi, published by M.
-Cretineau Joly, in 1864. Father Theiner, in his History of the
-Concordat, throws serious doubts upon the genuineness of these
-memoirs. On the other hand, M. Joly, in his lately published
-<i>Bonaparte, the Concordat of 1801, and the Cardinal
-Consalvti</i>, defends his position, and declares that he
-translated with the most conscientious exactitude the memoirs in
-question, "such as they were confided to me at Rome, such as I
-now possess them in MSS. at Paris, such as any one is free to
-test by examination."
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-<i>Logicae, Metaphysicae, Ethicae Institutiones quas tradebat
-Franciscus Battaglinius, Sacerdos, Philosophiae Lector</i>.
-Bologna, typogr. Felsinea. 1869. 1 vol. in 8vo, 712 pp. This work
-is a collection of the lectures delivered at the Seminary of
-Bologna, by Professor Battaglini. The spirit of the learned
-professor's philosophy is, as he himself states, <i>secundum divi
-Thomae doctrinas</i>. No slight task, certainly, to bring the
-"Angelic Doctor" within the grasp of the young theological
-student.
-</p>
-<p>
-The work has attracted the attention of many of the French
-clergy, and is highly approved by them.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-There appears to be serious danger that the French people are in
-a way soon to know all about the Bible. Besides the numerous
-copies of the sacred Scriptures already in existence in France,
-the publisher Lethielleux now has in press the first volume of a
-new edition of the entire Bible, which will give the Latin text
-of the Vulgate, with the French translation, and a full body of
-commentaries&mdash;theological, moral, philological, and historical,
-edited so as to include the results of the best works in France,
-Italy, Germany, and elsewhere, with a special introduction for
-each book, by the Abbé Drach, D.D., and the Abbé Bayle, Professor
-of the Faculty of Aix.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-The mantle of Mai and of Mezzofanti has fallen upon Cardinal
-Pitra, recently appointed to the important position of librarian
-of the Vatican. The office could not be filled by one more
-erudite and worthy of it in every respect, and his holiness could
-hardly have made a better choice. Cardinal Pitra is well known as
-the author of several learned works in theological and canonical
-science. Like a true Benedictine, his life has been devoted to
-study and scientific
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_713">{713}</a></span>
-<p>
-A succession of articles lately given in the <i>Revue des Deux
-Mondes</i>, by M. d'Haussonville, [Footnote 185] has thrown fresh
-light on the long and interesting struggle between Pope Pius VII.
-and Napoleon; between moral and physical force, between the
-inspiration of heaven and the inspiration of the world. M.
-d'Haussonville, by the publication of numerous documents until
-now unpublished, and by the letters and despatches of Napoleon
-the First, lately given to the world by the present imperial
-government, has added a new interest to the sad story of the
-captivity of the holy father, and the negotiations at Savona.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 185: Lately elected a member of the French
-    Academy.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The dignity, firmness, and elevated piety of the noble pontiff
-stand out in more striking relief from their necessary comparison
-with the rude and merciless tyranny of his oppressor, and have
-wrung the strongest expression of admiration from sources the
-most unexpected. In an article entitled, "The Papacy and the
-French Empire," the <i>Edinburgh Review</i> (October, 1868) says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The meek resistance of Pius VII. to the overwhelming force
-  which had crushed every independent power on the continent of
-  Europe, was therefore a protest worthy of the sacred character
-  of the head of the Latin Church in favor of the dignity and
-  liberty of man; and, by the justice of Heaven, the victim
-  survived the conqueror, the feeble endured, the mighty one
-  perished."
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-Great activity prevails throughout Europe in the search for and
-publication of documents, long buried in libraries and private
-collections of MSS., which are calculated to throw light upon the
-history and workings of the so-called Reformation. And this
-activity is probably greatest in Switzerland, where every canton,
-separately or with an adjoining canton, has its historical
-society in active and industrious operation. German and French,
-Catholic and Protestant, vie with each other in their
-praiseworthy efforts to rescue from decay and ruin old
-parchments, chronicles, protocols, and letters, that are
-calculated to throw any light on the events of past centuries. In
-this direction works the Protestant Berner in the <i>Helvetia
-Sacra</i>, and the <i>Pius Verein</i> promises great results in a
-collection of which the first volume has lately appeared,
-entitled, <i>Archiv für die Schweizerische
-Reformnationsgeschichte. Herausgegeben auf Veranstaltung des
-Schweizerischen Piusvereins</i>. Erster Band. Solothurn. 8vo, 856
-pp. The central committee of this society consists of Count
-Scherer Beccard, of Lucerne, and Prebendary Fiala and Professor
-Barmwart, both of Solothurn. The volume announced contains
-chronicles, monographs, and extracts from the archives of
-Lucerne, the mere enumeration of which would be too much for our
-space.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-The old Benedictine abbey of La Cava, in Italy, has long been
-known to possess in its archives a mass of documents and MSS.
-said to contain treasures of diplomatic and archaeological
-erudition. They cover the period from Pepin le Bref to Charles V.
-Father Morcaldi, one of the most distinguished savants of Italy,
-has undertaken their classification and publication. They will
-fill, when printed, eight or ten folio volumes, and require from
-five to seven years for publication.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-A recent number of the <i>Literarischer Handweiser</i>, edited at
-Münster by Dr. Franz Hülskamp and Dr. Herrmann Rump, contains an
-article on Catholic journalism in the United States. Here is an
-extract:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Since the cessation of the well-known Quarterly, edited by Dr.
-  Brownson, American Catholics possess but one really first-class
-  periodical, namely, <i>The Catholic World</i>, founded some
-  four years since, and published at New York, in handsomely
-  printed monthly numbers. This monthly, founded by Father
-  Hecker, of the Congregation of the Paulists, a zealous convert,
-  distinguished for his effective dialectic and polemic ability,
-  is one of the most welcome manifestations in the field of North
-  American periodical literature. Already, during the short
-  period of its existence, it has gained numberless friends, and
-  bears favorable comparison with the best productions of the
-  European press. The influence and writings of Father Hecker and
-  his collaborators are sufficient warrant that <i>The Catholic
-  World</i> has an important future before it in the field of
-  defence and polemics, and that it will most probably be for
-  many the guide to the bosom of the church."
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_714">{714}</a></span>
-<p>
-Among new English books announced is <i>Mary, Queen of Scots, and
-her Accusers; embracing a Narrative of Events from the Death of
-James V., in 1552, until the close of the Conference at
-Westminster, in 1569</i>. By John Hosack, Barrister in Law. The
-work is to contain the "Book of Articles" produced against Queen
-Mary at Westminster, which, it is said, has never hitherto been
-printed, and will be published by Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh.
-</p>
-<p>
-If this work be in Mary's defence, it is not the first one&mdash;to
-their credit be it said&mdash;produced by the Protestants of Scotland.
-We confess to some surprise that some one of the many English
-Catholic writers, with their peculiar facilities for reference to
-authorities, have not taken up and exposed the scandalous malice
-of Mr. Froude's attack on the memory of the unfortunate queen.
-His desperate attempt to advocate the genuineness of the silver
-casket letters, bold and ingenious though it be, is nevertheless
-a failure, and its unfairness and sophistry should be exposed.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-         <h2>New Publications.</h2>
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Life Of Mother Margaret Mary Hallahan, O.S.D.,
-  Foundress of the English Congregation of St. Catherine of
-  Sienna, of the Third Order of St. Dominic.
-  By her religious children.
-  With a preface by the Right Rev. Dr. Ullathorne.
-  New York: The Catholic Publication House,
-  126 Nassau street. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-All who are interested in the extraordinary, not to say
-miraculous, revival of the Catholic faith in English-speaking
-countries, will hail with delight the appearance of this book. It
-is a simple and evidently a truthful narrative of the life of one
-of those providential personages who, in all great movements,
-stand out as beacon lights to mark their progress. Margaret Mary
-Hallahan was born in London in 1802, of Irish parents, who had
-fallen from a respectable position in life to honorable poverty.
-She was their only child, and became a complete orphan at the age
-of nine years. Her education had been provided for, as well as
-circumstances would permit, by her kind-hearted father, in the
-schools established in London by the Abbé Carron, a refugee
-priest of the French revolution. Slender, indeed, were the
-prospects of a poor Catholic orphan girl in the capital of a
-country so full of bigotry as was England in 1811. Having spent a
-short time in the orphan asylum at Somerstown, she was placed
-under the care of a Madame Caulier, whose harsh discipline was
-hardly compensated by occasional acts of kindness. In her
-twentieth year, she was introduced by this lady to the family of
-Doctor Morgan, once physician to George III. Being then an
-invalid, he was attended by Margaret during the last six months
-of his life; and after his death she became the bosom friend of
-his daughter, Mrs. Thompson, whom she served, rather as a sister
-than as a domestic, for twenty years. Five years of this time
-were spent in England and fifteen in Belgium. In the latter
-country she became a member of the Third Order of St. Dominic, on
-the feast of St. Catherine of Sienna, in the year 1835.
-</p>
-<p>
-On her return to England, in 1842, she took charge of the
-Catholic schools of Coventry, where Father Ullathorne, of the
-Benedictine order, was pastor. Her days were spent in the
-education of young children, and her evenings in the instruction,
-religious and secular, of the poor factory girls of the place.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_715">{715}</a></span>
-In a short time, there was a visible improvement in the Catholic
-community of Coventry; and Sister Margaret had the happiness of
-beholding a religious procession, the first of the kind seen in
-England since the change of religion, at the head of which was
-borne her own image of the Blessed Virgin, the only treasure she
-had carried with her from Belgium. A few pious companions, having
-united with Sister Margaret in the performance of good works, she
-and three others, by the advice of Father Ullathorne, and with
-the authorization of the general of the Dominican order, received
-the habit of the Third Order of St. Dominic, with a view to
-living in community, on the 11th of June, 1844. On the 8th of
-December, 1845, they made their religious profession. Soon after
-this, Father Ullathorne was appointed by the holy see vicar
-apostolic of the western district; and, having established his
-residence at Bristol, it was deemed advisable for the young
-community, of which he was the father and protector, to remove to
-Clifton, near his episcopal city. This was in 1848; and when, in
-1850, the Catholic hierarchy was reestablished in England, Bishop
-Ullathorne, now transferred to Birmingham, founded the second
-convent of the Dominican Sisters at Stow. This became the general
-novitiate of the order in England, and here were established by
-Mother Margaret her boarding and free schools, her orphanage, and
-hospital for incurables. In 1858, she went to Rome to obtain of
-the holy see the canonical erection of her community into a
-congregation governed by a provincial prioress. Her request was
-granted by a brief given in 1859, by which she was named
-provincial prioress, which office she retained until her death,
-in 1868. Here we may be allowed to quote the words of her friend,
-Bishop Ullathorne, in his preface to her life:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "And now behold this lonely and poor woman, made ripe in
-  spiritual wisdom and in human experience, returning, a stranger
-  and unknown, to the land of her birth. Yet God has already
-  prepared a way for her, and she begins a spiritual work which
-  slowly rises under her hands, from humble beginnings, into the
-  highest character, and surrounds itself with numerous
-  institutions of mercy and charity. Foundress of a congregation
-  of the ancient Dominican order, she trained a hundred religious
-  women, founded five convents, built three churches, established
-  a hospital for incurables, three orphanages, schools for all
-  classes, including a number for the poor; and, what is more,
-  left her own spirit in its full vigor to animate her children,
-  whose work is only in its commencement."
-</p>
-<p>
-The history of her life will amply repay perusal. It is a
-continual exemplification of her great maxim, <i>All for God</i>.
-The most prominent feature in her administration of the affairs
-of her order was, that she never allowed external employments,
-undertaken for the benefit of her neighbor, to encroach in the
-least upon the hours assigned for prayer and meditation. Her zeal
-in decorating altars, and in providing all things necessary for
-the decency of divine worship, knew no bounds.
-</p>
-<p>
-We heartily recommend the life of Mother Margaret Mary to all our
-readers.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Die Jenseitige Welt.<br>
-  Eine Schrift Über Fegefeuer,<br>
-  Hölle Und Himmel.<br>
-  Von P. Leo Keel, Capitular des<br>
-  Stiftes Maria Einsiedeln.<br>
-  Einsiedeln, New York,<br>
-  and Cincinnati: Benziger. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first two books of this work are out, and we anxiously expect
-the third, on Heaven, a topic on which it is very difficult to
-write anything worth reading, and on which very little has been
-written in our modern languages. German books are generally
-better than others, and a work which merits the praise of German
-critics is sure to be solid. The present work is highly esteemed
-in Germany, and we have examined the part which treats of
-purgatory sufficiently to convince us that the author has written
-something far superior in learning, and vigor of thought, to the
-ordinary treatises on religious doctrines which are to be met
-with. To those clergymen who are Germans, or who read the
-language, we can recommend this book as well worth its price. It
-is printed in the neatest and most attractive style.
-</p>
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_716">{716}</a></span>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Warwick;<br>
-  or, the Lost Nationalities of America: A Novel.<br>
-  By Mansfield Tracy Walworth.<br>
-  New York: Carleton. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This novel is a remarkable production, exhibiting vivid
-imagination, extensive and curious research, descriptive power of
-a high order, chivalrous sentiments, and a lofty moral ideal, in
-the author. Its principal scenes, events, and characters belong
-to an ideal world entirely beyond the possibilities of real and
-actual life, with an intermingling of some minor sketches drawn
-from nature which show the author's power to depict the real if
-he pleases to do so. It seems to us that the serious arguments
-which are interspersed through the book, and the curious
-speculations respecting the original inhabitants of America,
-which are not without at least historical and scientific
-plausibility, would be presented with far greater effect if they
-were detached from a plot which is too absorbing to leave the
-mind leisure to give them due attention. The moral effect
-intended to be produced by the story itself would be also greater
-if the characters were more real, the events more natural and
-probable, and the scenes drawn more from real life. The great
-praise, so seldom deserved, must be given to the author, that he
-inculcates high moral and religious principles in an eloquent and
-attractive manner, and will therefore undoubtedly exercise a
-refining and elevating influence over the mind of many a young
-reader who would reject graver lessons. Highly-wrought works of
-fiction have become a necessity to a large class of readers, and
-here is one which will give their imagination a wild ride on a
-racer over a safe road. The young and accomplished author of
-<i>Warwick</i>, will, we trust, follow up his literary career,
-and produce other and maturer fruits of his genius, which will
-add more renown to the illustrious name he bears.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-   The Life Of John Banim, the Irish novelist,
-   author of <i>Damon and Pythias</i>, etc., and one of the
-   writers of <i>Tales by the O'Hara Family</i>.<br>
-   With extracts from his correspondence, general and literary.<br>
-   By Patrick Joseph Murray.<br>
-   Also selections from his poems.<br>
-   New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-   The Ghost-hunter And His Family.
-   By the O'Hara Family.
-   New York: D. & J. Sadlier& Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-John Banim was born in the city of Kilkenny, on the 3d day of
-April, 1798. His parents were in humble life, but, through
-industry and economy, were enabled to bestow upon their son the
-inestimable advantage of a good literary education, while their
-precepts and example united to secure for him a thorough
-Christian training. His genius for novel writing manifested
-itself at an early age. While in his sixth year, his ready fancy
-gave birth to a story of no little merit.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "He was not sufficiently tall to write conveniently at a table,
-  even when seated, and having placed the paper upon his bedroom
-  floor, he lay down beside it and commenced the construction of
-  his plot. During three months he devoted nearly all his hours
-  of play to the completion of his task; and when at length he
-  had concluded, the writing was so execrable that he alone could
-  decipher it. In this dilemma he obtained the assistance of his
-  brother Michael, and of a school-fellow; they acted as
-  amanuenses, relieving each other when weary of writing from
-  John's dictation. When the tale was fully transcribed, it was
-  stitched in a blue cover, and John determined that it should be
-  printed. But here the important question of expense arose to
-  mind, and, after long deliberation, the youthful author thought
-  of resorting to a subscription publication. Accordingly the
-  manuscript was shown to several of his father's friends, and,
-  in the course of a week, the subscribers amounted to thirty, at
-  a payment of one shilling each. Disappointment was again the
-  lot of our little genius; for in all Kilkenny he could not
-  induce a printer to undertake the issuing of his story. This
-  was a heavy blow to his hopes; but honorable even as a child,
-  he no sooner found that he could not publish the tale than he
-  waited upon his subscribers for the purpose of restoring to
-  them their shillings.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_717">{717}</a></span>
-  All received him kindly and refused the money, telling him that
-  they were quite satisfied with reading the manuscript."
-</p>
-<p>
-In this little incident of his boyhood, the salient features of
-the character of John Banim, the man and the author, are easily
-discernible. His extreme facility of conception, his hurrying
-energy of execution, his confidence in the merits of his
-productions, his indomitable persistence in commanding public
-attention, his patience and courage under defeat and
-disappointment, and his scrupulous honesty of purpose, which
-controlled alike his writings and his business relations, are all
-contained and foreshadowed in the circumstances of this almost
-infantile enterprise. Maturer years darkened the shadows,
-deepened the lines, heightened the lights of Banim's character;
-but such as he was, when he ran home from his school-mates in
-their hours of play, "to see that 'Farrell the Robber' had not
-stolen his mother," such also was he, till, in his last hours, he
-begged of his brother,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "That I would stand by while his grave was digging, and that,
-  when his body was lowered to its last resting place, I should
-  be certain the side of his coffin was in close contact with
-  that of his beloved parent."
-</p>
-<p>
-Of the literary life and achievements of Banim, of his privations
-and discouragements, of his physical sufferings, and his
-premature decay and death, the pages of Mr. Murray's book contain
-a tolerably full description. It is to be regretted, however,
-that the task did not fall into the hands of Michael Banim, his
-brother and co-laborer in the O'Hara Tales. The work before us is
-too evidently the accomplishment of "an outsider"&mdash;of one who
-draws his information from letters, from books, from the accounts
-and descriptions of others, and not of one who "knew his man,"
-and delineates the results of his own personal sight and hearing.
-John Banim was a man whose biographer should have been his most
-intimate and dearest friend, whose choicest qualities those who
-knew him most thoroughly could alone adequately value, and whom a
-distant public can be taught fully to appreciate only by a writer
-who himself has learned the lesson through long and close
-association.
-</p>
-<p>
-Of the works of Banim, (one of the best of which we have also
-just received,) it is needless for us to make particular mention.
-They are worthy to be classed among the standard fictions of the
-century, whether for their rhetorical or dramatic power, and are
-almost wholly free from the loose sensationalism which disgraces
-the pages of so many modern tales. We have found them to
-inculcate virtue and industry, to do honor to purity and
-devotion, to abound in filial affection and religious fidelity to
-duty; and there is no half-heartedness in our wish that they, and
-such as they, may supplant, at least among Catholic readers, the
-noisome volumes which come swarming faster and faster both from
-the American and English press.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-
-<p class="cite">
-  Problematic Characters: A Novel.<br>
-  By Freidrich Spielhagen.<br>
-  New York: Leypoldt & Holt. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-It seems unnecessary, to say the least, to translate from the
-German pictures of life like those contained in this romance,
-since there are innumerable English and American novels, filled
-with the same sensuous details, and teeming with shameless
-descriptions of illicit love. In all the family life introduced
-to our notice in the course of this thick volume, the only
-married pairs that are described as living comfortably together
-are objects of ridicule, while men who make love to their
-neighbors' wives, and the married women who respond to these
-advances, are made to appear exceedingly interesting and lovely,
-and their wicked words and deeds justified on the ground, so
-popular in these days, <i>incompatibility</i> in the conjugal
-relations.
-</p>
-<p>
-As might be expected from such immoral teaching, utter infidelity
-follows in its wake.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_718">{718}</a></span>
-<p>
-Responsibility to God or man is ignored throughout these pages,
-though much is said about the great eternal laws of nature, which
-seems to mean, according to this author, unbelief in the God of
-revelation; since the only persons who profess to have any faith
-in the life beyond are proved arrant hypocrites, and excite only
-our disgust by their assumed piety.
-</p>
-<p>
-Such reading should be condemned without qualification, although
-the style may be, as in this volume, graceful and polished, the
-language vigorous, often piquant, the descriptions of natural
-beauties glowing with light and warmth, social questions
-discussed with equanimity and calmness&mdash;but the trail of the
-serpent is over them all. We unhesitatingly pronounce this a
-dangerous book&mdash;not <i>problematically</i>, only, but positively
-bad reading.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Walter Savage Landor. A Biography.
-  By John Forster.
-  8vo, pp. 693.
-  Boston: Fields, Osgood & Co.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Forster has led us to expect so much from him, by his
-excellent biography of Goldsmith and other works, that we are not
-only disappointed but a great deal surprised by the defects of
-the present bulky volume. Landor's life was a tempting theme to
-one who knew it so well as Mr. Forster. Stretching far beyond the
-ordinary limit of human longevity, crowded not perhaps with very
-stirring incidents, yet with figures of deep historical and
-literary interest, and curious for its extraordinary
-manifestations of a strong character, it was a subject of which
-an accomplished writer might have made one of the best
-biographies in the language. Mr. Forster has committed a grave
-fault, however, in being too diffuse, and, valuable as his book
-must be to the student of Landor's history and times, it
-certainly cannot be called very interesting. What with the
-prolixity of the narrative, and the prolonged summaries and
-analyses of Landor's writings, the reader is too often tempted to
-close the book from utter weariness. Yet there is a remarkable
-attraction in the life of that violent, wrongheaded, wonderful
-old man of genius, who left so many enthusiastic friends, though,
-it has been truly said, nobody could possibly live with him, and
-who has enriched English literature with poetry worthy of the
-classic ages of Greece, and prose among the purest and most
-eloquent in the language, though there is probably no other
-author of equal pretensions of whom the mass of readers are so
-completely ignorant. For this reason, Mr. Forster's biography,
-cumbrous as it is, deserves an extensive circulation, and it
-contains so much merit, that we hope he may be induced to bring
-it into better shape.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-
-<p class="cite">
-  Wandering Recollections Of A Somewhat Busy Life:<br>
-  An Autobiography.<br>
-  By John Neal.<br>
-  Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-If the Messrs. Roberts had desired to issue a book "<i>for the
-season</i>," they could hardly have selected one more appropriate
-than this pleasant autobiography of John Neal. Like the life of
-its author and subject, it is full of variety, "everything by
-starts, and nothing long," and runs as naturally from the piling
-up of bricks and mortar in the resurrection of Portland from the
-ashes of 1866, to the traditions and incidents of two centuries
-ago, as Mr. Neal himself seemed to slip from shop-keeping into
-authorship, and from peddling into law.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is a book that one can take up anywhere, and find somewhat of
-amusement and instruction; and can lay down anywhere without
-fearing to lose the train of thought or the thread of narrative.
-There is method enough in it to entitle it to be called an
-autobiography; there is also a complete justification of the
-title which its author has appropriated to it. It is the pleasant
-chat of an old man of seventy-three, over events and personages
-into contact with whom extensive travel and a long life have
-brought him; a "<i>potpourri</i>" of the memories and
-observations of two continents and of over three-score years. Its
-publishers have done for it in print and paper what the matter
-and the manner of the work deserved; and if it finds its way into
-the portmanteau of the summer tourists whether by mountain-side
-or sea-side, it will hardly fail to be read, and so put to good
-use otherwise perhaps wasted hours.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_719">{719}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  Sogarth Aroon; Or, The Irish Priest.<br>
-  A Lecture. By M. O'Connor, S.J.<br>
-  Baltimore: Murphy & Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-The author of this lecture was once the bishop of Pittsburg, a
-prelate hardly second to any member of the American hierarchy in
-learning and all the highest qualities of a bishop; and, as all
-know, he resigned his dignity to become a simple Father in the
-Society of Jesus, where, in spite of his broken health, he has
-ever since been zealously laboring for the salvation of souls.
-Father O'Connor has always been remarkable for his intense
-devotion to his native country and to the best interests of
-Irishmen. More than once, his learned and powerful pen and voice
-have been employed in their cause. In this lecture he has once
-again given a just and glowing tribute to the Irish priesthood.
-There are some, both here and in Ireland, who are fearing lest
-the tie which has bound the Irish people to their priests should
-be weakened by the efforts of demagogues seeking political
-influence, and by other causes of like nature. We trust this may
-never be the case; but it behooves all who love the Irish people
-truly to imitate Father O'Connor, and do everything in their
-power to strengthen this tie, and keep alive the spirit of
-Catholic faith in the bosoms of the children of the Martyr Church
-of Ireland. We recommend this lecture to general circulation both
-here and in Ireland, as an antidote to the poison which some
-traitors to their race and their religion are seeking to
-disseminate.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Young Christian's Library, containing the lives of more than
-  eighty eminent saints and servants of God.<br>
-  12 vols.<br>
-  Philadelphia: Henry McGrath. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This miniature library should be found in every Catholic
-household. While necessarily abbreviated, "The Lives" it contains
-are by no means mutilated condensations, and can be read, not
-alone with much spiritual benefit, but with real pleasure, in so
-admirable a manner has the editor performed his allotted task.
-Hence, although specially designed for youth, we have no
-hesitation in recommending it to persons advanced in years as an
-excellent substitute for the Rev. Alban Butler's more elaborate
-work, from which they are severally abridged. The series is very
-beautifully got up, and reflects great credit on the taste and
-liberality of the publisher.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-
-<p class="cite">
-  Appleton's Annual Cyclopedia For 1868.
-</p>
-<p>
-This well-known annual sustains its reputation as a valuable
-repertory of contemporaneous history. One great merit it has, is
-the careful manner in which authentic documents are reproduced
-<i>in extenso</i>. In regard to Catholic matters, it is, as
-usual, guardedly respectful, evidently intending to be impartial
-to every body. This is, of course, attempting the impossible, and
-it is easy to see which way the drift and current of the work do
-run. We say this in order that the younger and more inexperienced
-Catholic students may understand that works of this kind,
-proceeding from non-Catholic sources, are only to be used as
-lexicons and books of reference, but never to be trusted as
-guides or authorities for forming their opinions.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Habermeister.<br>
-  Translated from the German of H. Schmid.<br>
-  New York: Leypoldt & Holt.<br>
-  Price, $1.50.
-</p>
-<p>
-In this novel we have a vivid picture of German peasant life. The
-plot rests upon the assumption of unlawful authority, in the name
-of an ancient custom, the necessity of which has long since
-disappeared; and the catastrophe is brought about by the use made
-of it by infamous persons. The characters are well delineated.
-The rag-picker's ride and the grave scene will be found to
-exhibit to advantage the talents of an author whose greatest
-success lies in his description of men. The denouement is
-satisfactory, although brought about by slightly distorting the
-truth in regard to the convent reception-room. But the changes in
-the butcher's character were impossible, if we regard terror as
-the cause, for terror brings only degradation.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_720">{720}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Irish Brigade, And Its Campaigns:<br>
-  with some account of the Corcoran
-  Legion, and sketches of the principal officers.<br>
-  By Capt. D. P. Conyngham, A.D.C.<br>
-  Boston: Patrick Donahoe. Pp. 559. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-In this, the second edition of Captain Conyngham's well-known
-work, the publisher has left nothing to be desired, but has given
-us a book which, with its clear type, good paper, handsome and
-substantial binding, will compare not unfavorably with any recent
-issue of the press.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY will have ready, in a few days,
-a new edition of <i>St. Liguori's Way of Salvation</i>, and a new
-edition of the Douay Bible, 12mo, printed on fine paper. Also an
-8vo edition, on superfine paper, illustrated.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY is now printing a cheap edition
-of Challoner's <i>Catholic Christian Instructed</i>, 24mo, to be
-done up in strong paper covers, and sold at 20 cents per copy, or
-<i>ten dollars</i> for <i>one hundred copies</i>. This will
-enable clergymen and others to distribute this valuable book
-among non-Catholics. The Society will also print a cheap 12mo
-edition (large type) of the some book, which will be sold at a
-low price. At the same time, cheap editions will be issued of
-<i>The Poor Man's Catechism</i>, (two editions,) <i>Poor Man's
-Controversy</i>, Bossuet's <i>Exposition</i>. Gallitzin's
-<i>Defence of Catholic Principles</i>, and Gallitzin's <i>Letters
-on the Bible</i>. Also cheap editions, bound, of <i>The Following
-of Christ</i> are in press. These, with several other new
-editions of valuable books, will be printed during the fall. The
-new edition of Bishop Bayley's <i>History of the Church on New
-York Island</i> will be enriched by several new notes, and
-portraits on steel of Bishops Concannon, Connolly, Dubois, and
-Archbishop Hughes.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-<p>
-Messrs. John Murphy & Co., Baltimore, <br>
-will soon publish <i>The Life of the Very Rev.
-Frederick W. Faber, D.D.</i>
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Patrick Donahoe, Boston, <br>
-has in press a <i>Life of Christopher Columbus</i>,
-translated from the French.
-</p>
-<p>
-D. & J. Sadlier & Co.<br>
-are preparing for publication <i>Ten Working Designs for Catholic
-Churches</i>. The work is highly recommended by several
-archbishops and bishops.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<br>
-         <h3>Books Received.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-From Leypoldt & Holt, New York:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Stretton. A Novel.
-  By Henry Kingsley.
-  With illustrations. Pp. 250. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Lee & Shepard, Boston:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Credo; an American Woman in Europe.
-  Patty Gray's Journey from Boston to Baltimore.
-</p>
-<p>
-From Benziger Bros., New York and Cincinnati:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Cantarium Romanum.
-  Pars Prima.
-  Ordinariun Missae.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_721">{721}</a></span>
-<br>
-           <h1>The Catholic World.</h1>
-
-     <h3>Vol. IX., No. 54. September, 1869.</h3>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-	          <h2>Daybreak</h2>.
-
-             <h3>Chapter XV.
-<br><br>
-     "The Coming Of The Messenger."</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-All through that terrible day, the two staid by Mr. Granger's
-bedside, holding his hands, cooling his fevered face, and
-watching for a sign of consciousness that came not. At evening
-there was a struggle, short but sharp, and before they had
-breathed forth the breath they caught as he started up, the soul
-had broken loose, and a lifeless form sank back upon the pillow.
-</p>
-<p>
-Do they listen to us when they are gone? Could he, in the first
-surprise of sudden freedom, hear the cry, like that of a bereaved
-Lear, that sought to follow him, "Oh! stay a little!" or the
-weeping testimony of the other, "There stopped the noblest,
-kindest heart that ever beat"?
-</p>
-<p>
-But, listen though he might, from one he heard no word of
-mourning or appeal after that. Since he was happy, and had no
-longer any need of her, and since she had done all in her power
-to do for him, she could now remember herself. That his
-humiliating offer of an empty hand had been kindly meant, did not
-lessen her resentment, but rather increased it. However confident
-he had been that his interpretation of her perfectly frank
-conduct was the true one, he should never have allowed her to
-know it, she said. Her heart seemed hardened toward him, and all
-her friendship dead. "How I have wasted myself!" was the bitter
-comment with which she turned away from taking her last look at
-him.
-</p>
-<p>
-More than once, in the first days of their loss, that fiery anger
-of an insulted heart broke forth. On their way home, as she sat
-on the steamer-deck at night, slowly touching bead after bead of
-her rosary, not praying, but waiting for a prayerful feeling that
-might come, there came, instead, a recollection of the year
-before. It rose and painted itself, like a picture, between her
-and the wide, cool shade and sparkle of midnight sea and sky.
-There was the home parlor, the window where she sat that day
-after her retreat was over, so happy, half with heaven and half
-with earth, the curtain fanning her, the vines swinging in and
-out in the light breeze. She saw Mr. Granger come to her side and
-drop a rosary into her hands, saw the silver glitter of his
-pretty gift, and heard the words that accompanied it, "And
-indeed, it should have been of gold, had not Jupiter been so
-poor."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_722">{722}</a></span>
-<p>
-The words caught a new meaning as she recollected them.
-</p>
-<p>
-"If not gold, then nothing!" she exclaimed; and, leaning over the
-rail, flung his gift as far as she could fling it out over the
-water.
-</p>
-<p>
-The waning moonlight ran around the frosted chain and pearl
-beads, as if some spirit hand had swiftly told every Pater and
-Ave of them in expiation of that rash act. Then the waters caught
-them, and they slipped twinkling down through the green deeps.
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret left the deck, and went down to where Mr. Lewis walked
-to and fro, keeping his mournful watch. His face was pale, and
-his eyes heavy. He looked perfectly grief stricken.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What is the matter?" he asked. "Has any one spoken to you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No; but I have been thinking." She leaned on his arm, and looked
-down upon the casket at their feet. "That man thought that I
-wanted him to marry me. Is it only a wicked pride, I wonder, that
-rises up in revolt when I remember it? Should not there be a
-better name? I could not be angry then, because he was dying; and
-I forgot it till the next night, after all was over, when I went
-in to see him. I was full of grief then, and had some silly
-notion, just like me! of telling him, and that he would hear. The
-wind had blown the hair over his forehead, and just as I started
-to put it back, I recollected, and caught my hand away and left
-him. I had nothing to say to him then, nor since. What did he
-want to kill my friendship so for? His memory would have been
-sweet to me.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is poisoned." "Well," Mr. Lewis said, with a sort of despair,
-"women are queer beings, and you are ultra womanish. One day you
-will risk your life for a man, and the next you will look with
-scorn upon him in his coffin. A better name than pride, do you
-say? I call it the most infernal kind of pride. Where is your
-gratitude, girl, toward the man who never had any but a kind word
-and thought for you? He arranged everything for you, that first
-night, just as much as he did for Dora, and made me promise that
-you should never want for a friend while I live. You ought to
-humble yourself, Margaret, and beg his pardon."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you think so?" she asked faintly. "I hope that you are right.
-I would rather blame myself than him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Of course I think so!" he answered indignantly. "Did he ever
-give you one unkind look, even? Did he ever prefer any one else
-before you? Did he ever allow any one to speak against you in his
-presence? I never, before nor since, saw him take fire as he did
-once when some one criticised you to him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Did he? Did he?" exclaimed Margaret, kneeling by the casket, and
-laying her cheek to the cold wood. "Ah! that was indeed
-friendship!"
-</p>
-<p>
-In that softened mood she reached home.
-</p>
-<p>
-When death, in visiting a household, is unaccompanied by sordid
-cares, the lost one being necessary to our hearts alone; when the
-living have no remorse for the past and no terror for the future
-of their friend; when the silent face is peaceful; and when the
-earth that opens to receive it is warm and full of life, like the
-bosom of a mother where a sleeping child hides its face&mdash;then
-death is more beautiful than life.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_723">{723}</a></span>
-<p>
-Thus this celestial visitant came to the Granger household; and
-if an angel had alighted visibly in their midst, and folded his
-white wings to tarry there a day, the presence could not have
-been more sacred or more sweet. Every sign of gloom was banished.
-The light was no more shut out than it always was in summer; all
-the rooms were perfumed with flowers; and the master of the house
-was not left alone, but lay at the front end of the long parlor
-suite, in full sight of the family as they came and went.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among the many callers who came that day was the Rev. Dr.
-Kenneth, the old minister with whom we have seen Mr. Southard
-taking theological counsel. This gentleman listened with
-astonishment and indignation while Mrs. Lewis told him that Mr.
-Granger had died a Catholic, and would have a requiem mass the
-next morning.
-</p>
-<p>
-"He must have been unduly influenced, madam!" said the minister
-excitedly. "Mr. Granger would never have taken such a step of
-himself. It is impossible!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Somewhat embarrassed, Mrs. Lewis drew back, and disclosed Miss
-Hamilton sitting in the shadow behind her, and, at the first word
-of reply, gladly left the room, having no mind to stand between
-two such fires, though the doctor's opponent looked too pale and
-quiet to be very dangerous.
-</p>
-<p>
-"With God all things are possible, Dr. Kenneth," was what
-Margaret said. He regarded her sternly; yet after a moment
-softened at sight of the utter mournfulness of her face.
-</p>
-<p>
-"O child of many prayers!" he exclaimed, "whither have you
-wandered?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Please don't!" she said. "I can not bear anything; and we don't
-want any harsh words while he is here."
-</p>
-<p>
-The doctor hesitated, and turned to go; but she stopped him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"While I saw you standing out there and looking at him, I
-remembered how often you used to come to my grandfather's, and
-how you petted me when I was a little girl. One day I was trying
-to carry you the large Bible, and I fell with it. Grandfather
-scolded me; but you patted my head when you saw that I was on the
-point of crying, and said that the Highest and the Holiest fell,
-not once only, but thrice, under his burden. And you pulled my
-curls, and said, laughing, that if strength dwelt in length of
-locks, then I ought to be able to carry not only the Bible, but
-the house. What makes the difference now? Are you harder? or am I
-in less need of charity?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You have your friends," he said coldly, "those for whom you left
-us."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not so," she replied. "I have those in this house; but in the
-church I had only him out there. My church, here, at least, does
-not receive converts as yours does. I suppose it must be because
-they know that we are only coming home to our own Father's house,
-and they think it would be presumptuous in them to come to meet
-us, as if we needed to be welcomed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What! was no courtesy, no kindness shown you?" he asked
-incredulously.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Scarcely a decent civility," she replied. "But no matter about
-that. Only, I want you to remember it, and to send my old friends
-back to me. If they will not come, then their talk of religious
-freedom is hardly sincere; and if you do not tell them, then I
-shall think you unchristian. Indeed, doctor, when you have passed
-me ill the street, without any notice, I haven't thought that you
-were very good just then."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_724">{724}</a></span>
-<p>
-The doctor looked at her keenly. "I will be friends with you on
-one condition," he said.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And that?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Let Mr. Southard alone!" he said with emphasis.
-</p>
-<p>
-Before she could utter a protestation, he had left the room.
-</p>
-<p>
-The day crept past, and the night, and another day; and then
-there was nothing for them to do but take up their life, and try
-to make the best of it.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first event to break the monotony came in September, when
-Dora was baptized. All the family attended the ceremony, for the
-time putting aside whatever prejudices they might feel. Then they
-began to look eagerly for Mr. Southard's return.
-</p>
-<p>
-He might be expected on the first Sunday of October, he wrote
-most positively, but, for the rest, was very indefinite. He wrote
-so vaguely, indeed, that his congregation were rather displeased.
-His leave of absence had expired, yet he seemed to consider his
-coming home a furlough. Rather extraordinary, they thought it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard was not one of those pastors who live in a chronic
-deluge of worsted-work from their lady friends. On his first
-coming to the pulpit, there had been symptoms of such an
-inundation; but he had checked them with characteristic
-promptness, representing to the fair devotees the small need he
-had of four-score pairs of pantoufles, even should his life be
-prolonged as many years, and suggesting that those who had so
-much leisure might profitably employ it in visiting and sewing
-for the poor. But the repulse was given with such simplicity and
-candor, and so utterly unconscious did he appear that any motive
-could have prompted their labors save a profound conviction that
-their pastor was shoeless, that even the most inveterate
-needle-woman forgave him. He was not in the least sentimental, he
-was indeed strict, and often cold, though never harsh.
-</p>
-<p>
-Still, though he lacked many of the qualities of a modern popular
-minister, his people were much attached to him. They trusted him
-thoroughly, and they were proud of him. He had talent, culture,
-and a high character and reputation. He was not a sensational
-preacher; but his directness and earnestness were unique, and
-occasionally his hearers were electrified by some eloquent
-outburst, full of antique fire kindled at the shrines of the
-prophets. It also did not go against him that he was the
-handsomest man in the city, a bachelor, and rich enough in his
-own right to dispense with a salary.
-</p>
-<p>
-Great, therefore, was their delight when his return was
-positively announced, and they set about preparing for it with a
-good will.
-</p>
-<p>
-The church was renovated, a new Bible and a sofa were purchased,
-and a beautiful Catharine-wheel window, full of colored glass,
-was put in over the choir. Receptions were arranged, flowers
-bespoken, committees appointed, the barouche which was to take
-him home from the depot was chosen, and the two dignitaries who
-were to occupy it with him were, after due deliberation,
-selected. All this was done decently and in order. Mr. Southard's
-people were far from being of the vulgar, showy sort, and prided
-themselves on being able to accomplish a good deal without any
-fuss whatever. Even the newspaper chorus which proclaimed each
-progressive step of the minister's homeward journey, as
-Clytemnestra the coming of the sacred fire, sang in subdued
-language and unobtrusive type. At last, all that was wanting was
-the final announcement, in the Saturday evening papers, that the
-reverend gentleman had arrived.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_725">{725}</a></span>
-Indeed, the notice had been written, with all particulars, the
-evening before, and had almost got into print, when it was
-discovered that Mr. Southard had not arrived. The barouche had
-returned from the depot without him, the two dignified personages
-who went as escort suffering a temporary diminution of dignity
-and an access of ill-temper. It is rather mortifying to see
-people look disappointed that it is only you who have come, and
-to know that not only have you lost the glory which was to have
-been reflected on you from the principal actor in the scene, but
-that your own proper lustre is for the time obscured. +
-</p>
-<p>
-It was found, however, that a letter had been written by Mr.
-Southard, not a pleasing one, by any means, to his disappointed
-masters of ceremonies. He would be in his pulpit on Sunday
-morning, he informed them; and after Sunday would be happy and
-grateful to see any of his dear and long-tried friends who would
-be so kind as to call on him. But till that time he did not feel
-equal to the excitement of any formal reception. He had scarcely
-recovered his strength after a long illness, he was fatigued with
-travel, and also, he was returning to a house made desolate by
-the death of one of his oldest and dearest friends.
-</p>
-<p>
-"They are terribly wilted," Mr. Lewis said, as the family sat
-around the centre-table that evening. "You never saw anybody so
-grumpy as the deacons are. They are scandalized, moreover, in
-view of the only way in which he can come now. Of course, he will
-have to travel all night, and come into town Sunday morning.
-There's Sabbath-breaking for you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"One good thing," Mrs. Lewis said; "they have stopped ringing the
-door-bell. I do believe there have been a hundred people here
-to-day to ask if Mr. Southard had come."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Auntie," said Aurelia, with a look of mild horror, "you don't
-know what uncle said to the last gentleman who came. He told him
-that when the minister made his appearance, he would hang out a
-flag over the portico, and fire rockets from the front windows."
-</p>
-<p>
-The three ladies were sewing, and Dora sat beside Margaret with a
-catechism in her hand, learning the Acts.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Aunt Margaret," whispered the child, "what do you think God told
-me when I said, 'O my God! I firmly believe'? Says he,' Oh! what
-a lying little girl you are!'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why should he say that?" was the grave inquiry.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Because I told him that I believed all the sacred truths; and
-how can I believe when I don't know 'em? This is what I did; I
-said, 'Please don't listen to me now, O Lord! I'm not talking to
-you. I'm only learning my lesson.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come to bed now, my dear," said Margaret, "and we will talk
-about it."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I did not expect Mr. Southard to show so much feeling," Mrs.
-Lewis said, when the two had gone out. "He received the news of
-Mr. Granger's change of religion with such silent displeasure
-that I supposed he would discard even his memory. He shows
-courage, too, in still speaking of him as a friend; for some of
-his people will be displeased."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I'm sure, aunt," Aurelia replied rather hastily, "no one can say
-that Mr. Southard ever lacked the courage to utter his
-sentiments."
-</p>
-<p>
-"No," Mrs. Lewis said in a very moderate tone, but looked sharply
-into her niece's drooping face.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_726">{726}</a></span>
-<p>
-Aurelia had not looked up in speaking, and seemed to be engrossed
-in her work; but there was a glistening of tears through the
-thick lashes, and the delicate rose in her cheeks had grown
-crimson-hearted. She seldom spoke with spirit; but when she did,
-it always woke that rich bloom.
-</p>
-<p>
-The bell rang again, and in a few minutes the parlor-door opened,
-and the Rev. Doctor Kenneth came in.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The servant told me that Mr. Southard has not arrived," he said;
-"but as she did not absolutely forbid me, I came in to see the
-rest of you."
-</p>
-<p>
-They welcomed him cordially. The doctor had got in the way of
-dropping in occasionally, and they were always glad to see him.
-The venerable gentleman was something of a courtier, and knew how
-to make himself all things to all men.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have my colleague at last," he said, "and to-morrow I promise
-myself the pleasure of hearing Mr. Southard, if he comes."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret returned to the parlor, and was pleasantly saluted by
-the doctor who made room for her to sit beside him. She took the
-place willingly, being especially pleased with him just then;
-for, by his influence, her old friends were beginning to gather
-about her, coldly at first, it is true, but that would mend in
-time.
-</p>
-<p>
-They resumed the conversation which her coming had interrupted.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have never denied that Mr. Maurice Sinclair might possess some
-noble qualities," the doctor said, in his stateliest manner. "And
-I have never said nor thought that he could rightly be called a
-base man. But I have said, and I still think that he was a
-dangerous man; and moreover, that last letter of his, instead of
-softening my judgment, makes me condemn him all the more; for it
-shows unmistakably what light he sinned against."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But, doctor," interposed Aurelia's soft voice, "he seemed to be
-a Christian at last."
-</p>
-<p>
-"By no means, my dear," the doctor answered decidedly. "His
-unbelief was nobler, that is all. The Christian soul strains
-upward, and drops off the earthly; the pagan soul strains
-outward, and grasps what is greatest on earth. He was a pagan. I
-have always, during my whole ministry, had more fear of those who
-stand on the border-lands between good and evil, than of those
-who are clearly in the enemy's country. Do you want to take wine
-with a drunkard? Certainly not. The faithful can resist a glaring
-tempter; but let one of these gallant chieftains come up with his
-mouth full of fine sentiments, and presto,
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  'All the blue bonnets are over the border!'
-</p>
-<p>
-But what can we preachers do when the ladies decide to canonize a
-man? I'm afraid they are disposed to believe that a fine head
-must deserve a fine crown."
-</p>
-<p>
-"There's one exception, doctor," Mr. Lewis said, pointing to his
-wife.
-</p>
-<p>
-The lady appeared not to notice the allusion to herself, but
-spoke in a musing, silvery voice, her eyes fixed dreamily on
-space.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What a wise arrangement of Providence it is, that interesting
-masculine penitents should awaken the gushing philanthropy of
-ladies, gentlemen standing aloof; while interesting feminine
-penitents almost as invariably excite the pious charity of men,
-ladies, in their turn, holding off. In both cases, there are the
-feast and the skeleton quite correct. I recollect, doctor,
-hearing you preach, years ago, a sermon on the Magdalen. It was
-very edifying; but I was sorry that you found it necessary to
-mention her golden hair. Indeed, I have always thought that the
-old painters would have made a better point if they had
-represented her as a plain, middle-aged woman, with great haggard
-eyes, like pits of darkness through which the soul was
-struggling, only a spark, but kindled to a conflagration which
-should consume with holy fire that poor, desecrated clay of hers.
-That is the true Magdalen; not your light Correggio, who might be
-a <i>danseuse</i> reading a French novel after the ballet."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_727">{727}</a></span>
-<p>
-The lady had dropped her careless air, and was speaking almost
-vehemently. It seemed, indeed, that some personal experience lent
-a poignancy to her convictions on the subject.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am glad of the chance to express my opinions," she said, "and
-glad that you have made me angry enough to have courage to speak.
-I protest against this pernicious indulgence which latter-day
-Christians show to vice, persuading themselves that they are
-charitable.'Swear him, and let him go,' as the soldier said of
-the rattlesnake. When I see these sentimentalists seek out real
-penitence where it hides speechless and ashamed, then I will call
-them charitable, and not before. But no; real penitence is not
-interesting. It cannot attitudinize, it stammers, it has red and
-swollen eyes, it shrinks almost from being forgiven, it never
-holds its head up again."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But, madam," said the doctor, somewhat disconcerted, "all are
-liable to mistakes; and in being too strict with doubtful
-penitents, we may discourage the true ones."
-</p>
-<p>
-"They are easily distinguished," she said curtly. "Besides, you
-lose sight of another risk you run. You appear to take for
-granted that none are tempted save those who fall. How do you
-know how many may be holding on to their integrity by a mere
-thread, struggling desperately but silently, needing every help,
-in so precarious a condition that a breath, a word, may destroy
-them? Such people do not speak; you hear nothing of them but the
-crash of their fall. Or, if they fall not, you never know. To me,
-that conflict is more pathetic, more tragical, than all the
-paraded sighs and tears of those who have found that dishonesty
-doesn't pay. Those who do right simply and purely for God's sake
-are few and far between. Most people need the support of public
-opinion and the approbation of those whom they look up to. Let it
-be seen that, do what they may, if only they can excuse
-themselves prettily and plausibly, they will be easily forgiven,
-and set still higher than before, and what will be the result?
-You can see it in society to-day. Charity, so-called, has
-increased; has virtue increased?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"If good women would not make themselves so disagreeable, as they
-often do," Mr. Lewis said gruffly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Try to please them," his wife replied. "Praise them a little; be
-agreeable yourselves, and see if they don't improve in that
-respect. Meet a person with a glum face, and if that person is
-sincere and sensitive, you are not likely to get smiles in
-return."
-</p>
-<p>
-Aurelia leaned toward her aunt, put an arm around her, and
-whispered, "Dear auntie, you're an angel; but please don't say
-any more."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not like to hear men and women criticise each other," the
-doctor said calmly, introducing a switch into the track of the
-conversation. "They are neither of them fitted to think for and
-judge the other. They, in the moral universe, are like earth and
-sea in the physical. And as air is common to earth and sea, so
-spirit, and all higher influences, are common to man and woman
-alike."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_728">{728}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Yes," Miss Hamilton said, "and while the earth has gold, and
-silver, and iron, and gems, the sea has only pearls, and they are
-tears, woman's proper <i>parure</i>. And while the earth
-maintains its place, and is not moved, the sea goes moaning
-about, breaking itself on rocks, and climbing even to heaven,
-only that it may fall again upon the land."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Blessed showers!" said the doctor, who had watched her smilingly
-while she spoke. "Be sure, Margaret, sooner or later those for
-whose sakes you and your sisters have climbed to heaven with such
-toil and pain will see some heavenly likeness in you, and hail
-you as welcome messengers. Don't lose courage, dear. Don't join
-the bitter waves that break themselves against the rocks, or the
-sly, insidious waves that steal away the land and drag it down.
-But let your part be with those who visit us by the way of
-heaven. Wouldn't you rather we should look up when we want you,
-though it were seldom, than look down, though it were often?"
-</p>
-<p>
-She looked up, bright and blushing for a moment, like her old
-self, trembling with gladness, she knew not why. It seemed to be
-a prophecy of good tidings.
-</p>
-<p>
-Into the silence that followed a deep sigh broke. They all looked
-up, then rose, speechless, changed suddenly into a group of
-mourners. For Mr. Southard stood before them with that in his
-countenance which showed how much more plainly than even their
-living faces he saw the shadow of one who was gone for ever.
-</p>
-<p>
-Pallid with sickness, fatigue, and trouble, he came forward to
-receive their almost voiceless welcomes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"God knows," he said, "that if the choice had been with me, my
-place, rather than his, should have been made vacant."
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-           Chapter XVI.
-<br><br>
-         A Deserted Flock.
-<br>
-<p>
-Bostonians have been accused of putting too much Sabbath into
-their Sundays; but long may it be before the noisy waves of
-business or pleasure shall wash away that quiet island in the
-weary sea of days. There is a suggestion of peace, if not of
-sacredness, in the silence almost like that of the country, in
-the closed doors and empty streets; and when the bells
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Sprinkle with holy sounds the air, as the priest with the hyssop
-   Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them,"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-he must be insensible indeed who does not&mdash;at least,
-momentarily&mdash;remember that there is another world than this.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the morning after his return, Mr. Southard resumed his old
-Sunday habit of breakfasting in his own room, and none of the
-family saw him before service. He always went to his church
-early, and alone, and never spoke to any one on the way.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Margaret, you really ought to go with us this time," Mrs. Lewis
-said. "I think you might unbend for once."
-</p>
-<p>
-"To stoop from the presence of God to the presence of a creature
-is bending too far," was the reply. "Such bending breaks. I and
-my pet are going to see the heavens open, and the Lord descend;
-are we not, Dorothea, gift of God?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Lewis turned herself about before the cheval-glass to see
-the effect of a superb toilet that she had made in honor of the
-occasion. "Ah! well," she said. "You may be right. I have indeed
-a faithful heart, but a woefully skeptical head; shall we go
-now?"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_729">{729}</a></span>
-<p>
-The night had been very sharp for the season; but when they all
-went out together, the sun was shining warmly through the morning
-haze, the air was still, and the dripping, splendid branches of
-the October trees were hesitating between hoarfrost and dew, and
-glittering with both. People in holiday attire, and with holiday
-faces, went past, the bells clanged out, then paused, and left
-only a tremulous murmur in the air, the very spirit of sound. Far
-away, a chime rang an old-fashioned hymn, in that quaint, stiff
-way that chimes have.
-</p>
-<p>
-At a street-corner the party separated, and went their several
-ways.
-</p>
-<p>
-As the Lewises entered their own church, they involuntarily
-exchanged a smile. Nothing could be prettier than that interior.
-The side-lights were all shut out, and for the first time the new
-window was unveiled, and threw its rich light over the choir, and
-up the nave, kindling the flowers that profusely draped the
-pulpit and platform, and edging with crimson the garnet velvet
-cushions. The people in this church had usually easy elbow-room,
-but to-day they permitted themselves to be crowded a little by
-visitors. There were even chairs brought into the galleries; and
-when the hour for service arrived, there was a row of gentlemen
-standing behind the last pews. But there was no sound save the
-soft rustle of ladies' dresses, and now and then a hushed
-whisper. There was the most perfect decorum and composure, and a
-silence that was respectful if not reverential. No belligerent
-mutterings ever rose through the voice of prayer or praise within
-these walls; no belated worshipper ever went tramping up to the
-very front after service had begun; and moreover, neither in
-this, nor in any other Protestant church, did visitors come with
-opera-glasses and chattering tongues, to turn what was meant as a
-place of worship into a place of amusement.
-</p>
-<p>
-Quite late, Dr. Kenneth came up the aisle, and seated himself in
-the Lewis pew; and while every one looked at him, the door
-leading back from the platform to the vestry was opened, and
-almost before they were aware, Mr. Southard had entered and taken
-his place.
-</p>
-<p>
-There was a soft stir and rustle all through the church, and the
-choir sang an anthem&mdash;that beautiful one of Brasbury's:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "How beautiful is Zion
-     Upon the mountain's brow,
-   The coming of the messenger,
-     To cheer the plains below."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard sat with his eyes fixed on the cornice-wreath, and
-let his congregation stare at him, and they did not scruple to
-take advantage of the opportunity. The impression was not the one
-they had expected to receive. He was too pale and spiritual, and
-his expression was too much that of some lofty martyr fronting
-death unmoved, a St. Sebastian, pierced with arrows, his soul
-just pluming itself for flight through those lifted eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Moreover, not only were all their flowers invisible to him, but
-he never looked at their new window, though the light from one of
-its golden panes streamed full in his face as he sat. Where was
-the smiling glance that might, surely, have made one swift
-scrutiny of their familiar faces, unseen so long? Where was the
-prayer of thanksgiving that he had been brought safely back to
-his people, after such an absence, and through so many dangers?
-Where was the joyful hymn of praise?
-</p>
-<p>
-When Mr. Southard rose, he repeated only the Lord's prayer; and
-the first hymn he read was anything but joyful:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Nearer, my God, to thee,
-     Nearer to thee,
-   E'en though it be a cross
-     That raiseth me."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_730">{730}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Dear me! doctor," Mrs. Lewis could not help whispering, "I do
-wish that for to-day, at least, he could have hidden the cross
-under the crown."
-</p>
-<p>
-The text was unexpected: "<i>Little children, love one
-another.</i>"
-</p>
-<p>
-Not a single war-note, not a word of that Aceldama from which he
-had but just come, but an impassioned exhortation that, casting
-aside all differences, dissensions, and uncharitableness, they
-should love each other even as Christ had loved them.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard seldom displayed any strong feeling except
-indignation or a lofty fervor; but now he seemed deeply moved,
-and full of a yearning tenderness toward those whom he addressed.
-And they, after the first, forgot their disappointment, and were
-almost as much affected as he.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why do I choose for my text words which recall the sufferings of
-our divine Lord?" he asked. "And why do I select words of parting
-exhortation rather than words of greeting? Because the passion is
-not yet ended; because Christ is no more a king to-day than he
-was nineteen centuries ago; because even among those who call
-upon his name, his commands, his entreaties are disregarded.
-Still his sceptre is but a reed, his purple still covers the
-marks of the lash, his brow still bleeds under its crown. Lastly,
-because I am not a pastor returning joyfully to his flock, hoping
-for no more partings, but one who comes sorrowfully to say
-farewell, scarcely daring to hope for any other meeting with you.
-</p>
-<p>
-"A pastor? And who is he that leadeth the flocks of the Lord? He
-to whom the divine Shepherd hath given the charge, bidding him
-go. Brethren, he has not spoken to me, save in rebuking. Instead
-of green pastures, I have led you in the desert. For still
-waters, I have brought you to the banks of Marah. Who is he in
-whose hands the baptismal waters are cleansing, who can bind man
-and woman as husband and wife, who can consecrate the bread and
-wine, who can loosen its burden from the penitent soul? He who,
-looking up the line of his spiritual descent, sees the tongues of
-fire alighting upon his ancestors in the Lord. Bear with me, my
-friends! At the head of my line stands the traitor who sat at
-meat with Christ, and ate the bread he broke, and drank the wine
-he blessed, and then betrayed him."
-</p>
-<p>
-The congregation were too much startled and puzzled by this
-sudden turn to notice that Doctor Kenneth's head was bowed
-forward on the front of the pew, and that Aurelia Lewis was
-leaning with her face hidden on her aunt's shoulder.
-</p>
-<p>
-But Mr. Southard saw them, and grew yet paler. When he spoke
-again, it was with difficulty.
-</p>
-<p>
-"This is no place for me to stand and advocate doctrines denied
-by you. Yet surely it is no treason to the trust you reposed in
-me when you invited me to become your pastor, if I ask, if I
-entreat that you will examine fairly and prayerfully before you
-condemn my course.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I dare not trust myself to thank you for all your past
-friendship for me, to utter my wishes for your future good, or to
-tell you how my heart is torn by this parting. I have only
-strength to go.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you ask whither I am going? After years of mental torment
-unsuspected by you, and when at last my strength was deserting
-me, and the waters were going over my soul, where did I find
-refuge and safety? In that glorious old ship whose sails are full
-of the breath of the Spirit, who has faith for an anchor, the
-cross as her ensign, and St. Peter at the helm. Brethren, I am a
-Roman Catholic, thank God!"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_731">{731}</a></span>
-<p>
-Immediately the congregation were in confusion, and one gentleman
-stood up and called, "Stop, sir!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The light that had sprung to Mr. Southard's face at the last
-words dropped out again. He leaned over the pulpit, and commanded
-silence with a gesture at once imploring and imperative.
-</p>
-<p>
-"One word more!" he said. "Believe in my unaltered affection for
-you; and believe also that though my hands are not anointed to
-give benediction, I fervently pray that God may bless you now and
-for ever. Farewell!"
-</p>
-<p>
-He turned away from them, and walked slowly toward the
-vestry-door. Before he had closed it behind him, a silence fell,
-and he heard Doctor Kenneth's trembling voice exclaim, "Let us
-pray!" Glancing back, Mr. Southard saw the old minister standing
-with upraised hands in his deserted pulpit.
-</p>
-<p>
-Where he passed the rest of that day, the family did not know. It
-was early twilight when they saw him coming up the street toward
-the house. By that time they had recovered from their first
-excitement, all but Aurelia. She still kept her room.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard walked with a firm and dignified step, and his face
-was perfectly serene. He even smiled when he saw Margaret
-standing in the parlor window, watching for him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No servant shall open the door for him this time, at least," she
-thought, and hastened to open it herself.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Welcome home!" she said exultingly, holding out both hands to
-him. "You did that nobly! A thousand times, welcome!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard closed the door, then looked at her boldly, putting
-her hands back. "Do not mock my empty life with so slight a gift
-as mere kindness," he said. "If you give me your hand, give it to
-me to keep."
-</p>
-<p>
-She stood one instant wavering, then gave him her hand again.
-"Keep it," she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-Lingering behind him as he went to meet Mr. and Mrs. Lewis,
-Margaret flung her pledged hand upward as if she flung a gauge.
-"Louis Granger, you shall not look down and think that I am
-breaking my heart for you!"
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-            Chapter XVII.
-<br><br>
-	   In Exitu Israel.
-<br>
-<p>
-Some one tells of a wind so strong that he could turn and lean
-his back against it, as against a post. Mr. Southard found some
-such effect as this in the excitement caused by his change of
-religion. For there are times when a strong opposition is
-wonderfully sustaining. It fans the flame, and keeps the soul in
-a lively glow, without any expenditure of our own breath.
-</p>
-<p>
-Being thus saved the pains of maintaining his fervor, the new
-convert took up tranquilly his religious studies, viewing from
-the inside that church which heretofore he had seen only from the
-outside. The study was an ever fresh delight; and as, one after
-another, new beauties were revealed, and new harmonies unfolded
-themselves, the miracle seemed to be, not that he should see now,
-but that he should have been blind so long.
-</p>
-<p>
-No one knows, save those who have been born away from this home
-of the soul, the full delight of that succession of surprises and
-discoveries in the search made by him who comes late to his
-father's house. The first dawn or flash of faith, come as faith
-may, shows only the door, and a dim and long-stretching
-perspective. But once inside, with what wonder, what curiosity,
-what incredulity, even, we wander about examining the treasures
-of this new-found inheritance of ours.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_732">{732}</a></span>
-Surely, we say, here we shall be disappointed. Here there will be
-a shade on the picture. But, looking closely, we find instead a
-still more eminent beauty. Nor are these varied discoveries
-exhausted in a few months, nor in a few years, nor in many years.
-Even when the noon of life has been spent in the quest, and
-twilight comes, still there are
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-             "such suites to explore,
-  Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-But the most spiritual of us are not all spirit; and when, after
-a few weeks, the storm of denunciation against him subsided a
-little, weary of its own violence, Mr. Southard began to feel the
-vacuum left by his loss of occupation, and to depend more on the
-home life.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here the prospect was not without shadows. Mr. and Mrs. Lewis had
-behaved nobly, and, after the first shock, had stood by him
-through every trial. "Not that I am so fond of Catholicism," Mr.
-Lewis said. "But I like to see a man who has a mind of his own,
-and isn't afraid to speak it."
-</p>
-<p>
-The shadow in this case was Mr. Lewis's niece, who showed an
-unconquerable coldness toward her former minister. This was not
-to him a matter of vital consequence, certainly, though it
-troubled him more than he would have expected. She had always
-looked up to him with undoubting faith as her religious guide.
-Now he perceived with pain and mortification that he had not only
-destroyed her respect for his own authority, but had made her
-distrustful of all authority.
-</p>
-<p>
-He attempted to justify himself to her; but she stopped him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not occupy myself in criticising your conduct and opinions,
-Mr. Southard," she said; "and I would rather say nothing about
-it."
-</p>
-<p>
-For the first time, it struck him that Miss Lewis had a very
-stately manner.
-</p>
-<p>
-Neither was Miss Hamilton just what Mr. Southard wished his
-promised wife to be to him, though he could scarcely have told in
-what she was lacking. Her evident desire that for the present the
-engagement should be unsuspected, even by their own family, he
-did not find fault with, though it prevented all confidential
-intercourse between them; but he would have preferred that she
-had not been quite so positively friendly, and no more. It seemed
-a little odd, too, that he should never, even by accident, find
-her alone, though they had frequently met so in the old times.
-</p>
-<p>
-Weary, at length, of waiting on chance, he requested an
-interview, and stated his wishes. He would like to go to Europe
-as soon as possible, and stay there a year. He could not feel
-himself settled in the church, till he had been in Rome a
-Catholic, having once been there an unbeliever. Of course he
-would expect to take his wife with him. Why should they delay.
-Why not be married at Christmas, and start so as to reach Rome
-before Easter?
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret grew pale. "It is so soon," she said in a frightened
-way. "And you know I cannot leave Dora. You might go without me."
-Then, as his countenance fell, she added, trying to smile, "I
-love my freedom, and want to keep it as long as I can. But when I
-do take bonds on myself, I shall be very dutiful."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not think that you will lose any freedom which you need
-greatly desire to keep," he said gently, but with a shade of
-disapproval. "And as to Dora, Mrs. Lewis would take good care of
-her."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_733">{733}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Dora is a sacred charge to me, Mr. Southard," Margaret said
-hastily; "not only her person, but her faith. I cannot intrust
-her to any one else. Besides, she would break her heart if parted
-from me. No one else can comfort her when&mdash;when she needs
-comfort."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard considered awhile.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I approve of your being careful to do your duty by the child,"
-he said presently. "But, you know, some priest could have her
-religious education under his supervision while we are gone. I
-would not, on any account, urge you to violate a scruple of
-conscience. Possibly, however, if you should consult your
-confessor, he might decide that your duty to the child should
-bend to your duty to me."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret's face blushed up crimson, and her eyes emitted a spark.
-"The confessor whom I shall consult when I name my wedding-day,
-will be my own heart," she said, in anything but a humble tone of
-voice.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard looked at her searchingly. "Can it be," he asked,
-"that a lack of affection on your part is the cause of this
-reluctance?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I esteem you highly, Mr. Southard," she replied faintly,
-shrinking a little. "But I am not very reasonable, and you must
-have patience with me. Please don't say any more now. This is
-very sudden. I will think of it."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Very well," he replied. "Perhaps when you have thought, you may
-accede to my first proposal. It is not worth while to delay, you
-know, when one's mind is made up."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I must go now with Dora to make her first confession," Margaret
-said, anxious to change the subject. "Will you excuse me? I am
-afraid the storm may grow worse. The rain is falling gently now;
-but you know the old proverb:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  'When the wind comes before the rain,
-   You may hoist your topsails up again;
-   But when the rain comes before the winds.
-   You may reef when it begins.'"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-"And a true proverb it is in more ways than one," Mr. Lewis said,
-appearing at that moment. "When my wife begins by flying at me
-and tearing my hair out, and then goes to crying afterward, I
-hope for fair weather soon. But when she starts with a gentle
-drip of tears, I always look out for squalls before it is over.
-Remember that for your future guidance, Mr. Southard."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret escaped from the room, and in a few minutes was on her
-way to the church, with Dora half hidden under her cloak, and
-nestled close to her side. As she rode along, feeling, some way,
-as if they were flying from pursuit or from a prison, she
-experienced one of those tender touches of recollection with
-which the Spirit, ever following us, seeks to recall our wayward
-hearts. "What should I do if I had no church to go to?" was the
-thought that came; and as it came, the altar toward which she was
-approaching, glowed through the chill November rain like the fire
-in happy homes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Outside, in the corridor leading to that familiar chapel of St.
-Valentine, endeared by so many sacred and tender memories, they
-paused a moment and recollected themselves.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My dear little one, Christ Jesus the Lord is in there!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you truly think that he likes me?" whispered Dora
-apprehensively, glancing askance at the lambent little flame that
-burned inside.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! yes," was the confident answer. "He is very fond of you when
-you are good."
-</p>
-<p>
-The sweet face smiled again.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then I an't afraid of him, auntie. Come."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_734">{734}</a></span>
-<p>
-After an act of contrition on her own account, and a prayer for
-the child, Margaret led Dora to the confessional, placed her on
-her knees there, and, dropping the curtain behind her, retired to
-wait at a distance.
-</p>
-<p>
-Verifying the proverb, it was blowing quite violently when the
-two started for home again. Margaret went directly up to her
-chamber, having need to be alone. What was it striving within
-her, what memory, almost at the surface of her mind, yet unseen,
-like a flower in spring just ready to burst through the mould
-that feels but knows it not? On her table was a bunch of English
-violets that some one had left there for her. At the sight of
-them, her trouble sharpened to pain that had yet some touch of
-delight in it. The wind was full of voices, it caught the rain,
-and lashed the windows, it shook the doors, and called sighingly
-about the chimneys, and swung the vines against the panes. As she
-leaned there wondering and troubled, a faint, sweet perfume from
-the violets stole into her face. It was magical. She sank on her
-knees and drew the flowers to her bosom.
-</p>
-<p>
-"O my friend! how could I ever dream of forgetting you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-How it came back, that rainy day at the seaside, the terror of
-the tempest, the fire she had kindled, the watch she had kept,
-the presentiment of sorrow, then the muffled figure coming down
-the road, the rain, the wind, and his smile, all meeting her at
-the door, and the perfume of the violets he had brought her!
-</p>
-<p>
-Who knows not the power that perfumes have over the memory? The
-influence of sound is evanescent, that which the eyes have seen
-the imagination changes in time; but a perfume is the most
-subtile and indestructible of reminders. You have walked in the
-world's beaten ways many a year, till the country home of your
-childhood is a picture almost effaced from your mind. Its tones
-echo no more, its faces are faded, its scenes forgotten.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some sultry summer day, wandering from the city, but only half
-weaned from the thoughts of it, your listlessly straying feet
-crush the warm, wild herbage, and a thick perfume of sweet-fern
-rises about you. What does it mean? Thrilling to your
-finger-tips, you bend and inhale that strange yet familiar scent.
-Its touch is as potent as the touch of the rod of Moses.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "A score of years roll back their tide
-     Of mingled joy and pain;
-   Dry-shod I cross the torrent's bed,
-     And am a child again."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Old scenes come up: gray rocks start out, lichen-jewelled; there
-are billows of butter-cups, mayweed, and clover, over which your
-young fancies sailed moth-winged, and brought rich freights from
-every port; the long lines of pole and stone fences are built up
-again in a twinkling; the boiling spring leaps bubbling into the
-heart of the sunshine; in the woods the cold, bright waters run
-hurrying over the pebbles; there is the homestead, the smoke from
-the chimney, the open windows, some one standing in the door,
-some one calling you with a voice as real as your breath; there
-are faces with eyes that see you, every feature plain, there are
-hands stretched out.
-</p>
-<p>
-How it rises and tramples on your present, that past that hides
-but never dies! How your heart-strings strain with the vain
-longing to stay for ever in this bright, recovered country, and
-look no more on the desert and the land of bondage!
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Flow back, O years! into your channel,
-     Flow, and stop the way!
-   Let me forget how vain the fancies
-     Of that childish day."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_735">{735}</a></span>
-<p>
-If we did not know that every hope and sweetness in the past were
-but seeds for future blossom and fruit; if we did not know that
-childhood is but a bee's load of honey, but a babe's sip of milk,
-to those flowing streams in the promised land; if we did not
-believe that God's denial is brief, his bounty endless; that
-surely he sees and marks every pain; and that he holds the
-fulfilment of our utmost wish just at the verge of our utmost
-endurance&mdash;if we were not sure of this, could human nature bear
-the cross that sometimes is laid upon it? It could not!
-</p>
-<p>
-Miss Hamilton did not appear at the dinner-table that day; but in
-the evening Mr. Southard was summoned to her in the library. She
-met him with an April face full of a grieved kind of joy, or a
-joyful grief, crossed the room toward him when he came in, and
-held out her hands to him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Forgive me!" she said hurriedly. "But, Mr. Southard, I cannot
-marry you. I made a mistake. Don't be angry with me. I cannot
-help it. And I think, too, that you mistook also."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not understand this," he said, dropping her hand.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I should never have thought of marrying, if I had not been angry
-with him," she said. "That was wicked and foolish, and I have got
-over it now. We are reconciled. I shall never forget him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Am I to understand that your remembrance of Mr. Granger is a bar
-to your union with me?" asked Mr. Southard, regaining his
-composure.
-</p>
-<p>
-"An insurmountable bar!"
-</p>
-<p>
-He bowed gravely. "Then there is no more to be said. I wish you
-good-evening."
-</p>
-<p>
-She watched him go; and when the door had closed, broke into a
-soft laugh. "In exitu Israel;" she said. "I am free!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The door opened again, and Mr. Lewis came in. "You here?" he
-said. "I want to get the first volume of&mdash;But what's the matter
-with you? I just met Mr. Southard going into his room. Have you
-promised to marry him?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, I have promised not to," Margaret said, smiling.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis looked at her with a softening face, and eyes that grew
-dim.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I'm glad of it, Maggie," he said. My wife and Aurelia were sure
-that you and he would make a match; and I couldn't say anything
-against it. But I hated the thought of your forgetting
-<i>him</i>."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was no danger, indeed, of her forgetting him. It was
-impossible for her. She had not one of those facile hearts that
-rest here and there, on whatever offers, growing worn and
-threadbare at last, till there is nothing left to give. Hers was
-an imperious constancy which, having once chosen, did not know
-how to change, and perpetually renewed itself, like a fountain,
-as fresh to-day as it was a century ago. Such affection does not
-absolutely need the happiness of earth; for its root is in the
-soul, not in the flesh, and the time of its perfecting is
-hereafter.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-            Chapter XVIII.
-<br><br>
-              Daybreak.
-<br>
-<p>
-As there are plants that need crushing to bring out their
-perfume, so there are natures that become thoroughly amiable only
-through pain and humiliation. Mr. Southard's was one of these.
-Every blow that struck him made some breach in his puritanic
-severity, and revealed some hidden grace of mind or heart. He had
-possessed an intellectual humility, and had submitted himself
-with all the force of his reason.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_736">{736}</a></span>
-But such humility is like the weight of snow that in winter
-presses the head of the slender sapling to earth, whence it is
-ever ready to spring back again at the first fiery sun-touch. It
-savored too much of the arrogant self-accusation of those who, as
-Mr. Lewis said, think they are the sun because they have spots on
-them. Now, he seemed really humble, he distrusted himself, and he
-accepted kindness with a gratitude that touched the hearts of
-those who gave it.
-</p>
-<p>
-To Mrs. Lewis's surprise, he made a confident of her, and spoke
-quite freely of his disappointment.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not blame Margaret," he said. "It was ungenerous of me to
-take advantage of her first moment of enthusiastic sympathy for
-me to exact a promise from her. But the temptation was strong.
-Existence with her would never be mere vegetation. She always
-gets at the inside of life. However, since God has willed it
-otherwise for me, I shall try to act like a Christian and like a
-sensible man. All the difference it makes in my plans is that I
-shall go away a little sooner."
-</p>
-<p>
-They were sorry to have him go; for their esteem for him had
-insensibly grown into affection, and their affection constantly
-increased.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I declare, I had no idea that I should feel so bad about it,"
-Mr. Lewis said when the time came for good-byes. "Give me your
-shawl to take out. I am going to the depot with you."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret and Dora had taken leave of Mr. Southard, and were
-standing in one of the front windows, watching to see him off.
-Mrs. Lewis walked slowly out of the parlor with him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Where is Aurelia?" he asked, looking about. "I have not seen
-her."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! she told me to say good-by for her," answered Mrs. Lewis
-carelessly. He hesitated, and looked hurt. "I suppose she doesn't
-care to take the trouble to see me," he said. "Tell her I said
-good-by, and God bless her."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I will do nothing of the kind!" said the lady, with emphasis.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard stared at her in astonishment.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'Doesn't care to take the trouble!" she repeated indignantly.
-"It is rather you who haven't cared to treat her with common
-gratitude or civility. You have had eyes for only Miss Hamilton,
-who didn't care a fig for you; while Aurelia, the poor simpleton!
-who made a hero of you, and broke her heart because you were in
-disgrace with the world and disappointed in love&mdash;you hadn't a
-glance for. No; I won't say good-by to her. I will let her
-believe that you went without remembering her existence, as you
-came near doing. It will help her to forget you. There, take that
-with my blessing, and good-by. The carriage is waiting."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Where is she?" he exclaimed, his whole face changed, and become
-alive all at once. "I shall not stir from the house till I have
-seen her, if I have to wait a year."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What will Miss Hamilton think of your constancy?" asked Mrs.
-Lewis with a toss of the head.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Madam," said Mr. Southard, "for me there is but one woman in the
-world, and that is she who loved me without waiting to be asked.
-Will you be so good as to tell Aurelia that I wish to see her in
-the library?"
-</p>
-<p>
-He went toward the library, and Mrs. Lewis leisurely returned to
-the parlor, a curious little smile on her lips.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_737">{737}</a></span>
-<p>
-Aurelia Lewis was seated before the library fire, with her hands
-folded in her lap.
-</p>
-<p>
-As Mr. Southard paused an instant at sight of her, then came
-hastily in and shut the door after him, she rose and looked at
-him with an air of dignified composure. Her face was perfectly
-colorless.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is it true," he began at once, "that you have sympathized with
-me more than I knew? Tell me! A disappointment now would be too
-cruel."
-</p>
-<p>
-Aurelia's full bright eyes opened a little wider, and a faint
-color warmed her cheeks; but she seemed too much astonished or
-too indignant to speak. Yet after the first glance, she drooped a
-little, and leaned on the back of her chair, as if, like that
-fair Jewish queen, <i>for delicateness and overmuch tenderness,
-she were not able to bear up her own body</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-How pure and sweet she was! Silent as dew. How utterly womanly
-her untainted loveliness!
-</p>
-<p>
-"Esther!" exclaimed Mr. Southard.
-</p>
-<p>
-After ten minutes Mr. Lewis put his head out of the carriage
-door, and made a sign to his wife, who was benevolently
-contemplating him from the parlor. She raised the window.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Where is Mr. Southard?" he asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is saying good-by to Aurelia," was the reply; and the window
-went down again.
-</p>
-<p>
-Minutes passed, but no Mr. Southard appeared. It was the day
-before Christmas, and the air was too sharp to make a long
-tarrying out doors agreeable.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I've heard of eternal farewells, but I never before had the
-honor of assisting at one," muttered Mr. Lewis; and having waited
-as long as endurance seemed a virtue, he went into the house.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Where is Mr. Southard?" he asked, looking round the parlor.
-</p>
-<p>
-"In the library, saying good-by to Aurelia," replied his wife
-suavely.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lewis looked at Margaret.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will you tell me what she means? I don't believe her. She always
-puts on that truthful look when she tells a lie."
-</p>
-<p>
-Margaret laughed. "I think you may as well dismiss the carriage,"
-she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-In something less than half an hour Mr. Southard and Aurelia made
-their appearance. They were received with great cordiality.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I hope you liked your journey to Europe," said Mr. Lewis with
-immense politeness. "Is the pope in good health?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Southard was beyond the reach of mocking. "I have postponed
-my journey till this lady can be ready to accompany me," he said.
-"And I have convinced her that four weeks will be enough for her
-preparation."
-</p>
-<p>
-Aurelia went to lean on Margaret's shoulder. She was trembling,
-but her face showed full contentment. "I would rather be Esther
-than Vashti," she whispered.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I'm delighted enough to forgive you even a greater impertinence
-than that, if greater could be," was the whispered answer. "I am
-not Vashti, though you are Esther."
-</p>
-<p>
-The next day, after coming home from early mass, Margaret sat in
-her chamber toward the east, with Dora and her two friends, Agnes
-and Violet, leaning on her lap, and watching her face. She had
-been telling them the story of that miraculous birth, and,
-finishing, looked up into the morning sky, and forgot them;
-forgot the sky, too, presently, with all its vapory golden
-stretches, and glimpses of far-away blue, and saw instead her
-life past, present, and to come. Looking calmly, she forgave
-herself much, for had not God forgiven her? and hoped much, for
-there was no room for despair; and grew content, for all that she
-could desire was within her reach.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_738">{738}</a></span>
-<p>
-Beginning at the lowest, she had an assured home, kind friends,
-and a dear and sacred duty in the care of this child. So far, all
-was peace.
-</p>
-<p>
-One step higher then. Could the friend who still lived on in her
-heart forget her in that heaven to which her love had led him?
-And, weak and childish though she was, with her impatience, her
-scarcely broken pride, her obstinately clinging affection, could
-she be altogether unlovely to him? Some strong assurance answered
-no.
-</p>
-<p>
-Higher yet her thought took its stand. There was faith, that
-second sight by which the soul sets her steps aright as she
-climbs, never missing the way. There was an unfading hope, and a
-charity that embraced the world. There was God. And all were
-hers!
-</p>
-<p>
-As Margaret sat there, the three children leaned motionless,
-hushing themselves lest they should break that beautiful trance.
-It was no momentary glow of enthusiasm, no mere uprising of
-feeling; for mounting slowly, through pain, and doubt, and
-weakness, she had reached at last the heights of her soul, and
-saw a wide, bright daybreak over the horizon of a loftier life.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-           <h2>A Glimpse Of Ireland.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-I had long cherished the desire to visit Ireland, a country for
-many reasons so interesting to every American Catholic. The
-opportunity of making a brief tour in Europe during a summer
-vacation having unexpectedly presented itself, I determined,
-therefore, to leave the steamer at Queenstown and make the
-journey to London by way of Dublin. On the 29th of July, 1867,
-after a remarkably pleasant passage, we found ourselves, at an
-early hour of the morning, in sight of the famous Skellig
-rocks&mdash;called by sailors the Bull, Cow, and Calf&mdash;and thus gained
-the welcome advantage of sailing all day in sight of the Irish
-coast. The first impression one receives from the appearance of
-the country between Valentia and Cork is sad and desolate; in
-harmony with the tragic history of the suffering, oppressed race,
-whose home is seen for the first time, by the voyager from the
-New World, under one of its most barren and lonely aspects. The
-only interest which can attract the eye and the mind is that of a
-sort of wild and rugged grandeur, coupled with the historical
-associations which give a charm to the names of Bantry and
-Dingle. The lonely waters, where scarcely a sail was to be seen
-during the live-long day, told of the suppression of the
-industrial and commercial life of the Irish nation by the
-long-continued tyranny of that power which absorbs all its
-resources to feed its own greatness.
-</p>
-<p>
-The long, barren stretches, showing scarcely a sign of vegetable,
-animal, or human life, where for miles one could see only here
-and there a little shealing and a few sheep cropping the brown,
-scanty herbage, seemed to give the lie to the well-known, and, as
-I afterward saw, well deserved appellation of "the Emerald Isle."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_739">{739}</a></span>
-Expressions of surprise escaped from some of my
-fellow-passengers, agreeable and intelligent American gentlemen,
-who, like myself, were on their maiden trip to Europe; and from
-some others of the party who were children of Irish parents,
-looking for the first time on the land of their exiled ancestors.
-The coast is frequently steep and precipitous, suggesting to the
-memory the many tales of shipwreck in wild nights of tempest one
-has read in boyhood. The Martello towers stand at intervals along
-the horizon, like gigantic watchmen looking out seaward to spy
-the smuggler or the foreign invader, and in the distance the line
-of the Kerry Mountains completes the view of the wild, desolate
-landscape. The heights of Bantry are rendered for ever sacred and
-memorable by the martyrdom of the Franciscan fathers, Donald and
-Healy, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. They were revisiting the
-ruined monastery of Bantry, for the purpose of ministering to the
-spiritual wants of their poor, persecuted flock, when they were
-seized by the agents of the glorious reformation, tied back to
-back, and hurled headlong down the precipice into the ocean. What
-a wonder that the Irish people are so insensible to the value of
-a gospel brought to them with so much pains and trouble, so
-kindly presented to them, enforced by such lovely examples of
-Christian virtue, and supported so long, notwithstanding their
-obstinacy, at such great expense!
-</p>
-<p>
-Early in the morning, we stopped our engines off the Cove of
-Cork, a little steamer boarded us, the freight and baggage were
-speedily, though, in the case of rocking-chairs, not very safely,
-tumbled aboard of her decks, under the herculean direction of our
-fat boatswain. Three cheers went up from the City of Paris, which
-steamed off grandly for Liverpool, and we puffed in, not grandly
-but very pleasantly, toward Queenstown. The Cove of Cork is
-world-renowned for its beauty and excellence as a haven for
-ships, but desolate-looking from the fact that it is better
-supplied with fortresses, cannon, and ships of war than with the
-peaceful, plenty-bringing steamers and sailing-vessels of
-commerce. I once heard a little American boy utter the
-exclamation, as we were entering the port of Havana and espied
-the soldiers on duty, "How afraid they must be, guarding
-everything that way!" It appears to be the same case in Ireland.
-The English government is very much afraid of its Irish subjects,
-if we may measure its fears by the display of force which meets
-the eye everywhere. The only consolation which a sincere lover of
-the Irish people can find in looking upon this state of things
-is, that, since the endurance of this coercive tyranny is for the
-time a necessary evil, the force is so very irresistible as
-effectually to prevent the bloody horrors which would follow a
-general insurrection. A young English officer, whom I met at the
-hotel in Cork, expressed his regret that an open rebellion had
-not broken out, which, he said, would have been an affair of a
-month, and which of course would only have increased the miseries
-and riveted the chains of the Irish people. For myself, I could
-not help shuddering at the thought of the fearful tragedy which
-would have been enacted if the people had been goaded by
-demagogues to such an attempt, and blessing God that the efforts
-of these madmen had failed. It is plain enough that Ireland
-cannot be governed in this way much longer.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_740">{740}</a></span>
-There is but one hope and one method for the English crown to
-retain Ireland as a portion of the British empire; which is, to
-win the willing loyalty of the people by an ample redress of
-their grievances, and the inauguration of a policy which has in
-view the real good of the Irish people.
-</p>
-<p>
-Our little steamer landed us at about eight in the evening; the
-officers were very polite and obliging, and we were soon ashore
-on the sacred soil, with our luggage in the hands of a couple of
-lively gossoons, and our steps free to go anywhere we pleased.
-</p>
-<p>
-As soon as one steps ashore on the Irish soil, he feels that he
-is in the land of frolic and drollery. The irrepressible and
-indomitable spirit of the Celtic race rebounds under the strokes
-of adversity like an india-rubber ball under the blows of a bat.
-"The harder you do knock him down, the higher he do bounce." My
-fellow-voyagers who came ashore at Queenstown fell into a state
-of hilarity at once which was wonderful to behold, and which
-continued during their whole stay in Ireland. They held their
-sides and laughed uproariously, not, be it understood, with any
-feeling of contempt or ridicule&mdash;for they were gentlemen, and
-altogether free from snobbish prejudice or religious bigotry&mdash;but
-from pure, genial sympathy with the comedy which was going on in
-the crowd that pressed eagerly around the welcome passengers from
-America, contending for their luggage. Old women whose vivacity
-old age had only sharpened, and little boys who were so many
-Flibbertigibbets in fun and smartness, with huge cars drawn by
-diminutive donkeys, on which they piled pyramids of trunks, if
-they were lucky enough to get them; boys with barrows, and boys
-with only hands and shoulders&mdash;struggled and jibed and danced and
-scolded, and rushed upon every passenger as he emerged from the
-barrier, in a good humored and tumultuous manner that can only be
-appreciated by one who has seen it. We pushed off for the last
-train to Cork, followed by a dozen runners of the Queenstown
-hotels, vociferating the praises of their several houses,
-assuring us that the train had left five minutes before, and
-urging us most affectionately to go up the next morning after a
-good night's sleep, by the boat, that we might enjoy the scenery
-of the beautiful river Lee. This piece of advice was good, and I
-recommend every traveller to follow it. We turned a deaf ear to
-it, however, reached the train in time, and in half an hour were
-comfortably deposited in the well-known and most excellent
-Imperial Hotel of Cork.
-</p>
-<p>
-The rather singular English name of Cork is not, as one is apt to
-suppose, our common word designating a certain very light
-substance, and applied without any reason or propriety that
-anybody can see to a very substantial city and county. It is a
-corruption of the Irish word <i>Carroch</i>, signifying a valley,
-which has been Anglicized, like many other foreign words, by a
-most perverse and stupid English custom of changing them into
-English words of somewhat similar sound. The first beginning of
-the city was a monastery founded in the seventh century by St.
-Finnbar, whom I recognized as an old acquaintance, from the
-cathedral dedicated to his honor at Charleston, S. C., by the
-illustrious Bishop England, who was a native of Cork. The old
-cathedral of St. Finnbar, which was rebuilt in 1735, has been
-demolished, to make way for a new one, which I most devoutly hope
-may never be built on the sacred spot consecrated by the ancient
-Irish monk until this shall revert to its rightful possessors.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_741">{741}</a></span>
-Another holy site, that of Gil Abbey, which is extremely
-picturesque and beautiful, is occupied by the Queen's College.
-The Sisters of Mercy are fortunate enough to possess another
-pleasant spot, rising to a wooded hill, which was also the seat
-of an ancient monastery, and where is now situated their very
-neat and commodious convent. There are three very good Catholic
-churches in the city&mdash;St. Patrick's, St. Mary's, and Holy
-Trinity; the latter founded by F. Matthew, and containing a
-stained glass window as a memorial of O'Connell. The Mardyke, an
-avenue shaded with elms for the distance of a mile, is a pleasant
-walk, and I passed an hour there in company with a small party of
-friends, from New York, in a most amusing and agreeable manner,
-surrounded by a group of children with whom we soon established a
-most intimate friendship by means of plums. The Irish children
-are remarkable for their beauty, their blooming health, and for a
-mixture of fun and innocence, of brightness and simplicity, of
-boldness and modesty, indicating a state as near to that of
-unfallen childhood as I can imagine. The pranks of the young
-Corkonians afford a source of unfailing amusement to the stranger
-within their gates; but I was most amused by the boys with
-donkeys, who were to be seen riding in state to school in the
-morning, and, in the afternoon, all about the environs scattered
-in groups on the grass, ready to exchange a biting sarcasm with
-every passing coachman, while their dear little friends, the
-donkeys, fed quietly near by. It would be useless, however, to
-attempt to describe all that is droll and comic in the population
-of Cork, for it seems as if it were the business of their lives
-to be as funny as they can, for their own delight and that of the
-beholder.
-</p>
-<p>
-Cork is a fine, well-built town, of 90,000 inhabitants, the third
-in importance in Ireland. The environs are extremely beautiful. I
-was there at midsummer; the weather was perfect, and I could see
-to the best advantage the tilth and verdure which make the
-Emerald Isle so famous. Certainly, they have not been
-exaggerated, and no one can wonder at the praise which the
-Irishman bestows upon his soil, or the intense love which he
-cherishes for it. I only wonder that those who were born and bred
-there can ever be contented elsewhere; and surely nothing but the
-most unendurable poverty and want would ever drive such numbers
-of them into exile. Perhaps the most picturesque objects which
-meet the eye, in the country, are the white farm-houses with
-thatched roofs, standing in their neat little flower-gardens,
-their walls covered with honeysuckle or other creeping vines. The
-only thought which mars the pleasure of looking on the rich
-meadows, the waving fields, the herds of superb cattle, and
-flocks of fat sheep, is, that the outward show of beauty and
-prosperity is obtained by the sacrifice of the poor people, and
-enjoyed by a small number only. If you drive out, your carriage
-is followed by a troop of ragged, fleet-footed young beggars; and
-if you chance to pass a factory when the hour for stopping work
-has come, you may see a long procession of young women,
-bareheaded, barefooted, ragged, and emaciated, who are glad to
-work for a shilling a day.
-</p>
-<p>
-The most interesting place to visit in the neighborhood of Cork
-is Blarney Castle. I am ashamed to say that I was afraid to go on
-a jaunting-car, although at Dublin I made the experiment with
-great success and pleasure. It seemed to me, when I looked at the
-jaunting-car for the first time, that it would shake one off as
-soon as it turned a corner.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_742">{742}</a></span>
-We accordingly drove out to Blarney in an open carriage, going by
-the road to Kanturk, and returning by Sunday-Well road. Aside
-from the merely jocose associations of the Blarney-stone, the
-old, ivy-clad tower is an extremely interesting and picturesque
-object, and the grounds of the demesne, so celebrated in Irish
-lyrics, are charming. The cromlech and pillar stones, on which
-are inscriptions in the ancient Ogham characters, carry back the
-imagination to an antiquity almost without limits, and suggest
-the thought that perhaps as long ago as the time of King David,
-or even the Exodus, Druids may have performed their sacred rites
-in these still groves. Our guide was a poor little sickly
-humpbacked boy of sixteen rejoicing in the <i>sobriquet</i> of
-Lord John Russell, and possessing very sharp wits and
-inexhaustible good-humor. Every one about the castle seemed to
-take especial delight in a standing joke at his expense, that he
-was an old man with a heavy family. The poor fellow seemed to
-enjoy our company very much, and expressed the intention of
-emigrating to America. The only reason he could give was that the
-weather was too warm in summer at Blarney. At the castle gate his
-jurisdiction terminated, and we were handed over to another
-amusing original, the lame old gardener, who has many a story to
-tell of Walter Scott, and Tom Moore, and Father Prout. As for the
-Blarney-stone, I will not say how many of our party kissed it. In
-Lord John Russell's opinion, there was no need of our doing so;
-he was sure we had one of our own in America which we had all
-kissed frequently before leaving home. Whoever has spent an
-afternoon at Blarney, in genial company, will admit that it was
-one of the pleasantest days of his life, if his soul is not too
-full of steam and railroads to be capable of simple and natural
-enjoyments.
-</p>
-<p>
-The journey by rail from Cork to Dublin is a most tantalizing
-one. Flying at full speed through several counties, one catches
-glimpses at every moment of places and scenes of historic
-interest and natural or artificial beauty, which he longs to
-visit and inspect at leisure. The distance is one hundred and
-sixty-five miles; the railway is an admirable one; everything
-about the way stations is neat and attractive, and the route
-passes in a direct line through the counties of Cork, Limerick,
-Tipperary, King's, Queen's, and Kildare. Among the objects of
-interest which are passed are the abbeys of Mourne, Bridgetown,
-Kilmallock, Knocklong, Holy Cross, Thurles, Templemore, Moore
-Abbey, Old Connell, Kildare Cathedral, with St. Bridget's chapel;
-the castles of Barrett, Carrignacenny, Kilcolman, which the poet
-Spenser received as his share in the spoliation; Charleville; the
-Rock of Dunamase, with the ruins of Strongbow's Castle; the Rock
-of Cashel; the Hill of Allen, where Fin McCoul lived; several
-round towers; the famous bog of Allen; the Curragh of Kildare;
-and quantities of others&mdash;which keep one perpetually, and to a
-great extent vainly, looking out of window, first on one side,
-then on the other, while you are hurried over a country every
-step of which is rich in history, poetry, and legend, and should
-be slowly traversed on foot and at leisure. Three of my agreeable
-companions of the voyage were with me in the same carriage; a
-very pleasing gentleman, with his son, a bright youth of sixteen,
-joined us an hour or two before reaching Dublin, and they were as
-curious about America, especially Indians, and our sea-voyage, as
-we were about the antiquities and curiosities of Ireland.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_743">{743}</a></span>
-Our trip was therefore wanting in nothing to make it lively and
-agreeable, and we were finally deposited at the Gresham Hotel,
-Sackville street, Dublin, in high good humor, and quite ready for
-a good dinner.
-</p>
-<p>
-As I had only that evening and the following day to remain in
-Dublin, I was obliged to content myself with a superficial view
-of the city, and a visit to a few places of particular interest.
-In its general features, Dublin is at least equal to our finest
-American towns of the same class, although more quiet, and
-showing signs of stagnation in commercial prosperity. Its
-agreeable climate makes it a delightful place of residence at all
-seasons of the year, especially in the summer.
-</p>
-<p>
-My first visit was made to the scene of the life and labors of
-the saintly Catherine McAuley, foundress of the Sisters of Mercy,
-the convent in Baggott street, where also repose her mortal
-remains&mdash;a lovely spot for the cradle of a religious order, and
-suggestive of the time, I hope not far distant, when Ireland
-shall once again be full of these sacred homes of the monastic
-life, as she was before the spoliation of her holy places by the
-ruthless minions of Henry and Elizabeth. I visited also Clontarf,
-the scene of Brian Boru's decisive victory over the Danes, and
-death, and went to see what is said to have been his harp, and is
-undoubtedly a relic of very ancient times, at the museum of
-Trinity College. The college is a most attractive place, and
-delightfully situated, on ground of course originally stolen from
-the Catholic Church, and endowed out of the spoils of
-monasteries. Quite in keeping with its origin is the fact that
-its library contains a large number of valuable manuscript
-records, originally stolen from the papal archives. The learned
-body which rules within its classic halls has also made itself
-remarkable by sustaining a claim, perhaps the most absurd ever
-advanced by persons professing to be scholars, namely, that the
-Protestant Church of Ireland is the lineal and legitimate
-successor, in a direct, unbroken line, of the ancient church of
-Saint Patrick. This is adding insult to injury. As if it were not
-enough to rob the Irish people of their property, to persecute,
-torture, exile, and massacre them by millions, on account of
-their fidelity to their hereditary faith, their title to the very
-name of Catholic must be denied to them, and arrogated for the
-intruders who have forced themselves into their heritage by the
-point of the bayonet and the violation of treaties. Two terrible
-antagonists have arisen, however, out of their own camp to smite
-these pretenders; Dr. Maziere Brady, an Irish Protestant
-clergyman, and Froude, the English historian. The former
-gentleman, in several learned and unanswerable works, has
-demonstrated the regular, unbroken succession of the present
-Catholic hierarchy and people of Ireland, from the bishops and
-faithful who preceded the reign of Henry VIII., and has shown
-that the Irish Protestant Church is nothing but an English
-colony. The learned and accomplished Dr. Moran, also, whom I had
-the pleasure of meeting, has written with great ability and
-research upon the same topics.
-</p>
-<p>
-Stephen's Green, which is near by Trinity College, witnessed the
-burning of the heroic martyr Archbishop O'Hurley, tortured and
-put to death, at the instigation of the infamous Loftus,
-archbishop of Dublin. A few days later, I saw in the private
-chapel of Archbishop Manning, at London, a cloth stained with the
-blood of Archbishop Plunkett, another illustrious martyr, who was
-publicly executed by the English government on false charges.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_744">{744}</a></span>
-I venerate the relics of the older martyrs, and the places made
-sacred by the hallowed memories of other countries and ages far
-remote; but nothing stirs my blood like the holy mementoes of the
-men who suffered in Ireland and England, for the faith, under the
-tyranny of the apostate sovereigns and bishops of Great Britain.
-These men are our fathers in the faith, the heroes who fought our
-battles, from whom we have received the precious heritage we
-enjoy in comparative peace. Their memory ought to be kept alive
-and honored among us, in every possible way, as a powerful
-incitement to imitate their example, and a means of endearing to
-our people that religion which has been handed down, bathed in
-the blood of so many noble Christians.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Patrick's Cathedral is the most interesting and venerable
-monument of antiquity in Dublin. My fellow-travellers were
-astonished at seeing a Protestant St. Patrick's, with a statue of
-the great apostle over the principal door. Probably most
-Americans who have not made themselves specially familiar with
-Irish history fancy that most of the fine churches of Dublin are
-Catholic churches. Perhaps many of them are not aware that every
-church, graveyard, glebe-house, abbey, every rood of land, every
-building, and every farthing of revenue belonging to the Catholic
-Church in Ireland, has been confiscated by the English
-government. In Dublin, out of eighty-four churches, forty
-belonged to the English church, and only twenty to the Catholics,
-in 1866. At the close of the last century there was not a
-Catholic church in Dublin, nor could there be one according to
-law. All the churches and other institutions in Dublin are
-therefore the creation of the present century, the fruit of the
-free-will offerings of the poor people, and a few wealthy
-persons, such as Catherine McAuley, who consecrated her handsome
-fortune entirely to religion.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Patrick's dates from the year 1190, though the spire was
-added in the fourteenth century. It has been thoroughly repaired
-and renovated, at a cost of one hundred thousand pounds, which
-was given by the well-known brewer, Mr. Guinness. It contains one
-of St. Patrick's holy wells, which is visible through an opening
-in the floor, and guarded with great respect. Tradition says that
-the saint baptized the first Irish convert in this fountain. This
-is probably not true; but it is very likely that he did use it
-for baptism, and perhaps baptized in it the first converts in
-that part of the country. There are some ancient monuments of
-bishops and knights, and some modern ones of persons who have
-figured during the Protestant ascendency&mdash;Brown and Loftus,
-Swift, Stella, and the late Dr. Whately, who was Dr. Trench's
-immediate predecessor. It is painful enough to see the old
-churches and abbeys of England in the hands of aliens from the
-faith, although the mass of the people have fallen away and
-cannot appreciate the fearful loss they have suffered, in the
-substitution of a creature of parliament in the place of the
-spouse of Christ. In Ireland, where the people remain fervently
-and devoutly Catholic, it is a far more painful sight to witness
-their ancient shrines and holy places in the hands of the
-descendants of their spoilers, who are unable to make any use,
-even for Protestant worship, of the greater part of them.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_745">{745}</a></span>
-While the respectable sexton, whose appearance was that of a
-faded dean, was showing me the church for the consideration of a
-shilling, I was busily occupied in my own mind invoking St.
-Patrick to take his own again, bring back the altars, restore the
-unbloody sacrifice, and cause the chants of High Mass to resound
-once more within the walls of the venerable cathedral dedicated
-to his honor. It is a great consolation to reflect that since
-then the death-blow has been levelled at the state church by the
-same power which created it. And although justice has not yet
-been done to the Catholic people of Ireland, or any step taken to
-restore to them the sacred property of which they have been
-robbed, there is the greatest reason to hope that, in the course
-of events, they will yet regain it by fair and peaceable means,
-without violence or revolution.
-</p>
-<p>
-Two other objects which interested me greatly, were the chamber
-of the Irish House of Lords, preserved still in the same state as
-when the last session was held in it, and the tomb of O'Connell,
-at the beautiful cemetery of Glasnevin.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next morning I bade adieu to Ireland from the deck of the
-Kingstown and Holyhead steamer, and although it was only a
-passing glimpse I had obtained of this fair island, I shall
-always be thankful to have had even this glimpse.
-</p>
-<p>
-Ireland has the strongest claims on the love and gratitude of all
-Catholics throughout the English-speaking world. Her Celtic race,
-although distinct in character, language, and history from the
-people whose mother tongue is English, has been brought into such
-close relations with it, and is now blending with it to such a
-remarkable extent in this country, and other British colonies,
-that its history becomes as interesting to us as the early
-history of England. Moreover, although a handful of English and
-Scotch remained true to the faith during the revolution of the
-sixteenth century, it is to Ireland that is due the honor of
-holding aloft the banner of religion, around which are now
-grouped one fifth of the bishops owning allegiance to St. Peter.
-American converts are especially bound to gratitude to that Irish
-people who, above all others, have been the founders of the
-Catholic Church throughout the largest portion of our republic.
-For fourteen centuries, that people has handed down and witnessed
-to the faith which St. Patrick brought from France and Rome in
-the fifth century, when St. Augustine was yet scarcely cold in
-his grave. Without disparaging the great services which other
-nationalities have rendered to religion in our country, it is
-undoubted that, in our portion of it, it is through the Irish
-succession chiefly that we communicate with past ages, and
-through their rich life-blood that our Catholicity has become
-vigorous. As Catholics and as Americans, we are the natural
-friends of Ireland and the Irish. One very good and pleasant way
-of showing this friendship is, for those who have money enough to
-travel, to spend a portion of their time and money in Ireland.
-The advantage will be mutual. Those who are in search of health,
-pleasure, and improvement, cannot spend a month or two more
-delightfully or beneficially than on such a tour. On the other
-hand, the money spent, whether in purchases or in alms to the
-poor, will do great good, and the sympathy, kindness, respect for
-their religion and themselves, manifested toward the people so
-long borne down by the <i>peine forte et dure</i> of oppression
-and contempt, will be fully appreciated by their warm hearts, and
-encourage them to hope for the full coming of that better day
-whose dawning already appears in the horizon.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_746">{746}</a></span>
-<p>
-It is much to be desired that the good beginning already made by
-several excellent writers, in publishing books on the religious
-history of Ireland, should be actively followed up. A
-well-written, popular history, with illustrations, of all the
-principal places of interest in the secular and ecclesiastical
-history of the country, with sketches of the monastic
-institutions formerly flourishing; of the old churches, and
-episcopal sees; and lives of the saints and great men who have
-flourished, especially the martyrs, would be of the greatest
-service to religion. Such a volume would enable the Catholic
-tourist to visit the country with the greatest possible advantage
-and pleasure, beside the more important help it would give in
-strengthening the faith and devotion of the rising generation in
-Ireland, and the countries to which she has sent her colonies.
-The richest and most abundant field is open to literature of all
-kinds, both of the lighter and the more solid character, and it
-is to be hoped that it will be thoroughly explored and well
-worked by those who are true and faithful to the ancient,
-valiantly defended faith of the Island of Saints.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-
-            <h2>Primeval Man.</h2>
-			<p class="center_close">
-            [Footnote 196]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 186: <i>Primeval Man</i>. An Examination of some
-    Recent Speculations. By the Duke of Argyll. New York:
-    Routledge & Sons. 1869. 16mo, pp. 210.]
-<br>
-<br>
-<p>
-There are few more active or able members of the English House of
-Lords or of the British ministry than the Scottish Duke of
-Argyll, and, if we could forget the treason to the Stuarts and
-the Scottish nation of some of his ancestors, there are few
-scholars and scientific men in the United Kingdom whom we should
-be disposed to treat with greater respect. He is at once a
-statesman, a scientist, and a theologian; and in all three
-capacities has labored earnestly to serve his country and
-civilization. In politics, he is, of course, a whig, or, as is
-now said, a liberal; as a theologian, he belongs to the Kirk of
-Scotland, and may be regarded as a Calvinist; as a man of
-science, his aim appears to be to assert the freedom and
-independence of science, without compromising religion. His work
-on the <i>Reign of Law</i>, reviewed and sharply criticised in
-this magazine for February, 1868, was designed to combat the
-atheistic tendencies of modern scientific theories, by asserting
-final causes, and resolving the natural laws of the physicists
-into the direct and immediate will of God.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the present work, quite too brief and sketchy, he treats of
-the primeval man, and maintains man's origin in the creative act
-of God, against the developmentists and natural selectionists,
-which is well, as far as it goes. He treats, also, of the
-antiquity of man, and of his primeval condition. He appears
-disposed to allow man a higher antiquity than we think the facts
-in the case warrant; but, though he dissents, to some extent,
-from the theory of the late Anglican Archbishop of Dublin, we
-find him combating with great success the savage theory of Sir
-John Lubbock, who maintains that man began in the lowest form of
-barbarism in which he can subsist as man, and has risen to his
-present state of civilization by his own spontaneous and
-unassisted efforts&mdash;a theory just now very generally adopted in
-the non-Catholic world, and assumed as the basis of the modern
-doctrine of progress&mdash;the absurdest doctrine that ever gained
-currency among educated men.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_747">{747}</a></span>
-<p>
-The noble duke very properly denies the origin of species in
-development, and the production of new species by "natural
-selection," as Darwin holds, and acceded to by Sir Charles Lyell
-and an able writer in <i>The Quarterly</i> for last April. The
-duke maintains that man was created man, not developed from a
-lower species, from the tadpole or monkey. But, while he asserts
-the origin of species in the creative act of God, he supposes God
-supplies extinct species by creating new species by successive
-creative acts; thus losing the unity of the creative act, placing
-multiplicity in the origin of things, and favoring that very
-atheistical tendency he aims to war against. His <i>Reign of
-Law</i>, though well-intended, and highly praised by our amiable
-friend, M. Augustin Cochin, of <i>Le Correspondant</i>, showed us
-that the noble author has failed both in his theology and
-philosophy. In resolving the natural laws into the will of God
-enforcing itself by power, he fails to recognize any distinction
-between first cause and second cause, and, therefore, between the
-natural and the supernatural. God does all, not only as first
-cause, or <i>causa eminens</i>, as say the theologians, but as
-the direct and immediate actor, which, of course, is pantheism,
-itself only a form of atheism. Yet we know not that his grace
-could have done better, with Calvinism for his theology, and the
-Scottish school, as finished by Sir William Hamilton, for his
-philosophy. To have thoroughly refuted the theories against which
-he honorably protests, he must have known Catholic theology, and
-the Christian view of the creative act.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have no disposition, at present, to discuss the antiquity
-either of man or the globe. If the fact that God, <i>in the
-beginning</i>, created heaven and earth, and all things therein,
-visible and invisible, is admitted and maintained, we know not
-that we need, in the interest of orthodoxy, quarrel about the
-date when it was done. Time began with the externization of the
-divine creative act, and the universe has no relation beyond
-itself, except the relation of the creature to the creator.
-Considering the late date of the Incarnation, we are not disposed
-to assign man a very high antiquity, and no geological or
-historical facts are, as yet, established that require it for
-their explanation. We place little confidence in the hasty
-inductions of geologists.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the primitive condition of man has for us a deeper interest;
-and we follow the noble duke with pleasure in his able refutation
-of the savage theory of Sir J. Lubbock. Sir John evidently holds
-the theory of development, and that man has been developed from a
-lower species. He assumes that his primitive human state was the
-lowest form of barbarism in which he can subsist as man. With
-regard to man's development from lower animals, it is enough to
-say that development cannot take place except where there are
-living germs to be developed, and can only unfold and bring out
-what is contained in them. But we find in man, even in the lowest
-form of savage life, elements, language or articulate speech, for
-instance, of which there are no germs to be found in the animal
-kingdom. We may dismiss that theory and assume at once that man
-was created, and created man. But was his condition in his
-primitive state that of the lowest form of barbarism? Is the
-savage the primitive man, or the degenerate man?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_748">{748}</a></span>
-The former is assumed in almost every scientific work we meet; it
-is defended by all the advocates of the modern doctrine that man
-is naturally progressive. Saint-Simon, in his <i>Nouveau
-Christianisme</i>, asserts that paradise is before us, not behind
-us; and even some who accept the Biblical history have advanced
-so little in harmonizing their faith with what they call their
-science, that they do not hesitate to suppose that man began his
-career, at least after the prevarication of Adam, in downright
-savagism. Even the learned Döllinger so far falls in with the
-modern theory as to make polished gentilism originate in
-disgusting fetichism.
-</p>
-<p>
-The noble duke sufficiently refutes the theory of Sir John
-Lubbock, but does not seem to us to have fully grasped and
-refuted the assumptions on which it is founded. "His two main
-lines of argument," he says, (page 5,) "connect themselves with
-the two following propositions, which he undertakes to prove,
-First, that there are indications of progress even among savages;
-and second, that among civilized nations there are traces of
-barbarism."
-</p>
-<p>
-The first proposition is not proved or provable. The
-characteristic of the savage is to be unprogressive. Some tribes
-may be more or less degraded than others. The American Indian
-ranks above the New Hollander; but, whether more or less
-degraded, we never find savages lifting themselves by their own
-efforts into even a comparatively civilized state. Niebuhr says
-there is no instance on record of a savage tribe having become a
-civilized people by its own spontaneous efforts; and Heeren
-remarks that the description of the tribes eastward of the
-Persian Gulf along the borders of the Indian Ocean, by the
-companions of Alexander, applies perfectly to them as we now find
-them. No germs of civilized life are to be found among them, or,
-if so, they are dead, not living germs, incapable of development.
-The savage is a thorough routinist, the slave of petrified
-customs and usages. He shows often great skill in constructing
-and managing his canoe, in making and ornamenting his bow or his
-war-club; but one generation never advances on its predecessor,
-and the new generation only reproduces the old. All the arts the
-savage has have come, as his ideas, to a stand-still. He is
-stern, sad, gloomy, as if oppressed by memory, and exhibits none
-of the joyousness or frolicsomeness which we might expect from
-his fresh young life, if he represented the infancy or childhood
-of the race, as pretended.
-</p>
-<p>
-Even in what are called civilized heathen nations we find a
-continual deterioration, but no indication of progress in
-civilization, or in those elements which distinguish civilized
-from barbaric or savage life. Culture and polish may be the
-concomitants of civilization, but do not constitute it. The
-generations that built the pyramids, Babylon, Nineveh, Thebes,
-Rome, were superior to any of their successors. No subsequent
-Greek poet ever came up to Homer, and the oldest of the Vedas
-surpass the powers of the Indian people in any generation more
-recent than that which produced them. The Chinese cannot to-day
-produce new works to compare with those of Confucius. Where now
-are the once renowned nations of antiquity whose ships ploughed
-every sea, and whose armies made the earth tremble with their
-tread? Fallen, all have fallen, and remain only in their ruins,
-and the page of the historian or song of the bard.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_749">{749}</a></span>
-If these nations, so great and powerful, with many elements of a
-strong civilization, could not sustain themselves from falling
-into barbarism, how pretend that the lowest and most degraded
-savages can, without any foreign assistance, lift themselves into
-a civilized state?
-</p>
-<p>
-The second proposition, that civilized nations retain traces of
-barbarism, proves nothing to the purpose. These traces, at most,
-prove only that the nations in which we detect them have passed
-through a state of barbarism, as we know modern nations have; not
-that barbarism was, in any form, the primitive condition of the
-race. It is not pretended that no savage tribe has ever been
-civilized; what is denied is, that the race began in the savage
-state, or that, if it had so begun, it could ever have risen by
-its own natural forces alone to civilization. There is no
-evidence that the cruel and bloody customs, traces of which we
-find in civilized nations, were those of the primeval man. The
-polished and cultivated Romans were more savage in their customs
-than the northern barbarians who overthrew their civilization,
-much to the relief of mankind. When the late Theodore Parker drew
-a picture of the New Zealander in order to describe Adam, he
-proceeded according to his theory of progress, but without a
-shadow of authority. We find a cruelty, an inhumanity, an
-oppression, bloody and obscene rites, among polished nations&mdash;as
-Rome, Syria, Phoenicia, and modern India&mdash;that we shall look in
-vain for among downright savages; which shows that we owe them to
-cultivation, to development, that is, to "development," as the
-noble duke well says, "in corruption."
-</p>
-<p>
-But these traces of so-called barbarism among civilized nations
-are more than offset by remains of civilization which we find in
-savage tribes. Sir J. Lubbock and others take these remains as
-indications of progress among savages; but they mistake the
-evening twilight deepening into darkness, for that of the morning
-ushering in the day. This is evident from the fact that they are
-followed by no progress. They are reminiscences, not promises. If
-germs, they never germinate; but have been deprived of their
-vitality. To us, paganism bears witness in all its forms that it
-has degenerated from its <i>normna</i>, or type; not that it is
-advancing toward it. We see in its incoherence, its incongruities
-and inequalities, that it is a fall or departure from something
-higher, more living and more perfect. Any one studying
-Protestantism, in any of its forms, may see that it is not an
-original system of religion; that it is a departure from its
-type, not an approach to it; and, if we know well the Catholic
-Church, we see at once that in her is the type that Protestantism
-loses, corrupts, or travesties. So paganism bears unmistakable
-evidence of what we know from authentic history, that, whether
-with polished gentiles or with rude savages and barbarians, its
-type, from which it recedes, is the patriarchal religion. We know
-that it was an apostasy or falling away from that religion, the
-primitive religion of the race, as Protestantism is an apostasy
-or falling away from the Catholic Church. Protestantism, in the
-modern world, is what gentilism was in the ancient; and as
-gentilism is the religion of all savage or barbarian tribes, we
-have in Protestantism a key for explaining whatever is dark or
-obscure in their history. We see in Protestant nations a tendency
-to lose or throw off more and more of what they retained when
-they separated from the church, and which before the lapse of
-many generations, if not arrested, will lead them to a hopeless
-barbarism. The traces of Catholic faith we find in them are
-reminiscences, not prophecies.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_750">{750}</a></span>
-<p>
-We find with the lowest and most degraded savages, language, and
-often a language of great richness, singular beauty and
-expressiveness. Terms for which savages have no use may sometimes
-be wanting, but it is rare that the language cannot be made to
-supply them from its resources. In the poorest language of a
-savage tribe, there is always evidence of its having been the
-language of a people superior in ideas and culture to the present
-condition of those who speak it. Language, among savage tribes,
-we take to be always indicative of a lost state far above that of
-barbarism; and it not only refutes the theory of natural
-progress, but, as far as it goes, proves the doctrine of
-primitive instruction by the Creator, maintained by Dr. Whately,
-and only partially accepted by his Grace of Argyll.
-</p>
-<p>
-Language is no human invention, nor the product of individual or
-social progress. It requires language to invent language, and
-there is no individual progress out of society, and no society is
-possible without language. Hence, animals may be gregarious, but
-not sociable. They do not, and never can, form society. Max
-Müller has disposed of the bow-wow theory, or the origin of
-language in the imitation of the cries of animals, and also of
-the theory that supposes it to originate in the imitation of the
-sounds of nature, as buzz, rattle, etc.; for if a few words could
-originate in this way, language itself could not, since there is
-much more in language than words. The more common theory, just
-now, and which has respectable names in its favor, is that God is
-indeed the author of language, but as <i>causa eminens</i>, as he
-is of all that nature does; that is, he does not directly teach
-man language, but creates him with the power or faculty of
-speaking, and making himself understood by articulate speech. But
-this theory will not bear examination.
-</p>
-<p>
-Between language and the faculty of using it there is a
-difference, and no faculty creates its own object. The faculty of
-speaking could no more be exercised without language, than the
-faculty of seeing without a visible object. Where there is no
-language, the faculty is and must be inoperative. The error is in
-supposing that the faculty of using language is the faculty of
-creating language, which it cannot be; for, till the language is
-possessed and held in the mind, there is nothing for the faculty
-of speech to operate on or with. To have given man the faculty of
-speech, the Creator must have begun by teaching him language, or
-by infusing it with the meaning of its words into his mind. We
-misapprehend the very nature and office of language, if we
-suppose it can possibly be used except as learned from or taught
-by a teacher. Man, as second cause, can no more produce language
-than he can create something from nothing. If God made us as
-second causes capable of creating language, why can we not do it
-now, and master it without a long and painful study? Since the
-faculty must be the same in all men, why do not all men speak one
-and the same dialect?
-</p>
-<p>
-We will suppose man had language from the first. But there is no
-language without discourse of reason. A parrot or a crow may be
-taught to pronounce single words, and even sentences, but it
-would be absurd to assert that either has the faculty of
-language. To have language and be able to use it, one must have
-knowledge, and the sense of the word must precede, or at least be
-simultaneous with the word. Both the word and its meaning must be
-associated in the mind.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_751">{751}</a></span>
-How then could the Creator give man the faculty of language,
-without imparting to him in some way the ideas and principles it
-is fitted to express, and without expressing which it cannot be
-language? He must do so, or there could be no <i>verbum
-mentis</i>, and the word would be spoken without meaning.
-Moreover, all language is profoundly philosophical, and conforms
-more nearly to the reality of things than any human system yet
-attained to, not only by savages, but by civilized and cultivated
-men; and whenever it deviates from that reality, it is when it
-has been corrupted by the false systems and methods of
-philosophers. In all languages, we find subject, predicate, and
-copula. The copula is always the verb <i>to be</i>, teaching
-those who understand it that nothing existing can be affirmed
-except by being and in its relation to being, that is God, who is
-QUI EST. Were ignorant savages able distinctly to recognize and
-embody in language the ideal formula, when no philosopher can
-ever apprehend and consider it unless represented to him in
-words? Impossible.
-</p>
-<p>
-We take language, therefore, as a reminiscence among savages of a
-previous civilization, and a conclusive proof that, up to a
-certain point at least, the primeval man, as Dr. Whately
-maintains, was and must have been instructed by his Maker. As
-language is never known save as learned from a teacher, its
-existence among the lowest and most degraded barbarians is a
-proof that the primeval man was not, and could not have been an
-untutored savage. The Anglican archbishop, having, as the
-Scottish duke, no proper criterion of truth, may have included in
-the primitive instruction more than it actually contained. An
-error of this sort in an Anglican should surprise no one. Truth
-or sound philosophy from such a source would be the only thing to
-surprise us. We do not suppose Adam was directly instructed in
-all the mechanic arts, in the whole science and practice of
-agriculture, or in the entire management of flocks and herds, nor
-that he had steam-engines, spinning-jennies, power-looms,
-steamboats, railroads, locomotives, palace-cars, or even
-lightning telegraphs. We do not suppose that the race, in
-relation to the material order, received any direct instructions,
-except of the most elementary kind, or in matters of prime
-necessity, or high utility to his physical life and health. The
-ornamental arts, and other matters which do not exceed man's
-natural powers, may have been left to man to find out for
-himself, though we have instances recorded in which some of them
-were taught by direct inspiration, and many modern inventions are
-only the reproduction of arts once known, and subsequently lost
-or forgotten.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is not difficult to explain how our modern advocates of
-progress have come to regard the savage as the primeval man, and
-not as the degenerate man. Their theory of natural progress
-demands it, and they have always shown great facility in
-accommodating their facts to their theories. They take also their
-starting-point in heathenism of comparatively recent origin, and
-study the law of human development in the history of gentilism.
-They forget that gentilism originated in an apostasy from the
-patriarchal or primitive moral and religious order, and that,
-from the first, there remained, and always has remained, on earth
-a people that did not apostatize, that remained faithful to
-tradition, to the primitive instruction and wisdom.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_752">{752}</a></span>
-They fail to consider that, language confounded and the race
-dispersed, those who remained nearest the original seats of
-civilization, and were separated by the least distance from the
-people that remained faithful, became the earliest civilized or
-polished gentile nations, and that those who wandered further
-into the wilderness&mdash;receding further and further from light,
-losing more and more of their original patrimony, cut off from
-all intercourse with civilization by distance, by difference of
-language, and to some extent, perhaps, by physical changes and
-convulsions of the globe, degenerated gradually into barbarians
-and savages. Occasionally, in the course of ages, some of these
-wandering and degenerate tribes were brought under the influence
-of civilization by the arts, the arms, and the religion of the
-more civilized gentile nations. But in none has the gentile
-civilization, in the proper sense of the term, ever risen above
-what the gentiles took with them from the primitive stock, when
-they apostatized. Protestant nations are below, not above, what
-they were at the epoch of the Reformation. The reformers were
-greatly superior to any of their successors.
-</p>
-<p>
-But our philosophic historians take no account of these things,
-nor of the fact that history shows them no barbaric ancestors of
-the Egyptians, Indians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Syrians,
-Phoenicians, etc. They find, or think they find, from the Greek
-poets and traditions, that the ancestors of the Greeks and
-Romans, each a comparatively modern people, were really savages,
-and that suffices them to prove that the savage state is the
-primeval state of the race! They find, also, that a marvellous
-progress in civilization, under Christianity has been effected,
-and what hinders them from concluding that man is
-<i>naturally</i> progressive, or that the savage is able, by his
-own efforts, to lift himself into civilized life? Have not the
-northern barbarians, who overthrew the Roman empire of the west,
-and seated themselves on its majestic ruins, become, under the
-teachings and the supernatural influences of the church, the
-great civilized nations of the modern world? How, then, pretend
-to deny that barbarians and savages can become civilized by their
-own spontaneous efforts and natural forces alone?
-</p>
-<p>
-Whether any savage tribe was ever civilized under gentilism is,
-perhaps, doubtful; but if the philosophers of history would take
-the right line, instead of a collateral line or bastard branch of
-the human family, and follow it from Adam down, through the
-patriarchs, the synagogue, and the Catholic Church, they would
-find that there has always been a believing, a faithful, an
-enlightened, and a civilized people on earth, and they never
-would and never could have imagined any thing so untrue as that
-man began "in the lowest form of barbarism in which he can
-subsist as man." We have no indication of the existence of any
-savage or barbarous tribes before the flood; nor after the flood,
-till the confusion of language at Babel, and the consequent
-dispersion of the human race; that is, till after the gentile
-apostasy, of which they are one of the fruits. Adam, by his fall,
-lost communion with God, became darkened in his understanding,
-enfeebled in his will, and disordered in his appetites and
-passions; but he did not lose all his science, forget all his
-moral and religious instruction, and become a complete savage.
-Besides, his communion with God was renewed by repentance and
-faith in the promised Messiah, or incarnate Son of God, who
-should come to redeem the world, and enable man to fulfil his
-destiny, or attain his end.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_753">{753}</a></span>
-<p>
-We do not by any means deny progress. We believe in it with St.
-Paul, and struggle for it in individuals and in society. We only
-do not believe in progress or perfectibility by the simple forces
-of nature alone, or that man is naturally progressive. Existences
-have two movements or cycles: the one, their procession, by way
-of creation, from God as first cause; the other, their return,
-without absorption in him, to God as their final cause or
-beatitude, as we have on several occasions very fully shown. In
-the first cycle, man is explicated by natural generation, and his
-powers are determined by his nature, or the physical laws of his
-existence. In the second cycle, his explication is by
-regeneration, a supernatural act; and his progress is directed
-and controlled by the moral law prescribed by God as final cause,
-and is limited only by the infinite, to which he aspires, and, by
-the assistance of grace, may attain. The first cycle is initial,
-and in it there is no moral, religious, or social progress; there
-is only physical development and growth. It is under the natural
-laws of the physicists, who never look any further. The second
-cycle is teleological, and under the moral law, or the natural
-law of the theologians and the legists. In this teleological
-cycle lies the whole moral order, as distinguished from the
-physical; the whole of religion; its means, influences, and ends;
-and, consequently, civilization, in so far as it has any moral or
-religious character, aims, or tendency.
-</p>
-<p>
-Civilization, we are aware, is a word that has hardly a fixed
-meaning, and is used vaguely, and in different senses. It is
-derived from a word signifying the city&mdash;in modern language, the
-state&mdash;and relates to the organization, constitution, and
-administration of the commonwealth or republic. It is used
-vaguely for the aggregate of the manners, customs, and usages of
-city life, and also for the principles and laws of a well ordered
-and well-governed civil society. We take it chiefly in the latter
-sense, and understand by it the supremacy of the moral order in
-secular life, the reign of law, or the subjection of the passions
-and turbulent elements of human nature in the individual, the
-family, and society to the moral law; or, briefly, the
-predominance of reason and justice over passion and caprice in
-the affairs of this world, and therefore coincident with liberty,
-as distinguished from license. The race began in civilization,
-because it began with a knowledge of the law of human existence,
-man's origin and destiny, and of the means and conditions of
-gaining the end for which he exists; and because he was placed in
-the outset by his Maker in possession of these means and
-conditions, so that he could not fail except through his own
-fault. Those who reject, neglect, or pervert the moral order,
-follow only the natural laws, separate from the communion of the
-faithful, and remain in the initial cycle, gradually become
-barbarians, superstitious, the slaves of their own passions,
-cruel and merciless savages, even if still cultivated, refined,
-and mild-mannered.
-</p>
-<p>
-We place civilization, then, in the second cycle or movement of
-existences, under the moral law, and must do so or deny it all
-moral basis or moral character. What is not moral in its aims and
-tendencies, or is not in the order of man's return to God as his
-last end, we exclude from civilization, as no part of it, even if
-called by its name. There is no civilization where there is no
-state or civil polity; and there can be no state or civil polity,
-though there may be force, tyranny, and slavery, out of the moral
-order.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_754">{754}</a></span>
-The state lies in the moral or teleological order, and is under
-the moral law&mdash;the law prescribed by God as final cause. It
-derives all its principles from it, and is founded and governed
-by it. Its very mission is the maintenance of justice, freedom,
-and order; and, as far as it goes, to keep men's faces towards
-the end for which they are created. And hence the concord there
-is, or should be, between the state and the church.
-</p>
-<p>
-Most of those things, it will be seen from this, after which the
-gentiles seek, and which the moderns call civilization, may be
-adjuncts of civilization, in the sense of our Lord, when he says,
-"Seek first the kingdom of God and his justice, and <i>all these
-things shall be added</i> unto you;" but they do not constitute
-civilization, are not it, nor any part of it. Here is where
-modern gentilism errs, no less than did the ancient. Take up any
-of the leading journals of the day, and you will find what with
-great emphasis is called modern civilization is in the initial
-order, not the teleological; and is only a development and
-application of the natural laws of the physicists, not the
-natural or moral law of the theologians and legists. The press
-and popular orators called, a few years ago, Cyrus W. Field, who
-had taken a leading share in laying a submarine telegraph from
-the western coast of Ireland to the eastern coast of
-Newfoundland, a "second Messiah." When, after much urging and
-some threats, President Lincoln proclaimed, as a war measure, the
-emancipation of the slaves in certain States and parts of States
-then at war with the general government, the press and orators
-that approved, both at home and abroad, forthwith pronounced him
-also a "second Messiah," and without stopping to inquire whether
-the emancipation would be any thing more than the exchange of one
-form of compulsory physical labor for another, perhaps no better.
-Now, when a new Atlantic cable is laid from France to
-Massachusetts, we are told in flaring capitals and lofty periods
-that it is another and a glorious triumph of modern
-civilization&mdash;of mind over matter, man over nature. If our San
-Francisco friend succeeds in constructing an aerial ship, with
-which he can navigate the air, it will be a greater triumph still
-of modern civilization, and the theologians and moralists will
-have to hide their heads. All this shows that civilization, by
-the leaders of public opinion in our day, is placed wholly in the
-physical order, and consists in the development and application
-of the natural laws to the accomplishment of certain physical
-ends or purposes of utility only in the first cycle of our
-existence, and without the least moral significance. So
-completely have we become devoted to the improvement of our
-condition in the initial order, that we forget that life does not
-end with it, or that the initial exists only for the
-teleological, and that our development and application of the
-physical laws of nature imply no progress in civilization, or the
-realization of a moral ideal.
-</p>
-<p>
-But whatever success we may have in developing and applying to
-our own purposes the physical laws of man and the globe he
-inhabits, we must remember that no success of that sort initiates
-us into the second cycle, or the life of our return to God. To
-enter that life we must be regenerated, and we can no more
-regenerate than we can generate ourselves. Here, we may see why
-even to civilization the Incarnation of the Word is necessary.
-The hypostatic union of the divine and human natures in the
-divine person of the Word carries the creative act to its summit,
-completes the first cycle, and initiates the second, into which
-we can enter only as we are reborn of Christ, as we were born in
-the first cycle of Adam.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_755">{755}</a></span>
-Hence, Christ is called the second Adam, the Lord from heaven.
-Civilization, morality, salvation, are in one sense in the same
-order and under one and the same law.
-</p>
-<p>
-Progress being possible, except in the sense of physical
-development, only in the movement of return to God as final
-cause, and that movement originating in the Incarnation only, it
-follows that those nations alone that are united to Christ by
-faith and love, either united to him who was to come, as were the
-patriarchs and the synagogue, before the Incarnation, or to him
-in the church or the regeneration, as are Catholics since, are or
-can be progressive, or even truly civilized nations. They who
-assert progress by our natural forces alone, confound the first
-cycle with the second, generation with regeneration, and the
-natural laws, which proceed from God as first cause, with the
-natural or moral law which is prescribed by God as final cause.
-It is a great mistake, then, to suppose, as many do, that the
-mysteries of faith, even the most recondite, have no practical
-bearing on the progress of men and nations, or that it is safe,
-in studying civilization, to take our point of departure in
-gentilism.
-</p>
-<p>
-In accordance with our conclusion, we find that gentile nations,
-ancient or modern, are really unprogressive, save in the physical
-or initial order; which is of no account in the moral or
-teleological order. We deny not the achievements of Protestant
-nations in the physical order; but, in relation to the end for
-which man exists, they not only do not advance beyond what they
-took with them from the church, but are constantly deteriorating.
-They have lost the condition of moral and spiritual progress,
-individually and collectively, by losing communion with Christ in
-his church; they have lost Christ, in reality, if not in name;
-and by losing the infallible word preserved by the church alone,
-they have lost or are losing the state, civil authority itself,
-and finding themselves reduced to what St. Paul calls "the
-natural man." They place all their hopes in physical success,
-always certain to fail in the end, when pursued for its own sake.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have raised and we raise here no question as to what God might
-have done, or how or with what powers he might have created man,
-had he chosen. We only take the plan he has chosen to adopt; and
-which, in his providence and grace, he carries out. In the
-present decree, as say the theologians, he has subjected the
-whole teleological order to one and the same law; and
-civilization, morality, and Christian sanctity are not separable
-in principle, and depend on one and the same fundamental law.
-Gentilism divorces religion and the state from morality; and
-modern heresy recognizes no intrinsic relation between them. It
-tells us religion is necessary to the stability of the political
-order; that Christianity is the basis of morality, and that it is
-the great agent of progress; but it shows us no reason why it is
-or should be so, and in its practical doctrine it teaches that it
-is not so. Every thing, as far as it informs us, depends on
-arbitrary appointment, and without any reason of being in the
-system of things which God has seen proper to create. Hence,
-people are unable to form to themselves any clear view of the
-relation of religion and morality, of morality and civilization,
-or to arrive at any satisfactory understanding of the purpose and
-law of human existence; and they either frame to themselves the
-wildest, the most fanciful, or the most absurd theories, or give
-the whole up in despair, sink into a state of utter indifference,
-and say, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_756">{756}</a></span>
-They simply vegetate in vice or crime, or, at best, only take
-themselves to the study of the physical sciences, or the
-cultivation of the fine arts. We have shown that their
-difficulties and discouragements are imaginary, and arise from
-ignorance of the divine plan of creation, and the mutual relation
-and dependence of all its parts. One divine thought runs through
-the whole, and nothing does or can stand alone. We study things
-too much in their analysis, not enough in their synthesis.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-       <h3>Translated From The German<br>
-        Of Conrad Von Bolanden.</h3>
-
-              <h2>Angela.</h2>
-
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-          Chapter III.
-<br><br>
-      Quod Erat Demonstrandum.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the following day, Richard went to the weather-cross. He did
-not meet Angela. She must have been unusually early; for the
-flowers had evidently just been placed before the statue.
-</p>
-<p>
-He returned, gloomy, to the house and wrote in his diary:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "May 14th.&mdash;She did not meet me today, and probably will not
-  meet me again. I should have left the book where it was; it
-  might have awakened her gratitude; for I think she left it
-  purposely, to give me an opportunity to make her acquaintance.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "How many young women would give more than a book to get
-  acquainted with a wealthy party. The 'Angel' is very sensitive;
-  but this sensibility pleases me, because it is true womanly
-  delicacy.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "She will now avoid meeting me in this lonely road. But I will
-  study her character in her father's house. I will see if she
-  does not confirm my opinion of the women of our times. It was
-  for this purpose alone that I accepted Siegwart's invitation.
-  Angela must not play Isabella; no woman ever shall. Single and
-  free from woman's yoke, I will go through the world."
-</p>
-<p>
-He put aside the diary, and began reading Vogt's <i>Physiological
-Letters</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-At three o'clock precisely, Richard with the punctual doctor left
-Frankenhöhe. They passed through the chestnut grove and through
-the vineyard toward Salingen. The doctor pushed on with long
-steps, his arms swinging back and forth. He was evidently pleased
-with the subject he had been reading. He had, on leaving the
-house, shaken Richard by the hand, and spoken a few friendly
-words, but not a syllable since. Richard knew his ways, and knew
-that it would take some time for him to thaw.
-</p>
-<p>
-They were passing between Siegwart's house and Salingen when they
-beheld Angela, at a distance, coming toward them. She carried a
-little basket on her arm, and on her head she wore a straw hat
-with broad fluttering ribbons. Richard fixed his eyes attentively
-on her. This time, also, she did not wear hoops, but a dress of
-modest colors. He admired her light, graceful movement and
-charming figure. The blustering doctor moderated his steps and
-went slower the nearer he came to Angela, and considered her with
-surprise. Frank greeted her, touching his hat. She did not thank
-him, as before, with a friendly greeting, but by a scarcely
-perceptible inclination of the head; nor did she smile as before,
-but on this account seemed to him more charming and ethereal than
-ever. She only glanced at him, and he thought he observed a
-slight blush on her cheeks.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_757">{757}</a></span>
-<p>
-These particulars were engrossing the young man's attention when
-he heard the doctor say,
-</p>
-<p>
-"Evidently the Angel of Salingen."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who?" said Richard in surprise.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The Angel of Salingen," returned Klingenberg. "You are surprised
-at this appellation; is it not well-merited?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"My surprise increases, doctor; for exaggeration is not your
-fashion."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But she deserves acknowledgment. Let me explain. The maiden is
-the daughter of the proprietor Siegwart, and her name is Angela.
-She is a model of every virtue. She is, in the female world, what
-an image of the Virgin, by one of the old masters, would be among
-the hooped gentry of the present. As you are aware, I have been
-often called to the cabins of the sick poor, and there the quiet,
-unostentatious labors of this maiden have become known to me.
-Angela prepares suitable food for the sick, and generally takes
-it to them herself. The basket on her arm does service in this
-way. There are many poor persons who would not recover unless
-they had proper, nourishing food. To these Angela is a great
-benefactor. For this reason, she has a great influence over the
-minds of the sick, and the state of the mind greatly facilitates
-or impedes their recovery.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have often entered just after she had departed, and the
-beneficial influence of her presence could be still seen in the
-countenances of the poor. Her presence diffused resignation,
-peace, contentment, and a peculiar cheerfulness in the meanest
-and most wretched hovels of poverty, where she enters without
-hesitation. This is certainly a rare quality in so young a
-creature. She rejoices the hearts of the children by giving them
-clothes, sometimes made by herself, or pictures and the like. Her
-whole object appears to be to reconcile and make all happy. I
-have just seen her for the first time; her beauty is remarkable,
-and might well adorn an angel. The common people wish only to
-Germanize 'Angela' when they call her 'Angel.' But she is indeed
-an angel of heaven to the poor and needy."
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank said nothing. He moved on in silence toward the
-weather-cross.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have accidentally discovered a singular custom of your
-'angel,' doctor. There is at the weather-cross a Madonna of
-stone. Angela has imposed upon herself the singular task of
-adorning this Madonna, daily, with fresh flowers."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are a profane fellow, Richard. You should not speak in such
-a derisive tone of actions which are the out-flowings of pious
-sentiment."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Every one has his hobby. What will not people do through
-ambition? I know ladies who torture a piano for half the night,
-in order to catch the tone of the prima-donna at the opera. I
-know women who undergo all possible privations to be able to wear
-as fine clothes, as costly furs, as others with whom they are in
-rivalry. This exhaustive night-singing, these deprivations, are
-submitted to through foolish vanity. Perhaps Angela is not less
-ambitious and vain than others of her sex. As she cannot dazzle
-these country folk with furs or toilette, she dazzles their
-religious sentiment by ostentatious piety."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Radically false!" said the doctor. "Charity and virtue are
-recognized and honored not only in the country, but also in the
-cities. Why do not your coquettes strive for this approval?
-Because they want Angela's nobility of soul.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_758">{758}</a></span>
-And again, why should Angela wish to gain the admiration of the
-peasants? She is the daughter of the wealthiest man in the
-neighborhood. If such was her object, she could gratify her
-ambition in a very different way."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then Angela is a riddle to me," returned Richard. "I cannot
-conceive the motives of her actions."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Which are so natural! The maiden follows the impulses of her own
-noble nature, and these impulses are developed and directed by
-Christian culture, and convent education. Angela was a long time
-with the nuns, and only returned home two years ago. Here you
-have the very natural solution of the riddle."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are you acquainted with the Siegwart family?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No; what I know of Angela I learned from the people of
-Salingen."
-</p>
-<p>
-They arrived at the platform. Klingenberg stood silent for some
-time admiring the landscape. The view did not seem to interest
-Richard. His eyes rested on Angela's home, whose white walls,
-surrounded by vineyards and corn-fields, glistened in the sun.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is worth while to come up here oftener," said Klingenberg.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Angela's work," said Richard as he drew near the statue. The
-doctor paused a moment and examined the flowers.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you observe Angela's fine taste in the arrangement of the
-colors?" said he. "And the forget-me-nots! What a deep religious
-meaning they have."
-</p>
-<p>
-They returned by another way to Frankenhöhe.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Angela's pious work," began Richard after a long pause, "reminds
-me of a religious custom against which modern civilization has
-thus far warred in vain. I mean the veneration of saints. You, as
-a Protestant, will smile at this custom, and I, as a Catholic,
-must deplore the tenacity with which my church clings to this
-obsolete remnant of heathen idolatry."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! this is the subject you alluded to yesterday," said the
-doctor. "I must, in fact, smile, my dear Richard! But I by no
-means smile at 'the tenacity with which your church clings to the
-obsolete remnants of heathen idolatry.' I smile at your queer
-idea of the veneration of the saints. I, as a reasonable man,
-esteem this veneration, and recognize its admirable and
-beneficial influence on human society."
-</p>
-<p>
-This declaration increased Frank's surprise to the highest
-degree. He knew the clear mind of the doctor, and could not
-understand how it happened that he wished to defend a custom so
-antagonistic to modern thought.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You find fault," continued Klingenberg, "with the custom of
-erecting statues to these holy men in the churches, the forest,
-the fields, the houses, and in the market?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, I do object to that."
-</p>
-<p>
-"If you had objected to the lazy Schiller at Mayence, or the
-robber's poet Schiller, as he raves at the theatre in Mannheim,
-or to the conqueror and destroyer of Germany, Gustavus Adolphus,
-whose statue is erected as an insult in a German city, then you
-would be right."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Schiller-worship has its justification," retorted Frank. "They
-erect public monuments to the genial spirit of that man, to
-remind us of his services to poetry, his aspirations, and his
-German patriotism."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is praiseworthy to erect monuments to the poet. But do not
-talk of Schiller's patriotism, for he had none. But let that
-pass; it is not to the point. The question is, whether you
-consider it praiseworthy to erect monuments to deserving and
-exalted genius?"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_759">{759}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Without the least hesitation, I say yes. But I see what you are
-driving at, doctor. I know the remorseless logic of your
-inferences. But you will not catch me in your vise this time. You
-wish to infer that the saints far surpassed Schiller in nobility
-and greatness of soul, and that honoring them, therefore, is more
-reasonable, and more justifiable, than honoring Schiller. I
-dispute the greatness of the so-called saints. They were men full
-of narrowness and rigorism. They despised the world and their
-friends. They carried this contempt to a wonderful extent&mdash;to a
-renunciation of all the enjoyments of life, to voluntary poverty
-and unconditional obedience. But all these are fruits that have
-grown on a stunted, morbid tree, and are in opposition to
-progress, to industry, and to the enlightened civilization of
-modern times. The dark ages might well honor such men, but our
-times cannot. Schiller, on the contrary, that genial man, taught
-us to love the pleasures of life. By his fine genius and his odes
-to pleasure, he frightened away all the spectres of these
-enthusiastic views of life. He preached a sound taste and a free,
-unconstrained enjoyment of the things of this beautiful earth.
-And for this reason precisely, because he inaugurated this new
-doctrine, does he deserve monuments in his honor."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How does it happen then, my friend," said the doctor, in a
-cutting tone that was sometimes peculiar to him, "that you do not
-take advantage of the modern doctrine of unconstrained enjoyment?
-Why have you preserved fresh your youthful vigor, and not
-dissipated it at the market of sensual pleasures? Why is your
-mode of life so often a reproach to your dissolute friends? Why
-do you avoid the resorts of refined pleasures? Why are the
-coquettish, vitiated, hollow inclinations of a great part of the
-female sex so distasteful to you? Answer me!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"These are peculiarities of my nature; individual opinions that
-have no claim to any weight."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Peculiarities of your nature&mdash;very right; your noble nature,
-your pure feelings rebel against these moral acquisitions of
-progress. I begin with your noble nature. If I did not find this
-good, true self in you, I would waste no more words. But because
-you are what you are, I must convince you of the error of your
-views. Schiller, you say, and, with him, the modern spirit,
-raised the banner of unrestrained enjoyment, and this enjoyment
-rests on sensual pleasures, does it not?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well&mdash;yes."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I knew and know many who followed this banner&mdash;and you also know
-many. Of those whom I knew professionally, some ended their days
-in the hospital, of the most loathsome diseases. Some, unsatiated
-with the whole round of pleasures, drag on a miserable life, dead
-to all energy, and spiritless. They drank the full cup of
-pleasure, and with it unspeakable bitterness and disgust. Some
-ended in ignominy and shame&mdash;bankruptcy, despair, suicide. Such
-are the consequences of this modern dogma of unrestrained
-enjoyments."
-</p>
-<p>
-"All these overstepped the proper bounds of pleasure," said
-Richard.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The proper bounds? Stop!" cried the doctor. "No leaps, Richard!
-Think clearly and logically. Christianity also allows enjoyment,
-but&mdash;and here is the point&mdash;in certain limits. Your progress, on
-the contrary, proclaims freedom in moral principles, a disregard
-of all moral obligations, unrestricted enjoyment&mdash;and herein
-consists the danger and delusion. I ask, Are you in favor of
-restricted or unrestricted enjoyment?"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_760">{760}</a></span>
-<p>
-Frank hesitated. He felt already the thumbscrew of the
-irrepressible doctor, and feared the inferences he would draw
-from his admissions.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come!" urged Klingenberg, "decide."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Sound reason declares for restricted enjoyment," said Frank
-decidedly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Good; there you leave the unlimited sphere which godless
-progress has given to the thoughts and inclinations of men. You
-admit the obligation of self control, and the restraint of the
-grosser emotions. But let us proceed; you speak of industry. The
-modern spirit of industry has invoked a demon&mdash;or, rather, the
-demoniac spirit of the times has taken possession of industry.
-The great capitalists have built thrones on their money-bags and
-tyrannize over those who have no money. They crush out the
-work-shop of the industrious and well-to-do tradesman, and compel
-him to be their slave. Go into the factories of Elfeld, or
-England; you can there see the slaves of this demon
-industry&mdash;miserable creatures, mentally and morally stunted,
-socially perishing; not only slaves, but mere wheels of the
-machines. This is what modern industry has made of those poor
-wretches, for whom, according to modern enlightenment, there is
-no higher destiny than to drag through life in slavery, to
-increase the money-bags of their tyrants. But the capitalists
-have perfect right, according to modern ideas; they only use the
-means at their command. The table of the ten commandments has
-been broken; the yoke of Christianity broken. Man is morally and
-religiously free; and from this false liberalism the tyranny of
-plutocracy and the slavery of the poor has been developed. Are
-you satisfied with the development, and the principles that made
-it possible?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No," said Frank decidedly. "I despise that miserable
-industrialism that values the product more than the man. My
-admissions are, how ever, far from justifying the exaggerated
-notions of the saints."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Wait a bit!" cried Klingenberg hastily. "I have just indicated
-the cause of this wretched egotism, and also a
-consequence&mdash;namely, the power of great capitalists and
-manufacturers over an army of white slaves. But this is by no
-means all. This demon of industry has consequences that will ruin
-a great portion of mankind. Now mark what I say, Richard! The
-richness of the subject allows me only to indicate. The
-progressive development of industry brings forth products of
-which past ages were ignorant, because they were not necessary
-for life. The existence of these products creates a demand. The
-increased wants increase the outlay, which in most cases does not
-square with the income, and therefore the accounts of many close
-with a deficit. The consequences of this deficit for the
-happiness, and even for the morals of the family, I leave
-untouched. The increased products beget luxury and the desire for
-enjoyment; the ultimate consequences of which enervate the
-individual and society. Hence the phenomenon, in England, that
-the greater portion of the people in the manufacturing towns die
-before the age of fifteen, and that many are old men at thirty.
-Enervated and demoralized peoples make their existence
-impossible. They go to the wall. This is a historical fact. Ergo,
-modern industry separated from Christian civilization hastens the
-downfall of nations."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_761">{761}</a></span>
-<p>
-"I cannot dispute the truth of your observations. But you have
-touched only the dark side of modern industry, without mentioning
-its benefits. If industry is a source of fictitious wants, it
-affords, on the other hand, cheap prices to the poor for the most
-necessary wants of life; for example, cheap materials for
-clothing."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Very cheap, but also very poor material," answered Klingenberg.
-"In former times, clothing was dearer, but also better. They knew
-nothing of the rags of the present fabrication. And it may be
-asked whether that dearer material was not cheaper in the end for
-the poor. When this is taken into consideration, the new material
-has no advantage over the old. I will freely admit that the
-inventions of modern times do honor to human genius. I
-acknowledge the achievements of industry, as such. I admire the
-improvements of machinery, the great revolution caused by the use
-of steam, and thousands of other wonders of art. No sensible man
-will question the relative worth of all these. But all these are
-driven and commanded by a bad influence, and herein lies the
-injury. We must consider industrialism from this higher
-standpoint. What advantage is it to a people to be clothed in
-costly stuffs when they are enervated, demoralized, and
-perishing? Clothe a corpse as you will, a corpse it will be
-still. And besides, the greatest material good does not
-compensate the white factory-slaves for the loss of their
-liberty. The Lucullan age fell into decay, although they feasted
-on young nightingales, drank liquified pearls, and squandered
-millions for delicacies and luxuries. The life of nations does
-not consist in the external splendor of wealth, in easy comfort,
-or in unrestrained passions. Morality is the life of nations, and
-virtue their internal strength. But virtue, morality, and
-Christian sentiment are under the ban of modern civilization. If
-Christianity does not succeed in overcoming this demon spirit of
-the times, or at least confining it within narrow limits, it will
-and must drive the people to certain destruction. We find decayed
-peoples in the Christian era, but the church has always rescued
-and regenerated them. While the acquisitions of modern
-times&mdash;industrialism, enlightenment, humanitarianism, and
-whatever they may be called&mdash;are, on the one hand, of little
-advantage or of doubtful worth, they are, on the other hand, the
-graves of true prosperity, liberty, and morality. They are the
-cause of shameful terrorism and of degrading slavery, in the
-bonds of the passions and in the claws of plutocracy."
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank made no reply.
-</p>
-<p>
-For a while they walked on in silence.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Let us," continued Klingenberg, "consider personally those men
-whose molten images stand before us. Schiller's was a noble
-nature, but Schiller wrote:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "'No more this fight of duty, hence no longer
-      This giant strife will I!
-    Canst quench these passions evermore the stronger?
-      Then ask not virtue, what I must deny.
-
-  "'Albeit I have sworn, yea, sworn that never
-      Shall yield my master will;
-    Yet take thy wreath; to me 'tis lost for ever!
-      Take back thy wreath, and let me sin my fill.'
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Is this a noble and exalted way of thinking? Certainly not.
-Schiller would be virtuous if he could clothe himself in the
-lustre of virtue without sacrifice. The passionate impulses of
-the heart are stronger in him than the sense of duty. He gives
-way to his passions. He renounces virtue because he is too weak,
-too languid, too listless to encounter this giant strife bravely
-like a strong man. Such is the noble Schiller. In later years,
-when the fiery impulses of his heart had subsided, he roused
-himself to better efforts and nobler aims.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_762">{762}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Consider the prince of poets, Goethe. How morally naked and poor
-he stands before us! Goethe's coarse insults to morality are well
-known. His better friend, Schiller, wrote of him to Koerner, 'His
-mind is not calm enough, because his domestic relations, which he
-is too weak to change, cause him great vexation.' Koerner
-answered,' Men cannot violate morality with impunity.' Six years
-later, the 'noble' Goethe was married to his 'mistress' at
-Weimar. Goethe's detestable political principles are well known.
-He did not possess a spark of patriotism. He composed hymns of
-victory to Napoleon, the tyrant, the destroyer and desolator of
-Germany. These are the heroes of modern sentiment, the advance
-guard of liberty, morality, and true manhood! And these heroes so
-far succeeded that the noble Arndt wrote of his time, 'We are
-base, cowardly, and stupid; too poor for love, too listless for
-anger, too imbecile for hate. Undertaking every thing,
-accomplishing nothing; willing every thing, without the power of
-doing any thing.' So far has this boasted freethinking created
-disrespect for revealed truth. So far this modern civilization,
-which idealizes the passions, leads to mockery of religion and
-lets loose the baser passions of man. If they cast these
-representatives of the times in bronze, they should stamp on the
-foreheads of their statues the words of Arndt:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "'We are base, cowardly, and stupid; too poor for love, too
-  listless for anger, too imbecile for hate. Undertaking every
-  thing, accomplishing nothing; willing every thing, without the
-  power of doing any thing."'
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are severe, doctor."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am not severe. It is the truth."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How does it happen that a people so weak, feeble, and base could
-overthrow the power of the French in the world?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"That was because the German people were not yet corrupted by
-that shallow, unreal, hollow twaddle of the educated classes
-about humanity. It was not the princes, not the nobility, who
-overthrew Napoleon. It was the German people who did it. When, in
-1813, the Germans rose, in hamlet and city, they staked their
-property and lives for fatherland. But it was not the enlightened
-poets and professors, not modern sentimentality, that raised
-their hearts to this great sacrifice; not these who enkindled
-this enthusiasm for fatherland. It was the religious element that
-did it. The German warriors did not sing Goethe's hymns to
-Napoleon, nor the insipid model song of 'Luetzows wilder Jagd,'
-as they rushed into battle. They sang religious hymns, they
-prayed before the altars. They recognized, in the terrible
-judgment on Russia's ice-fields, the avenging hand of God.
-Trusting in God, and nerved by religious exaltation, they took up
-the sword that had been sharpened by the previous calamities of
-war. So the feeble philanthropists could effect nothing. It was
-only a religious, healthy, strong people could do that."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But the saints, doctor! We have wandered from them."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not at all! We have thrown some light on inimical shadows; the
-light can now shine. The lives of the saints exhibit something
-wonderful and remarkable. I have studied them carefully. I have
-sought to know their aims and efforts. I discovered that they
-imitated the example of Christ, that they realized the exalted
-teachings of the Redeemer. You find fault with their contempt for
-the things of this world. But it is precisely in this that these
-men are great.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_763">{763}</a></span>
-Their object was not the ephemeral, but the enduring. They
-considered life but as the entrance to the eternal destiny of
-man--in direct opposition to the spirit of the times, that dances
-about the golden calf. The saints did not value earthly goods for
-more than they were worth. They placed them after self-control
-and victory over our baser nature. Exact and punctual in all
-their duties, they were animated by an admirable spirit of
-charity for their fellow-men. And in this spirit they have
-frequently revived society. Consider the great founders of
-orders--St. Benedict, St. Dominic, St. Vincent de Paul! Party
-spirit, malice, and stupidity have done their worst to blacken,
-defame, and calumniate them. And yet, in a spirit of
-self-sacrifice, the sons of St. Benedict came among the German
-barbarians, to bring to them the ennobling doctrines of
-Christianity. It was the Benedictines who cleared the primeval
-forests, educated their wild denizens, and founded schools; who
-taught the barbarians handiwork and agriculture. Science and
-knowledge flourished in the cloisters. And to the monks alone we
-are indebted for the preservation of classic literature. What the
-monks did then they are doing now. They forsake home, break all
-ties, and enter the wilderness, there to be miserably cut off in
-the service of their exalted mission, or to die of poisonous
-fevers. Name me one of your modern heroes, whose mouths are full
-of civilization, humanity, enlightenment--name me one who is
-capable of such sacrifice. These prudent gentlemen remain at home
-with their gold-bags and their pleasures, and leave the stupid
-monk to die in the service of exalted charity. It is the
-hypocrisy and the falsehood of the modern spirit to exalt itself,
-and belittle true worth. And what did St. Vincent de Paul do?
-More than all the gold-bags together. St. Vincent, alone, solved
-the social problem of his time. He was, in his time, the
-preserver of society, or rather, Christianity through him. And
-to-day our gold-bags tremble before the apparition of the same
-social problem. Here high-sounding phrases and empty declamation
-do not avail. Deeds only are of value. But the inflated spirit of
-the times is not capable of noble action. It is not the modern
-state&mdash;not enlightened society, sunk in egotism and gold&mdash;that
-can save us. Christianity alone can do it. Social development
-will prove this."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not dispute the services of the saints to humanity," said
-Frank. "But the question is, Whether society would be benefited
-if the fanatical, dark spirit of the middle ages prevailed,
-instead of the spirit of modern times?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"The fanatical, dark spirit of the middle ages!" cried the doctor
-indignantly. "This is one of those fallacious phrases. The saints
-were not fanatical or dark. They were open, cheerful, natural,
-humble men. They did not go about with bowed necks and downcast
-eyes; but affable, free from hypocrisy, and dark, sullen
-demeanor, they passed through life. Many saints were poets. St.
-Francis sang his spiritual hymns to the accompaniment of the
-harp. St. Charles played billiards. The holy apostle, St. John,
-resting from his labors, amused himself in childish play with a
-bird. Such were these men; severe toward themselves, mild to
-others, uncompromising with the base and mean. They were all
-abstinent and simple, allowing themselves only the necessary
-enjoyments. They concealed from observation their severe mode of
-life, and smiled while their shoulders bled from the discipline.
-Pride, avarice, envy, voluptuouness, and all the bad passions,
-were strangers to them; not because they had not the inclinations
-to these passions, but because they restrained and overcame their
-lower nature.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_764">{764}</a></span>
-<p>
-"I ask you, now, which men deserve our admiration&mdash;those who are
-governed by unbounded selfishness, who are slaves to their
-passions, who deny themselves no enjoyment, and who boast of
-their degrading licentiousness; or those who, by reason of a pure
-life, are strong in the government of their passions, and
-self-sacrificing in their charity for their fellowmen?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"The preference cannot be doubtful," said Frank. "For the saints
-have accomplished the greatest, they have obtained the highest
-thing, self-control. But, doctor, I must condemn that
-saint-worship as it is practised now. Human greatness always
-remains human, and can make no claims to divine honor."
-</p>
-<p>
-The doctor swung his arms violently. "What does this reproach
-amount to? Where are men deified? In the Catholic Church? I am a
-Protestant, but I know that your church condemns the deification
-of men."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Doctor," said Frank, "my religious ignorance deserves this
-rebuke."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I meant no rebuke. I would only give conclusions. Catholicism is
-precisely that power that combats with success against the
-deifying of men. You have in the course of your studies read the
-Roman classics. You know that divine worship was offered to the
-Roman emperors. So far did heathen flattery go, that the emperors
-were honored as the sons of the highest divinity&mdash;Jupiter.
-Apotheosis is a fruit of heathen growth; of old heathenism and of
-new heathenism. When Voltaire, that idol of modern heathen
-worship, was returning to Paris in 1778, he was in all
-earnestness promoted to the position of a deity. This remarkable
-play took place in the theatre. Voltaire himself went there.
-Modern fanaticism so far lost all shame that the people kissed
-the horse on which the philosopher rode to the theatre. Voltaire
-was scarcely able to press through the crowd of his worshippers.
-They touched his clothes&mdash;touched handkerchiefs to them&mdash;plucked
-hairs from his fur coat to preserve as relics. In the theatre
-they fell on their knees before him and kissed his feet. Thus
-that tendency that calls itself free and enlightened deified a
-man&mdash;Voltaire, the most trifling scoffer, the most unprincipled,
-basest man of Christendom.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Let us consider an example of our times. Look at Garibaldi in
-London. That man permitted himself to be set up and worshipped.
-The saints would have turned away from this stupidity with
-loathing indignation. But this boundless veneration flattered the
-old pirate Garibaldi. He received 267,000 requests for locks of
-his hair, to be cased in gold and preserved as relics. Happily he
-had not much hair. He should have graciously given them his
-moustaches and whiskers."
-</p>
-<p>
-Frank smiled. Klingenberg's pace increased, and his arms swung
-more briskly.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Such is the man-worship of modern heathenism. This
-humanitarianism is ashamed of no absurdity, when it sinks to the
-worship of licentiousness and baseness personified."
-</p>
-<p>
-"The senseless aberrations of modern culture do not excuse saint
-worship. And you certainly do not wish to excuse it in that way.
-There is, however, a reasonable veneration of human greatness.
-Monuments are erected to great men. We behold them and are
-reminded of their genius, their services; and there it stops. It
-occurs to no reasonable man to venerate these men on his knees,
-as is done with the saints."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_765">{765}</a></span>
-<p>
-"The bending of the knee, according to the teaching of your
-church, does not signify adoration, but only veneration," replied
-Klingenberg. "Before no Protestant in the world would I bend the
-knee; before St. Benedict and St. Vincent de Paul I would
-willingly, out of mere admiration and esteem for their greatness
-of soul and their purity of morals. If a Catholic kneels before a
-saint to ask his prayers, what is there offensive in that? It is
-an act of religious conviction. But I will not enter into the
-religious question. This you can learn better from your Catholic
-brethren&mdash;say from the Angel of Salingen, for example, who
-appears to have such veneration for the saints."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You will not enter into the religious question; yet you defend
-saint-worship, which is something religious."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not defend it on religious grounds, but from history,
-reason, and justice. History teaches that this veneration had,
-and still has, the greatest moral influence on human society. The
-spirit of veneration consists in imitating the example of the
-person venerated. Without this spirit, saint-worship is an idle
-ceremony. But that true veneration of the saints elevates and
-ennobles, you cannot deny. Let us take the queen of saints, Mary.
-What makes her worthy of veneration? Her obedience to the Most
-High, her humility, her strength of soul, her chastity. All these
-virtues shine out before the spiritual eyes of her worshippers as
-models and patterns of life. I know a lady, very beautiful, very
-wealthy; but she is also very humble, very pure, for she is a
-true worshipper of Mary. Would that our women would venerate Mary
-and choose her for a model! There would then be no coquettes, no
-immodest women, no enlightened viragoes. Now, as saint-worship is
-but taking the virtues of the saints as models for imitation, you
-must admit that veneration in this sense has the happiest
-consequences to human society."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I admit it&mdash;to my great astonishment, I must admit it," said
-Richard.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Let us take a near example," continued Klingenberg. "I told you
-of the singular qualities of Angela. As she passed, I beheld her
-with wonder. I must confess her beauty astonished me. But this
-astonishing beauty, it appears to me, is less in her charming
-features than in the purity, the maidenly dignity of her
-character. Perhaps she has to thank, for her excellence, that
-same correct taste which leads her to venerate Mary. Would not
-Angela make an amiable, modest, dutiful wife and devoted mother?
-Can you expect to find this wife, this mother among those given
-to fashions&mdash;among women filled with modern notions?"
-</p>
-<p>
-While Klingenberg said this, a deep emotion passed over Richard's
-face. He did not answer the question, but let his head sink on
-his breast.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Here is Frankenhöhe," said the doctor. "As you make no more
-objections, I suppose you agree with me. The saints are great,
-admirable men; therefore they deserve monuments. They are models
-of virtue and the greatest benefactors of mankind; therefore they
-deserve honor. '<i>Quod erat demonstrandum</i>.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I only wonder, doctor, that you, a Protestant, can defend such
-views."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You will allow Protestants to judge reasonably," replied
-Klingenberg. "My views are the result of careful study and
-impartial reflection."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_766">{766}</a></span>
-<p>
-"I am also astonished&mdash;pardon my candor&mdash;that with such views you
-can remain a Protestant."
-</p>
-<p>
-"There is a great difference between knowing and willing, my
-young friend. I consider conversion an act of great heroism, and
-also as a gift of the highest grace."
-</p>
-<p>
-Richard wrote in his diary:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "If Angela should be what the doctor considers her! According
-  to my notions, such a being exists only in the realm of the
-  ideal. But if Angela yet realizes this ideal? I must be
-  certain. I will visit Siegwart to-morrow."
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-            To Be Continued.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-
-           <h3>From The German</h3>
-
-        <h2>The Flight Into Egypt.</h2>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  Greenwood tent, new splendors wear,
-     Let thy festal tree-tops glisten;
-     Stag, come here to look and listen;
-  For the world's joy draweth near!
-     Flowers, unclose your lids, that clearer
-     Light your dew-wet eyes may mirror.
-        Blossom! blossom!
-	On her bosom
-  Lo! the mother bears the Child!
-
-  Glad-winged birds, from forest dim,
-     Hither fly, where peace long-sought is;
-     Sing melodious jubilates,
-  With the blessèd cherubim.
-     Morning airs, come quick! with tender
-     Thrill breathe on the branches slender;
-        Breathe and hover!
-	Rough ways over
-   Comes the mother with the Child!
-
-   Stag, birds, trees, and breezes blest,
-      Triumph in harmonious numbers&mdash;
-      Fear not to disturb the slumbers
-   Of the Babe upon her breast.
-      Gently lull him with your voices,
-      O'er whom all the world rejoices!
-         Sing, adore him!
-         Bend before him!
-   Hail the mother with the Child!
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_767">{767}</a></span>
-
-  <h2>Hon. Thomas Dongan,<br>
-  Governor of New York.</h2>
-  <p class="center_close">
-  [Footnote 187]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 187: Authorities: O'Callaghan's <i>Documentary and
-    Colonial Histories of New York</i>. Bancroft's <i>History of
-    the United States</i>. Lingard's <i>History of England</i>.
-    Bishop Bayley's <i>History of the Catholic Church in New
-    York</i>. O'Callaghan's <i>Journal of the Legislature of New
-    York</i>, especially a note thereto, by George H. Moore, Esq.
-    Shea's <i>History of the Catholic Missions</i>. Campbell's
-    <i>Life and Times of Archbishop Carroll</i>. DeCourcy and
-    Shea's <i>Catholic Church in the United States</i>, etc.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The student of Catholic history may be permitted to recall, with
-an honorable pride, the illustrious name and recount the eminent
-public services of Colonel Thomas Dongan, who, while the only
-Catholic, was one of the most able and accomplished, of the
-colonial governors of New York. His life and exploits are but
-little known, even among Catholics; and while his merits place
-him without a superior in the honored list of our governors, it
-yet remains, for the Catholic historian especially, to rescue his
-fame from obscurity, and to weave together, from scattered
-historical fragments, the story of a career at once brilliant and
-useful, checkered and romantic. As soldier, ruler, exile,
-nobleman, or Christian gentleman, he is equally entitled to a
-distinguished place among the remarkable men of his age. His
-position was a most difficult and delicate one&mdash;a Catholic ruler
-over Protestant subjects, at a time when religious rivalries and
-animosities formed the mainspring of public and private political
-action. It is no small achievement that, in so trying an office,
-he acquitted himself to the satisfaction of friend and foe; and
-that Protestant and Catholic historians unite in commending his
-wise and honorable course. As a patriot, he has won our national
-gratitude; for it is to his courage and address that we are
-indebted for the invaluable service of having extended the
-northern frontier of our republic to the great lakes. His
-devotion to civil and religious liberty places his name with that
-of Calvert, in the hearts of Catholics; while both should be
-hallowed together by all lovers of free government.
-</p>
-<p>
-The subject of this memoir was descended from a noble and ancient
-Irish family, distinguished for an energy of character and
-enterprising spirit which he did not allow to expire with his
-ancestors. His father was Sir John Dongan, baronet, of
-Castletoun, in the county of Kildare, Ireland. He was also nephew
-to Richard Talbot, Earl of Tyrconnel, who figured conspicuously
-in the reign of Charles II., as he did in that of James II. This
-Earl of Tyrconnel, uncle to Governor Dongan, was one of those
-against whom Titus Oates informed. He was made
-lieutenant-governor of Ireland, and afterward lord deputy, on the
-recall of Clarendon, by James II.; and he aimed at rendering
-Ireland independent of England, in the event of the Prince of
-Orange succeeding in his efforts to gain the throne. In
-furtherance of his patriotic designs, Earl Tyrconnel solicited of
-James permission to hold an Irish parliament; but that monarch,
-suspecting his purpose, rejected the measure.
-</p>
-<p>
-Thomas Dongan was born in 1634; and, after being well-grounded in
-his religion, and in secular learning, was trained to the
-profession of a soldier. He entered the military service of
-France, and served as colonel of a French regiment, under Louis
-XIV.[Footnote 188]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 188: We find his name rendered in French documents
-    as <i>Colonel D'Unguent</i>.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_768">{768}</a></span>
-<p>
-His services there were so highly prized that it was with great
-difficulty and at considerable sacrifice that he was able to
-withdraw from it. In 1677-8, after the English parliament had
-forced Charles II. to break with Louis XIV., an order was issued
-commanding all British subjects in the service of France to
-return home. Colonel Dongan obeyed the order of his own
-sovereign; and he himself informs us that he was obliged to quit
-"that honorable and advantageous post, and resisted the
-temptations of greater preferment, then offered him, if he would
-continue there; for which reason the French king commanded him to
-quit France in forty-eight hours, and refused to pay him a debt
-of sixty-five thousand livres, then due him for recruits and
-arrears, upon an account stated by the intendant of Nancy." No
-subsequent efforts of Colonel Dongan succeeded in appeasing the
-French king's resentment, or in securing the payment of his
-claim.
-</p>
-<p>
-On his return from the French service to England, he was
-appointed, by Charles II., a general officer in the English army,
-then destined for Flanders, and had an annual pension of £500
-settled on him for life, in consideration of his losses in
-France. But it is regarded as quite certain that he did not go to
-Flanders under this appointment, to defend and support the
-English garrisons in that country, then menaced by the French;
-for, in the same year, he was appointed lieutenant-governor of
-Tangier, a position which he accepted, and continued to fill
-until the year 1680.
-</p>
-<p>
-At this time, the American province of New York was under the
-proprietary government of James, Duke of York, whose deputy's
-administration of the affairs of the colony had produced great
-discontent among the people. His governor, Andros, had been
-recalled to answer the charges of the people; had returned to New
-York, acquitted by the duke, and resumed the imposition of the
-heavy system of taxation which had weighed so heavily on the
-citizens, and produced such discontent. But the resistance of the
-people, not stopping short even of calling in question the
-supreme authority of the duke, seconded by the remonstrances of
-William Penn, finally had the desired effect. Andros was
-recalled, and Colonel Dongan appointed to succeed him as governor
-of New York. His commission from the Duke of York, bearing date
-September 30th, 1682, contains the following appointing clause:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "And whereas, I have conceived a good opinion of the integrity,
-  prudence, ability and fittness of Coll. Thomas Dongan, to be
-  employed as my Lieutent there, I have therefore thought fitt to
-  constitute and appoint him ye said Coll. Thos to be my Lt and
-  Govr within ye lands, islands, places aforesaid (except the
-  said East and West New Jersey) to performe & execute all and
-  every the powers wch are by the said lettrs pattents granted
-  unto me to be executed by me, my Deputy, Agent or Assignes."
-</p>
-<p>
-The written instructions received by the new governor from the
-Duke of York, bearing date January 27th, 1683, direct him: First,
-to call together the council of the duke, consisting of
-Fredericke Phillipps, Stephen Courtland, and other eminent
-inhabitants, not exceeding ten councillors. Second, and most
-important of all, to issue warrants to the sheriffs of the
-counties for an election of a general assembly of all the
-freeholders of the province, to pass laws "for the good weale and
-government of the said Colony and its Dependencyes, and of all
-inhabitants thereof."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_769">{769}</a></span>
-The assembly was not to exceed eighteen members, and was to
-assemble in the city of New York. Third, to give or withhold his
-assent to such laws as the general assembly might pass, as he
-might approve or disapprove of the same, etc. Fourth, the laws so
-passed to be permanent. Fifth, "And I doe hereby require and
-command you yt noe man's life, member, freehold, or goods, be
-taken away or harmed in any of the places undr yor government but
-by established and knowne laws not repugnant to, but as nigh as
-may be agreable to the laws of the kingdome of England." Sixth,
-to repress "drunkennesse and debauchery, swearing and blasphemy,"
-and to appoint none to office who may be given to such vices; and
-to encourage commerce and merchants. Seventh, to exercise general
-discretionary powers, except that of declaring war, without the
-duke's consent. The eighth relates to assessment of the estates
-of persons capable of serving as jurors. Ninth, to establish
-courts of justice, and to sell the royal lands. Tenth, to pardon
-offences. Eleventh, to erect custom-houses and other public
-buildings. Twelfth, to organize the militia. Thirteenth, to
-settle the boundaries of the province. Fourteenth, to encourage
-planters, and to lay no tax on commerce, except according to
-established laws. Fifteenth, to purchase Indian lands. Sixteenth
-relates to the granting of a liberal charter to the city of New
-York. Seventeenth, to send reports, by every ship, of the
-progress of the colony, and to regulate internal trade; and
-eighteenth, to devote his life, time, etc., to the faithful
-discharge of his duties.
-</p>
-<p>
-The admirable document of which the foregoing is a brief
-synopsis, containing as it does the general principles of all
-good government, was, no doubt, designed to meet the former evils
-complained of by the people of New York. That the influence of
-Colonel Dongan, during the eight months or so that he remained in
-England between his appointment and departure for New York, was
-wholesomely exerted in impressing a liberal and enlightened
-character upon the policy and instructions of the home
-government, cannot be doubted. No one was better fitted by
-experience, good judgment, and inclination, for such a task. The
-document itself, the most just and liberal that ever emanated
-from an English sovereign, goes far to vindicate the name and
-character of James II.
-</p>
-<p>
-The new governor arrived at New York on the 25th of August, 1683,
-and entered upon the duties of his office&mdash;duties rendered more
-delicate and embarrassing by the excitement through which the
-community had just passed, the high and extravagant expectations
-built upon a new appointment, made with the view of remedying old
-complaints, and by the fact that he himself was a professed and
-zealous Catholic, while the community whose destinies he was
-commissioned to guide were almost without exception Protestants,
-and peculiarly inclined, at that time, to look with distrust and
-hatred upon all "Papists." That such was the case, we are told by
-all the historians of the state and city; but that, by his
-address, good government, and enlightened policy, Governor Dongan
-soon removed this difficulty, we have the same authority for
-asserting. Smith says of him, "He was a man of integrity,
-moderation, and genteel manners, and, though a professed papist,
-may be classed among the best of our governors;" and adds "that
-he surpassed all his predecessors in a due attention to our
-affairs with the Indians, by whom he was highly esteemed."
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_770">{770}</a></span>
-Valentine writes, that "he was a Roman Catholic in his religious
-tenets, which was the occasion of much remark on the part of the
-Protestant inhabitants of the colony. His personal character was
-in other respects not objectionable to the people, and he is
-described as a man of integrity, moderation, and genteel manners,
-and as being among the best of the governors who had been placed
-in charge of this province." And Booth also writes of him, "He
-was of the Roman Catholic faith, a fact which rendered him, at
-first, obnoxious to many; but his firm and judicious policy, his
-steadfast integrity, and his pleasing and courteous address, soon
-won the affections of the people, and made him one of the most
-popular of the royal governors." Colden, in his history of the
-Five Nations, calls him an "honest gentleman," and "an active and
-prudent governor."
-</p>
-<p>
-The governor at once organized his council, which, as well from
-necessity as from prudent policy, was composed of gentlemen of
-the Dutch Reformed and English churches. Regarding his functions
-as purely civil, he did not, in the government of the colonists,
-who were Protestants, advance his views upon subjects not
-connected with civil government offensively before them, as they
-feared he would do. He might have induced over from the old
-country members of his own church to form his council; but
-neither duty nor prudence recommended this measure. Catholics,
-however, were no longer excluded from office, nor from the
-practice of their religion. The governor had a chapel, in which
-himself, his suite, his servants, and all the Catholics of the
-province, could attend divine service according to their own
-creed. A Jesuit father, who accompanied him from England, was his
-chaplain.
-</p>
-<p>
-He proceeded at once, according to his instructions, to issue his
-warrants for the election of a general assembly. This was an
-auspicious beginning of his administration, as it was a
-concession from the Duke of York for which the people had long
-struggled. This illustrious body, consisting of the governor, ten
-councillors, and seventeen representatives elected by the people,
-assembled in the city of New York, on the 17th of October, 1683.
-As he was the first, so he was the most liberal and friendly
-royal governor, that presided over the popular legislatures of
-New York; and the contests between arbitrary power and popular
-rights, which distinguished the administration of future
-governors, down to the Revolution, did not have their origin
-under his administration. The first act of the general assembly
-was the framing of a charter of liberties&mdash;the first guaranty of
-popular government in the province; and Governor Dongan, as he
-was the first governor to sign the charter of civil and religious
-liberty in New York, was, not many years afterward, the first
-citizen persecuted for his religion after its adoption. This
-noble charter ordained,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "That supreme legislative power should for ever reside in the
-  governor, council, and people, met in general assembly; that
-  every freeholder and freeman might vote for representatives
-  without restraint; that no freeman should suffer but by the
-  judgment of his peers, and that all trials should be by a jury
-  of twelve men; that no tax should be assessed, on any pretext
-  whatever, but by the consent of the assembly; that no seaman or
-  soldier should be quartered on the inhabitants against their
-  will; that no martial law should exist; that no person,
-  professing faith in God, by Jesus Christ, should, at any time,
-  be in any way disquieted or questioned for any difference of
-  opinion in matters of religion."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_771">{771}</a></span>
-<p>
-It was provided that the general assemblies were to convene at
-least triennially; new police regulations were established;
-Sunday laws were enacted; tavern-keepers were prohibited from
-selling liquor except to travellers; children were prohibited
-from playing in the street, citizens from working, and Indians
-and negroes from assembling, on the Sabbath; twenty cartmen were
-licensed, on condition that they should repair the highways
-gratis, when called on by the mayor, and cart the dirt from the
-streets beyond the limits of the city. The inhabitants were
-required to sweep the dirt of the streets together every Saturday
-afternoon, preparatory to its removal by the cartmen. On the 8th
-of December, 1683, the city was divided into six wards, each of
-which was entitled to elect an alderman and councilman annually,
-to represent them in the government of the city. The appointment
-of the mayor was reserved to the governor and council, and was
-not made elective by the people until after the American
-Revolution.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1685, on the death of Charles, the Duke of York succeeded to
-the English crown, under the title of James II. Governor Dongan,
-by special orders from the home government, proclaimed King James
-throughout the province. Indian and French disturbances having
-ceased, all was now quiet along the northern frontier, and the
-governor, skilfully availing himself of the opportunity, caused
-the king's arms to be put upon all the Indian castles along the
-Great Lake, and they, he writes to Secretary Blathwayt, submitted
-willingly to the king's government. In 1686, Governor Dongan
-received a new commission, bearing date on the 10th of June of
-that year. This was a very different document from his first
-commission, and manifests the change in favor of arbitrary power
-which took place in the sentiments and policy of James on his
-accession to the throne. The general assembly was abolished and
-the legislative power was vested in the governor and council,
-subject to the approval of the king; they were also authorized to
-proclaim and enforce martial law, to impose taxes, etc. It has
-been erroneously stated by one of our historians that James, in
-this document, instructed Governor Dongan "to favor the
-introduction of the Roman Catholic religion into the province&mdash;a
-course of policy which the governor, himself a Catholic, was
-reluctant to adopt;" whereas, the only provision therein relating
-to religion is in these words:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "And wee doe, by these presents, will, require, and command you
-  to take all possible care for the Discountenance of Vice and
-  encouragement of Virtue and good-living, that by such example
-  the Infidels may bee invited and desired to partake of the
-  Christian Religion."
-</p>
-<p>
-According to this commission, the general assembly was dissolved
-on the 6th of August, 1685, and no other was convened during the
-reign of James. Notwithstanding this radical change in the
-organic law of the province, the mild, liberal, and judicious
-administration of the governor caused the exercise of arbitrary
-power to be but lightly felt by the people.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1686, Governor Dongan signalized his administration by
-granting, in the name and by the authority of the king, the
-celebrated charter of the city of New York known as the <i>Dongan
-Charter</i>, bearing date the 22d of April of that year. This
-document constitutes to this day the basis and foundation of the
-municipal laws, rights, privileges, public property, and
-franchises of the city. It was confirmed and renewed by Governor
-Montgomery, on the 15th day of January, 1730, in the reign of
-George II.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_772">{772}</a></span>
-This charter was granted on the petition of the mayor and common
-council of the city of New York, addressed "To the Right
-Honorable Colln. Dongan, Esqr., Lieutennant & Governor & Vice
-Admirall under his Royall Highness, James Duke of York and
-Albany, &amp;c., of New York and Dependencyes in America." In this
-petition are recited the ancient privileges and incorporation of
-the city, and especially the fact that the whole island of
-Manhattan had been made a part of the corporation, and all the
-inhabitants thereof were subject to the government of the city;
-and praying a re-grant and confirmation of the same, and of all
-their ancient rights and privileges. The charter itself confirms
-all the ancient franchises and grants to the city, and confers
-many new ones upon it; it grants to the city the waste or
-unappropriated lands on the island, and concedes the right of
-local or municipal legislation, the ferries, markets, docks,
-etc., and covers thoroughly the whole ground of municipal
-government. It would seem, from an endorsement made on the
-petition in the office of the home government, by the secretary
-through whose hands it passed, that the new charter should be
-granted on the express condition that the old charter be
-surrendered; "otherwise, they may keep all their Old Priviledges
-by virtue of that, and take ye additions by this new one, without
-Subjecting their Officers, &amp;c., to the approbation &amp; Refusall,
-&amp;c., of ye governors."
-</p>
-<p>
-Among other public measures and acts of Governor Dongan may be
-mentioned, that he proposed to the home government the
-establishment of post-offices, or "post-houses," as they were
-called, all along the Atlantic coast within the English
-dominions, and the establishment of a mint. French Protestants,
-resorting to the colony for trade or business of any kind, were
-not to be molested. The fort was supported for one year at his
-private expense, during the insufficiency of the public revenue
-under Collector Santen. He obtained a release from the Ranseleers
-to the lands in Albany, and then granted a charter to that town;
-and he endeavored to bring about the union of New Jersey and
-Connecticut, under one and the same government with New York, as
-a measure of public safety and strength. In 1686, the governor's
-salary was raised from £400 to £600 per annum. The governor's
-residence was at the fort, and there was attached to the office
-the products or rents of a farm, called, at various times, the
-governor's, duke's, or king's farm, and of another smaller piece
-of land, called the queen's garden, which were subsequently
-granted to and remain to this day the property of the corporation
-of Trinity Church. It may also be mentioned, as an evidence of
-Governor Dongan's popularity, that there is to be found, in a
-list of the titles of acts passed by the general assembly in
-1684, the following title, "A Bill for a present to the
-Governor."
-</p>
-<p>
-We are told by the historians that "considerable improvements
-were made in the city in Governor Dongan's time." [Footnote 189]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 189: Valentine.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The city wall, erected in 1653, on the present line of Wall
-street, which derived its name from this circumstance, ran
-through the farm of Jan Jansen Damen; and from Broadway to Pearl
-street, the lands north of the wall were, in Governor Dongan's
-time, in possession of Damen's heirs, who were now induced to
-part with the same, so that the wall was removed and these
-valuable lots brought at once into the market, and were soon
-improved.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_773">{773}</a></span>
-Afterward, Governor Dongan determined still further to enlarge
-the city, to demolish the old fortifications, which were in a
-state of decay, and to erect new defences further out. Wall
-street was laid out on the site of the old city wall. "The street
-was afterwards favored by the erection of the city hall on the
-site of the present custom-house, and of Trinity Church, facing
-its westerly extremity, and soon became one of principal streets
-of the city." In 1687, a new street was laid out between
-Whitehall street and Old Slip, and the corporation sold the lots
-on condition that the purchasers should build the street out
-toward the water and protect it against the washing of the tide.
-These improvements were not carried into effect until several
-years afterward. This is the present Water street. In the second
-year of Governor Dongan's administration, 1684, the vessels of
-New York consisted of three barques, three brigantines,
-twenty-six sloops, and forty-six open boats; facts which convey
-some notion of the commerce and prosperity of New York at that
-time.
-</p>
-<p>
-Governor Dongan manifested great activity and energy in the
-conduct of public affairs. His report on the condition of the
-colony is a document replete with intelligence, vigor, and
-practical experience, and shows that no part of the colony,
-however remote, escaped his attention and care; and no branch of
-the public service was neglected by him. Mr. Santen, the
-collector of the port, became a defaulter to the amount of £3000,
-and was the occasion of great embarrassment and loss to Governor
-Dongan, who, however, on his part, acted promptly in the
-premises, by seizing the books of the delinquent official,
-causing him to be arrested and brought before the council for
-trial, and, on his proving refractory, sending him to England.
-While in England, the displaced collector preferred charges
-against Governor Dongan, who defended himself in that able and
-conclusive document, or report, on the condition of the colony,
-addressed to the lords of the home government, to which allusion
-has just been made. The following extract will show how
-characteristically he defended himself against one of Mr.
-Santen's charges:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "To the Tenth: Concerning my Covetousness, as hee is pleased to
-  term it. Here, (if Mr. Santen speaks true, in saying I have
-  been covetous,) it was in the management of this small Revenue
-  to the best advantage, and had Mr. Santen been as just as I
-  have been careful, the King had not been in debt, and I had
-  more in my pocket than now I have."
-</p>
-<p>
-This document also shows how active Governor Dongan was to secure
-the beaver and other Indian trade for the province; his zeal
-would not stop short of confining the French to the other side of
-the great lakes, and William Penn and his people south of a line
-drawn from a point on the Delaware "to the falls in the
-Susquehanna." [Footnote 190]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 190: Wyalusing Falls, Bradford County,
-    Pennsylvania.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The report is also full of valuable suggestions on the future as
-well as the past and present government of the province, and
-contains valuable statistics relating to the courts of justice,
-the public revenues, trade and commerce, population, the Indians,
-shipping, agriculture, and every other public interest.
-</p>
-<p>
-Governor Dongan distinguished his administration in an especial
-manner by his attention to the relations and interests of the
-province connected with the Indian tribes within and adjoining
-it; and he is admitted by historians to have surpassed all his
-predecessors in this department of public affairs, and to have
-been held in the greatest esteem by the Indians themselves.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_774">{774}</a></span>
-While seeking their alliance, their trade, and their submission
-to his government, he ever treated them with frankness,
-generosity, and true friendship. The grateful savages always
-addressed him by the friendly name of "Corlear;" [Footnote 191]
-"and the name of 'Dongan, the white father,' was remembered in
-the Indian lodges long after it had grown indifferent to his
-countrymen at Manhattan." His master-stroke of Indian policy was
-in gaining the alliance of the Five Nations, securing their
-submission to the English government in preference to that of
-France, and carrying our northern frontier to the great lakes.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 191: This was the name of one of the old Dutch
-    inhabitants, who had conferred a great boon upon the Indians,
-    and by his timely intervention saved a large number of them
-    from a contemplated massacre in one of their wars. Whenever
-    afterward they wished to address a person in terms of strong
-    attachment and confidence, they called him "<i>Corlear</i>."]
-</p>
-<p>
-The Five Nations were a confederacy of the five most powerful
-Indian tribes of the north: the Mohawks, the Oneidas, the
-Onondagas, the Cayugas, and the Senecas. They were usually
-called, by the French, by the name of "Iroquois." Their
-confederation dates back beyond the limits of their history, as
-known to the white race; and both, like that of other nations in
-their origin, are only known to us through dim traditions and
-fabulous exaggerations. They were united when the French came to
-Canada; for we are told, that, "when Champlain arrived in Canada,
-he found them united in a war against the Adirondacks, or
-Algonquins; and, as he settled in the country of the latter, he
-accompanied them in one of their hostile incursions, and, by the
-assistance of the French, a body of the Five Nations was
-defeated." They long felt a resentment for this act of hostility,
-although they received missionaries from the French, and, in a
-great measure, embraced the Christian faith. On the arrival of
-the Dutch, a trade sprang up between the inhabitants of New
-Amsterdam and the Indians of the Five Nations; and the latter, by
-exchanging their furs for fire-arms, became more powerful and
-more terrible to their enemies. It does not seem that the Dutch
-government laid any claim to their country, or to their
-allegiance; though Governor Dongan, in his controversy with the
-French, claimed that his pretensions were based upon a Dutch
-title. Their form of government was federal, like our own. Each
-nation had its own separate government, for the regulation of
-their local and individual affairs, and a general government in
-all things relating to their common interests. They were the most
-powerful, the most permanent, and the most capable Indian
-organization in America. Like the Romans, they incorporated the
-nations they conquered into the confederacy, with equal rights;
-or, if this were impracticable, they destroyed their enemies
-entirely. Such was their power that they exacted tribute from
-neighboring tribes. In 1715, the Tuscaroras of North Carolina
-were aggregated to the original confederacy, which was thereafter
-known by the name of the Six Nations.
-</p>
-<p>
-Governor Dongan soon perceived the importance of securing the
-friendship and alliance of these powerful and warlike tribes. The
-Dutch had made a treaty of peace with the Five Nations, which had
-never been openly broken; but as it was necessary to keep
-treaties with the Indians constantly renewed, in order to prevent
-them from being forgotten; and, as the Indians had considered
-themselves, on several occasions, slighted by the English
-governors, they had more than once invaded the territories of the
-latter.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_775">{775}</a></span>
-The French in Canada, as the first Europeans who had visited
-their country, claimed it and the allegiance of the tribes.
-French missionaries, men of heroic self-sacrifice and profound
-piety, were among them, preaching the Gospel, receiving their
-confessions of faith, offering up the Christian sacrifice in
-their midst, and doing all in their power to improve their
-temporal and spiritual condition. It was natural, it was probably
-necessary, that these pious missionaries should bring their
-flocks in contact with their own government; and, while their
-mission and holy office among the Indians were utterly divested
-of all political or worldly motives, they could not avoid being
-powerful instruments, with the French government, in securing the
-advancement of French interests among those nations. Governor
-Dongan, on the other hand, had by his kindness and frankness
-completely gained their confidence, and was succeeding well in
-cementing the relations between himself and the Five Nations. He
-soon discovered the presence of the French missionaries in their
-midst an obstacle to this policy; and, at the same time, as a
-Catholic, he felt a profound interest in their religious
-enlightenment, and in their adherence to the church of which he
-was himself a devoted member. To avoid the conflict which might
-arise between the duty he owed, on the one hand, to his church
-and his conscience, and, on the other, to his king, he resolved
-on the plan of insisting upon his claim to the allegiance of the
-Five Nations, claiming the country to the great lakes, and upon
-the withdrawal of the French missionaries, and the substitution
-of English Jesuit missionaries in their place. Though receiving
-little encouragement from the home government in these measures,
-Governor Dongan carried them so far into effect as to secure the
-withdrawal of the French missionaries from three of the Five
-Nations, and to obtain the services of English Jesuits at New
-York, destined for the Indian missions, in the place of French
-priests. Father Harrison arrived in New York in 1685, and Father
-Gage arrived there in 1686. But, in consequence of their
-ignorance of the Indian language, they were compelled to remain
-in the city while studying it and preparing for the mission. War,
-too, soon rendered the field of their missionary zeal and labor
-inaccessible to them, and the sequel of events shows that it was
-neither their own nor the good fortune of the Indians that they
-should ever reach it. A Catholic writer [Footnote 192] thus
-alludes to Governor Dongan's position on this, to him, delicate
-subject:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "There can be no doubt that Governor Dongan, on coming among
-  the New Yorkers, found that if the measures for converting the
-  Indians were to proceed, the political interests of his own
-  country required that English missionaries should take the
-  place of the French Jesuits, some of whom were incorporated
-  among the Five Nations. The historians of New York assert that
-  no previous governor had made himself so well acquainted with
-  Indian affairs, or conducted the intercourse between the
-  settlers and Indians with so much ability and regard to the
-  interests of the subjects of Great Britain; while, at the same
-  time, he was held in high esteem by the Indians themselves. And
-  it is mentioned, to his honor, by the same historians, who are
-  unsparing in their condemnation of his religion, that he did
-  not permit the identity of his faith with that of the Catholic
-  missionaries of France to prevent him from opposing their
-  residence among the Indian tribes in his province; their
-  influence being calculated to promote the interests and policy
-  of France, and weaken the authority of the English. But it was
-  loyalty to his own government, and a just regard for the
-  interests confided to him, and not indifference to the pious
-  work of Christianizing the Indians, that induced Governor
-  Dongan to oppose the missions of the French."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 192: Campbell's <i>Life and Times of Archbishop
-    Carroll</i>.]
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_776">{776}</a></span>
-<p>
-Another Catholic author [Footnote 193] thus writes on the same
-subject:
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 193: Shea's <i>Hist. Cath. Missions</i>.]
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The English colony of New York had now passed under the sway
-  of Colonel Dongan, one of the most enterprising and active
-  governors that ever controlled the destinies of any of the
-  English provinces. His short but vigorous administration showed
-  that he was not only thoroughly acquainted with the interests
-  of England, but able to carry them out. A Catholic, who had
-  served in the French armies, he was biassed neither by his
-  religion nor his former services in the duties of the station
-  now devolved upon him. &hellip; Claiming for England all the country
-  south of the great lakes, he it was who made them a boundary.
-  His first step was to extend the power of New York over the
-  five Iroquois cantons, and bind those warlike tribes to the
-  English interest. His next, to recall the Caughnawagas to their
-  ancient home, by promises of a new location on the plains of
-  Saratoga, where a church should be built for them, and an
-  English Jesuit stationed as their missionary. In this plan he
-  found his efforts thwarted by the missionaries, who, French by
-  birth and attachment, looked with suspicion on the growing
-  English influence in the cantons, as fatal to the missions
-  which had cost so much toil, and who relied little on Dongan's
-  fair words, and subsequent promise to replace them by English
-  members of their society."
-</p>
-<p>
-The same author, in another work, expresses his confidence in the
-sincerity of Governor Dongan's intentions and promises, and
-points to the three English Jesuits brought to New York by him,
-as proof of both. [Footnote 194]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 194: <i>New York Doc. Hist.</i> Letter of Mr. Shea,
-    iii. 110.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The French government of Canada was equally bent on reducing the
-Five Nations to subjection to the king of France. It required no
-serious pretexts to induce the French to carry their plans into
-effect by open war; and pretexts were not long wanting. The
-murder of a Seneca chief at Mackinaw; an attack by the Iroquois
-on a French post in Illinois; the seizure of a flotilla&mdash;fanned
-the embers of war into a flame, and the subjugation of the Five
-Nations seemed to be at hand. A large Canadian army was organized
-for this purpose. It is said by historians, and with probable
-truth, that the French king had remonstrated with James II.
-against Colonel Dongan's interference with the French missions,
-and that James had instructed his governor to desist from this
-policy; also, that James, on hearing of the designs of the
-Canadians on the Five Nations, supposing that these warlike and
-refractory tribes, either as subjects or enemies, would be always
-a thorn in the side of his province, while within its limits,
-ordered Colonel Dongan not to interfere with those designs. But
-Colonel Dongan entertained very different views on these
-subjects. Not only did he insist on replacing the French Jesuits
-with English members of the same society, but he also proposed,
-both to the home government and to the governors of Maryland and
-Virginia, that these two provinces should unite with New York in
-resisting the encroachments of the French. He also proposed to
-the home government a plan of emigration from Ireland to New
-York, and that one of his own nephews should be appointed to
-conduct and manage the enterprise. He wrote to the home
-government on this subject as follows:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "It will be very necessary to send over men to build those
-  forts [the proposed forts along the northern frontier.] &hellip; My
-  lord, there are people enough in Ireland, who had pretences to
-  estates there, and are of no advantage to the country, and may
-  live here very happy. I do not doubt, if his majesty think fit
-  to employ my nephew, he will bring over as many as the king
-  will find convenient to send, who will be no charge to his
-  majesty after they are landed."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_777">{777}</a></span>
-<p>
-Governor Dongan, notwithstanding his instructions to the
-contrary, "was far too honorable to see his allies, (the Five
-Nations,) murdered in cold blood, in obedience to the will of his
-superiors." He sent his messengers to warn the Iroquois of the
-impending danger, and invited them to meet him at Albany, to
-renew the old treaty of peace, which had been long ago made
-between them and the Dutch, and which had almost faded from the
-memories of the chiefs.
-</p>
-<p>
-Both met punctually at the appointed rendezvous; and Colonel
-Dongan made one of his most characteristic and effective speeches
-to them, in which he explained his claims upon them, demonstrated
-the hostility of the French and his own friendship for them, made
-promises of future aid, and proposed an alliance. The treaty here
-entered into "was long respected by both parties." The clouds of
-war now burst upon the Five Nations, but found them not
-unprepared. Two invasions of the French were repelled, and
-finally the invaders, weakened by sickness and unacquainted with
-the Indian modes of war, returned with scattered ranks to their
-own country, to await the terrible retaliation of an injured foe.
-The warriors of the Five Nations burst with fury on the Canadian
-settlements, "burning, ravaging, and slaying without mercy, until
-they had nearly exterminated the French from the territory. The
-war continued until, of all the French colonies, Quebec,
-Montreal, and Three Rivers alone remained, and the French
-dominion in America was almost annihilated; Governor Dongan
-remaining," says the historian, "a firm friend of the Indians
-during his administration, aiding them by his council, and doing
-them every good office in his power." [Footnote 195]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 195: Booth's <i>History of the City of New
-    York</i>.]
-</p>
-<p>
-By his bold and independent course, so much at variance with the
-views of his royal master, Governor Dongan incurred the
-displeasure of James II., who suspended him from his functions,
-and about April, 1688, the governor resigned his office. The
-functions of the office of governor then devolved upon the
-deputy-governor, Nicholson. Smith, the historian, says of
-Dongan's removal from the office which he had graced so well, and
-in which he had done so much for the good of his king and his
-fellow-citizens, that "he fell into the king's displeasure
-through his zeal for the true interest of the province."
-</p>
-<p>
-The voluminous correspondence between Governor Dongan and Mons.
-Denonville, governor of Canada, on the relations of the two rival
-English and French colonies, published in the <i>Colonial</i> and
-<i>Documentary</i> histories of New York, is replete with
-interest, as containing valuable information concerning the
-affairs of the day, and as fairly illustrating the character of
-our governor. Though frequently running into bitter personalities
-and irreconcilable conflict, the letters of these two officials
-were not devoid of personal courtesies and amenities. Thus, we
-see the French governor acting as a mediator with his sovereign
-in behalf of Governor Dongan, in order that he might recover his
-claim for services rendered in the French army; and we find
-Governor Dongan, at one time, regretting that distance prevented
-him from meeting and interchanging social civilities with his
-rival; and, at another, sending to the Canadian governor a
-present of oranges, which, he had heard, were a great rarity in
-Canada, and regretting that the messenger's want of "carriage"
-prevented him from sending more.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_778">{778}</a></span>
-<p>
-There was one point, however, upon which Governor Dongan was ever
-uncompromising; this was his determination to claim the great
-lakes as his boundary, and to submit to nothing short of this. He
-carried his point even in his own day; for the royal arms of
-England were emblazoned on the Indian castles along that border,
-English forts defended it, and the Five Nations recognized the
-king of England as their father. Though wars intervened, this
-boundary was afterward recognized, by solemn treaty, as the line
-dividing the English and French dominions in our day, the visitor
-to the great lakes, and the tourist at the falls of Niagara, sees
-the American flag floating where Governor Dongan planted its
-predecessor, the standard of our English ancestors. Then,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Proudly hath it floated
-     Through the battles of the sea,
-   When the red-cross flag o'er smoke-wreaths played
-     Like the lightning in its glee."
-                       <i>Hemans</i>.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Now,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "When Freedom from her mountain height
-     Unfurled her standard to the air,
-   She tore the azure robe of night,
-     And set her stars of glory there."
-                         <i>Drake</i>.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-After his retirement from office, Governor Dongan spent his time
-in New York and on Staten Island, in both of which places he had
-acquired some property, but resided mostly on his estate on
-Staten Island. He was offered the commission of a major-general
-in the British army, and the command of a regiment in the service
-of James II., all of which he declined to accept.
-</p>
-<p>
-From the time that James II. ascended the English throne,
-discontents began to arise among his Protestant subjects, on both
-sides of the ocean, at the transfer of power from the Protestants
-to the Catholics. The appointment of Governor Dongan, "a
-professed papist," was offensive at first to the people of the
-province of New York; but his upright administration, his
-devotion to the best interests of the colony, and his personal
-popularity, quelled all actual disturbance during his term of
-office. We have seen that, soon after his arrival, civil and
-religious liberty were guaranteed, and that he selected the
-council from members of the Dutch Reformed Church, in order to
-disarm all prejudices. He certainly was not disposed, however, to
-debar himself and his fellow-Catholic subjects from the enjoyment
-of that religious liberty which he had done so much to secure for
-others. He had been accompanied to New York, in 1683, by Father
-Thomas Harvey, S.J., who performed the divine services in the
-governor's chapel, in the fort, and attended to the spiritual
-wants of the governor, and of such Catholics as were in New York
-during his administration. Fathers Harrison and Gage were sent
-for, and arrived in New York afterward, with the view of
-superseding the French missionaries among the Indians. It does
-not appear that large numbers of Catholics emigrated to New York,
-during his administration, for his plan for encouraging
-emigration from Ireland was not carried into effect; yet it is
-reasonable to suppose that the number of Catholics increased
-somewhat under the favorable auspices of a Catholic governor.
-And, although Matthias Plowman, the successor to Mr. Santer, the
-late collector, was a Catholic, we do not find that Governor
-Dongan filled many of the public offices in his gift with
-Catholics. Mr. Nicholson, the deputy-governor, into whose hands
-Governor Dongan resigned his office, was not appointed by him,
-but was the deputy of Governor Andros, who had been appointed by
-the home government governor of New England and New York, and
-whose headquarters were at Boston; this Mr. Nicholson was said to
-have been "an adherent of the Catholic faith." Religious
-controversies ran high, however, during this period, and
-historians generally inform us that plots were formed by the
-Protestants, not only in England, under James, but also in the
-province of New York, under Governor Dongan.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_779">{779}</a></span>
-This seems probable from the readiness with which the people on
-both sides of the Atlantic rose on their Catholic rulers as soon
-as the opportunity presented itself. This opportunity was
-afforded not long after Governor Dongan's retirement from office,
-in 1689, on the invasion of England by William Prince of Orange,
-and the abdication and flight of James II. from England.
-</p>
-<p>
-The tone of public sentiment in New York in 1689 is thus
-described by Bishop Bayley, in his treatise on the <i>History of
-the Catholic Church on the Island of New York:</i>
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Smith, describing the disposition and temper of the
-  inhabitants of the colony at the time, shows that,
-  notwithstanding the personal popularity of the governor, the
-  increase of Catholics was looked upon with a suspicious eye. 'A
-  general disaffection,' he says,'to the government prevailed
-  among the people. Papists began to settle in the colony under
-  the smiles of the governor. The collector of the revenues and
-  several principal officers threw off the mask, and openly
-  avowed their attachment to the doctrines of Rome. A Latin
-  school was set up, and the teacher strongly suspected for a
-  Jesuit; in a word, the whole body of the people trembled for
-  the Protestant cause.' The news of the revolution in England,
-  and the subsequent proceedings under Leisler, probably caused
-  such Catholics as were in a situation to get away, to withdraw
-  at the same time with the governor. The documents connected
-  with Leisler's usurpation of authority, as published by
-  O'Callaghan in his <i>Documentary History of New York</i>, show
-  how studiously he appealed to the religious prejudices of the
-  people, in order to excite odium against the friends of the
-  late governor, and establish his own claims. The 'security of
-  the Protestant religion,' and the 'diabolical designs of the
-  wicked and cruel papists,' are made to ring their changes
-  through his various proclamations and letters. Depositions and
-  affidavits were published, in which it was sworn that
-  Lieutenant-Governor Nicholson had been several times seen
-  assisting at mass; that the papists on Staten Island 'did
-  threaten to cut the inhabitants' throats,' and to come and burn
-  the city; 'that M. De La Prearie had arms in his house for
-  fifty men; that eighty or a hundred men were coming from Boston
-  and other places, that were hunted away, (no doubt, not for
-  their goodness,) and that there were several of them Irish and
-  papists; that a good part of the soldiers that were in the fort
-  already were papists,' etc. Among other depositions, is one of
-  Andries and Jan Meyer, in which they declare that, 'being
-  delivered from a papist governor, Thomas Dongan, they thought
-  that the deputy-governor in the Fort would defend and establish
-  the true religion; but we found to the contrary. There was a
-  cry that all the images erected by Col. Thomas Dongan in the
-  fort would be broken down and taken away; but when we were
-  working in the fort with others, it was commanded, after the
-  departure of Sir Edmond Andros, by said Nicholson, to help the
-  priest, John Smith,' (supposed to be a name assumed for the
-  sake of safety by one of the Jesuit fathers of New York,) 'to
-  remove, for which we were very glad; but it was soon done,
-  because said removal was not far off, but in a better room in
-  the fort; and ordered to make all things ready for said priest,
-  according to his will, and perfectly, and to erect all things
-  as he ordered, from that time,'" etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Graham says of the state of public feeling prevailing at this
-time in New York, that
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "An outrageous dread of popery had invaded the minds of the
-  lower classes of the people, and not only diminished real and
-  substantial evils in their esteem, but nearly extinguished
-  common sense in their understandings, and common justice in
-  their sentiments."
-</p>
-<p>
-Deputy-Governor Nicholson took possession of the government in
-August, 1688. On the 24th of that month, Governor Andros issued a
-proclamation for a general thanksgiving throughout the English
-provinces for the birth of a prince, the son of King James, and
-heir to the English throne. But by the next mail news of quite a
-different character arrived: the invasion of England by the
-Prince of Orange, the flocking of the people to his standard, the
-abdication and flight of King James, and the proclamation of
-William and Mary as king and queen of England.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_780">{780}</a></span>
-Mr. Nicholson and his followers recognized the authority of
-William and Mary, and, claiming that the commissions issued under
-James II. still held good, proposed to exercised the functions of
-the public offices under them, until instructions should be
-received from the new government at home. They were supported by
-the more respectable and wealthy part of the citizens. But the
-popular party took the opposite ground, and contended that all
-the commissions were now invalid, and that the people should take
-the government into their own hands until the will of their
-present majesties should be heard from. They were led on by one
-Jacob Leisler, a successful merchant, but a bitter bigot and
-ambitious demagogue, and the leader of such as refused all social
-intercourse with Catholics. Leisler had been appointed as early
-as 1683, by Governor Dongan, commissioner of the Admiralty; but,
-while holding this office, he was deeply disaffected, and had
-previously gained some notoriety by his opposition to Rensselaer,
-an Episcopal minister and suspected papist, at Albany, who had
-been sent to the province by the Duke of York.
-</p>
-<p>
-The revolution commenced in New York by the refusal of Leisler
-and others to pay revenue and taxes to Mr. Plowman, the
-collector, because he was a Catholic. The people of Long Island
-deposed their magistrates and elected new ones, and despatched a
-large body of militia to New York, "to seize the fort, and keep
-off popery, French invasion, and slavery." The public money,
-amounting to £773 12s., had been deposited, for safe keeping, in
-the fort which was garrisoned by a few soldiers commanded by a
-Catholic ensign. In order to secure this treasure, the popular
-party assembled on the 2d of June, 1689, and seized the fort.
-Leisler, who had refused to lead them to attack, on hearing of
-its seizure, went, with forty-seven men, to the fort, was
-welcomed by the citizens, and acknowledged as their leader. At a
-meeting of the people, a so-called "Committee of Safety" was
-appointed for the immediate government of the province, and
-Leisler was appointed to the chief command. Then followed the
-reign of terror described by Smith, Graham, and other historians.
-Catholics were hunted down in every direction, and many
-Protestants, suspected of being "papists" at heart, were treated
-in the same manner. Orders were issued for the arrest of Governor
-Dongan&mdash;who, since his retirement from office, had been quietly
-residing on his estate at Staten Island&mdash;and all other Catholics,
-who were compelled to fly for safety. Governor Dongan and other
-Catholics took shelter on board of a vessel in the harbor, where
-they remained for weeks, during the height of the excitement. He
-probably was obliged to keep himself concealed. He fled to Rhode
-Island, and soon afterward returned to Staten Island; his
-servants were arrested, his personal effects&mdash;charged, in the
-frenzy of the hour, to embrace a number of arms&mdash;were seized at
-his mill on Staten Island; and all who pretended to hold
-commissions under him were ordered to be arrested. So effectually
-were the Catholics driven from the province that, in 1696, seven
-years afterward, on a census of Catholics, taken by the mayor of
-the city by order of Governor Fletcher, only nine names were
-returned, namely, Major Anthony Brockholes, William Douglass,
-John Cooley, Christiane Lawrence, Thomas Howarding, John
-Cavalier, John Patte, John Fenny, and Philip Cunningham.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_781">{781}</a></span>
-<p>
-Whether Governor Dongan returned to England, and again came out
-to the province after the excitement had abated, or remained
-concealed in the province or neighborhood, seems not to be clear.
-It is certain, however, that he was in New York in 1791 [sic]. It
-need only be added here that the "Charter of Liberties," passed
-in 1683, under a Catholic governor, was, with all other laws
-passed by the late general assembly, repealed by the Protestant
-assembly of New York, in 1691, and a so-called "Bill of Rights"
-passed, which expressly deprived Catholics of all their political
-and religious <i>rights</i>. In 1697 this "Bill of Rights" was
-repealed by King William, "probably as being too liberal," says
-Bishop Bayley; and, in 1700, an act was passed which recited that
-"Whereas, divers Jesuits, priests, and popish missionaries have,
-of late, come, and for some time have had this province, and
-others of his majesty's adjacent colonies, who, by their wicked
-and subtle insinuations, industriously labored to debauch,
-seduce, and withdraw the Indians from their due obedience to his
-most sacred majesty, and to excite and stir them up to sedition,
-rebellion, and open hostility against his majesty's priest, etc.,
-remaining in or coming into the province after November 1st,
-1700, should be "deemed and accounted an incendiary and disturber
-of the public peace and safety, and an enemy of the true
-Christian religion, and shall be adjudged to suffer <i>perpetual
-imprisonment</i>," that, in case of escape and capture, they
-should suffer <i>death</i>, and that harborers of priests should
-pay a fine of two hundred pounds, and stand three days in the
-pillory. If it is alleged that the law of 1691 was the result of
-high party excitement and public alarm, what excuse, it may be
-asked, is to be alleged for the more illiberal and persecuting
-law of 1700? It is but justice to James II., to point to the
-"Charter of Liberties" of 1683, passed with his own approbation,
-and at his suggestion, and then to the laws of 1691 and 1700,
-passed under William and Mary, and remark that, though the
-revolution gave the colonies William and Mary in the place of
-James, it also gave penal and odious laws, and a deceptive "Bill
-of Rights," in exchange for a "Charter of Liberties" that gave
-what its title professed to confer. In Maryland, too, whose
-Catholic founders proclaimed civil and religious liberty as the
-basis of their commonwealth, the same scenes, on a more extended
-scale, were at the same time being enacted; the persecutors in
-New York were in intimate correspondence with their co-laborers
-in Maryland and New England.
-</p>
-<p>
-In 1691, when Governor Dongan saw, from the passage of the "Bill
-of Rights," that Catholics were excluded from the benefits of
-government, and subjected to persecution, he returned to England.
-</p>
-<p>
-While he was governor of New York, in 1685, his brother William,
-who had, in 1661, been created Baron Dongan and Viscount Claine
-in the Irish peerage, was advanced to the earldom of Limerick,
-with remainder, on the failure of direct issue, to Colonel Thomas
-Dongan. On the breaking out of the revolution and the flight of
-James II., William, Earl of Limerick, adhered to that monarch,
-and followed him into France; whereupon his estates were
-forfeited, and granted to the Earl of Athlone, an adherent of
-William.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_782">{782}</a></span>
-This grant was confirmed by an act of the Irish parliament, but
-with a clause saving the right of Colonel Thomas Dongan. Colonel
-Dongan, on his return to England, made every effort to recover
-some portion of his brother's estates. His brother, the Earl of
-Limerick, died at St. Germain in 1698, whereupon Colonel Dongan
-was introduced to William III. as successor of the late Earl of
-Limerick, and the new earl did homage to the king for his
-earldom, and, according to the feudal custom, kissed the king's
-hand on succeeding to the rank. He was allowed by the government,
-about the same time, £2500, in tallies, in part payment for
-advances made by him for public purposes while governor of New
-York. His persevering efforts to recover the estates of his
-deceased brother so far finally succeeded as to induce the
-passage of an act of parliament for his relief, on the 25th of
-May, 1702. He subsequently offered himself for service in the
-American colonies, but it does not appear that he was ever in the
-service of the crown after his return to England. He died in
-London, on the 14th day of December, 1715, and was interred in
-the church-yard of St. Pancras, Middlesex. The inscription on his
-tombstone reads as follows:
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "The Right Honble Thomas Dongan,<br>
-        Earl of Limerick.<br>
-       Died December 14th,<br>
-      aged eighty-one years,<br>
-             1715.<br>
-      Requiescat in Pace. Amen."
-</p>
-<p>
-In addition to the encomiums passed upon him both by Catholic and
-Protestant historians, the following, from De Courcy and Shea's
-<i>Catholic Church in the United States</i>, is here inserted:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "This able governor was not long enough in office to realize
-  all his plans for the good of the colony, where he had
-  expended, for the public good, most of his private fortune. In
-  this, as in many other points, the Catholic Governor Dongan
-  forms a striking contrast with the mass of colonial rulers, who
-  sought their own profit at the expense of the countries
-  submitted to them. To Dongan, too, New York is indebted for the
-  convocation of the first legislative assembly, the colony
-  having been, till then, ruled and governed at the good pleasure
-  of the governor; and this readiness to admit the people to a
-  share in the government is a fact which the enemies of James
-  II. should not conceal in their estimate of that Catholic
-  monarch."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Moore gives us the following particulars in his note, cited
-among the authorities to this article:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "This nobleman died without issue. His estates in America were
-  settled chiefly on three nephews, John, Thomas, and Walter
-  Dongan. Lieutenant-Colonel Edward Vaughan Dongan, of the third
-  battalion of New Jersey Volunteers, who died of wounds received
-  in an attack on the British posts on Staten Island, in August,
-  1777, was son of the last-mentioned gentleman. John Charlton
-  Dongan, another collateral relative of the Earl of Limerick,
-  represented Richmond County in the New York Assembly, from 1786
-  to 1789. Representatives of this ancient family are still to be
-  found in New York."
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [NOTE.&mdash;The above article is condensed from a forthcoming work
-  of Mr. R. H. Clarke, to be entitled, <i>Lives of Eminent
-  Catholics of the United States</i>.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_783">{783}</a></span>
-<br>
-              <h2>Beethoven</h2>.
-<br>
-             <h3>His Warning.</h3>
-
-<p>
-Years passed on, and Beethoven continued to reside at Vienna with
-his two brothers, who had followed him thither, and took the
-charge of his domestic establishment, so as to leave him entirely
-at leisure for composition. His reputation had advanced gradually
-but surely, and he now stood high, if not highest, among living
-masters. The prediction was beginning to be accomplished.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-It was a mild evening in the latter part of September, and a
-large company was assembled at the charming villa of the Baron
-Raimond von Wetzlar, situated near Schönbrunn. They had been
-invited to be present at a musical contest between the celebrated
-Wolff and Beethoven. The part of Wolff was espoused with great
-enthusiasm by the baron; that of Beethoven by the Prince de
-Lichnowsky, and, as in all such matters, partisans swarmed on
-either side. The popular talk among the music-loving Viennese
-was, everywhere, discussion of the merits of the rival candidates
-for fame.
-</p>
-<p>
-Beethoven was walking in one of the avenues of the illuminated
-garden, accompanied by his pupil, Ferdinand Ries. The melancholy
-that marked the composer's temperament seemed, more than ever, to
-have the ascendency over him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I confess to you, Ferdinand," said he, apparently in
-continuation of some previous conversation, "I regret my
-engagement with Sonnleithner."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And yet you have written the opera?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have completed it, but not to my own satisfaction. And I shall
-object to its being produced first at Vienna."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why so? The Viennese are your friends."
-</p>
-<p>
-"For that very reason I will not appeal to their judgment; I want
-an impartial one. I distrust my genius for the opera."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How can that be possible?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is my intimacy with Salieri that has inclined me that way;
-nature did not suggest it; I can never feel at home there.
-Ferdinand, I am self-upbraided, and should be, were the applause
-of a thousand spectators sounding in my ears."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Nay," said the student, "the artist assumes too much who judges
-himself."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But I have not judged myself."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who, then, has dared to insinuate a doubt of your success?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Beethoven hesitated; his impressions, his convictions, would seem
-superstition to his companion, and he was not prepared to
-encounter either raillery or ridicule. Just then the host, with a
-party of the guests, met them, exclaiming that they had been
-everywhere sought; that the company was all assembled in the
-saloon, and every thing ready for the exhibition.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are bent on making a gladiator of me, dear baron," cried the
-composer, "in order that I may be mangled and torn to pieces, for
-the popular amusement, by your favorite Wolff."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_784">{784}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Heaven forbid I should prejudge either combatant!" cried Von
-Wetzlar. "The lists are open; the prize is not to be awarded by
-me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But your good wishes&mdash;your hopes&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! as to that, I must frankly own I prefer the good old school
-to your new-fangled conceits and innovations. But come&mdash;the
-audience waits."
-</p>
-<p>
-Each in turn, the two rivals played a piece composed by himself,
-accompanied by select performers. Then each improvised a short
-piece. The delight of the spectators was called forth in
-different ways. In the production of Wolff a sustained elevation,
-clearness, and brilliancy recalled the glories of Mozart's
-school, and moved the audience to repeated bursts of admiration.
-In that of Beethoven there was a startling boldness, an impetuous
-rush of emotions, a frequency of abrupt contrasts&mdash;and withal a
-certain wildness and mystery&mdash;that irresistibly enthralled the
-feelings, while it outraged, at the same time, their sense of
-musical propriety. There was little applause, but the deep
-silence, prolonged even after the notes had ceased, told how
-intensely all had been interested.
-</p>
-<p>
-The victory remained undecided. There was a clamor of eager
-voices among the spectators; but no one could collect the
-suffrages, nor determine which was the successful champion in the
-contest. The Prince Lichnowsky, however, stood up, and boldly
-claimed it for his favorite.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Nay," interrupted Beethoven, advancing, "my dear prince, there
-has been no contest." He offered his hand to his opponent. "We
-may still esteem each other, Wolff; we are not rivals. Our style
-is essentially different; I yield to you the palm of excellence
-in the qualities that distinguish you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are right, my friend," cried Wolff; "henceforth let there be
-no more talk of championship between us. I will hold him for my
-enemy who ventures to compare me with you&mdash;you so superior in the
-path you have chosen. It is a higher path than mine&mdash;an original
-one; I follow contentedly in the course marked out by others."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But our paths lead to the same goal," replied Beethoven. "We
-will speed each other with good wishes; and embrace cordially
-when we meet <i>there</i> at last."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was an unusual solemnity in the composer's last words, and
-it put an end to the discussion. All responded warmly to his
-sentiment. But amidst the general murmur of approbation, one
-voice was heard that seemed strangely to startle Beethoven. His
-face grew pale, then flushed deeply; and the next moment he
-pressed his way hastily through the crowd, and seized by the arm
-a retreating figure.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You shall see me in Vienna," whispered the stranger in his ear.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yet a word with you. You shall not escape me thus."
-</p>
-<p>
-"<i>Auf wiedersehen!</i>" And shaking off the grasp, the stranger
-disappeared.
-</p>
-<p>
-No one had observed his entrance; the host knew him not, and
-though most of the company remarked the composer's singular
-emotion, none could inform him whither the unbidden guest had
-gone. Beethoven remained abstracted during the rest of the
-evening.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_785">{785}</a></span>
-<p>
-The opera of <i>Leonore</i> was represented at Prague; it met
-with but indifferent success. At Vienna, however, it commanded
-unbounded applause. Several alterations had been made in it; the
-composer had written a new overture, and the <i>finale</i> of the
-first act; he had suppressed a duo and trio of some importance,
-and made other improvements and retrenchments. Not small was his
-triumph at the favorable decision of the Viennese public. A new
-turn seemed to be given to his mind; he revolved thoughts of
-future conquests over the same portion of the realm of art; he no
-longer questioned his own spirit. It was a crisis in the artist's
-life, and might have resulted in his choice of a different career
-from that in which he has won undying fame.
-</p>
-<p>
-Beethoven sat alone in his study; there was a light knock at the
-door. He replied with a careless "come in," without looking up
-from his work. He was engaged in revising the last scenes of his
-opera.
-</p>
-<p>
-The visitor walked to the table and stood there a few minutes
-unobserved. Probably the artist mistook him for one of his
-brothers; but, on looking up, he started with indescribable
-surprise. The unknown friend of his youth stood beside him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"So you have kept your word," said the composer, when he had
-recovered from his first astonishment; "and now, I pray you, sit
-down, and tell me with whom I have the honor of having formed
-acquaintance in so remarkable a manner."
-</p>
-<p>
-"My name is of no importance, as it may or may not prove known to
-you," replied the stranger. "I am your good genius, if my counsel
-does you good; if not, I would prefer to take an obscure place
-among your disappointed friends."
-</p>
-<p>
-There was a tone of grave rebuke in what his visitor said that
-perplexed and annoyed the artist. It struck him that there was
-affectation in this assumption of mystery, and he observed
-coldly,
-</p>
-<p>
-"I shall not attempt, of course, to deprive you of your
-<i>incognito</i>; but if you assume it for the sake of effect, I
-would merely give you to understand that I am not prone to listen
-to anonymous advice."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! that you would listen," said the stranger, sorrowfully
-shaking his head, "to the pleadings of your better nature!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"What do you mean?" demanded Beethoven, starting up.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ask your own heart. If that acquit you, I have nothing to say. I
-leave you, then, to the glories of your new career; to the
-popular applause&mdash;to your triumphs&mdash;to your remorse."
-</p>
-<p>
-The composer was silent a few moments, and appeared agitated. At
-last he said, "I know not your reasons for this mystery; but
-whatever they may be, I will honor them. I entreat you to speak
-frankly. You do not approve my present undertaking?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Frankly, I do not. Your genius lies not this way," and he raised
-some of the leaves of the opera music.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How know you that?" asked the artist, a little mortified. "You,
-perhaps, despise the opera?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not. I love it; I honor it; I honor the noble creations of
-those great masters who have excelled in it. But you, my friend,
-are beckoned to a higher and holier path."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How know you that?" repeated Beethoven, and this time his voice
-faltered.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Because I know you; because I know the aspirations of your
-genius; because I know the misgivings that pursue you in the
-midst of success; the self-reproach that you suffer to be stifled
-in the clamor of popular praise. Even now, in the midst of your
-triumph, you are haunted by the consciousness that you are not
-fulfilling the true mission of the artist."
-</p>
-<p>
-His piercing words were winged with truth itself. Beethoven
-buried his face in his hands.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_786">{786}</a></span>
-<p>
-"Woe to you," cried the unknown, "if you suppress, till they are
-wholly dead, your once earnest longings after the pure and the
-good! Woe to you, if, charmed by the syren song of vanity, you
-close your ears against the cry of a despairing world! Woe to
-you, if you resign unfulfilled the trust God committed to your
-hands, to sustain the weak and faltering soul, to give it
-strength to bear the ills of life, strength to battle against
-evil, to face the last enemy!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are right&mdash;you are right!" exclaimed Beethoven, clasping his
-hands.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I once predicted your elevation, your world-wide fame,"
-continued the stranger; "for I saw you sunk in despondency, and
-knew that your spirit must be aroused to bear up against trial.
-You now stand on the verge of a more dreadful abyss. You are in
-danger of making the gratification of your own pride, instead of
-the fulfilment of Heaven's will, the aim&mdash;the goal of your life's
-efforts."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh! never," cried the artist, with you to guide me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"We shall meet no more. I watched over you in boyhood; I have now
-come forth from retirement to give you my last warning;
-henceforth I shall observe your course in silence. And I shall
-not go unrewarded. I know too well the noble spirit that burns in
-your breast. You will&mdash;yes, you will fulfil your mission; your
-glory from this time shall rest on a basis of immortality. You
-shall be hailed the benefactor of humanity; and the spiritual joy
-you prepare for others shall return to you in full measure,
-pressed down and running over!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The artist's kindling features showed that he responded to the
-enthusiasm of his visitor; but he answered not.
-</p>
-<p>
-"And now, farewell. But remember, before you can accomplish this
-lofty mission, you must be baptized with a baptism of fire. The
-tones that are to agitate and stir up to revolution the powers of
-the human soul come not forth from an unruffled breast, but from
-the depths of a sorely wrung and tried spirit. You must steal the
-triple flame from heaven, and it will first consume the peace of
-your own being. Remember this&mdash;and droop not when the hour of
-trial comes! Farewell!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The stranger crossed his hands over Beethoven's head, as if
-mentally invoking a blessing&mdash;folded him in his embrace, and
-departed. The artist made no effort to follow him. Deep and
-bitter were the thoughts that moved within him; and he remained
-leaning his head on the table, in silent revery, or walking the
-room with rapid and irregular steps, for many hours. At length
-the struggle was over; pale but composed, he took up the sheets
-of his opera and threw them carelessly into his desk. His next
-work, <i>Christ in the Mount of Olives</i>, attested the high and
-firm resolve of his mind, sustained by its self-reliance, and
-independent of popular applause or disapprobation. His great
-symphonies, which carried the fame of the composer to its highest
-point, displayed the same triumph of religious principle.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-  The Last Hours Of Beethoven.
-</p>
-<p>
-Once more we find Beethoven, in the extreme decline of life. In
-one of the most obscure and narrow streets of Vienna, on the
-third floor of a gloomy-looking house, was now the abode of the
-gifted artist. For many weary and wasting years he had been the
-prey of a cruel malady, that defied the power of medicine for its
-cure, and had reduced him to a state of utter helplessness.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_787">{787}</a></span>
-His ears had long been closed to the music that owed its birth to
-his genius; it was long since he had heard the sound of a human
-voice. In the melancholy solitude to which he now condemned
-himself, he received visits from but few of his friends, and
-those at rare intervals. Society seemed a burden to him. Yet he
-persisted in his labors, and continued to compose,
-notwithstanding his deafness, those undying works which commanded
-for him the homage of Europe.
-</p>
-<p>
-Proofs of this feeling, and of the unforgotten affection of those
-who knew his worth, reached him in his retreat from time to time.
-Now it was a medal struck at Paris, and bearing his features; now
-it was a new piano, the gift of some amateurs in London; at
-another time, some honorary title decreed him by the authorities
-of Vienna, or a diploma of membership of some distinguished
-musical society. All these moved him not, for he had quite
-outlived his taste for the honors of man's bestowing. What could
-they&mdash;what could even the certainty that he had now immortal
-fame&mdash;do to soften the anguish of his malady, from which he
-looked alone to death as a relief?
-</p>
-<p>
-"They wrong me who call me stern or misanthropic," said he to his
-brother, who came in March, 1827, to pay him a visit. "God
-knoweth how I love my fellow-men! Has not my life been theirs?
-Have I not struggled with temptation, trial, and suffering from
-my boyhood till now, for their sakes? And now if I no longer
-mingle among them, is it not because my cruel infirmity unfits me
-for their companionship? When my fearful doom of separation from
-the rest of the human race is forced on my heart, do I not writhe
-with terrible agony, and wish that my end were come? And why,
-brother, have I lived, to drag out so wretched an existence? Why
-have I not succumbed ere now?
-</p>
-<p>
-"I will tell you, brother. A soft and gentle hand&mdash;it was that of
-art&mdash;held me back from the abyss. I could not quit the world
-before I had produced all&mdash;<i>had done all that I was appointed
-to do</i>. Has not such been the teaching of our holy church? I
-have learned through her precepts that patience is the handmaid
-of truth; I will go with her even to the footstool of the
-eternal."
-</p>
-<p>
-The servant of the house entered and gave Beethoven a large
-sealed package directed to himself. He opened it; it contained a
-magnificent collection of the works of Handel, with a few lines
-stating that it was a dying bequest to the composer from the
-Count de N&mdash;&mdash;. He it was who had been the unknown counsellor of
-Beethoven's youth and manhood; and the arrival of this posthumous
-present seemed to assure the artist that his own close of life
-was crowned with the approval of his friend. It was as if a
-<i>seal</i> had been set on that approbation, and the friendship
-of two noble spirits. It seemed like the dismissal of Beethoven
-from further toil.
-</p>
-<p>
-The old man stooped his face over the papers; tears fell upon
-them, and he breathed a silent prayer. After a few moments he
-arose, and said, somewhat wildly, "We have not walked to-day,
-Carl. Let us go forth. This confined air suffocates me."
-</p>
-<p>
-The wind was howling violently without; the rain beat in gusts
-against the windows; it was a bitter night. The brother wrote on
-a slip of paper, and handed it to Beethoven.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_788">{788}</a></span>
-<p>
-"A storm? Well, I have walked in many a storm, and I like it
-better than the biting melancholy that preys upon me here in my
-solitary room. Oh! how I loved the storm once; my spirit danced
-with joy when the winds blew fiercely, and the tall trees rocked,
-and the sea lashed itself into a fury. It was all music to me.
-Alas! there is no music now so loud that I can hear it.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you remember the last time I led the orchestra at Von &mdash;&mdash;'s?
-Ah! you were not there; but I heard&mdash;yes, by leaning my breast
-against the instrument. When some one asked me how I heard, I
-replied, '<i>J'etntends avec mes entraillies.</i>'"
-</p>
-<p>
-Disturbed by his nervous restlessness, the aged composer went to
-the window, and opened it with trembling hands. The wind blew
-aside his white locks, and cooled his feverish forehead.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have one fear," he said, turning to his brother and slightly
-shuddering, "that haunts me at times&mdash;the fear of poverty. Look
-at this meanly furnished room, that single lamp, my meagre fare;
-and yet all these cost money, and my little wealth is daily
-consumed. Think of the misery of an old man, helpless and deaf,
-without the means of subsistence!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Have you not your pension secure?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It depends upon the bounty of those who bestowed it; and the
-favor of princes is capricious. Then again, it was given on
-condition I remained in the territory of Austria, at the time the
-king of Westphalia offered me the place of chapel-master at
-Cassel. Alas! I cannot beat the restriction. I must travel,
-brother&mdash;I must leave this city."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You-leave Vienna?" exclaimed his brother in utter amazement,
-looking at the feeble old man whose limbs could scarcely bear him
-from one street to another. Then, recollecting himself, he wrote
-down his question.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why? Because I am restless and unhappy. I have no peace, Carl!
-Is it not the chafing of the unchained spirit that pants to be
-free, and to wander through God's limitless universe? Alas! she
-is built up in a wall of clay, and not a sound can penetrate her
-gloomy dungeon."
-</p>
-<p>
-Overcome by his feelings, the old man bowed his head on his
-brother's shoulder, and wept bitterly. Carl saw that the delirium
-that sometimes accompanied his paroxysms of illness had clouded
-his faculties.
-</p>
-<p>
-The malady increased. The sufferer's eyes were glazed; he grasped
-his brother's hand with a tremulous pressure.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Carl! Carl! I pardon you the evil you did me in childhood. Pray
-for me, brother!" cried the failing voice of the artist.
-</p>
-<p>
-His brother supported him to the sofa and called for assistance.
-In an hour or two, his friend and spiritual adviser, summoned in
-haste, had administered the last rites of the church, and
-neighbors and friends had gathered around the dying man. He
-seemed gradually sinking into insensibility.
-</p>
-<p>
-Suddenly he revived; a bright smile illumined his whole face; his
-sunken eyes sparkled.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I shall <i>hear</i> in heaven!" he murmured softly, and then
-sang in a low but distinct voice the lines from a hymn of his
-own:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Brüder! über'm Sternenzelt,
-   Muss ein lieber <i>Vater</i> wohnen."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-In the last faint tone of
-the music his gentle spirit passed away.
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus died Beethoven, a true artist, a good and generous man, a
-devout Catholic. Simple, frank, loyal to his principles, his life
-was spent in working out what he conceived his duty; and though
-his task was wrought in privation, in solitude, and distress,
-though happiness was not his lot in this world, doth there not
-remain for him an eternal reward?
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_789">{789}</a></span>
-<p>
-The Viennese gave him a magnificent funeral. More than thirty
-thousand persons attended. The first musicians of the city
-executed the celebrated funeral march composed by him, and placed
-in his heroic symphony; the most famous poets and artists were
-pall-bearers, or carried torches; Hummel, who had come from
-Weimar expressly to see him, placed a laurel crown upon his tomb.
-Prague, Berlin, and all the principal cities of Germany, paid
-honors to his memory, and solemnized with pomp the anniversary of
-his death. Such was the distinction heaped on the dust of him
-whose life had been one of suffering, and whose last years had
-been solitary, because he felt that his infirmities excluded him
-from human brotherhood.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-       <h2>The Assumption Of Our Lady.</h2>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  If sin be captive, grace must find release;
-    From curse of sin the innocent is free.
-  Tomb prison is for sinners that decease;
-    No tomb but throne to guiltless doth agree.
-  Though thralls of sin lie lingering in the grave,
-  Yet faultless corse with soul reward must have.
-
-  The dazzled eye doth dimmèd light require,
-    And dying sights repose in shrouding shades;
-  But eagles' eyes to brightest light aspire,
-    And living looks delight in lofty glades.
-  Faint-wingèd fowl by ground do faintly fly:
-  Our princely eagle mounts unto the sky.
-
-  Gem to her worth, spouse to her love ascends;
-    Prince to her throne, queen to her heavenly king;
-  Whose court with solemn pomp on her attends,
-    And choirs of saints with greeting notes do sing.
-  Earth rendereth up her undeservèd prey:
-  Heaven claims the right, and bears the prize away.
-
-			                    Southwell.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_790">{790}</a></span>
-<br>
-          <h2>The Conversion of Rome.</h2>
-		  <p class="center_close">
-          [Footnote 196]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 196:<br>
-    1. History of European Morals, from Augustus to Charlemagne.
-    By W. E. H. Lecky. London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1869. 2
-    vols. 8vo.<br>
-    2. History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit of
-    Rationalism in Europe. By the same. From the London edition.
-    New York: Appleton & Co., 1868. 2 vols. 8vo.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Two irreconcilable systems of morals have disputed the empire of
-the earliest times. The one is founded on the fact that God
-creates man; the other on the assumption that man is himself God,
-or, at least, a god unto himself. The first system finds its
-principle in the fact stated in the first verse of Genesis, "In
-the beginning God created heaven and earth;" the second finds its
-principle in the assurance of Satan to Eve, "Ye shall be as gods,
-knowing good and evil." The first system is that of the Biblical
-patriarchs, the synagogue, the Christian church, and all sound
-philosophy as well as of common sense&mdash;is the theological system,
-which places man in entire dependence on God as principle,
-medium, and end, and asserts as its basis in us, HUMILITY,
-"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of
-heaven." The other system is the gentile or pagan system, or that
-which prevailed with the Gentiles after their falling away from
-the patriarchal religion. It assumed, in its practical
-developments, two forms, the supremacy of the state and the
-supremacy of the individual; but in both was asserted the
-supremacy of man&mdash;or man as his own lawgiver, teacher, and
-master, his own beginning, middle, and end, and therefore, either
-individually or collectively, man's sufficiency for himself. Its
-principle or basis, then, is PRIDE.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky adopts, as we have shown in our former article, the
-pagan, or, more properly, the satanic system of morals, at least
-as to its principle, though in some few particulars he gives the
-superiority to Christian morals, particulars in which Christians
-advanced further than had advanced the best pagan school before
-the conversion of Rome, but in the same direction, on the same
-principle, and from the same starting-point. He nowhere accepts
-the Christian or theological principle, and rejects everywhere,
-with scorn, Christian asceticism, which, according to him, is
-based on a false principle&mdash;that of appeasing the anger of a
-malevolent God. He accepts Christianity only so far as reducible
-to the pagan principle.
-</p>
-<p>
-The only points in which Christian morals&mdash;for Christian dogmas,
-in his view, have no relation to morals, and are not to be
-counted&mdash;are a progress on pagan morals, are the assertion of the
-brotherhood of the race and the recognition of the emotional side
-of human nature. But even these two points, as he understands
-them, are not peculiar to Christianity. He shows that some of the
-later Stoics, at least, asserted the brotherhood of the race, or
-that nothing human is foreign to any one who is a man&mdash;that all
-good offices are due to all men; and whoever has studied Plato at
-all, knows that Platonism attached at least as much importance,
-and gave as large a scope to our emotional nature, as does
-Christianity. Christian morals have, then, really nothing
-peculiar, and are, in principle, no advance on paganism. The most
-that can be said is that Christianity gave to the brotherhood of
-the race more prominence than did paganism, and transformed the
-Platonic love, which was the love of the beautiful, into the love
-of humanity.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_791">{791}</a></span>
-This being all, we may well ask, How was it that Christianity was
-able to gain the victory over the pagan philosophers, and to
-convert the city of Rome and the Roman empire?
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky adopts the modern doctrine of progress, and he
-endeavors to prove from the historical analysis of the several
-pagan schools of moral philosophy, that the pagan world was
-gradually approaching the Christian ideal, and that when
-Christianity appeared at Rome it had all but attained it, so that
-the change was but slight, and, there being a favorable
-conjuncture of external circumstances, the change was easily
-effected. The philosophers of the empire had advanced from
-primitive fetichism to a pure and sublime monotheism; the
-mingling of men of all nations and all religions in Rome,
-consequent on the extension of the empire over the whole
-civilized world, had liberalized the views, weakened the narrow
-exclusiveness of former times, and gone far towards the
-obliteration of the distinction of nations, castes, and classes,
-and thus had, in a measure, prepared the world for the reception
-of a universal religion, based on the doctrine of the fraternity
-of the race and love of humanity.
-</p>
-<p>
-All this would be very well, if it were true; but it happens to
-be mainly false. The fact, as well as the idea of progress, in
-the moral order, is wholly foreign to the pagan world. No pagan
-nation ever exhibits the least sign of progress in the moral
-order, either under the relation of doctrine or that of practice.
-The history of every pagan people is the history of an almost
-continuous moral deterioration. The purest and best period, under
-a moral point of view, in the history of the Roman republic, was
-its earliest, and nothing can exceed the corruption of its morals
-and manners at its close. We may make the same remark of every
-non-Catholic nation in modern times. There is a far lower
-standard of morals reached or aimed at in Protestant nations
-to-day than was common at the epoch of the Reformation; and the
-moral corruption of our own country has increased in a greater
-ratio than have our wealth and numbers. We are hardly the same
-people that we were even thirty years ago; and the worst of it
-is, that the pagan system, whether under the ancient Greco-Roman
-form or under the modern Protestant form, has no recuperative
-energy, and the nation abandoned to it has no power of
-self-renovation. Pagan nations may advance, and no doubt, at
-times, have advanced, in the industrial order, in the mechanic
-arts, and in the fine arts, but in the moral, intellectual, and
-spiritual order, never.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky confines his history almost entirely to the moral
-doctrines of the philosophers; but even in these he shows no
-moral melioration in the later from the earlier, no progress
-towards Christian morals. In relation to specific duties of man
-to man, and of the citizen to the state, the Christian has,
-indeed, little fault to find with the <i>De Officiis</i> of
-Cicero; but we find even in him no approach to the Christian
-basis of morals. The Greeks never have any conception of either
-law or good, in the Christian sense. The
-<img class="txtimg" alt="[Greek text]" src="images/791a.jpg"> was only a
-rule or principle of harmony; it had its reason in the
-<img class="txtimg" alt="[Greek text]" src="images/791b.jpg">,
-or the beautiful, and could not bind the conscience. The
-Latins placed the end, or the reason and motive of the moral law,
-in the <i>honestum</i>, the proper, the decent, or decorous. The
-highest moral act was <i>virtus</i>, manliness,  and consisted in
-bravery or courage.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_792">{792}</a></span>
-The rule was, to be manly; the motive, self-respect. One must not
-be mean or cowardly, because it was unmanly, and would destroy
-one's self-respect. We have here pride, not humility; not the
-slightest approach to the Christian principle of morals, either
-to the rule or the motive of virtue as understood by the
-Christian church.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet Mr. Lecky tells us the moral doctrines of the philosophers
-were much superior to the practice of the people. He admits the
-people were far below the philosophers, and were very corrupt;
-but we see no evidence that he has any adequate conception of how
-corrupt they were. What the people were we can learn from the
-satirists, from the historians, Livy, Sallust, and Tacitus,
-especially from the <i>De Civitate Dei</i> of St. Augustine, and
-the writings of the early Greek and Latin fathers. Our author
-acknowledges not only that the philosophers were superior to the
-people, but also that they were impotent to effect their moral
-elevation or any moral amelioration of their condition. Nothing
-more true. How, then, if Christianity was based on the pagan
-principle of morals, was in the same order with paganism, and
-differed from it only in certain details, or, as the schoolmen
-say, certain accidents&mdash;how explain the amelioration of morals
-and manners which uniformly followed whenever and wherever it was
-received?
-</p>
-<p>
-If, as the author holds, Christianity was really only a
-development of the more advanced thought of the pagan empire, why
-did it not begin with the philosophers, the representatives of
-that advanced thought? Yet nothing is more certain than that it
-did not begin with them. The philosophers were the first to
-resist it, and the last to hold out against it. It spread at
-first among the people, chiefly among the slaves&mdash;that is, among
-those who knew the least of philosophy, who were least under the
-influence of the philosophers, and whose morals it is confessed
-the philosophers did not and could not elevate. This of itself
-refutes the pretence that Christianity was an offshoot of heathen
-philosophy. If it had been, and its power lay in the fact that
-the empire in its progress was prepared for it, its first
-converts should have been from the ranks of the more advanced
-classes. But the reverse was the fact. "You see your calling,
-brethren," says St. Paul to the Corinthians, "that not many are
-wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble; but
-the foolish things of the world hath God chosen, that he may
-confound the wise; and the weak things of the world hath God
-chosen, that he may confound the strong; and the mean things of
-the world, and the things that are contemptible, hath God chosen,
-and things that are not, that he might destroy the things that
-are; that no flesh should glory in his sight." [Footnote 197] So
-said the great teacher of the Gentiles, as if anticipating the
-objection of modern rationalists. Evidently, then, the pretended
-preparation of the Roman empire for Christianity must count for
-nothing, for Christianity gained its first establishments among
-those whom that preparation, even if it had been made, had not
-reached.
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 197: Cor. i. 26.]
-</p>
-<p>
-We cannot follow step by step the author in the special chapter
-which he devotes to the conversion of Rome, and the triumph of
-Christianity in the empire. We have already indicated the grounds
-on which he explains the marvellous fact.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_793">{793}</a></span>
-He denies all agency of miracles, will recognize no supernatural
-aid, and aims to explain it on natural principles or by natural
-causes alone. Thus far he has certainly failed; but let us try
-him on his own ground. We grant that the breaking down of the
-hundred nationalities and fusing so many distinct tribes and
-races into one people, under one supreme political authority, did
-in some sense prepare the way for the introduction of a universal
-religion. But it must be remembered that the fusion was not
-complete, and that the work of amalgamating and Romanizing the
-several nations placed by conquest under the authority of Rome
-was only commenced, when Christianity was first preached in the
-capital of the empire. Each conquered nation retained as yet its
-own distinctive religion, and to a great extent its own
-distinctive civilization. Gaul, Spain, and the East were Roman
-provinces, but not thoroughly Romanized, and it was not till
-after Christianity had gained a footing in the empire that
-provincials out of Italy were admitted to the rights and
-privileges of Roman citizenship. The law recognized the religion
-of the state, but it tolerated for every conquered nation its own
-national religion. There was as yet nothing in the political,
-social, or religious order of the empire to suggest a universal
-religion, or that opened the way for the introduction of a
-catholic as distinguished from a national religion. All the
-religions recognized and tolerated were national religions.
-Christianity was always catholic, for all nations, not for any
-particular nation alone. If, then, at a subsequent period, the
-boasted universality of the empire favored the diffusion of
-Christianity, it did not favor its introduction in the beginning.
-In all other respects there was, as we read history, no
-evangelical preparation in Rome or the Roman empire. The
-progress, if progress it may be called, of the Gentiles, had been
-away from the primitive religion reasserted by Christianity, and
-in a direction from, not towards, the great doctrines and
-principles of the Gospel. What of primitive tradition they had
-retained had become so corrupted, perverted, or travestied as to
-be hardly recognizable. They had changed, even with the
-philosophers, the true basis of morals, and the corrupt morals of
-the people were only the practical development of the principles
-adopted by even the best of the Gentile philosophers, as
-rationalism is only the development of principles adopted by the
-reformers, who detested it, and asserted exclusive
-supernaturalism. Even the monotheism of some pagan philosophers
-was not the Christian doctrine of one God, any more than simple
-theism&mdash;the softened name for deism&mdash;or even theophilanthropy is
-Christianity. The Christian God is not only one, but he is the
-creator of the world, of all things visible and invisible, the
-moral governor of the universe, and the remunerator of all who
-seek him. The God of Plato, or of any of the other philosophers,
-is no creative God, and the immortality of the soul that Plato
-and his master Socrates defended had hardly any analogy with the
-life and immortality brought to light through the Gospel. The
-Stoics, whom the author places in the front rank of pagan
-moralists, did not regard God as the creator of the world, and
-those among them who held that the soul survives the body,
-believed not in the resurrection of the flesh, nor in future
-rewards and punishments. Their motive to virtue was their own
-self-respect, and their study was to prove themselves independent
-of the flesh and its seductions, indifferent to pleasure or pain,
-serene and unalterable, through self-discipline, whatever the
-vicissitudes of life.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_794">{794}</a></span>
-The philosophers adopted the morality of pride, and aimed to live
-and act not as men dependent on their Creator, but as independent
-gods, while the people were sunk in the grossest ignorance and
-moral corruption, and subject to the most base and abominable
-superstitions. Such was the pagan empire when Christianity was
-first preached at Rome, only much worse than we venture to depict
-it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, to this Roman world, rotten to the core, the Christian
-preachers proclaimed a religion which arraigned its corruption,
-which contradicted its cherished ideas on every point, and
-substituted meekness for cruelty, and humility for pride, as the
-principle of morals. They had against them all the old
-superstitions and national religions of the empire, the religion
-of the state, associated with all its victories, supported by the
-whole power of the government, and by the habits, usages,
-traditions, and the whole political, military, social, and
-religious life of the Roman people. They could not move without
-stepping on something held sacred, or open their mouths without
-offending some god or some religious usage; for the national
-religion was interwoven with the simplest and most ordinary
-usages of private and social life. If a pagan sneezed, no
-Christian could be civil enough to say, "Jupiter help you," for
-that would recognize a false god. Yet the Christian missionaries
-did succeed in converting Rome and making it the capital of the
-Christian world, as it was, when they entered it, the capital of
-the heathen world. You tell me this mighty change was effected,
-circumstances favoring, by natural and human means! <i>Credat
-Judaeus Appelles, non ego</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-The cause of the success, after the preparation named, which
-turns out to have been no preparation at all, were, according to
-the author, principally the zeal, the enthusiasm, and the
-intolerance or exclusiveness of the Christians, the doctrines of
-the brotherhood of the race and of a future life, and their
-appeals to the emotional side of human nature. He does not think
-the conversion of Rome any thing remarkable. The philosophers had
-failed to regenerate society in the moral order, the old
-religions had lost their hold on men's convictions, the old
-superstitions were losing their terrors, and men felt and sighed
-for something better than any thing they had. In fact, minds were
-unsettled, and were ready for something new. This description,
-not very applicable to Rome at the period in question, is not
-inapplicable to the Protestant world at the present time.
-Protestants are no longer satisfied with the results, either
-dogmatic or moral, of the Reformation, and the thinking portion
-of them wish for something better than any thing they have; yet
-not, therefore, can we conclude that they can easily, or by any
-purely human means, be converted to the Catholic Church; for they
-have&mdash;with individual exceptions, indeed&mdash;not lost their
-confidence in the underlying principle of the Reformation, or
-opened their minds or hearts to the acknowledgment of the
-principle, either of Catholic dogma or of Catholic morals. It is
-not so much that they do not know or misconceive that principle,
-but they have a deep-rooted repugnance to it, detest it, abhor
-it, and cannot even hear it named with patience. So was it with
-the pagan Romans. The whole pagan world was based on a principle
-which the Christian preacher could not speak without
-contradicting.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_795">{795}</a></span>
-The Christian ideal was not only above, but antagonistic to the
-pagan ideal, and, consequently, the more zealous the Christian
-missionary, the more offensive he would prove himself. His
-intolerance or exclusiveness might help him whose faith was
-strong, yet little heeded in practice; but when faith itself was
-not only wanting but indignantly rejected, it could only excite
-anger or derision.
-</p>
-<p>
-The apostle had no <i>point d'appui</i> in the pagan traditions,
-and it was only rarely that he could find any thing in heathen
-authors, poets, or philosophers that he could press into his
-service. The pagan, no doubt, had natural reason, but it was so
-darkened by spiritual ignorance, so warped by superstition, and
-so abnormally developed by false principles, that it was almost
-impossible to find in it anything on which an argument for the
-truth could be based. The Gospel was not in the pagan order of
-thought, and the Christian apologists had to support it by
-appealing to a line of tradition which the Gentiles had not, or
-had only as corrupted, perverted, or travestied. The only
-traditions they could appeal to were those of the Hebrews, and
-they found it necessary, in some sort, to convert the pagans to
-Judaism, before they could convince them of the truth of the
-Gospel. This was any thing but easy to be done; for the Gentiles
-despised the Jews and their traditions, and the Jews themselves
-were the most bitter enemies of the Christians, had crucified the
-founder of Christianity, and rejected the Christian
-interpretation of their Scriptures.
-</p>
-<p>
-The doctrine of the brotherhood of the race taught by the church
-was something more than was taught by the philosophers, in fact,
-another doctrine; and, though it had something consoling to the
-poor, the oppressed, the enslaved, yet these are precisely the
-classes with whom old traditions linger the longest, and
-prejudices are the most inveterate and hardest to be overcome.
-They are the classes the most opposed to innovations, in the
-moral or spiritual order. The Protestant reformers proved this,
-and the peasantry were the last to accept the new gospel they
-preached, and rarely accepted it at all but through the influence
-or compulsion of their princes and nobles. We see, also, now, in
-Protestant countries, that, the peasantry having become
-Protestant, are far more difficult to convert than persons by
-birth or education belonging to the upper classes. Yet, it was
-precisely among the lower classes, or rather the slave class,
-that the Christian missionary had his greatest success; though
-the emancipation and equality he preached were spiritual only,
-not physical or social.
-</p>
-<p>
-The doctrine of future life the church taught was coupled with
-two other doctrines hard for pagans to receive. The mere
-continuance of the spirit after the death of the body was, in
-some form, no doubt, held by the whole pagan world, a few
-sceptics excepted; but the resurrection of the body, or that what
-had once ceased to live would live again, was a thing wholly
-foreign to the pagan mind. Plato never, to my recollection, once
-hints it, and could not with his general principles. He held the
-union of the soul with the body to be a fall, a degradation from
-its previous state, the loss of its liberty; regarded the body as
-the enemy of the soul, as its dungeon, and looked upon death as
-its liberation, as a restoration to its original freedom and joy
-in the bosom of the divinity. The pagans had, as far as I can
-discover, no belief in future rewards and punishment in the
-Christian sense.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_796">{796}</a></span>
-They believed in malevolent gods, who, if they failed to appease
-their wrath before dying, would torture them after death in
-Tartarus; but the idea that a God of love would doom the wicked
-to hell, as a punishment for their moral offences or sins, was as
-hard for them to believe as it is for Mr. Lecky himself. Yet
-Christianity taught it, and brought the whole empire to believe
-it. Christianity, while it delivered the pagans from the false
-terrors of superstition, replaced them by what to the pagan mind
-seemed even a still greater terror.
-</p>
-<p>
-In what the author says of appeals to the emotional side of our
-nature, he shows that he has studied paganism with more care and
-less prejudice than he has Christianity. The emotions, as such,
-have for the Christian no moral or religious value. The love the
-Gospel requires is not an emotional love, and Christian morals
-have little to do with the moral sentiment which Adam Smith
-asserted, or the benevolence which Hucheson held to be the
-principle of morality. There is no approach to the Christian
-principle in the fine-spun sentiment of Bernardine Saint-Pierre,
-Madame de Staël, or Chateaubriand. Sentimentalism, in any form,
-is wholly foreign to Christian morals and to Christian piety, and
-neither has probably a worse or a more dangerous enemy than the
-sentimentalism so rife in modern society, and which finds its way
-even into the writings of some Catholics. The sentiment of
-benevolence may be a <i>mobile</i>, but it is never the
-<i>motive</i> of Christian virtue. No doubt, one of the great
-causes of the success of Christianity was the inexhaustible
-charity of the early Christians, their love for one another,
-their respect for and tenderness to the poor, the forsaken, the
-oppressed, the afflicted, the suffering. But that charity had not
-its origin in our emotional nature, and though it may be attended
-by sentiment, is itself by no means a sentiment; for its reason
-and motive was the love of God, especially of God who had assumed
-our nature, and made himself man for man's sake, and died on the
-cross for man's redemption. The Christian sees God in every
-fellow-man who needs his assistance, or to whose wants he can
-minister. "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my
-brethren, ye have done it unto me." The Christian finds his Lord,
-the Beloved of his soul, wherever he finds one for whom Christ
-died, to whom he can be of service.
-</p>
-<p>
-This charity, this love, may be mimicked by the sentiment of
-benevolence, but it does not grow out of it, is not that
-sentiment developed or intensified; it depends on the great
-central mystery of Christianity, that of "the Word made flesh,"
-and can never be found where faith in the Incarnation is wanting,
-and faith is, always and everywhere, an intellectual act, not a
-sentimental affection. If it were a natural sentiment or emotion,
-why was it to be found among Christians alone? The heathen had
-all of nature that Christians have; they even recognized the
-natural brotherhood of the race, as does the author; how happens
-it, then, if Christianity is only a development of heathenism,
-and Christian charity is only a natural sentiment, that you find
-no trace of it in the pagan world? There is no effect without a
-cause, and there must have been something operating with
-Christians that was not to be found in paganism, and which is not
-included even in nature.
-</p>
-<p>
-The pagans, like modern Protestants, worshipped success, and
-regarded success as a mark of the approbation of the gods.
-Misfortune, ill-luck, failure was a proof of the divine
-displeasure. Cromwell and his Roundheads interpreted uniformly
-their victories over the royalists as an indisputable proof of
-the divine approval of their course.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_797">{797}</a></span>
-It never occurred to them that the Almighty might be using them
-to chastise the royalists for their abuse of his favors, or to
-execute vengeance on a party that had offended him, and that,
-when he had accomplished his purpose with them, he would break
-them as a potter's vessel, and cast them away. The heathen looked
-upon the poor, the needy, the enslaved, the infirm, the helpless,
-and the suffering, as under the malediction of the gods, and
-refused to offer them any aid or consolation. They left the poor
-to struggle and starve. They did not do even so much for them as
-to shut them up in prisons called poor-houses. They looked with
-haughty contempt on the poor and needy, and if they sometimes
-threw them a crust, it was from pride, not charity, without the
-least kindly sympathies with them. As with modern non-Catholics,
-poverty, with them, was regarded and treated as a misfortune or
-as a crime.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet the Christians looked upon the poor with love and respect.
-Poverty, in their eyes, was no misfortune, no crime, but really a
-blessing, as bringing them nearer to God, and giving to the
-Christian more abundant in this world's goods an opportunity to
-do good, and lay up treasures in heaven. The Christian counts
-what he gives to the poor and needy as so much treasure saved,
-and placed beyond the reach of thieves and robbers, or any of the
-vicissitudes of fortune. Whence this difference between the pagan
-and the Christian, we might say, between the Catholic and
-non-Catholic? It cannot come from the simple recognition of the
-natural brotherhood of the race, for the natural ties of race and
-of kindred fail to call forth a love so strong, so enduring, so
-self-forgetting as Christian charity. Indeed, Christian charity
-is decidedly above the forces of nature. The brotherhood that
-gives rise to it is not the brotherhood in Adam, but the closer
-brotherhood in Christ; not in generation, but in regeneration.
-Give, then, as large a part as you will to Christian charity, in
-the conversion of Rome, you still have offered no proof that the
-conversion was effected by natural causes, for that charity
-itself is supernatural, and not in the order of natural causes.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky wholly fails to adduce any natural causes adequate to
-the explanation of the conversion of Rome and the triumph of
-Christianity over paganism. He cannot do it, for this one
-sufficient reason, that paganism was impotent to reform itself,
-and yet it had all the natural causes working for it that
-Christianity had. The Christians had no more of nature than had
-the pagans, while all the natural advantages, power, wealth,
-institutions, human learning and science, the laws, habits,
-customs, and usages of the entire nation, or aggregation of
-nations, were against them. How, then, not only do by nature what
-the same nature in paganism could not do, or by nature alone
-triumph over nature clothed with so many advantages, and
-presenting so many obstacles? Why should nature be stronger, and
-so much stronger, in Christians than in Pagans, that a few
-illiterate fishermen from the lake of Genesareth, belonging by
-race to the despised nation of the Jews, could change not only
-the belief, but the moral life of the whole Roman people?
-Clearly, the Christians could not succeed without a power which
-paganism had not, and therefore not without a power that nature
-does not and cannot furnish.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_798">{798}</a></span>
-<p>
-The author denies the supernatural, and seeks to combat the
-argument we use by showing that several eastern superstitions,
-especially the worship of Isis, were introduced into Rome about
-the same time with Christianity, and gained no little currency,
-in spite of the imperial edicts against them. This is true, but
-there was no radical difference between those eastern
-superstitions and the state religion, and they demanded and
-effected no change of morals or manners. They were all in the
-order of the national religion, were based on the same principle,
-only they were a little more sensual and corrupt. Their temporary
-success required no other basis than Roman paganism itself
-furnished. And the edicts against their mysteries and orgies were
-seldom executed. It needs no supernatural principle to account
-for the rapid rise and spread of Methodism in a Protestant
-community, for it is itself only a form of Protestantism. But
-Christianity was not, and is not, in any sense, a form or
-development of paganism; in almost every particular, it is its
-direct contradictory. It was based on a totally different
-principle, and held entirely different maxims of life. A
-worshipper of Bacchus or Isis could without difficulty conform to
-the national or state religion, and comply with all its
-requirements. The Christian could conform in nothing, and comply
-with no pagan requirements. He could take no part in the national
-festivities, the national games, amusements, or rejoicings, for
-these were all dedicated to idols. There is no analogy in the
-case.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky denies that the conversion of Rome was a miracle, and
-that it was effected on the evidence of miracles. He admits that
-miracles are possible, though he confounds miracles with
-prodigies, and says there is five times more proof in the case of
-many miracles than would be required to prove an ordinary
-historical fact; but he rejects miracles, not for the want of
-proof, nor because science has disproved them, but because the
-more intelligent portion of mankind have gradually dropped them,
-and ceased to believe in them, as they have dropped the belief in
-fairies, dwarfs, etc. The enlightened portion of mankind, it must
-be understood, are those who think like Mr. Lecky, and profess a
-Christianity without Christ, moral obligation without God the
-creator, and hold effects are producible without causes. We
-confess that we are not of their number, and probably shall never
-be an enlightened man in their sense. We believe in miracles, and
-that miracles had not a little to do with the introduction and
-establishment of Christianity. As the author admits them to be
-possible, and that many are sustained by far greater proof than
-is needed to prove ordinary historical events, we hope that it
-will be allowed, that, in believing them, we are not necessarily
-involved in total darkness. But we have no space, at present, to
-enter upon the general question of miracles&mdash;a question that can
-not be properly treated without treating the whole question of
-the natural and the supernatural.
-</p>
-<p>
-The author tells us that the early Christians at Rome rarely
-appealed, if at all, to miracles as proofs either of their
-doctrines or their mission. Yet that they sometimes did would
-seem pretty certain from the pains the pagans took to break the
-force of the Christian miracles by ascribing them to magic, or by
-setting up analogous or counter miracles of their own. Certain it
-is, however, that they appealed to the supernatural, and adduced
-not only the miracle of the resurrection of our Lord, which
-entered into the very staple of their preaching, and was one of
-the bases of their faith, but to that standing miracle of
-prophecy, and of a supernatural providence&mdash;the Jewish, people.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_799">{799}</a></span>
-The very religion they preached was supernatural, from beginning
-to end, and they labored to prove the necessity of faith in
-Christ, who was crucified, who rose from the dead, and is Lord of
-heaven and earth. There is no particular miracle or prophecy
-adduced to prove this that cannot, indeed, be cavilled at; but
-the Hebrew traditions and the faith of the Jewish people could
-not be set aside. Here was a whole nation whose entire life
-through many thousand years had been based on a prophecy, a
-promise of the Messiah. This prophecy, frequently renewed, and
-borne witness to by the national organization, the religious
-institutions, sacrifices, and offerings, and the entire national
-and moral life through centuries, is a most stupendous miracle.
-When you take this in connection with the traditions preserved in
-the Hebrew Scriptures, which go back to the creation of the
-world&mdash;developing one uniform system of thought, one uniform
-doctrine, one uniform faith, free from all superstition; one
-uniform plan of divine providence, and throwing a marvellous
-light on the origin, duty, and end of man&mdash;you find a
-supernatural fact which is irresistible, and sufficient of itself
-to convince any unprejudiced mind that Christianity is the
-fulfilment of the promises made to Adam after his expulsion from
-the Garden, to the patriarchs, to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and
-to the Jewish people.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have no space here to develop this argument, but it is the
-argument that had great weight with ourselves personally, and, by
-the grace of God, was the chief argument that brought us to
-believe in the truth of Christianity, and in the church as the
-fulfilment of the synagogue. The apostles and early apologists
-continually, in one form or another, appeal to this standing
-miracle, this long-continued manifestation of the supernatural,
-as the basis of their proof of Christianity. They adduced older
-traditions than any the pagans could pretend to, and set forth a
-faith that had continued from the first man, which had once been
-the faith of all mankind, and from which the Gentiles had fallen
-away, and been plunged, in consequence, into the darkness of
-unbelief, and subjected to all the terrors of the vilest, most
-corrupt, and abominable superstitions. They labored to show that
-the Gentiles, in the pride of their hearts, had forsaken the God
-that made them, creator of heaven and earth, and all things
-therein, visible or invisible, for Satan, for demons, and for
-gods made with their own hands, or fashioned by their own lusts
-and evil imaginations. They pursued, indeed, the same line of
-argument that Catholics pursue against Protestants, only modified
-by the fact that the Protestant falling away, so clearly foretold
-by St. Paul in his Epistles, is more recent, less complete, and
-Protestants have not yet sunk so low as had the Gentiles of the
-Roman empire.
-</p>
-<p>
-But it was not enough to establish the truth of Christianity in
-the Roman mind. Christian morals are above the strength of nature
-alone; yet the pagans were not only induced to give up their own
-principle of morals, and to accept as true the Christian
-principle, but they gave up their old practices, and yielded a
-practical obedience to the Christian law. Those same Romans
-changed their manner of life, and attained to the very summits of
-Christian sanctity. The philosophers gave many noble precepts,
-preserved from a purer tradition than their own, but they had no
-power to get them practised, and our author himself says they had
-no influence on the people; yet they enjoined nothing above the
-forces of nature.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_800">{800}</a></span>
-The Christians came, taught the people a morality impracticable
-to nature even in its integrity, and yet what they taught was
-actually practised even by women, children, and slaves. How was
-this? It was not possible without supernatural aid, or the
-infusion of grace which elevates the soul above the level of
-nature, enabling it at once to act from a supernatural principle,
-and from a supernatural motive. All who have attempted the
-practise of Christian perfection by the strength of nature alone,
-have sadly failed. Take the charitable institutions, societies
-for relieving the poor, providing for the aged and infirm,
-protecting the fatherless and widows, for restoring the fallen,
-and reforming the vicious or criminal, established by
-non-Catholics&mdash;they are all comparative, if not absolute
-failures. Though modelled after institutions of the church, and
-supported at lavish expense, none of them succeed. They lack some
-essential element which is efficacious in Catholic institutions,
-and that element is undoubtedly supernatural grace, for that is
-all Catholics have that they have not in far greater abundance.
-They have humanity, natural benevolence, learning, ability, and
-ample wealth&mdash;why do they not succeed? Because they lack
-supernatural charity, and the blessing of God that always
-accompanies it. No other reasons can be assigned.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Lecky thinks the persecutions by the state, which the early
-Christians had to endure, or that the spread of Christianity in
-spite of them, are not worth anything in the argument. In the
-first place, he pretends that the persecutions were not very
-severe, and were for the most part confined to particular
-localities, and rarely became general in the empire; they were of
-brief duration, and came only at distant intervals, and the
-number of martyrs could not have been great. In the second place,
-the persecutions rather helped the persecuted religion, as
-persecution usually does. Rome, in reality, was tolerant, and
-most of the pagan emperors were averse to harsh measures, and
-connived at the growth of the new religion, which they regarded
-as one of the innumerable superstitions hatched in the East, and
-which must soon pass away.
-</p>
-<p>
-Rome tolerated for conquered nations their national religion, or
-worship, but no religion except the state religion for Romans.
-The national gods recognized by the senate, and whose images were
-allowed to stand by the side of the Roman gods, might be
-worshipped; but no Roman citizen was allowed to desert the state
-religion, and nowhere in the empire was any religion tolerated
-that was not the national worship of some people subject or
-tributary to Rome. Now, Christianity was no national religion,
-and was hostile to the state religion, and utterly irreconcilable
-with it; for it there was no toleration; it was prohibited by the
-laws of the empire as well as by the edicts of the emperors. The
-Christians might at first be overlooked as too insignificant to
-excite hostility, or they might have been regarded, since they
-were chiefly Jews, as a Jewish sect; they might also, as they
-were a quiet, peaceable people, obeying the laws when not
-repugnant to the law of God, performing all their moral, social,
-and civil duties, and never mingling in the affairs of state,
-have been connived at for a time. But they had no legal
-protection, and if complained of and brought before the
-tribunals, and proved to be Christians, they had no alternative
-but to conform to the national religion or suffer death, often in
-the most excruciating forms; for the Romans were adepts in
-cruelty, and took delight in watching the writhings and
-sufferings of their victims.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_801">{801}</a></span>
-Even Trajan, while he prohibited the search for them, ordered, if
-accused and convicted of being Christians, that they should be
-put to death. Such being the law, the prefect or governor of a
-province could at any time, without any imperial edict, put the
-law in force against the Christians, if so disposed; and that
-they did so in all the provinces of the empire, frequently and
-with unsparing severity, we know from history. The Christians
-were safe at no time and nowhere in the empire, and it is
-probable that the number of victims of the ten general
-persecutions were by far the smaller number of those who suffered
-for the faith prior to the accession of Constantine. We place no
-confidence in the calculations of Gibbon or our author, and we
-have found no reason for believing that the Christian historians,
-or the fathers, exaggerated the number of those who received the
-crown of martyrdom.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is a great mistake to suppose that paganism had lost its hold
-on the Roman mind till long after the Christians had become a
-numerous body in the empire. There were, no doubt, individuals
-who treated all religions with indifference, but never had the
-pagan superstitions a stronger hold on the mass of the people,
-especially in Rome and the western provinces, than during the
-first two centuries of our era. The republic had been transformed
-into the empire, and the government was never stronger, or the
-worship of the state more intolerant, more fervent, or more
-energetically supported by the government. The work of Romanizing
-the various conquered nations was effected under the emperors,
-and the signs of decline and dissolution of the empire did not
-appear till near the close of the third century. The Roman state
-and paganism seemed to be indissolubly linked together&mdash;so
-closely that the pagans attributed to the rise and progress of
-Christianity the decline and downfall of both. Certain it is,
-that paganism lost its hold on the people or the state only in
-proportion to the progress of Christianity; and the abandonment
-of the heathen gods and the desertion of the heathen temples were
-due to the preaching of the Gospel, not a fact which preceded and
-prepared the way for it. Converts are seldom made from the
-irreligious and indifferent classes, who are the last, in any
-age, to be reached or affected by truth and piety.
-</p>
-<p>
-The fact is, that paganism fought valiantly to the last, and
-Christianity had to meet and grapple with it in its full force,
-and when supported by the strongest and most effective government
-that ever existed, still in the prime and vigor of its life. The
-struggle was harder and longer continued than is commonly
-supposed, and by no means ended with Constantine. Paganism
-reascended the throne&mdash;in principle, at least&mdash;under Constantius,
-the son, and avowedly under Julian, the nephew of the first
-Christian emperor. Every pagan statesman saw, from the first,
-that there was an irrepressible antagonism between Christianity
-and paganism, and that the former could not prevail without
-destroying the latter, and, of course, the religion of the state,
-and apparently not without destroying the state with it. The
-intelligent and patriotic portion of the Roman people must have
-regarded the spread of Christianity very much as the Protestant
-leaders regard the spread of Catholicity in our own country. They
-looked upon it as a foreign religion, and anti-Roman.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_802">{802}</a></span>
-It rejected the gods of Rome, to whom the city was indebted for
-her victories and the empire of the world. We may be sure, then,
-that the whole force of the state, the whole force of the pagan
-worship, backed by the passions and fanaticism of the people,
-whether of the city or the provinces, was exerted to crush out
-the new and offensive worship; and, whether the numbers of
-martyrs were a few more or a few less, the victory obtained by
-Christianity against such fearful odds is not explicable without
-the assumption of supernatural aid&mdash;especially when that victory
-carried with it a complete change of morals and manners, and the
-practice in not a few who underwent it of a heroic sanctity, or
-virtues which are confessedly above our natural strength.
-</p>
-<p>
-No false or merely natural religion could have survived, far less
-have vanquished, such opposition as Christianity encountered at
-every point. The very fact that it thrived, in spite of the
-fearful persecution to which it was subjected, is a proof of its
-truth and divinity. We grant the blood of the martyrs was the
-seed of the church, but persecution fails only when it meets
-truth, when it meets God as the resisting force. We know the
-strength of superstition and the tenacity of fanaticism; but we
-deny that persecution has ever increased or multiplied the
-adherents or aided the growth of a false religion. There is no
-example of it in history. It is only the truth that does not
-succumb; and even they who profess the truth, when they have lost
-the practice of it, have yielded to the spirit of the world, and
-have ceased to be faithful to God, fail to stand before
-persecution, as was seen in the almost entire extinction of
-Catholics in the European nations that accepted the Protestant
-Reformation. The inefficacy of persecution to extinguish the
-doctrine persecuted is a commonplace of liberalism; but history
-proves the contrary, and hence the fact that Christianity,
-instead of being extinguished by the heathen persecution, spread
-under it, and even gained power by it, is no mean proof of its
-truth and its supernatural support.
-</p>
-<p>
-The author obtains his adverse conclusion by substituting for the
-Christianity to which Rome was actually converted, and which
-actually triumphed in the empire, a Christianity of his own
-manufacture, a rationalistic Christianity, which has nothing to
-do with Christ Jesus, and him crucified; a Christianity despoiled
-of its mysteries, its doctrinal teachings, its distinctive moral
-precepts, and reduced to a simple moral philosophy. It is with
-him a theory, a school; not a fact, not a law, not an authority,
-not a living organism, nor of an order essentially different from
-paganism. His Christianity has its starting point in paganism,
-and only marks a particular stage in the general progress of the
-race. He does not see that it and paganism start from entirely
-different principles, and come down through separate and hostile
-lines, or that they have different ancestors. He does not
-understand that Christianity, if a development at all, is not the
-development of paganism, but of the patriarchal and Jewish
-religion, which placed the principle of duty in man's relation to
-God as his creator and final cause, not in the assumption of
-man's own divinity or godship. Hence he finds no need of
-supernatural aid to secure its triumph.
-</p>
-<p>
-The author, placing Christianity in the same line with paganism,
-supposes that he accounts sufficiently for the conversion of Rome
-by the assumption that the Christians placed a stronger emphasis
-on certain doctrines held by the pagan philosophers, and were
-actuated by a greater zeal and enthusiasm than were those
-philosophers themselves.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_803">{803}</a></span>
-Yet he does not show the origin of the greater zeal, nor its
-character; and he entirely misapprehends the enthusiasm of the
-early Christians. They were, in no received sense of the word,
-enthusiasts, nor were they, in his sense of the word, even
-zealots. They in no sense corresponded to the character given
-them in <i>The Last Days of Pompeii</i>. They were neither
-enthusiasts nor fanatics; and their zeal, springing from true
-charity, was never obtrusive nor annoying. We find in the earlier
-and later sects enthusiasts, fanatics, and zealots, who are
-excessively offensive, and yet are able to carry away the simple,
-the ignorant, and the undisciplined; but we never find them among
-the early orthodox Christians, any more than you do among
-Catholics at the present day. The early Christians did not "creep
-into houses and lead away silly women," nor assault people in the
-streets or market-place, and seek to cram Christianity down their
-throats, whether they would or not, but were singularly sober,
-quiet, orderly, and regular in their proceedings, as Catholics
-have always been, compelling not people to hear them against
-their will, and instructing in the faith only those who
-manifested a desire to be instructed. The author entirely
-mistakes both the Christian order of thought and the character of
-the early Christians who suffered from and finally triumphed over
-the pagan empire.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-      <h3>Translated From The French.</h3>
-
-             <h2>Paganina.</h2>
-
-
-<p class="center">
-                I.
-</p>
-<p>
-Master Aloysius Swibert was an organist in a small Austrian town;
-but from afar his perfect knowledge of harmony, and freshness and
-delicacy of inspiration, were known and praised; and many a
-stranger artist, having heard him, wondered that he did not seek
-renown and even glory in larger cities, and saw with astonishment
-how his art and his simple friendships contented and ornamented a
-life requiring nothing more.
-</p>
-<p>
-He gave his time to the study of the great masters, a study full
-of pure enjoyment, but laborious and difficult, and, with a
-singular simplicity of character, he never approached them
-without the greatest reserve and respect.
-</p>
-<p>
-Obstinately he worked, allowing himself but little respite to
-indulge the flights of his fancy, or the inspiration which, now
-and then, came to him so luminously, so brightly that the brave
-artist cried out his thanks in ecstasy, in the fulness of his
-joy.
-</p>
-<p>
-His musical thoughts are all in a tiny volume. No long
-fantasies&mdash;half pages mostly&mdash;sometimes only lines, short and
-excellent and original; blessed originality, not coarse or
-confusing, but healthy and true&mdash;the daughter and messenger of
-inspiration!
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_804">{804}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                II.
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus rolled the weeks, returning ever the Sunday so ardently
-desired; for to Master Swibert each Sunday was an event. He
-thought of the one passed, and looked forward to the coming one;
-all were equally dear. From the Saturday evening previous, all
-things sang to him his feast-day songs, and the next morning,
-collected and serious, in his best clothes, he sought his church
-and his organ.
-</p>
-<p>
-He had his own ideas, considered extreme by some, on the ministry
-of the musician in the services of the church, on the respect due
-the place and the instrument. His heart beat when he approached
-the organ, and he played, following his conscience, sometimes
-well, sometimes better, never seeking success&mdash;on the contrary,
-dreading it.
-</p>
-<p>
-His work accomplished, he walked with his sister, serious and
-happy. The people loved to see them pass, and, from the doors of
-their houses, saluted them amicably. In return, they gave each a
-pleasant smile, and rejoiced that men and things should wear
-their holiday robes, their Sunday colors. If the trees were green
-and the weather fine, their happiness was complete. It made the
-good man sad, though, if men or children worked, or even planned
-their occupations. "Poor creatures!" he said, "is not even Sunday
-for them?" And his heart beat as he spoke. But when he met whole
-families enjoying themselves, the fathers important, the mothers
-busy and happy, and the children gay and prattling, he entered
-his lodging so happily, kissed his sister, and awaited his
-friends.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                III.
-</p>
-<p>
-He had but two&mdash;that is too many&mdash;and these could only remember
-having passed one Sunday evening away from Master Swibert. On
-their arrival, there were three just men under the same roof&mdash;one
-more than is necessary in order that our Lord may be in the midst
-of them.
-</p>
-<p>
-They supped, and the organist's sister, twelve years younger than
-he, a fresh and graceful girl, waited on his guests, and offered
-them some nice white cakes, prepared the day before. Each one
-paid her his heartfelt compliments, while, smiling and silent,
-with pleasure she received them.
-</p>
-<p>
-After supper, Master Swibert seated himself at his piano and
-played for his friends his studies of the past week. The music
-was mingled with conversation, and art and philosophy beguiled
-the hours. Seated around a good-sized pot of beer, with
-consciences at ease, with active bodies and cheerful spirits,
-these companions pursued endless conversations in all that
-interested their honest hearts until, as night closed round them,
-their souls were elevated and they spoke of heaven. There seemed
-to be a marvellous contact between their natures and all that is
-spiritual.
-</p>
-<p>
-Such was Master Swibert's interior on Sunday evenings. Could
-chance have led thither some growing youth, all ardor and
-enthusiasm, and had he essayed the eternal temptations of love
-and glory, his answer would have been a smile. There they had no
-place. The three friends were happy.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 IV.
-</p>
-<p>
-But in this world every thing passes, happiness especially. The
-day came when Master Swibert had to part from all he loved&mdash;his
-quiet habits, his home, and his country.
-</p>
-<p>
-He was tall, and looked strong and healthy; yet his friends were
-disquieted about him, for he seemed restless, like a tree which
-outwardly appears vigorous, but at heart decayed and liable to
-fall with the first rough wind. His physicians gave a reason for
-their uneasiness, and ordered him south.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_805">{805}</a></span>
-<p>
-The organist and his sister set out one day, hurrying their
-adieus as people who run away. When they were at the foot of the
-Alps in Italy, they stopped at a sunny little town, a day's
-journey from Milan, which we will call Arèse. Master Swibert was
-then forty-four.
-</p>
-<p>
-How this man, who, till now, had lived more like a priest than a
-man of the world, could be led by his passions to marry an
-Italian and a singer, is difficult to explain. Besides, it is
-superfluous to look for a reason for any unreasonable act.
-Perhaps the good old sun was the cause, laughing behind the trees
-at the follies of which he makes us guilty.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the girl was pretty, reputed good, and dedicated to her
-parents every moment her vanity did not require. So the organist
-married her.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                V.
-</p>
-<p>
-They say love lives by contrasts; the god of such a union should
-have been well fed. But his life was short, for, after a few
-months only, he died. Perhaps of a fit of indigestion.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Italian did not like the retired and exclusive life demanded
-of her, and the German could not accept the free behavior of his
-wife. He could not believe in the purity of a soul that sought
-vulgar homage and common admiration.
-</p>
-<p>
-He was wrong to judge her by the ideas of his own country. His
-name there had been so honorably borne that, if it was for the
-singer too heavy a burden, death only could release her. This
-death took place under peculiar circumstances.
-</p>
-<p>
-Paganini was just then being heard at Milan, and exercising that
-singular fascination that made his artistic personality the most
-characteristic of our time.
-</p>
-<p>
-This age, which believes in no thing, accords him a legend, and,
-in truth, his power with the instrument he used was surprising
-and unequalled.
-</p>
-<p>
-The fascination he possessed by his eccentric and well-executed
-performances is well known; how, for instance, he only appeared
-in a demi-obscurity, in some romantic scene; or, in some fit of
-inspiration, broke rudely the three strings of his instrument,
-and performed on the remaining one his most astonishing
-variations.
-</p>
-<p>
-Whether it was skill, or a want of genius, no matter; the effect
-produced was marvellous. On the wife of Master Swibert the result
-was astonishing. Her child was born before its time, and in one
-of the side-scenes of the theatre of La Scala.
-</p>
-<p>
-Its life seemed so feebly assured that it was baptized
-immediately with the name of Rose Marie; but Paganini, flattered
-by the adventure, insisting upon being godfather on the occasion,
-the little one was only known by the name of Paganina.
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus was born the singular artist whose history we relate. We
-know the exterior facts, the accidents, we may say, of her life.
-Popular imagination has made of them an interesting legend; but
-these facts were produced by interior emotions little understood,
-and would be perfectly unintelligible could we not trace in her
-the two tendencies, the two natures, which she inherited from her
-parents.
-</p>
-<p>
-Master Swibert arrived in time to say adieu to his wife, who did
-not survive her confinement. Then, as a miser with his treasure,
-he carried off his daughter. The child was feeble, but the
-organist felt within himself such an intensity of paternal love
-that he could not doubt she would live; "for," said he, "the
-vital forces of a creature are not wholly in itself, but in the
-love of its parents."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_806">{806}</a></span>
-<p>
-The sister of Master Swibert had married and left him. Therefore
-alone with his daughter, he entered an unoccupied house, where
-their new lives should develop themselves.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  VI.
-</p>
-<p>
-Happy the children born of Christian parents! They alone
-understand the integrity of affection that addresses itself to
-the soul, the delicacy of love which envelops the infant, from
-the bosom of its mother, conducting it through every danger, and,
-even in spite of maternal instinct, to the port of safety.
-</p>
-<p>
-The organist could put in practice no personal theories of
-education. He thought a father and mother (he was both) have but
-one thing to do&mdash;to love and love on, to watch on their knees
-near the cradle of their child, to observe attentively the
-movements of the soul in its dawning light, to direct it on high,
-always on high, guard it from all that is impure, (triviality,
-even, he considered so;) and so, in fine, enforce the impressions
-of a saintly and ideal character, before even the child has
-consciousness of its perceptions.
-</p>
-<p>
-Give your imagination to the interior of a family where such
-sentiments prevail; one sees marvellous things, that no painter
-can paint in colors true enough to render public. O pure and holy
-family joys! If we hesitate to describe you, it is from respect.
-We know with what discretion we should touch on holy things, and
-we hardly dare to make ourselves understood, to those who are
-fathers, by sketching the scenes of these first years of
-childhood between Master Swibert and his daughter.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 VII.
-</p>
-<p>
-Night has come; the child is going to sleep. Her father, pursuing
-his studies, is seated at the piano near the little being who has
-all his heart, and is now his inspiration; the waves of harmony
-go out into the night, white apparitions encircle the cradle,
-graze the earth, and fly away. The child sleeps.
-</p>
-<p>
-Attentive and listening, her angel looks at her, opening slightly
-its wings to better protect her, and throwing over her closed
-eye-lids the bluish and transparent veil. The little face smiles
-sweetly.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the morning she awakes, her soul filled with the joys of the
-night. She hears the birds sing, and the bright morning sun with
-heavenly rays gilds the cover of her little bed. She watches it
-play on her white curtains and turns toward her father, her eyes
-filled with tears, a weight on her heart. "Why do you weep, my
-daughter?" "Because, my father, I love you dearly, and I am too
-happy."
-</p>
-<p>
-Yes, well may we discuss the joys of childhood. To sing them,
-poets lose their breath; to paint them, exhaust the colors of
-their palettes; and heap image upon image as their heated fancies
-may suggest, yet what have they done? Nothing. Yet the subject is
-worth their study. And how is it that there are so many who have
-known these joys in all their purity, who in their manhood gaze
-on into the future, and so seldom look to that past which made
-them so happy? Would they not, at times, give worlds to be again
-that little child at its mother's knee?
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                VIII.
-</p>
-<p>
-Paganina was nearly seven years old, when she found a companion;
-the organist's sister died, leaving her only child to the care of
-her brother.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_807">{807}</a></span>
-<p>
-The little boy, named André, seemed to be of a gentle and even
-weak character. He was the same age as his cousin, but never was
-presented a more perfect contrast.
-</p>
-<p>
-Paganina had not yet acquired that marvellous beauty that
-afterward became so celebrated, but something there was about her
-very strange and very attractive.
-</p>
-<p>
-She was reticent and retiring, nonchalant in gesture and careless
-in behavior. Her face was always sad, an indescribable, almost
-ferocious <i>ennui</i> seeming completely to overpower her. But
-if some recital, some sudden expression touched her imagination,
-or music entranced her, her deep black eyes threw out a violet
-flame, and even sparkled. But that was all. The calm of an
-affected, scornful carelessness returned immediately.
-</p>
-<p>
-Restlessness is the common host of the domestic hearth.
-</p>
-<p>
-Master Swibert trembled to see the worldly and theatrical genius
-of the mother develop in the child; he knew well that, in a
-nature strong and deep as hers, such tastes would make terrible
-ravages. And the development of each successive year was not
-calculated to dispel his fears.
-</p>
-<p>
-Everything in the child alarmed him, from her habitual
-concentration to her fits of passionate tenderness&mdash;the outburst
-of the moment, volcano-like, a jet of brilliant flame which
-sparkles and goes out.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  IX.
-</p>
-<p>
-Master Swibert could boast in his dying hours of never having
-deserted the child for an hour even. After having devoted the
-early hours of the day to her and her cousin's education, he
-superintended and guided their recreations&mdash;an important part, in
-good hands, of the training of a child.
-</p>
-<p>
-He had the habit of taking every day a long walk. The route they
-loved best he called the German road. It was that by which the
-organist had come to Italy. The sight of it revived his memories,
-and flattered the melancholy love he gave his country.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the way, the children listened to the stories of the good
-musician, who so willingly related them. They spoke of Germany;
-for on this chapter Master Swibert never tired. He led his little
-auditors into the world of ballads and legends, and we can
-readily imagine the pretty curiosity and happy astonishment
-which, at their age, he awakened. Their favorite legend was that
-of the great emperor Barbarossa, who slept so many centuries in
-an obscure grotto, leaning on a table of stone into which his
-beard had grown. These stories were better than our nurses tell;
-for the organist related them, not to impose on the credulity of
-his youthful auditory, but to extract the poetry they contained;
-and this he did wonderfully. Poetry never did harm to any one.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the children loved, even better than the legends, the
-recitals suitable for them from the German poets. The story of
-Mignon delighted them. What could be told them sufficed; and they
-loved the little girl who had no other language than song, who
-took the face of an angel and aspired to heaven, where she went
-without scarcely having lived on earth.
-</p>
-<p>
-Their imagination was inflamed. They longed to see the country of
-their dreams. Sometimes, at the turn of the road, they began to
-run, in the unavowed hope of seeing, at last, what was behind the
-mountain; but, the circuit passed, and only a long road,
-apparently without end, presenting itself, the poor little things
-cried with disappointment.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_808">{808}</a></span>
-Their father, ready to weep with them, took them in his arms to
-control them, and told them for the hundredth time one of his
-pretty ballads.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                   X.
-</p>
-<p>
-The route into Germany is through a beautiful country. After
-traversing a plain for some distance, one enters into a deep
-gorge in the mountain and then begins to ascend.
-</p>
-<p>
-This gorge gives passage to a torrent, dry in summer, but,
-becoming furious during the rains of autumn, uproots trees,
-carries away bridges, and, undermining the stones at their base,
-lowers, each year, the level of the neighboring elevations. The
-route accommodates itself poorly to this terrible neighbor, and
-follows it as far off as possible. Around on the left shore, it
-turns quickly at a certain height, and crosses the torrent over a
-very high bridge. There, continuing to ascend, it makes a circuit
-over a plain of moderate extent, while a narrow and badly
-constructed road, bordering the sides of the ravine, leaves it to
-descend to the magnificent residence which, from time immemorial,
-belongs to the family of the Ligonieri. It is called the Château
-Sarrasin.
-</p>
-<p>
-A view unequalled presents itself from this elevation. Below it,
-on the first ladder of the heights, is seen the black mass of the
-chateau, so near that one can almost penetrate into the interior
-of the edifice; and beyond, the plain, displaying under the
-silvery net-work of its water-courses the richness of its
-vegetation; and finally, on the left, the wooded slopes of the
-mountain, crowned with glaciers, and developing into a gigantic
-hemicycle. When the dazzled eye is at rest, or gazing afar, it
-ever returns to the Chateau Sarrasin; and worthy is it of the
-closest regard.
-</p>
-<p>
-Its name indicates its antiquated pretensions; but it has no
-uniformity of style; each age has given it a stone, and from the
-labor of centuries has resulted a whole of a character grand and
-majestic.
-</p>
-<p>
-Proudly encamped on a perpendicular rock, accessible only on one
-side, it commands the plain and defies the mountain with its
-black and menacing tower, that seems to have been placed there to
-protect the other less hardy constructions.
-</p>
-<p>
-From the road, the traveller raises his eyes to this eagle's
-nest; he contemplates with pleasure the terraces which shelve
-below, suspending over the precipice their flowering groves and
-massive oaks, and, naturally, he demands its history. Yet this
-history was not always to be praised. The chronicle credits those
-who inhabited it in past ages with a series of adventures more
-curious than moral, and enough to fill a book of legends.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Ligonieri have followed the progress of civilization. In our
-day, they respect the laws, and even make themselves respected.
-They serve the state in the highest ranks of the administration,
-the army, and diplomacy. Yet it would seem that, after all, the
-devil has not lost much; for they tell wild stories of the
-castle's being fatal to conjugal love, of its reigning queens
-ever suffering in silence the affronts of some rival under its
-cursed roof. Popular recitals represent them isolated, lifting to
-heaven their innocent hands, and mingling their prayers with the
-noise of orgies and the songs of feasts. The favorites of the
-Chateau Sarrasin belonged mostly to the theatre, and among them
-was she who reigned a certain evening when the scene took place I
-am going to relate.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_809">{809}</a></span>
-<p class="center">
-                  XI.
-</p>
-<p>
-This evening, then, the organist and his two children had arrived
-on the elevation that commands the residence of the Ligonieri,
-and were looking about them. There was a <i>fête</i> at the
-Château Sarrasin.
-</p>
-<p>
-The grand <i>salon</i> of the ground floor was illuminated, and
-crowded with a brilliant assembly of guests. Long waves of light
-came from the windows and doors, and showed the crowd pressing
-around every opening, and in the shadows revealed groups seated
-attentively at cards.
-</p>
-<p>
-All heads were turned toward one point; all looks were in the
-same direction, and attached themselves to a woman standing in
-the centre of the light, and surrounded by a chorus and a
-numerous orchestra.
-</p>
-<p>
-This woman was clothed in green, and wore a crown of ivy, the
-ornament of the old bacchantes. A green diamond threw its
-lustrous rays from her impure forehead. She sang&mdash;not the songs
-that carry tired souls into the regions of the ideal, and make
-them forget for a moment the sadness of earth; but guilty joys
-and culpable pleasures were her theme. The metallic voice sang in
-response to her chorus; and, becoming more and more excited, the
-quick, passionate notes mounted into a demoniacal laugh. How sad,
-how true it is, that the human soul, once beyond the bounds of
-purity, rejoices in and receives new excitement from the delirium
-of blasphemy.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  XII.
-</p>
-<p>
-Attracted by the light, Paganina advanced toward the precipice.
-The passionate music had turned her brain. Her growing agitation
-became extreme, and she betrayed it in gestures and ardent words.
-When Master Swibert called her, she refused to obey.
-</p>
-<p>
-Understanding at last, her father rose, pale as a corpse.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Unfortunate child!" he cried, "thy bad angel is approaching
-thee. Now comes the hour when I regret thy birth. God grant that
-I may not be punished for having shown thee the spectacle of evil
-thou comprehendest so quickly."
-</p>
-<p>
-The child advances, her father follows, and she begins to run.
-Wildly through the midst of the rocks she risks her life at every
-step. Her father, breathless, pursues her, frightened, and
-covered with a cold perspiration. His eyes, grown large already
-with fear, see his daughter precipitated into an endless abyss;
-and discover, also, in the future another abyss still more
-shadowed and more horrible, where, perhaps, will be lost the
-deeply-loved soul of his child.
-</p>
-<p>
-The guests of the Château Sarrasin heard two cries mingle with
-the joyousness of their <i>féte</i>. The organist seized his
-child just at the moment when, from the edge of the precipice,
-she would have plunged into eternity.
-</p>
-<p>
-He had saved her life, but not regained her soul. That evening,
-the child separated herself from him in a spirit of revolt which
-almost broke his heart to witness.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 XIII.
-</p>
-<p>
-Master Swibert slept but little, and badly. When he awoke, he
-wondered how he had been able to omit to Paganina his usual
-good-night. His eyes fell instinctively on the door where, every
-morning, she came, half-clothed, to salute him. The sun's rays
-gilded the sill, and the good father's heart beat, thinking how
-happy he would be if at that moment she would appear. He said,
-"She is coming;" but she came not.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_810">{810}</a></span>
-<p>
-The organist walked up and down his room, interrupting, from time
-to time, his monotonous promenade, to listen, in hopes of hearing
-a word, a creaking, a fluttering of a robe. He heard nothing but
-the uncertain step of André, wandering sad and lonely in the
-parts of the house least occupied.
-</p>
-<p>
-The hours passed. The organist still waited, his suffering
-becoming anguish. Sometimes he felt he must call out, "My child!
-my child!" Already he opened his arms to receive her; but his
-sense of duty prevailed, and he waited for her.
-</p>
-<p>
-The night again returned, and Paganina had shown no signs of
-life. A bitter sadness, drop by drop, was accumulating in the
-heart of her unfortunate father. The most mournful thoughts took
-possession of him. He dreamed of his approaching death, and saw
-his child alone, abandoned to interior and exterior enemies, and
-in his weakness he reproached himself for having brought her into
-this world.
-</p>
-<p>
-Already more than half the night had gone. Overwhelmed with
-sorrow, exhausted, he threw himself into an arm-chair, wondering
-if he could bear to suffer more, when Paganina entered
-noiselessly, on tiptoe, lest she should awaken her father, whom
-she believed asleep. She approached him gently, knelt by his
-side, and, taking one of his hands, covered it with silent tears.
-</p>
-<p>
-What a change for our poor organist! An immense joy overflowed
-his heart, and spread over his whole being in delicious emotion.
-He forgot all past suffering and future inquietude. He lost all
-consciousness of the present but the knowledge that his daughter
-was there, pressed to his heart, and palpitating midst her sobs.
-</p>
-<p>
-He leaned over, and two tears, the first shed by this austere
-man, fell on the young bowed head&mdash;her baptism of peace and
-pardon. Grief, repentance, the love of the child, obscured for a
-time, now manifested themselves violently. She hung convulsively
-on the neck of her father, and begged his pardon. They exchanged
-kisses, stifled cries, and little words of tenderness, that are
-the first elements of that pure and passionate, delicate and
-violent language of the domestic hearth, so little capable of
-description.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  XIV.
-</p>
-<p>
-The stars sparkled peacefully in a cloudless sky. The breath of
-the night, with its penetrating odors, came noiselessly, and
-mingled the white hair of the father with the black curls of the
-child. It refreshed their burning foreheads.
-</p>
-<p>
-Peace has descended into their souls. Now and then a sob from
-Paganina is the only witness of the past storm.
-</p>
-<p>
-Master Swibert, with his head inclined, speaks in a low voice. He
-says:
-</p>
-<p>
-"My daughter, my tenderness for you knows no bounds. Trust to me.
-Arrived at the summit of life, I, whose head is whitening toward
-eternity, will tell you that, in this world, the only happiness
-given man is in the affections of his family. You cannot tell,
-before being a mother, what paternal affection is, and still less
-will you understand mine. I was ignorant of it myself until
-yesterday."
-</p>
-<p>
-The child standing, her little feet united, pressed her head
-against the heart of her father.
-</p>
-<p>
-The organist continued: "The angel of a woman never leaves the
-domestic hearth. If she lives in the world, her angel has
-forsaken her. A woman's crown is formed in shadow and silence;
-the gaze and admiration of a crowd will wither it. Your soul I
-love, my daughter; and our mutual love must never end. Do you
-understand me? Never! provided our souls rise together toward the
-abode of infinite love."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_811">{811}</a></span>
-<p>
-The child listens attentively; divining, by a sort of intuition,
-the sense of these teachings, engraving themselves, in letters of
-fire, on her heart; and which she will understand, each day, more
-and more.
-</p>
-<p>
-Little by little, lulled by the whispering of her father;
-refreshed, as if bathed in such admirable tenderness, she fell
-asleep. Her father held her in his arms, and, raising his eyes,
-he prayed.
-</p>
-<p>
-Day has come. The aurora awakes in its humid splendor, and throws
-its first rays over the mountain violets. The bells of the town
-dance into the air their clear and joyous notes.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My father," said Paganina in a low voice, and without opening
-her eyes, "what do those bells say? Their ringing sound makes me
-tremble with joy."
-</p>
-<p>
-"My daughter, they celebrate, as they may, the day of the
-Ascension, when Christ ascended into heaven."
-</p>
-<p>
-"To heaven! my father;" and she added, in so weak a voice that he
-could scarcely hear her, "It seems that I am there now&mdash;that I
-repose in your arms."
-</p>
-<p>
-The organist looked at his daughter, whose closed eyes seemed to
-enjoy interior contemplation; while his pale face expressed his
-delight. He raised her; held her up, as if to offer her to God;
-then laid her quietly on her little bed, and let her sleep.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  XV.
-</p>
-<p>
-From that day, the organist possessed perfect control over his
-daughter. If she seemed disposed to escape from his influence, he
-recalled the night of the Ascension, and that sufficed. Paganina
-was still a little girl; but soon she would cease to be one. Her
-future beauty was crystallizing. The features could be seen; but
-they had not yet blended into their after harmony. There was
-something surprising about her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Morally, the incomprehensible little creature was all dissonance
-and violent contrasts, promising to be equally powerful for good
-or evil, as she should be led by superior or inferior influences.
-</p>
-<p>
-The distinctive character of her nature, habitually concentrated
-and sometimes impetuous to excess, was her passion for every
-thing beautiful. Music exercised an extraordinary influence over
-her. It was, properly speaking, her language; and she understood
-in it what others could not. Already she spoke in it wonderfully.
-</p>
-<p>
-Her father taught her his instrument; and she gave herself with
-love to the study. However, it was easy to see that the demon of
-song would make her his; so Master Swibert hesitated to give her
-a master, restrained by his personal ideas on the subject. He had
-his theory, which appeared singular, no doubt, and he revealed it
-to his daughter, saying, "Too perfect an instrument is a snare
-for a musician; for when he has at his service an organ of this
-kind, he forgets too often to raise it to the ideal, and gives it
-to matter. Where are those who can disengage themselves from
-matter to arrive at an idea? Where are those who know that the
-beauty of the body is the shadow of the beauty of the soul? To
-pursue exclusively the first is to lose both.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Look at the immortal composers of my country, whose genius will
-radiate unto the last of posterity. The shrill notes of the piano
-are the most common expression of their glorious thoughts. The
-musicians of this nation find voices neither pure nor powerful
-enough to express their pitiful imaginations. When I see such
-anxiety for the sign, I esteem poorly the thing signified, and I
-think that its beauty is, above all, material.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_812">{812}</a></span>
-<p>
-"I love the human voice. What an admirable instrument! But I
-tremble to see how it is used to express the passions of earth
-and the enchantments of pleasure. It is dangerous to possess it.
-I warn you of your danger, my daughter."
-</p>
-<p>
-I have already said that this theory was singular. The word
-appears weak, perhaps; but it came from Germany.
-</p>
-<p>
-However, it had no influence on the destiny of Paganina; for,
-having finished his reasoning, her father gave her a master.
-Happily, logic alone does not govern the world.
-</p>
-<p>
-The little one then learned to sing. Her success in this study
-was rapid, and passed all foresight. Sometimes Master Swibert was
-confounded when he heard her, and trembled before this power
-which had come from himself.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                  XVI.
-</p>
-<p>
-The moment came when André was to be submitted to the proof of a
-public education. His uncle considered such a course necessary to
-make him a man. It was decided that he should receive at the
-conservatory of Naples the classic traditions of Italian art. The
-organist and his daughter wished to accompany him to his
-destination.
-</p>
-<p>
-They travelled by short stages. Master Swibert proposing,
-according to his habit, an elevated result, communicated to his
-children the riches of his erudition. They stopped wherever they
-could hope to gather some fruit, curious to visit every place of
-which they knew the history, and he desirous to give them a
-living knowledge which would be for ever impressed upon them.
-</p>
-<p>
-His studies and affections induced him to neglect the mere
-vestiges of antiquity to seek with greater love the souvenirs of
-Christianity and the relics of the saints. We know if they abound
-on this illustrious earth.
-</p>
-<p>
-Every day, then, the travellers turned a new leaf of the book
-which they had lisped from their childhood. The history of the
-martyrs particularly seized upon the imagination of Paganina. She
-never tired of listening to it on the very places they had
-sanctified by such sublime acts as the world rarely knows.
-</p>
-<p>
-We may scoff at or disdain the wonders of interior sanctity, but
-indifference is arrested by the heroism of martyrdom.
-</p>
-<p>
-The martyrs wear the double crown of divine and human glory.
-After their God, they are the vanquishers of death. Inspired
-courage burns on their faces; and when are added to their ranks
-the grace and beauty of woman and child, why refuse to their
-memory the homage of love and admiration, if even not to be
-Christian is considered worthy of worldly honor.
-</p>
-<p>
-Paganina had the intelligence of greatness; she loved courage and
-true nobility. The recitals of her father drew tears from her
-eyes; and in traversing the arenas made memorable by some bloody
-triumph, she felt within her every inspiration to celebrate them.
-Here she was true to her Italian nature; but she spoke with an
-elevation of accent and depth of emotion which are the privileges
-of northern nations.
-</p>
-<p>
-One evening she was at the Colosseum. She felt an enthusiasm
-within her, an inspiration unaccountable, and pictured in
-life-colors the crowd of excited people, watching and crying out
-to the poor Christian martyrs struggling and dying, in the
-brightness of a supernatural light. She entirely forgot herself.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_813">{813}</a></span>
-<p>
-Something like a hymn breathed from her oppressed heart;
-eloquence overflowed from her lips. The passers-by were attracted
-toward her, and her father listened overcome and astonished.
-While she appeared transfigured, standing in the light of the
-setting sun, which seemed to throw around her the bloody purple
-of which she chanted, a ray of the glory of her ancestors rested
-on the forehead of this grandchild of the martyrs.
-</p>
-<p>
-That evening, her father, in taking her home again, said to her,
-"Go on, my little one; many have passed for eloquent who had not
-your inspiration; many have sought for poetry, and great they
-were; but they have not found the fruit your tiny hands have
-gathered. Mignon sang: you sing and speak; and if you use your
-power for good, Mignon may not compare with you."
-</p>
-<p>
-Excuse the blindness of a father, if you please.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="center">
-                 XVII.
-</p>
-<p>
-When the time came for the children to part, André was overcome
-in a manner which seemed incompatible with his nature, so
-ordinarily tranquil. The father and daughter returned alone, and
-lived afterward with no other company than themselves. They felt
-no need to seek their diversion among their neighbors. The simple
-ties of friendship or convenience to them were unnecessary, and
-the organist preserved with the outside world only the
-acquaintance that strict politeness demanded.
-</p>
-<p>
-Paganina's affection increased daily. A profound sentiment
-without display, and only recognizable by certain mute signs that
-might have escaped an indifferent eye. Her father, however, could
-not be deceived.
-</p>
-<p>
-So these two beings were never separated. They worked together;
-the organist conducted his daughter into the highest regions of
-music, and was astonished, in teaching her, to discover horizons
-hitherto unknown. Paganina made wonderful progress.
-</p>
-<p>
-Those who find in art their happiness in this world, and seek the
-depths of those mysterious tongues of which so many speak and
-know nothing&mdash;those alone can form an idea of the happy moments
-passed in their solitude.
-</p>
-<p>
-At times these two souls rose together, mounted even to the pure
-heights where, to those who attain to them, is given a
-supernatural felicity.
-</p>
-<p>
-To these joys Paganina aspired with an immoderate ardor; but in
-attaining them she experienced a reaction of extreme sadness.
-This disquieted her father; so, in the language of parable which
-he liked to use, and which sometimes proved more original than
-gracious, he said, "My daughter, my daughter, drink with
-precaution; at the bottom of the purest streams are hidden the
-most dangerous reptiles. Be prudent, or you will swallow the
-leech. There is only one fountain to quench your thirst, and
-where, with your impetuous humor, you may drink with safety: it
-is that which gushes toward eternal life."
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-            To Be Continued.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_814">{814}</a></span>
-<br>
-<p class="footnote">
-  [Transcriber's note: This discussion is impressive, considering
-  that quantum theory and the internal structure of the atom
-  appears many decades in the future.]
-</p>
-      <h3>Translated From The Etudes Religieuses.</h3>
-
-         <h2>Recent Scientific Discoveries.</h2>
-
-           <h3>By Fr. Carbonelle.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-The hypothesis of an ethereal medium everywhere diffused, is
-still, in spite of some vague objections urged against it,
-universally received, and the most recent theories and researches
-have not suggested its abandonment or modification in any
-important respect. On the contrary, they point to its more exact
-establishment, and to its application to large classes of
-phenomena in which, until lately, it was hardly supposed to be
-involved. There is no longer any branch of natural philosophy
-which can dispense with it; and in the theory of heat as a mode
-of motion, which will soon be the basis of a new system of
-physics more full and clear than the previous one, the motion
-must probably be explained by the principle of ethereal
-undulations or vibrations.
-</p>
-<p>
-These vibrations show themselves by three different effects,
-namely, heat, chemical action, and color. The first two were for
-a long time neglected, but the third offered quite a large field,
-in which many very beautiful discoveries were made. It was known,
-for instance, that the oscillations were made with prodigious
-rapidity. Thus, the red of the spectrum is produced by vibrations
-repeated four hundred and eighty-three trillions of times in a
-second; while for the violet, more than seven hundred and eight
-trillions are required. Between these limits all the visible rays
-are contained, and, taken successively, they produce all the
-shades of the spectrum, and, by their combination, all possible
-colors. But as there are vibrations in the air too rapid or too
-slow to give the sense of sound to the ear, so there are, in the
-ether, slower than the red, or quicker than the violet, and hence
-invisible. The first have been detected by their calorific, the
-second by their chemical effects. The spectrum has thus been
-considerably extended at both ends, and we cannot be sure that
-its true limits have even yet been found.
-</p>
-<p>
-These facts have been known for some time, and are found in all
-treatises on physics. We only speak of them in order to explain
-better the theories proposed by modern science to explain the
-three effects of ethereal radiation.
-</p>
-<p>
-The hypothesis of three essentially different kinds of rays has
-now been abandoned. The solar beam, for example, which causes six
-hundred and thirty trillion vibrations a second, has the three
-properties of producing in the eye the sensation of blue, of
-heating Melloni's thermo-electric pile, and of decomposing the
-chloride of silver used in photography; but it does not appear
-that three different rays vibrating with this velocity are sent
-to us, each the cause of a separate effect. Notwithstanding the
-most careful experiments, no one of these properties has ever
-been diminished in a ray without diminishing the rest in the same
-proportion. Of course, these properties are differently
-proportioned in the different rays of the spectrum; but in two
-rays from the same part, and hence having the same velocity of
-vibration, these properties always consist in the same relative
-intensity.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_815">{815}</a></span>
-At the red end of the spectrum, the heating power predominates;
-at the other extremity, the chemical; in the middle, the
-luminous. The reason of this seems to be merely the difference of
-vibratory velocities; and we shall see that this will suffice to
-account for it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us first explain how we conceive the production of the
-phenomena of chemical action and of heat. For clearness, we must
-advert to a theory familiar to all, according to which ponderable
-matter is composed of excessively small volumes, called atoms,
-which, though perhaps theoretically divisible, are never divided
-by any physical or chemical action. In the constitution of
-bodies, these atoms are supposed to be grouped in some manner,
-each group forming what is called a molecule. These, unlike the
-atoms, are decomposed in chemical changes, though not in physical
-ones, by which we understand such as evaporation, melting,
-crystallization, heating, magnetizing, electrifying, etc., unless
-these happen to affect the chemical constitution as well as the
-physical condition of the substance. All these do not alter the
-arrangement of the atoms in the molecule, but only the position
-or distance of the molecules with regard to each other. A
-collection of molecules may be called a particle; physical action
-then alters the constitution of the particle as chemical does
-that of the molecule. It may be remarked that our senses give us
-no direct evidence of the existence of molecules, much less of
-that of atoms, and they are supposed to be so extremely small
-that it will probably never be possible to detect them in this
-way.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the application of this chemical theory to that of light, a
-new hypothesis is made, namely, that the ethereal fluid, whether
-itself continuous or composed of separate elements, penetrates
-all the interstices between the atoms of a molecule, as well as
-those between the molecules. The motions of this fluid, and of
-the matter which it penetrates, are communicated to each other,
-according to laws not yet ascertained, but of which we already
-have some glimpses. Thus, in treating of the effects of the
-ethereal vibrations on ponderable bodies, great importance is
-probably due to what is called <i>isochronism</i>, or equality of
-times; that is, the agreement of the rapidity of vibration of the
-ether with that of which the matter is susceptible; for in all
-known communications of vibratory movements, this isochronism
-plays a very notable part. If, for example, we place upon the
-same stand two clocks, having pendulums of the same length, and
-consequently swinging in the same time, and start one of them,
-the slight impulses communicated by this to the other will
-finally set the latter also in motion. If, on the other hand, the
-pendulums are not isochronous, no such effect will be produced.
-In the same way, a stretched cord will vibrate if one of the
-sounds of which it is capable is produced near by; but it will
-not be affected by other notes, even though much louder&mdash;showing
-that isochronism is more important than intensity. Another
-illustration of the same thing struck me forcibly some ten years
-ago. I had ascended with some photographic apparatus to the top
-of an old square tower, very high and massive, to take some
-views. The tower belonged to a church, the bells of which were
-rung several times while I was there. The great bell, though of a
-very considerable size, shook the building very slightly; it
-hardly caused any tremor in the image of the landscape.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_816">{816}</a></span>
-But a second and much smaller bell could not be rung without
-giving to the tower, after two or three minutes, a strong swaying
-movement like that of a tree shaken by the wind. This was owing
-to the isochronism between the oscillations of the tower and of
-the small bell, which more than compensated for the difference of
-mass.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have here an explanation of the physical and chemical
-phenomena produced by the ethereal rays. A few vibrations of this
-medium, probably, would produce no perceptible effect on a mass
-of matter; but these movements are repeated hundreds of trillions
-of times in a second, and however feeble their influence at
-first, isochronism may finally give it great power. Let us
-consider, first, the molecules, which have some connection
-between them, as yet unknown, but probably only allowing a
-certain set of vibratory velocities, (as a cord will only vibrate
-so as to produce a definite series of musical notes.) If, then,
-these are isochronous with those of the surrounding ether, the
-movement of the latter will be communicated to the molecules; or,
-according to the new theory of heat, the body will be warmed.
-These movements may even become so violent as to permanently
-modify the manner of union of the molecules&mdash;that is, to change
-the state of the body from solid to liquid or gaseous; and, by
-this change of state, the molecules may become insensible to the
-vibrations which previously affected them; for the set which they
-can now perform may have been entirely altered. The phenomena of
-heat are then well accounted for by this theory. To explain
-similarly the chemical ones, we have only to suppose ethereal
-vibrations, such that the movement affects the atoms separately,
-instead of the whole molecule, so that, after they have been
-sufficiently prolonged, the connection between the atoms will be
-destroyed. According to this, the chemical action of light should
-always be one of decomposition; it is so undoubtedly in most
-cases, and in the rest, where a combination is produced&mdash;as, for
-instance, in the formation of chlorhydric acid by the action of
-the violet rays on a mixture of chlorine and hydrogen&mdash;we shall
-adduce hereafter some facts which explain them, and show that
-even here the real action of the rays is a decomposing one. It
-may be remarked that the introduction of these ethereal
-vibrations, whose dimensions and velocities are well known, into
-the region, still so mysterious, of atoms and of molecules,
-promises to lead to results long unhoped for. If, for example,
-the theory above stated is correct, it would appear that the
-union of the atoms is such that their necessary time of
-oscillation is shorter than that of the molecules; since the red
-rays, which have the greatest heating power, vibrate more slowly
-than the violet, which are the most active chemically, as stated
-some distance back.
-</p>
-<p>
-The luminous action of the rays is no doubt the most important
-for us, but also the most difficult to study; we have, however,
-something to say about it, for real progress has lately been made
-in this department. In the first place, since we are speaking of
-sensations, it is necessary to notice that this subject has two
-very different parts, one of which belongs to natural science,
-and the other to psychology. We shall here speak only of the
-first, that is, of three classes of phenomena which are produced
-at the exterior extremities of the nervous fibres, on the line of
-the fibres, and in the brain respectively.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_817">{817}</a></span>
-It has been said, in a previous paper, that each of these
-requires a certain time, and the experimental results as to these
-times were there given. But this is all, or almost all, the
-knowledge, unfortunately, which we yet have as to what takes
-place in the brain. The conjecture has been made that the
-different kinds of sensations are due to different modifications
-of the cerebral extremities of the various nerves; or that at the
-interior extremity of the optic nerve, a different action occurs
-from that at the nerve of hearing, which seems probable, since
-there are good reasons for believing that the action of the main
-body of the nerve itself is precisely the same for all the
-sensations. In more than one way, our nervous system would then
-resemble the telegraph. All the wires are traversed by similar
-currents, but the registering apparatus is different in each. In
-one, the dispatch is read off upon a dial; in another, it is
-printed on a moving band; in a third, a facsimile is given of it,
-etc. The sending is also accomplished by different means; but in
-all cases the same agent, the electric current, is employed.
-</p>
-<p>
-Since we are treating of the sensation of sight only in
-connection with the external vibrations, we need here only
-discuss the first of the three classes of phenomena mentioned
-above, those which correspond to the transmission of the
-dispatch. In explaining this, we shall follow the celebrated
-professor of Heidelberg, M. Helmholtz.
-</p>
-<p>
-The use of the spectroscope, and the analysis of light as now
-made in physics, chemistry, and astronomy, might induce the idea
-that color is an intrinsic property of the rays, depending
-entirely upon the length of the undulation in each, and
-inseparably connected with it; but this is not the case. Color is
-an organic phenomenon, only produced in the living animal; and,
-in one sense, is very independent of the length of the wave,
-since it can even exist without the presence of any luminous ray.
-Its laws are admirably exhibited in a figure called Newton's
-circle. This circle has been modified by recent experiments, and
-has received three enlargements, which make it a sort of triangle
-with rounded corners; but it is very well to preserve its name,
-for, as yet, the claims of Newton in optics have not been
-contested in any "<i>Commercium epistolicum</i>." Let us briefly
-describe this figure. The red, green, and blue of the spectrum
-occupy the three corners respectively. Passing round the
-circumference, we go from red to green through yellow, from green
-to blue through greenish blue, and from blue to red through
-violet and purple. If we draw a straight line from any point of
-the circumference to the centre, we find the same color on all
-points of the line, but more and more diluted, so that the centre
-itself is perfectly white. This figure contains all possible
-shades of color, and has the following remarkable property,
-established by experiment. If we wish to know what color will be
-produced by the mixture of any others, we have only to mark upon
-this figure the points where the several colors are found, and
-place weights there proportional to the intensities in which the
-different colors are to be used in the combination; at the centre
-of gravity of these weights, that is, at the point on which the
-circle (supposed itself to be without weight) would balance when
-thus loaded, we shall find the resulting shade. This point does
-not need to be found by experiment, being more easily calculated
-mathematically.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_818">{818}</a></span>
-<p>
-Now it is evident from this that color is a mere matter of
-sensation; for it is obvious that the same centre of gravity can
-be obtained by an infinity of arrangements of the original
-colors, notwithstanding the diversity of their wave-lengths; and
-it will also be found that these various mixed rays, though
-having precisely the same color&mdash;that of the centre of
-gravity&mdash;will differ entirely in their other properties. They act
-variously upon the thermometer and on the sensitive photographic
-plate, and give different tinges to colored objects which they
-illumine. But upon the retina the action of all is the same. How
-is this result to be explained? We will answer without stating
-the proofs, which the limits of this article would forbid.
-</p>
-<p>
-From what has been said, it will be seen that all colors can be
-produced by the mixture of the three fundamental or primary ones,
-red, green, and blue, which were placed at the three rounded
-corners of Newton's circle. It will also be supposed that, as in
-the theory of Thomas Young, nervous fibres of three kinds are
-found at every point of the retina. When these are excited in any
-way, whether by the vibrations of the ether, by lateral pressure
-on the ball of the eye, by a feeble electric current, or by any
-other means, they transmit the excitement to the brain; but the
-red fibres, (so to speak,) if they should act alone, would only
-produce, however they were irritated, the uniform sensation of a
-red such as we hardly ever actually see, more <i>saturated</i>
-than the ordinary red, and which would be found in our figure at
-the extreme summit of the rounded corner. The two other kinds of
-fibres would, of course, act similarly, producing colors more
-pure than are usually seen; since, in our usual sensations, the
-three are always mixed, each predominating in its turn; and this
-is the case even in the spectrum itself. The effect of the pure
-colors in the latter may, however, be heightened as follows: Let
-us fix our eyes, for instance, for a few moments on the
-blue-green. This is the complementary of the red. The fatigue
-will produce a momentary insensibility in the fibres
-corresponding to the blue and green, and, turning the eyes to the
-red part of the spectrum, the slight admixture of these colors
-there present will fail to excite sensibly the corresponding
-nerves, so that the red will be seen for a few seconds in great
-purity. But to return. The stimulus of the first set of fibres,
-though found more or less in all parts of the spectrum, will
-predominate at the red end, where the vibrations are slowest;
-that of the second set in the middle, where the green is found;
-that of the third, at the blue extremity. Why these inequalities?
-Why, also, do the dark rays, preceding the red and following the
-violet, fail to act on the retina? No certain reason can be
-assigned, but there are two very plausible ones: first, the media
-which the rays have to traverse in the eye before reaching the
-nerves have, like all other transparent bodies, the power of
-absorbing the vibrations, not all uniformly, but some in
-preference to others. This elective absorption would destroy or
-diminish the effect of the rays on the nervous fibres. The second
-reason, as will readily be surmised, is the want of isochronism
-between the vibrations of the rays and those of the nervous
-fibres.
-</p>
-<p>
-In confirmation of this theory, a remarkable anatomical fact,
-noticed among many birds and reptiles, may be cited. These
-actually have in the retina three kinds of fibres: the first
-terminated by a small, oily red drop, the second by a yellow one,
-while the third have no perceptible appendage.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_819">{819}</a></span>
-Evidently, the red rays will arrive most purely at the first, the
-central rays of the spectrum at the second, while the blue and
-violet ones will act freely only on the third. It must be granted
-that no such thing has been observed in man and the other
-mammalia; but something similar may be found in the singular
-pathological phenomenon to which the chemist Dalton has given his
-name. Daltonism is most frequently an inability to perceive red.
-For eyes thus affected, the chromatic triangle or circle just
-mentioned is considerably simplified; but sad mistakes are the
-consequence. "All the differences of color," says Helmholtz,
-"appear to them as mixtures of blue and green, which last they
-call yellow." This disorder would be, according to the above
-theory, a paralysis of the first, or red fibres. The simplicity
-of this explanation is certainly in favor of the theory which
-gives it. But we had determined not to bring up arguments. Let
-us, then, pass on; remarking, however, one respect in which the
-eye, otherwise so superior to the rest of the senses, is inferior
-to the ear. Sounds, though combined to any extent in harmonies or
-discords, can readily be separated by an experienced ear. The
-eye, on the other hand, only sees the result of mixed colors; it
-needs instruments to rival the ear; and it is only by means of
-the prism that it can separate and classify the various
-vibrations which reach it.
-</p>
-<p>
-But, provided with this prism, or <i>spectroscope</i>, it has
-lately done wonders. It has discovered and measured a whole world
-of new phenomena, which, according to the theory just developed,
-must be attributed to reciprocal exchanges of movement between
-the ether and the ponderable molecules. The light given by these
-has disclosed to us many secrets of chemistry, and especially of
-astronomy.
-</p>
-<p>
-Before specifying the most recent of these discoveries, we will
-profit by what has already been said to explain very briefly the
-fundamental principles of spectral analysis. Transparent bodies,
-whether solid, liquid, or gaseous, exercise upon the rays an
-absorption which is called elective, because some undulations are
-allowed to pass, while others are stopped, according to their
-velocities; and one of the effects of this absorption is the
-color of such bodies. This is to be explained by the principle of
-isochronism. Those vibrations which, for want of it, cannot be
-imparted to the surrounding matter, pass freely; the others are
-absorbed. But it is remarkable that gases and vapors only absorb
-a small number of them, while solids and liquids retain a great
-many. Thus, supposing that we have obtained, in any way, a
-continuous spectrum&mdash;that is, one with no breaks&mdash;containing all
-the known rays, not only the visible ones between the red and
-violet, but also the rest outside of these limits, a liquid or
-solid body intercepting this light will entirely destroy, or
-considerably weaken, large portions of this spectrum; whereas a
-gas or vapor generally will only efface a few small ones, whose
-absence is detected in the luminous part of the spectrum by the
-dark, transverse lines which have been so long known in that of
-the sun. This is certainly quite extraordinary, since it would
-suggest the inference that in gaseous bodies, the molecules,
-though less condensed, or further from each other, than in solids
-or liquids, have a much smaller range of possible vibrations.
-Besides this, the researches of Mr. Frankland on flames have
-lately shown that, even in gases, this range increases as the
-density augments. These results must undoubtedly be considered as
-strange; but what, after all, do we know of the connection of the
-elements of matter?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_820">{820}</a></span>
-Without dwelling further on this point, we will mention the most
-important fact learned by these experiments: that this elective
-absorption is a complete test of the chemical composition of
-gases. In given conditions of temperature and pressure, each gas
-is perfectly distinguished from all others by the special
-absorption which it exercises upon the luminous rays. The
-principle by which chemical analysis is performed
-spectroscopically is thus evident. To find if any particular gas
-is to be found on the path of the ray, it is only necessary to
-develop the latter into a spectrum, and to see, by the position
-of the particular dark lines produced in it, if the absorption
-due to this gas has been effected.
-</p>
-<p>
-But this is not all. Bodies sufficiently heated become luminous.
-According to the theory, this means that the molecules of matter,
-in their turn, communicate their vibrations to the ether; and
-here again we should find the influence of isochronism. The
-ether, it is true, is susceptible of vibrations of any velocity
-within certain very wide limits; but the molecules can give it
-none which are not isochronous with their own. Let us see what
-will result. Evidently, that the light which is emitted will,
-when developed into a spectrum, be concentrated in brilliant
-lines at those points where the velocities of undulation are the
-same as those of which the gas is capable; and, further, these
-lines should also evidently be in the same places, as the dark
-lines which this gas produces, as explained above, in a
-continuous spectrum, by absorption. This actually takes place in
-most cases, but some exceptions must be expected; because
-variations of temperature and pressure change the mutual
-connections of the gaseous molecules, and hence should also
-change the velocities of their oscillations. Thus, it is often
-found that the same gases change their systems of brilliant lines
-as their temperature or pressure changes; and Mr. Frankland has
-even obtained gases giving continuous spectra, sometimes
-attaining this result by pressure alone. The influence of heat
-also explains why solid or liquid bodies, when incandescent, give
-continuous spectra; while, at a low temperature, their
-interposition produces an elective absorption. For it is known
-that transparent solids or liquids become opaque when heated
-sufficiently to shine; the reason apparently being that, like the
-ether, they are capable of vibrations of any degree of rapidity
-within the usual limits, and hence allow no ethereal ones&mdash;or, in
-other words, no light&mdash;to pass through them, but absorb them all.
-Most flames or incandescent vapors, on the contrary, do not
-entirely lose their transparency. This property is of inestimable
-value in our investigations of nature.
-</p>
-<p>
-Gases, by the combination of their elective absorption with their
-equally elective emission, produce results which at first sight
-might appear singular, but which can now readily be explained.
-Suppose that a flame is situated on the path of some rays which,
-without this interposition, would give a brilliant continuous
-spectrum. This flame only absorbs the ray having vibrations
-isochronous with its own; on the other hand, it emits rays
-similar to those which it absorbs. The resulting spectrum will
-vary according to the relative intensity of the emitted and
-absorbed rays. If these two intensities are equal, the spectrum
-will remain continuous; but if the absorption predominates, there
-will be dark lines in it; if the emission, brilliant ones.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_821">{821}</a></span>
-Similar phenomena of reversal have been often met with in the
-recent examinations of different parts of the sun.
-</p>
-<p>
-The principles just explained have been known for several years,
-and were sufficient for astronomy as long as it restricted its
-investigations to the chemical analysis of the atmospheres of the
-heavenly bodies. But it was soon perceived that much greater use
-could be made of the spectroscope. Information is now beginning
-to be acquired by means of it which had previously appeared to be
-unattainable, regarding, for instance, the rapidity of the motion
-of stars the distance of which is still unknown; the great
-movements which are continually taking place in the great masses
-of gas in the solar photosphere, and the pressure of these masses
-at different depths; and it is even hoped that a direct
-determination of their temperature may be made. Let us speak
-first of the observations of stellar velocities. Their
-possibility may easily be shown by means of an acoustic
-phenomenon which the reader must frequently have noticed. Let us
-suppose two trains of cars to be moving rapidly in opposite
-directions, and that one of them whistles as it passes the other.
-If we are seated in the latter, we shall perceive that the pitch
-of the whistle suddenly falls as it passes us. The reason is
-manifest. A certain time is necessary for the sound to reach us;
-and while the train is approaching, this time is sensibly shorter
-for each succeeding vibration, so that the interval between the
-vibrations is apparently diminished, and the note is higher than
-it would be were the trains at rest. On the other hand, as the
-whistle recedes after passing, its pitch is lowered for a similar
-reason. Of course, no such effect is produced by that of our own
-train, which always remains at the same distance from us. By the
-amount of flattening of the sound, it is quite possible to
-calculate the velocity of the train, as compared with that of
-sound. [Footnote 198]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 198: Suppose the sum of the velocities of the
-    trains to be one-ninth of that of sound, and that the whistle
-    is, at a given moment, 1140 feet (which is about the distance
-    travelled by sound in a second) from our ear. The vibrations
-    emitted at this instant will reach us in one second; and all
-    those emitted in the nine seconds required for the train to
-    arrive will be condensed into the remaining eight. Their
-    frequency will then be nine-eighths of what it would be
-    without the motion. It will be diminished in nearly the same
-    ratio after the passage; since the vibration emitted nine
-    seconds afterward will require an additional second to reach
-    us; thus, the frequency will now be nine-tenths of what it
-    would be without the motion, or four-fifths of what it was
-    before meeting; corresponding to a flattening of two whole
-    musical tones. This would require a relative velocity of 127
-    feet a second, or 87 miles an hour; which gives the rule,
-    that, for every half-tone of flattening, the sum of the
-    velocities, or the velocity of the moving train, if we are at
-    rest, is 22 miles an hour.]
-</p>
-<p>
-It is very easy to apply what has just been said of the waves of
-sound to those of light. The motion of the sonorous body
-displaces its sounds on the acoustic scale; in the same way, the
-motion of the luminous body will displace its light on the optic,
-placing any particular line, dark or brilliant, in the spectrum
-nearer to the violet or rapid end, if the body is approaching;
-and nearer to the red, if it is receding. And we are not obliged
-to wait till the change has taken place in the character of the
-motion, as in the case of the train, since we can always obtain
-lines similar to those thus displaced, and having the same
-velocity of vibration, from some terrestrial substance,
-relatively at rest, and put the two side by side in the same
-field; and by this means we obtain at once the difference between
-the apparent number of vibrations in a second of the ray from the
-moving body, and the real number, and thus the velocity of the
-moving object. This observation has the advantage of being
-independent of the distance of the objects observed, being as
-accurate for the most distant stars as for the nearest.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_822">{822}</a></span>
-We may notice, in passing, also a singular consequence. If the
-motion were rapid enough, it would change the colors of objects;
-and, since outside the visible spectrum there are dark rays, it
-would even be possible for a luminous body to become invisible,
-by the mere effect of movement away from or to us. But the
-prodigious velocity of light places such a result among mere
-metaphysical possibilities. Indeed, it was thought, for a time,
-that the effect of motion on the spectral lines would never be
-perceptible. The first trials only gave negative results, either
-because the bodies observed were moving too slowly, or because
-the instruments used were not sensitive enough. This is no longer
-the case, as we shall soon see.
-</p>
-<p>
-To conclude this explanation of principles, it only remains to
-say a few words on the spectroscopic observations of temperature
-and pressure. But here we shall indeed be obliged to be brief;
-since Messrs. Frankland and Lockyer, who have undertaken
-investigations on these important points, have not yet finished
-their labors; and what they have as yet communicated to the Royal
-Society of London, and the Academy of Sciences of Paris, is not
-sufficiently detailed. In 1864, Messrs. Plücker and Hittorf
-discovered that variations in temperature of some of the chemical
-elements, such as hydrogen, nitrogen, sulphur, and selenium,
-caused sudden changes in their spectra. At a certain degree of
-heat, their former lines instantly disappeared and were succeeded
-by new ones. This is evidently somewhat analogous to what takes
-place in a sonorous pipe when it is blown more forcibly. At
-first, the sound only becomes louder, then its pitch is suddenly
-raised. But here we know the relation of the new note to the old
-one; but the connection between the successive spectra has not
-yet been ascertained. As regards pressure, Messrs. Frankland and
-Lockyer inform us that one of the lines of hydrogen increases in
-breadth with increased compression of the gas. We have also
-already said that under very high pressures the gases have not
-only shown broader bright lines, but even continuous spectra. (It
-will be remembered that the usual spectrum given by a luminous
-gas consists of isolated bright lines.) Father Secchi, whose
-attention has lately been turned to composite rather than to
-simple substances, has observed, among other things, that the
-spectrum of benzine vapor is gradually modified with a gradual
-increase of density.
-</p>
-<p>
-Let us pass to the recent applications which astronomers have
-made of these various principles. The eclipse of the 18th of
-August, 1868, and the beautiful discovery of M. Janssen, have
-naturally turned their attention to the sun, and some most
-interesting discoveries have been made. To study its various
-portions, an image of it is first produced in the focus of a
-large telescope, which image is afterward enlarged by a lens
-similar to those used for the objectives of microscopes; and its
-different parts are successively placed upon the slit of the
-spectroscope. (The slit is the small aperture of that shape
-through which the light enters before falling upon the analyzing
-prism.) This slit thus receives light from only a part of the
-sun's disc; for the light diffused in our atmosphere and falling
-upon it, although coming indeed from all parts of the sun, is too
-feeble to interfere with the observations. Suppose, then, that
-our eye is at the spectroscope, and that the slit is receiving
-rays from the centre of the sun.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_823">{823}</a></span>
-The movement of the heavens will bring all the points of the
-solar radius successively upon it, from the centre to the edge;
-and if the slit is placed perpendicular to this radius, it will
-come out, of course, tangent to the edge. Under these conditions,
-and if the atmosphere is steady, the phenomena will be as
-follows.
-</p>
-<p>
-As long as we are upon the disc, we shall see nothing but the
-usual solar spectrum with its colors and its numerous dark lines.
-The region from which this light comes is called the photosphere;
-and its spectrum would be continuous were not its light absorbed
-by the interposed vapors of a great many substances. These vapors
-produce the dark lines; but where are they? It was for a long
-time supposed that they formed an immense atmosphere round the
-sun, only visible during total eclipses under the form of a
-brilliant aureola. This hypothesis seems now to have been
-abandoned, for reasons which will soon be given. It is generally
-thought that these absorbing vapors form the atmosphere in which
-the luminous clouds float, or, at least, that they are in
-immediate contact with the photosphere.
-</p>
-<p>
-Secondly, when we have nearly arrived at the edge, the spectrum
-is covered with a number of bright lines. According to Messrs.
-Frankland and Lockyer, these probably indicate a very thin
-gaseous covering of the photosphere, the elective emission of
-which has no effect for want of sufficient thickness, except upon
-the borders of the sun, where it is seen very obliquely. Upon the
-rest of the surface it only acts by its elective absorption, and
-perhaps may be the only cause of the dark lines. This conjecture
-certainly agrees with the principles just developed.
-</p>
-<p>
-Thirdly, at the moment of passing off the disc, the lines all
-disappear, and the spectrum becomes continuous. Father Secchi,
-who informs us of this fact, naturally ascribes it to a
-particular layer enveloping the photosphere. He adds that this
-layer is very thin, so that tremulousness in the air suffices to
-prevent its observation, on account of the mixture of lights. It
-is not found on the whole circumference of the disc; but we shall
-give an explanation of this. He supposes that it is the seat of
-the elective absorption which produces the dark lines; but how
-can this be reconciled with the continuity of the spectrum which
-it emits?
-</p>
-<p>
-This spectrum soon disappears, and some brilliant lines take its
-place, particularly a red, a yellow, a green, and a violet one.
-At this moment the slit is illumined by the famous rose-colored
-layer, now called the <i>chromosphere</i>, upon which rest the
-protuberances, formerly so mysterious, seen in total eclipses. We
-cannot see it in the ordinary way, on account of the atmospheric
-light; but it comes out in the spectroscope, its light being
-concentrated in a few bright lines, while that of our atmosphere
-is spread out in a long spectrum, and consequently much weakened.
-It has been found that the mean thickness of this gaseous
-envelope of the sun is more than 5000 kilometres, (3107 miles,)
-or about four tenths of the earth's diameter, and that its
-contour is very variable; it is often agitated like the waves of
-a stormy sea, while in some places it sometimes has a very
-uniform level. It is now regarded as forming the outer limit or
-coating of the sun. The only reason which formerly supported the
-belief in a gaseous atmosphere outside of it, the elective
-absorption of which gave the dark lines of the solar spectrum,
-was the phenomenon of the aureola, already mentioned. But the
-thin layer discovered by F. Secchi will probably account for
-this; and there are, on the other hand, very strong reasons for
-rejecting the idea of such a vast exterior envelope.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_824">{824}</a></span>
-One is the appearance, mentioned above, of the numerous bright
-lines which Messrs. Frankland and Lockyer attribute to a thin,
-gaseous coating of the photosphere. The light of these ought
-seemingly to be absorbed by a thick atmosphere, and the lines
-reversed to dark ones. Besides, these same observers consider
-that the change of breadth of the lines shows that the pressure
-is insignificant at the summit of the chromosphere, and that even
-at the base it is less than that of our own air. Lastly, no
-traces have been found of the bright-line spectrum which this
-envelope ought itself to give in the vicinity of the disc.
-</p>
-<p>
-To return to the chromosphere: of what gases is it formed? It
-certainly is principally composed of hydrogen, perhaps in many
-parts entirely so. When a series of electric sparks is passed
-through a tube containing pure hydrogen at a very low pressure,
-the tube is illumined with a light of the same color as that of
-the protuberances. If this light is examined with the
-spectroscope, it shows a fine spectrum with a number of brilliant
-and very fine lines, among which four are conspicuous, broader
-and brighter than the others. The first is red, the second green,
-the third and fourth are violet; but this fourth is much the
-faintest, and even the third is not so bright as the other two.
-The first is called C, the second F, because their positions
-exactly correspond to those of the two dark lines thus designated
-by Fraunhofer in the solar spectrum. The third is very near the
-dark line G of the sun, which is produced by the vapor of iron.
-Now, the two first are always found among the lines of the
-chromosphere; the third also is often visible; and M. Rayet has
-recently seen the fourth. Hydrogen, then, exists in this layer;
-for though its other lines are not seen, this may easily be
-ascribed to their faintness. But there is one line of the
-chromosphere which is still unexplained, the yellow one between C
-and F. It would at first seem to be the well-known double line of
-sodium, called D, which is so frequently met with in
-spectroscopic experiments; but it is certain that it is somewhat
-more refrangible than this; and it is not yet known to what
-substance it is due; it may, perhaps, also belong to hydrogen,
-under a different pressure or temperature from any under which it
-has been observed here.
-</p>
-<p>
-It has been said that the outline of the chromosphere is
-generally very irregular. Immense columns rise from it, the
-celebrated protuberances, the height of which is sometimes as
-much as eleven diameters of the earth, (or 85,000 miles.) It
-must, therefore, be subject to great agitation, to which the
-spectroscope bears witness. Mr. Lockyer has observed several
-times that foreign substances were projected into it; for
-example, magnesium into one protuberance as far as the sixth part
-of its height; barium and sodium, and probably other bodies also,
-were seen, but at smaller elevations. We now understand the
-breaks in the thin layer detected by F. Secchi; it is probably
-torn by the upward movement of various substances toward the
-protuberances. It is, in fact, wanting near the bright spots on
-the sun, called faculae, and it is now known that these faculae
-are always covered by protuberances.
-</p>
-<p>
-Near these bright spots are also usually found the dark spots
-which have been observed for more than two centuries. Some
-discoveries have just been made regarding these which are perhaps
-the most interesting of any yet made in the sun.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_825">{825}</a></span>
-Every one knows that they are composed of two distinct parts&mdash;the
-nucleus, which appears black in a telescope, but which is really
-quite bright, since it gives a spectrum of its own; and the
-penumbra, which surrounds this nucleus. The latter consists of
-portions of the photosphere, drawn out in the form of threads
-toward the centre of the nucleus; these threads sometimes unite
-with each other and form bridges, as it were, over the dark
-space. All the spectral observations confirm the idea previously
-entertained, that these spots are really cavities in the
-photosphere; also they indicate that these cavities are filled
-with absorbing vapors, whose high degree of pressure is manifest
-by the broadening of their lines. Mr. Lockyer has seen in them
-sodium, barium, and magnesium; F. Secchi, calcium, iron, and
-sodium. Above these spots the hydrogen of the chromosphere
-appears in quantities sufficient for its elective emission to
-destroy the black lines produced by its absorption upon other
-parts of the disc, and even sometimes to change them into bright
-ones. But there are many other peculiarities in the spectra of
-the spots; and F. Secchi, in examining them, has hit upon an idea
-which seems to us very suggestive. It was already known by
-observations of their frequency and size, that the sun is a
-slightly variable star, with a period of ten and one third years.
-We now find a new resemblance between it and the other variable
-stars. It may be remembered that the Roman astronomer has lately
-divided the stars into four classes, according to the general
-character of their spectra. He has just compared the different
-portions of the sun with these four groups, and finds that if its
-surface was all like the nuclei of the spots, it would have to be
-put in the class whose type is Betelgeux, all of which are more
-or less variable; that the penumbras are like Arcturus, and the
-general surface of the photosphere like Pollux. He has also
-concluded, from the presence of many of the dark lines in the
-nuclei, that the vapor of water exists in these regions of the
-sun; and the appearance of others not yet named has caused him to
-suspect the presence of many other compound bodies. Up to this
-time, hardly any thing but the simple substances has been looked
-for, as the heat of the sun would seem to be so great as to
-separate all the composite ones; but this temperature probably is
-not so high in the spots. It became, therefore, of interest to
-examine the faint red stars which form his fourth group; and in
-doing so, F. Secchi has obtained the surprising result that the
-vapor of a compound substance, namely, benzine, gives, when
-incandescent, a spectrum having bright lines exactly
-corresponding to the dark ones of one of the stars of this group.
-This star, then, appears to have an atmosphere of benzine.
-</p>
-<p>
-Finally, the spectroscope has demonstrated the movement of at
-least one star. Mr. Huggins has found that the hydrogen lines in
-the spectrum of Sirius do not exactly coincide with those of this
-gas when at rest, but are displaced toward the violet; this
-observation was confirmed at Rome. It would follow from this that
-Sirius is rapidly approaching us. This is the only observation of
-this description which seems yet to be well established. But may
-it not be possible to make others, and even elsewhere than among
-the stars? The chromosphere is, as we know, the scene of very
-rapid movements; and may not these be visible by the displacement
-of the spectral lines?
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_826">{826}</a></span>
-The following remark of Mr. Lockyer, in one of his communications
-to the Royal Society, would induce us to  hope for this: "In the
-protuberance of which we are speaking, the line F was strangely
-displaced. It seemed that some disturbing cause altered the
-refrangibility of this line of hydrogen <i>under certain
-conditions and pressures</i>." But is it really to pressure that
-this displacement is due, when we know that rapid movement
-produces this effect, which has never been known to follow from
-pressure? But let us hasten to acknowledge that, in a subsequent
-communication of the same author, we find a sentence much more to
-the point, and which only needs to be a little more developed to
-answer our question. Mr. Lockyer is here speaking of movements in
-the vapors which fill the cavities of the spots. "The changes of
-refrangibility," says he, "of the rays in question show that the
-absorbing matter is rising and falling relatively to the luminous
-matter, and that these movements can be determined with great
-precision." Let us hope that this will be verified by
-observation, and that exact measures will show the fertility of
-such a promising theoretical principle. [Footnote 199]
-</p>
-<p class="footnote">
-    [Footnote 199: The rapidity of some of these movements has
-    been said to be about one hundred miles a second.]
-</p>
-<p>
-The length of this bulletin is beginning to alarm us; but since
-it should include all the last scientific developments concerning
-the subject of ethereal vibrations, a word must be added on some
-curious experiments of Mr. Tyndall. The chemical action of these
-vibrations had hardly been examined hitherto, except in the
-nutrition of plants, in the formation of chlorhydric acid, and in
-the transformation of various substances, principally used in
-photography. The successor of Faraday has recently studied their
-effects upon vapors, and has applied the curious results of his
-investigations to some as yet unexplained facts of meteorology
-and astronomy. Passing a cylindrical  beam of light down a long
-glass tube full of the vapor which he wished to examine, he found
-that the vapor soon ceased to be completely transparent. An
-incipient cloud, as he calls it, soon appeared, so thin that it
-could only be seen by the light of the beam producing it, but
-became invisible in the full light of day. Some vapors
-undoubtedly will not produce it; but the experiment succeeds
-perfectly with many different ones, especially with nitrite of
-amyle, bisulphide of carbon, benzine, etc. The following
-explanation of this phenomenon seems quite probable. The
-vibrations of the ethereal medium, or at least some of them, are
-communicated to the <i>atoms</i> of which the composite
-<i>molecules</i> of the vapor are formed. Owing to isochronism,
-the movement becomes strong enough to break up the molecule, the
-atoms of which are formed into new combinations, which are better
-able to resist the action of light. If the new substance cannot
-remain under the given pressure and temperature in the gaseous
-state, it will be precipitated in liquid particles, which are at
-first extremely small, but gradually increase in size, so as to
-intercept the light and become visible. If the vapor employed
-satisfies these conditions, the experiment ought to succeed. The
-chemical analysis of the products has, we believe, in some cases
-confirmed this explanation; we will now confirm it by some facts
-of another kind.
-</p>
-<p>
-In Mr. Tyndall's experiments, the vapor examined was never
-unmixed; when it was put into the tube, some other gas was also
-introduced, usually atmospheric air; but other gases were also
-employed. With hydrogen, a remarkable effect was produced. On
-account of its small density, it failed to sustain the liquid
-particles, and they slowly settled in the bottom of the tube.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_827">{827}</a></span>
-By a suitable diminution of the pressure of these mixtures of gas
-and vapor, the chemical action of the rays could be retarded at
-pleasure. The "incipient cloud" could then be seen to form
-gradually; and whatever was the character of the vapor used, the
-cloud had always at first a magnificent blue color. Continuing
-the experiment, the brilliancy of the cloud increased, but its
-blue tinge diminished, until it became as white as those usually
-formed. The natural explanation of this change is found in the
-gradual growth of the liquid particles.
-</p>
-<p>
-The cloud was not usually formed all along the course of the
-rays. After having traversed a certain thickness of vapor, the
-rays, though seeming as bright as ever, lost their chemical
-power. This result might easily be predicted by the theory. Only
-a few of these rays had the proper length of wave to act by
-isochronism upon the atoms of the vapor. These would be absorbed
-shortly after entering; and the others, though vastly more
-numerous and escaping absorption, would produce no chemical
-effect. It was even probable that, by passing the light at the
-outset through a small thickness of the liquid, the vapor of
-which was contained in the tube, all its active rays could be
-taken out; and experiment confirmed this conclusion. It is to be
-regretted that the light was not examined with the prism before
-being employed; the wave-length of the active rays would then
-have been known. It is no doubt very probable that they are
-toward the violet extremity, either among the visible rays or
-beyond. But the colored glasses, which the English physicist
-interposed, only partially resolve the question. The prism would
-undoubtedly have shown that the wave-length of the active rays
-varies with the substance exposed to them.
-</p>
-<p>
-Some vapors taken alone are almost insensible, while their
-mixture is immediately affected by the passage of the rays. Such
-is the case of that of nitrite of butyle with chlorhydric acid.
-This is very easily explained theoretically. The disturbance
-communicated to the atoms by the ethereal vibrations, though very
-decided, may be insufficient to break up the molecules. But if
-another cause, though itself insufficient alone, comes to its
-assistance, the atoms may be separated. Such another cause is
-that which chemists have long known as <i>affinity</i>, the
-manifestations of which are very numerous; but which has not yet
-been submitted to a precise analysis. In the case just mentioned,
-the affinity of the elements of the nitrite of butyle for those
-of the chlorhydric acid conspires with the vibrations to destroy
-the molecules of the two substances and form a new one, which is
-precipitated. The phenomenon is like that observed in the growth
-of plants. Light alone is not sufficient to decompose the
-carbonic acid of the air; neither are the leaves when in the
-dark. But when the sun's rays fall upon them, the carbonic acid
-is decomposed, its oxygen uniting with the atmosphere and its
-carbon with the plant. It is now easy to justify what was said in
-the beginning as to the formation of chlorhydric acid by the
-action of the rays on a mixture of chlorine and hydrogen. It is
-only necessary that the molecules of these gases, or, at least,
-of one of them, should be composed of several atoms. Affinity
-alone could only break the union of these very slowly; but the
-light would shake them apart, and enable the affinity to act
-immediately.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_828">{828}</a></span>
-<p>
-So far Mr. Tyndall's experiments agree perfectly with the theory;
-they confirm it, but they do not extend it. He has, however, made
-others, which seem to disclose new points in the theory of
-exchange of movements between the ether and ponderable matter. It
-might no longer be the atoms or the molecules which would have to
-be considered in respect to the ethereal vibrations, but even the
-particles, if sufficiently small. In fact, these particles
-reflect the rays not absorbed, according to entirely new laws. In
-the first place, although belonging to colorless liquids, they
-reflect the blue rays much better than the others. This is true
-of all the vapors tried, without exception. This elective
-reflection only holds when their dimensions are small, since it
-disappears as the size of the particles increases. This is quite
-a new fact, and, it must be acknowledged, as yet quite
-unexplained. Secondly, they polarize light according to laws
-which must also be called new, being entirely different from
-those given by theory and experiment for polarization by
-reflection. In one respect these laws are not new; for they have
-been long observed in atmospheric polarization; but this has
-always been one of the knotty points of the undulatory theory.
-Evidently, Mr. Tyndall's experiments do not clear it up entirely;
-but they have made an important advance in that direction, by
-showing to what physical circumstance this polarization is
-probably due. It would appear, that is, that in the higher
-regions of our atmosphere there are vapors which, instead of
-condensing in particles large enough to form ordinary clouds, are
-precipitated like those used by Mr. Tyndall, and fill the air
-with extremely small particles and with incipient clouds. This
-hypothesis is certainly very probable. It accounts at once for
-the blueness of the sky, and for its polarization of light.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here is, then, a problem for theorists, in a better condition
-than previously. We hope to return to it shortly, in a subsequent
-bulletin. In conclusion, let us point out a new application of
-these experiments to the physical theory of comets. Mr. Tyndall
-considers the cometary matter to be a vapor on which the sun's
-rays act physically and chemically. These two actions would be
-somewhat contrary to each other; for the first would tend to
-evaporate the liquid particles and expand the vapor, while the
-second would precipitate this vapor in the form of incipient
-cloud. As the comet approaches solar action, forming an immense
-volume, of which the visible part will be only a small fraction,
-the head being the most condensed portion. If, now, we suppose
-the head to absorb the heating rays more abundantly than the
-remaining ones, in the cool shadow behind it the chemical action
-may prevail, and form an incipient cloud, which will be the tail
-of the comet. Elsewhere, the calorific action will predominate,
-and the vapor will remain invisible. Such is substantially the
-new theory of comets. It certainly satisfies the general
-conditions of the problem, and especially it explains very
-naturally the enormously rapid movements observed in the tails of
-these bodies. But will what is still undetermined in it enable it
-to be accommodated to the numerous facts already observed, and
-hereafter to be so? Here, also, it may be regretted that the
-spectroscope was not employed by the English physicist. The
-spectra of the incipient clouds might have been compared with
-those of comets' tails; and would have given an excellent test of
-the theory. Perhaps, however, he has reserved this part of his
-researches for a future publication.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_829">{829}</a></span>
-<br>
-         <h2>St. Oren's Priory.</h2>
-     <h3>Or, Extracts From The
-     Note-book Of An American In A
-     French Monastery.</h3>
-
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-      "Pour chercher mieux."
-  &mdash;Device of Queen Christina of Sweden.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-              PART I.
-
-  "I hear a voice you cannot hear,
-     Forbidding me to stay:
-   I see a hand you cannot see,
-     Which beckons me away."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p>
-Such were the words on my lips, my dear friend, when I bade you
-farewell and promised that I would, from time to time, give you a
-picture of my convent life, that you might in spirit follow me
-closely into the sealed garden of the Beloved, though forced by
-circumstances to remain far from me in body.
-</p>
-<p>
-Fatigued with my long journey, you can imagine I was very glad
-when I reached this city. I hastened to find the <i>Rue du
-Prieuré</i>, a narrow, gloomy street, paved with cobble-stones,
-cheerless and uninviting. But about half-way down, I saw a statue
-of Mary Most Pure, in a niche over a large doorway, with her
-all-embracing arms extended in welcome. That was a <i>sursum
-corda</i> which reassured me. The place where Mary is honored is
-always a home for her children. The sight of her image brings
-peace and repose to the soul, and I turned aside to rest under
-her shadow. It was the grand portal of St. Oren's Priory, an
-arched passage through the very building, wide enough to admit a
-carriage. I stopped before the ponderous door that was to open
-for me a new life. This was the door I had so often heard
-compared with another portal which bears the inscription:
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "All ye who enter here, leave hope behind."
-</p>
-<p>
-But above my head was the Madonna which meant love and peace.
-<i>Peace</i>; yes, that was what I sought, like the Tuscan poet
-at the Italian monastery:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "And as he asks what there the stranger seeks,
-   My voice along the cloister whispers, Peace!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The door opened just wide enough to admit me, and, passing
-through the arch, I found myself in a small paved court, enclosed
-by the monastery on all sides, where the sun only comes for a
-short time at midday&mdash;a grateful refuge from its heat. In it is a
-fine large linden-tree, under whose wide-spreading branches I
-found a group of nuns&mdash;it being the hour of daily reunion. I felt
-bewildered by the sight of so many strange faces, but my first
-impression was one of general kindness and cordiality. I could
-not have asked for a kinder welcome, and surely hope and peace
-were on every face. One of the mothers, seeing my fatigue, took
-me to the chapel for a moment, and then, through long corridors,
-to a small cell; thus giving me a general glance at my foreign
-home. I found thick stone walls, long passages, paved floors, a
-dim old chapel, and narrow cells. You will think this fearful; on
-the contrary, it is charming because monastic. One of the narrow
-cells is mine; furnished with a table, chair, bed, and
-<i>prie-dieu</i>. On the latter stands a crucifix, and on the
-wall hangs a print of Notre Dame de Bon Secours. There is one
-window in it,
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-  "Looking toward the golden Eastern air."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_830">{830}</a></span>
-<p>
-It opens in the middle, longitudinally, like all the windows
-here; each part swinging back like a folding-door. Looking
-through it upon the convent garden, the first thing I saw was a
-lay-sister, bearing on her head an antique-looking jar, which she
-had just filled from a huge well. There are two of these immense
-wells in the garden, dug by the monks of old! Yes, <i>monks</i>,
-for our monastery was once a Benedictine abbey, and dates from
-the tenth century. There's hoary antiquity for you, which has
-such a charm for us people of the new world. These first days,
-while resting from my fatigue, I have been looking over the
-annals of this old establishment, and must give you an outline of
-them.
-</p>
-<p>
-Do you remember reading, in the <i>Chronicles</i> of Sir John
-Froissart, of the Armagnacs, so long at enmity with the house of
-Foix? The first Count of Armagnac, was the founder of St. Oren's
-Priory. He was known by the name of Bernard <i>le Louche</i>. He
-made this city the capital of his <i>comté;</i> and one of his
-first acts, after his establishment here, was to build this
-monastery. The old parchment in the archives of the priory, quite
-in accordance with the spirit of the times, runs thus:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Bernardus Luscus, mindful of his sins, unable to fulfil a vow
-  he had made to visit the Holy Places at Jerusalem, and desirous
-  of liquidating his debts to Divine Justice, resolved, by the
-  counsel of his wife, the Domina Emerina, and the advice of the
-  magnates, his lieges, to found a monastery <i>in honorem
-  Sanctorum Joannis Baptistae et Evangelistae et Beati
-  Orentii</i>, that therein prayer might be daily offered for his
-  sins and for those of his posterity."
-</p>
-<p>
-The site selected for the erection of this monastery was on the
-banks of a branch of the Garonne, at the foot of an old city
-known in the time of the Caesars as Climberris, and built <i>en
-amphithéatre</i>, with superb terraces, upon the side of an
-elevation. It was fitting that the abbey, which Count Bernard had
-founded for the spiritual weal of himself and his posterity, and
-endowed with "lands and livings many a rood," should find shelter
-beneath his fostering eye at the very foot of his crescent-shaped
-city, which was itself surmounted by the embattled walls of his
-own stronghold. Thus enclosed by hills on the north and west, and
-the peaceful, sluggish Algersius on the east, threading its way
-toward the Garonne&mdash;its current soft-gliding and calm as the life
-of the cloister&mdash;what spot more suitable could Count Bernard have
-found on which to build a house of prayer? The warm sun of France
-to which it thus lay exposed was tempered by the keen,
-invigorating winds that came from the snowy Pyrenees, which
-glitter away to the south.
-</p>
-<p>
-In this very place, before the advent of the Messiah, in
-mythological times, a temple had stood in honor of Diana, the old
-ideal of a people's reverence for purity, and one of nature's
-foreshadowings of the Christian exaltation of chastity. The
-Auscitains being early converted to Christianity, their zealous
-apostles overthrew the high places of the Gentiles, and thereon
-set up the victorious ensign of the cross&mdash;<i>Vexilla regis
-prodeunt!</i>
-</p>
-<p>
-On the ruins of Diana's temple was erected an altar to the true
-God, and a baptistery, named, as all baptisteries are, after the
-precursor of Christ, where came the warlike Ausci to be
-regenerated at the holy hands of the zealous St. Taurin, and the
-fearless, idol-demolishing St. Oren, who in turn fixed their
-abode hard by. Other saints too have lived on the same spot, and
-their bodies were enshrined hereon after their spirits had passed
-away.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_831">{831}</a></span>
-St. Taurin, St. Oren, St. Léothade, St. Austinde, names ever
-venerable to the heart of an Auscitain, living in the shadow of
-your shrines, sheltered by your votaries who merit for me your
-protection, I should be ungrateful to you, untrue to my own
-heart, did I not often murmur your potent names and praise you to
-those afar off!
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Taurin was the fourth successor of St. Paterne, whom St.
-Sernin, the great apostle not only of Toulouse but of all this
-part of France, consecrated first bishop of Eauze, then the
-metropolis of Novempopulania, as Gascony was called. Forced by
-barbarians, who came in search of spoils, to quit Eauze, St.
-Taurin took refuge in Climberris, bringing with him, among other
-relics, the bodies of his four sainted predecessors in the
-episcopacy: St. Paterne, St. Servand, St. Optat, St. Pompidien.
-At that time, there were two distinct cities here&mdash;Climberris, a
-Gaulish city, on the side and crest of the hill, and Augusta
-Auscorum, on the eastern bank of the Algersius, which last
-received its name from the Emperor Augustus, who passed through
-it on his return from Spain, and gave it the rights of a Roman
-city. St. Saturnin had first preached the gospel here, and built
-a church under the invocation of St. Peter in the city of
-Augusta; and at the foot of Climberris, where our priory now
-stands, was a church of St. John. St. Taurin chose the latter as
-his metropolitan church&mdash;a rank it retained for a long
-period&mdash;and there enshrined the holy bodies he had brought with
-him.
-</p>
-<p>
-The zeal of St. Taurin was not confined to his own flock. Hearing
-of a great Druidical celebration in the woods of Berdale, he
-repaired thither. The unholy rites had commenced, and a profound
-silence reigned, when all at once a loud voice was heard. It was
-that of St. Taurin, denouncing their idolatry and calling upon
-the multitude to turn to the true God. The crowd was at first too
-much astonished at his boldness to move, but after some
-hesitation, incited by the Druids, overwhelmed the apostle with a
-shower of stones. Finding he still breathed, they cut off his
-head. His feast is solemnized with the utmost pomp in this
-diocese, on the fifth of September, which is believed to be the
-day of his martyrdom.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Oren belonged to a Spanish family of high rank, his father
-being the Duke of Urgel and Governor of Catalonia. He early
-renounced his right of heritage, but, after the death of his
-brother, succeeded to the family estates. He sold all his
-property, distributed the money among the poor, and retired to a
-hermitage amidst the mountains of Bigorre, where he led an
-angelic life, giving himself up to severe austerities and the
-contemplation of divine things. The renown of his virtues and his
-reputation for learning caused his nomination to this see, of
-which he reluctantly took possession in the year 400. He
-displayed extraordinary energy and zeal in rooting out the
-vestiges of idolatry still lingering in his diocese, and in
-reviving true piety among the lukewarm of his flock.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Oren was a learned man and a poet. The great Fortunatus,
-Bishop of Poitiers, who lived in the sixth century, mentions his
-poems, of which some fragments have come down to us. His
-<i>Nomenclature</i>, in particular, has always been known and
-quoted. It is more extensive than any other ancient list of the
-symbols of the God-Man. Sylvius, in the fifth century, gives
-forty-five of these symbolical names in seven verses. Clement of
-Alexandria, in his hymn to our Saviour, gives ten. St. Cyril
-mentions twelve, in a sermon.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_832">{832}</a></span>
-The list of St. Phébade of Agen, in the fourth century, comprises
-twenty-one. The <i>Nomenclature</i> of Constantinople mentions
-twelve; that of Rome, twenty-two; but that of St. Oren, composed
-in his solitude of Bigorre, gives, in five distichs, fifty-two of
-these emblematical names of our Saviour. I quote it entire:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  De Epithetis Salvatoris Nostri.
-
-    Janua,
-    Virgo,
-    Leo,
-    Sapientia,
-    Verbum,
-    Rex,
-    Baculus,
-    Princeps,
-    Dux,
-    Petra,
-    Pastor,
-    Homo,
-    Retia,
-    Sol,
-    Sponsus,
-    Semen,
-    Mons,
-    Stella,
-    Magister,
-    Margarita,
-    Dies,
-    Agnus,
-    Ovis,
-    Vitulus,
-    Thesaurus,
-    Fons,
-    Vita,
-    Manus,
-    Caput,
-    Ignis,
-    Aratrum,
-    Flos,
-    Lapis angularis,
-    Dextra,
-    Columba,
-    Puer,
-    Vitis,
-    Adam,
-    Digitus,
-    Speculum,
-    Via,
-    Botryo,
-    Panis,
-    Hostia,
-    Lex,
-    Ratio,
-    Virga,
-    Piscis,
-    Aquila,
-    Justus,
-    Progenies regis,
-    regisque Sacerdos;
-    Nomina Magna Dei,
-    major at ipse Deus.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-"These are the great names of God, but he himself is still far
-greater!" says the last line.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Oren never lost his love for solitude, and this attraction,
-added to the burden of his episcopal duties, induced him at last
-to resume his hermit's staff and set out for the grotto, which
-had been the witness of his former austerities and was the
-never-ceasing object of his regret. His flock, in consternation,
-pursued him and brought him back to his post, where his piety,
-his talents, and the miracles he wrought, gave him preeminence
-among all the bishops of Aquitaine. When Theodoric I., King of
-the Visigoths, was besieged at Toulouse, by Lictorius, lieutenant
-of the celebrated Aétius, the former sent St. Oren, with several
-other bishops, to arrange terms of peace with the Roman
-commander. Lictorius received them with haughty contempt, and,
-sure of victory, rejected all their propositions. Then Theodoric
-humbled himself before the Lord of Hosts. He covered himself with
-sackcloth, prostrated himself in prayer, and then went forth to
-battle and to victory.
-</p>
-<p>
-Shortly after this embassy, St. Oren felt his end approaching,
-and armed himself with the holy sacraments for the last earthly
-combat. His soul passed away, with a sweet odor, on the first of
-May, and his body was enshrined in the church of St. John, which
-subsequently took his name. He has always been greatly venerated
-in this country, and is invoked in all diseases of the mind.
-Count John I. of Armagnac gave a magnificent silver bust as a
-reliquary for the skull of St. Oren. His feast is still
-religiously celebrated, and is a great holiday among the common
-people, who assemble after vespers to dance their <i>rondeaux</i>
-in the open air.
-</p>
-<p>
-The church of St. John, where reposed a long line of holy
-apostles and prelates, was, with the two cities, destroyed by the
-Saracens, in the eighth century. But in the year of grace 956, as
-I have said, Bernard le Louche, inspired by God, built on the
-same spot a magnificent church with three naves, to which he
-joined a Benedictine abbey. They were built of the stones of the
-city walls, which, two centuries before, had been levelled to the
-dust by the Moors. A hundred years later, this abbey was reduced
-to a priory by St. Hugo, and affiliated to his abbey at Cluny.
-The names of a long succession of abbots and priors are recorded
-in the chronicles of St. Oren's Priory, most of whom belonged to
-the noblest families of the country. During the French Revolution
-of 1793, the abbatial church and a part of the monastery were,
-alas! destroyed; but there is a quadrangular tower&mdash;a part of the
-original abbey&mdash;still standing, and a fine Gothic chapel, which
-dates from the fourteenth century, besides a more modern, and
-still large, edifice, with long dim corridors leading away to
-austere cells, or to spacious sunny <i>salons</i>. These were
-taken possession of by a venerable community of Ursuline nuns,
-who had been dispersed during the Reign of Terror, but who, as
-soon as permitted, hastened like doves to find a new ark.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_833">{833}</a></span>
-<p>
-A steep spiral staircase, of hewn stone, lighted only by long
-narrow chinks left purposely in the thick walls, leads to the top
-of the old tower, which commands a delightful view of the valley
-of the Algersius. At the foot, toward the south, lies the convent
-garden, with its wells, its almond-trees, acacias, vines, and
-rose-bushes&mdash;loved haunts of the nightingales, which I heard
-there for the first time in my life. On the east passes the
-<i>route impériale</i>, beneath the very convent walls, and
-beyond, parallel with it, flows the river which gives its name to
-the <i>département</i>. Centuries ago, when the country was more
-thickly wooded, it is said to have been a navigable river, and
-merited to be sung by Fortunatus, who was a poet as well as
-bishop. The eastern bank is shaded by a long grove of noble
-trees&mdash;a public promenade&mdash;where, at due hours, may be seen all
-the fashion, valor, and sanctity of the city. Through the trees
-may be caught a glimpse of an old Franciscan monastery, now an
-asylum for the insane, where once stood a temple of Bacchus,
-whose memory is still perpetuated in this land of vineyards.
-There, in the fourteenth century, was buried Reine, niece of Pope
-Clement V., and wife of John I., the thirteenth Comte d'Armagnac.
-Near by is the airy tower of St. Pierre, first built by St.
-Saturnin, in the third century, and rebuilt several times
-since&mdash;the last time, after its destruction by the Huguenots in
-the civil and religious disturbances of the sixteenth century.
-The music of its <i>carillon</i> floats through the valley at an
-early hour every morning, summoning the devout to mass.
-</p>
-<p>
-Cradling the valley toward the west is the quaint old city. Its
-houses of cream-colored stone with red tiled roofs rise one
-behind the other on terraces, and, crowning all, are the towers
-of one of the finest cathedrals of France.
-</p>
-<p>
-Due east from the tower, in the background, rises a high hill,
-called in the time of the Romans Mount Nerveva, but which now
-glories in the more Christian appellation of Mount St. Cric.
-There our glorious St. Oren battered down a temple of Apollo, but
-its summit is still lit up by that god at each return of hallowed
-morn.
-</p>
-<p>
-Away to the south stretch the Pyrenees, hiding Catholic and
-chivalric Spain, and gleaming in the sun like the very walls of
-the celestial city. Even Maldetta, with its name of ill omen,
-looks pure and holy.
-</p>
-<p>
-This old tower is for me a loved haunt on a bright sunny day. I
-often betake myself to its top to enjoy all the reveries inspired
-by the scene before me. Its venerable, almost crumbling walls,
-its curious recesses and carvings, speak loudly of the monks of
-old. There I seem nearer to heaven; I breathe a purer, a more
-refined atmosphere, which exalts the heart and quickens its
-vibrations.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is a large sunny apartment in the tower in which I
-witnessed a most affecting event&mdash;the death of a nun. So
-impressed was I by this flight of an angelic soul to the
-everlasting embraces of the Spouse of virgins, that I cannot
-refrain from giving you a sketch of its closing scenes.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_834">{834}</a></span>
-<p>
-When I first arrived at the priory, poor Sister Saint Sophie
-wandered around like a ghost, already far gone with pulmonary
-consumption. She entered the cloister while only seventeen years
-of age, wishing to offer the flower of her life to him who loves
-the fragrance of an innocent heart. Now, at the age of
-twenty-eight, she was called to exchange the holy chants of the
-choir for the divine <i>Trisagium</i> of the redeemed above. Her
-health had long been delicate; but the innocence of her soul, the
-natural calmness of her disposition, her strong religious faith,
-and her detachment from earth, made her look forward to death
-without the slightest apprehension. She spoke of the event as she
-would of going to the chapel where dwells the Beloved.
-</p>
-<p>
-About a week before her death, she went to the infirmary, by her
-own request&mdash;to die. The infirmary is a commodious apartment in
-the second story of the tower, a room which most of the nuns
-shrink from approaching, for there they have seen so many of
-their sisters die. I went every day to see poor Sister Sophie.
-The room was adorned with religious engravings, a crucifix, a
-statue of the Madonna, and a holy-water font. On the mantel were
-some books of devotion, among which I noticed the New Testament
-in French. I always found this dying sister calm, excepting one
-evening, when her cheeks glowed with a burning fever. It was only
-a few days before her death, and was caused by her last struggle
-with earth. When that was past, she was ready to die. Her sister,
-longing to see her once more, had obtained permission of the
-ecclesiastical superiors to enter the monastery. But Sister
-Sophie, wishing to avail herself of this last opportunity of
-self-sacrifice, opposed her entrance; and it was this struggle
-between natural affection and a sense of duty which produced so
-violent a fever. This act of self-denial affected me deeply.
-</p>
-<p>
-One Saturday, at about half-past eight in the morning, I was
-hastily summoned by the Mère St. J&mdash;&mdash; to go to the infirmary,
-for Sister Sophie was dying. I hurried down. Poor Sophie lay,
-ghastly white, with her crucifix in her hands. Her rosary and
-girdle lay, on the bed, at the foot of which was placed an
-engraving of the Sacred Heart of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the
-opening of which reposed a dove&mdash;emblem of the soul that trusts
-in the Saviour. She was perfectly calm. There was not a sign of
-apprehension. Her brother-in-law, who was her physician, stood by
-her bedside, and said she could not survive the day. Her
-confessor, the Abbé de B&mdash;&mdash;, a venerable priest of more than
-four score years, asked if she had any thing on her conscience.
-She shook her head. Her soul was clad in its pure bridal robe,
-ready for the marriage supper of the Lamb. All went to the
-chapel, and, with lighted tapers, two and two, followed the holy
-viaticum to the infirmary. It was borne by the <i>curé</i> in a
-silver ciborium, and placed on an altar erected in the middle of
-the room. It was a most solemn scene&mdash;the nuns kneeling all
-around with wax tapers in their hands, their heads bowed down in
-adoration, and their black robes and veils flowing around them,
-all responding to the priest, who, in white surplice and stole,
-brought comfort to the dying. He demanded of the dying nun a
-profession of her faith; if she died in charity with all mankind;
-and if she were sorry, and begged pardon of God, for all her
-sins&mdash;to which she faintly but distinctly responded. He then gave
-her the divine viaticum, and prepared to administer to her the
-sacrament of extreme unction.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_835">{835}</a></span>
-As he anointed each organ, he said, before repeating the formula
-of the church, "O God! forgive me the sins I have committed by
-<i>such an organ</i>," (of sight, hearing, etc.) After this
-sacrament he accorded her the plenary indulgence of Bona Mors. I
-was very much affected by these holy rites, and the more so as I
-then witnessed them for the first time.
-</p>
-<p>
-I went to see the departing sister several times in the course of
-the day. The death-struggle was long, but there was no appearance
-of suffering.
-</p>
-<p>
-At eight o'clock in the evening, while we were reading the
-meditation for the following morning, a nun came in haste.
-"Quick! quick! pray for Sister Sophie. She is dying!" In a moment
-the infirmary was crowded with nuns. Sister Sophie was in her
-agony. The crucifix was still in her hand. A blessed candle of
-pure white wax was burning beside her, and the sub-prioress was
-reading solemn prayers for the departing soul, to which the nuns
-sobbingly responded. At the head of her bed stood a sister, who
-sprinkled her from time to time with holy water. Near her stood
-another prompting pious aspirations: "Jesus! Mary! Joseph! may I
-breathe out my soul with you in peace!"
-</p>
-<p>
-At half-past eight she had given up her soul as calmly as if
-going to sleep. The <i>Sub-venite</i> was said, and then we all
-went to the chapel to pray for the departed.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next morning, (Sunday,) on my way to the chapel, I stopped at
-the infirmary. Sister Sophie was lying on a bier, clad in her
-religious habit, with the sacred veil upon her head, and in her
-clasped hands a crucifix, and the vows which bound her to the
-Spouse of virgins. Her countenance was expressive of happiness
-and repose. A wax candle burned on each side of her head. A
-holy-water font stood near, and some nuns knelt around, praying
-for their departed sister. That day, masses were offered for her
-in every church and chapel in the city, and at a later hour the
-nuns said the office of the dead in choir. At four o'clock, I
-went again to the infirmary, to see her placed in her coffin. I
-have witnessed among those who are vowed to a life of holy
-poverty many examples of detachment from every thing the world
-deems essential, but I have never seen any thing which so went to
-my heart as when I saw Sister Sophie's coffin. It was simply a
-long deal box, unpainted and without lining. The body was placed
-therein, still in the religious costume. The black veil covered
-the face, and on her head was a wreath of white flowers. How
-bitterly did the nuns weep as they placed their sister in her
-narrow cell&mdash;even more austere than that in which she had lived!
-I too wept profusely to see one buried thus humbly, but perhaps
-suitably. The lid being nailed down, the coffin was covered with
-a pall, on which was a great white cross, and on it the novices
-spread garlands of fresh white flowers mingled with green leaves.
-</p>
-<p>
-The nuns are buried in the cemetery of St. Oren's parish, and
-nothing is more affecting than when, at the portal of the
-convent, the coffin is entrusted to the hands of strangers; the
-nuns not being able to go beyond the limits of the cloister. It
-is then conveyed to the exterior church. Several priests received
-Sister Sophie at the door, and sprinkled the coffin with holy
-water, chanting meanwhile the <i>De Profundis</i> and <i>Requiem
-aeternam</i>. How awfully solemn are these chants of the dead!
-Every tone went to my very heart. The coffin was then borne to
-the centre of the church, where it was surrounded by lights, and
-the priests chanted the office for the dead, at the close of
-which they went in procession to the cemetery.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_836">{836}</a></span>
-First were three acolytes, the middle one bearing an immense
-silver cross, which gleamed aloft in the departing sunlight; and
-the other two bore the censer and the <i>bénitier;</i> then came
-the priests, two and two, chanting the <i>Miserere</i>. The
-coffin followed, borne on a bier by six peasant women dressed in
-white, with curious white caps and kerchiefs. Their sepulchral
-appearance made me shudder. Then went four young ladies bearing a
-pall, on which was the great white cross and the significant
-death's-head. Many other ladies followed in procession. Arriving
-at the cemetery, the grave was blessed, while we all knelt about
-it. Water that had been sanctified with prayer was sprinkled on
-the fresh earth; clouds of incense rose from the smoking censer,
-and <i>Ego sum resurrectio et vita</i> burst in solemn
-intonations from the lips of the priests. Then the coffin was
-lowered into the grave; the young ladies threw in garlands of
-flowers which were soon covered. Poor Sophie was at rest, and her
-soul was enjoying the reward of her sacrifices. I bedewed her
-grave with my tears. Never was I so peculiarly affected by any
-death as by this, every circumstance of which is fastened most
-vividly in my memory. The <i>De Profundis</i> and the
-<i>Miserere</i> still ring in my ear, and poor Sister Sophie, as
-she lay in her agony, surrounded by the spouses of Christ,
-praying amid their sobs, for her admittance into Paradise, will
-never be forgotten. "<i>Requiescat in pace!</i>"
-</p>
-<p>
-But of all parts of the priory, I love best the antique chapel of
-the Immaculate Conception. It is entered through the cloister by
-a low, dim vestibule, supported by "ponderous columns, short and
-low." A few steps, and the arches spring lightly up, forming a
-perfect gem of a Gothic chapel, with its altar faithful to the
-east&mdash;
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Mindful of Him who, in the Orient born,
-     There lived, and on the cross his life resigned,
-   And who, from out the regions of the morn,
-     Issuing in pomp, shall come to judge mankind."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Three ogival windows in the chancel throw on the pavement the
-warm gules of an escutcheon emblazoned on the glass. They diffuse
-not too strong a light&mdash;only enough for a glow around the
-tabernacle, leaving the rest of the chapel in a shade that
-disposes the heart to contemplation and prayer. In the morning,
-at mass, the rising sun streams through, mingling with the light
-of the tapers, like that of nature and grace in the hearts of the
-worshippers. Over the altar, in a niche, is a statue of Mary Most
-Pure, with the divine Babe in her arms&mdash;as I love to see all her
-statues, that the remembrance of the Blessed Virgin may never be
-disconnected from that of the Incarnation. "The Madonna and
-Child&mdash;a subject so consecrated by antiquity," says Mrs. Jameson,
-"so hallowed by its profound significance, so endeared by its
-associations with the softest and deepest of our human
-sympathies, that the mind has never wearied of its repetition,
-nor the eye become satiated with its beauty. Those who refuse to
-give it the honor due to a religious representation yet regard it
-with a tender, half-unwilling homage, and when the glorified type
-of what is purest, loftiest, holiest, in womanhood stands before
-us, arrayed in all the majesty that accomplished art, inspired by
-faith and love, could lend her, and bearing her divine Son,
-rather enthroned than sustained, on her maternal bosom,'we look,
-and the heart is in heaven!' and it is difficult, very difficult,
-to refrain from an 'Ora pro nobis!'"
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_837">{837}</a></span>
-<p>
-In this chapel Mary has been honored for ages. The chronicles of
-the priory tell us that in the days of the monks of St. Benedict
-crowds of the faithful filled, as now, this chapel on the eighth
-of December, its patronal <i>féte</i>. The deep-toned voices that
-then chanted the praises of Mary have died away, but the notes
-have been caught up and continued in softer, sweeter tones by the
-lips of the spouses of Christ.
-</p>
-<p>
-I can never enter this chapel without a thrill. I love to linger
-beneath its vault of stone, the arches of which spring from
-corbells quaintly sculptured, and form, at their intersection,
-medallions of Jesus and Mary, who look benignly down on the
-suppliant beneath. Prostrate on the pavement which holy knees
-have worn, and breathing an air perfumed by the prayers of
-centuries, my mind goes back to former times, and I think of the
-cowled monks who once bowed in prayer before the same altar, and
-murmured the same prayers I so love to repeat:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Their book they read and their beads they told,
-   To human softness dead and cold,
-       And all life's vanity."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-I must tell you something of St. Mary's Cathedral, which is the
-glory of this place. You should see it from our garden, crowning
-this city built upon a hill, with its towers and pinnacles. It is
-perfectly majestic. There, on the same spot, before the
-Incarnation, stood a temple of Venus. Christianity, which always
-loved to sanctify these high places, made the lascivious Venus
-yield to the Mother of pure love. Toward the end of the third
-century, St. Taurin brought a venerated statue of our Lady from
-Eauze, and erected a chapel here in her honor. It was not till
-about the year 800 that a cathedral was erected in the same
-place. It has been four times demolished, and as often rebuilt.
-In 1793, it was preserved with great difficulty. During that time
-it served as a prison for many of the <i>noblesse</i>, and was
-stripped of many of its most precious ornaments. The holy image
-of Mary was superseded by the Goddess of Reason, and horses were
-stabled in its chapels. But one does not love to linger over such
-profanation.
-</p>
-<p>
-This cathedral is particularly remarkable for the carvings of the
-choir and for the fine stained-glass windows of the Renaissance.
-Wishing to examine it minutely, I obtained permission to visit it
-at those hours when it is closed&mdash;that is, from noon till three
-o'clock. Accompanied by a servant, I was there precisely at
-twelve. The Angelus bell pealed forth just as I entered the
-church, and
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop
-   Sprinkles the congregation and scatters blessings upon them."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The <i>Suisse</i>, who was an old soldier under Napoleon I., and
-was in the Russian campaign, locked us in, free to wander at will
-and unremarked in this vast cathedral, with the excellent
-<i>Monographie</i> by the learned Abbé Canéto in hand. At the
-very portal we passed over the tomb of an old archbishop, who
-wished through humility to be buried under the pavement of the
-principal entrance to the church, that he might be trodden under
-foot by all men. Perhaps there was something of natural instinct
-in this choice. I know not whether I should prefer some quiet and
-shady nook for my grave, or a great thoroughfare like this, with
-the almost constant ring of human feet above my head. This
-prelate has lain there about two centuries, "awaiting," as the
-inscription says, "the resurrection of the dead."
-</p>
-<p>
-We entered the church beneath the tribune of the organ, a fine
-instrument&mdash;the master-piece of Joyeuse, a famous organ-maker of
-the time of Louis XIV. On its front panels are beautifully
-carved, <i>en relief</i>, St. Cecilia and the Royal Harper.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_838">{838}</a></span>
-<p>
-The whole building is over three hundred feet long. Four rows of
-pillars divide it into three naves and collateral chapels, which
-are twenty-one in number, extending quite around it, each with
-paintings, and statues, and altars of marble, and its oaken
-confessional,
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Where the graveyard in the human heart
-    Gives up its dead at the voice of the priest."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-The baptismal font, in the first chapel to the left, is of a
-single block of fine black Belgian marble. One lingers
-reverentially before it, to think of all the souls that have
-there been regenerated, and of the holy joy of the guardian
-angels around it.
-</p>
-<p>
-The windows are glorious in their effect. Thereon are represented
-all the principal characters of the Bible, beginning with Adam
-and Eve; interspersed are the sibyls <i>(Teste David cum
-sibylla)</i> and saints of the middle ages. The bright sun,
-streaming through these "storied windows richly dight," revealing
-in brightest hues "many a prophet, many a saint," casts a rich
-light of purple and crimson and gold over altar and saint and
-shrine; not the <i>dim</i> religious light of the poets, but
-bright and glorious as the rainbow that spans the Eternal Throne!
-I could sit in their light for ever. What a beautiful missal,
-gorgeously illuminated, they form for the common people, and a
-book ever open, full of the beauty of holiness! I envy those who
-have worshipped in such a church from infancy, whose minds and
-tastes have been formed, in part, by its influences, whose
-earliest religious associations are connected with so much that
-is beautiful as well as elevating. There must be a certain tone
-to their piety, as well as to their minds, wanting to those who
-have only frequented the humbler chapels of the new world. I can
-never enter the plainest Catholic church without emotion. The
-very sight of a humble altar surmounted by the rudest cross, goes
-to my heart; how much more a magnificent church like this, where
-every thing appeals to the heart, the soul, the imagination!
-</p>
-<p>
-Over the doors leading to the transepts are the rose-windows.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Flamboyant with a thousand gorgeous colors,
-   The perfect flower of Gothic loveliness!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Beyond the transepts is the choir&mdash;a church within a church; for
-it is enclosed by a high wall with a screen and rood-loft in
-front. Here the canons chant the divine office seven times a day.
-The stalls in which they sit are fit for princes&mdash;each one a
-marvellous piece of workmanship, like the handiwork of a fairy
-rather than of man.
-</p>
-<p>
-The panels with their large figures in relief, the Gothic niches
-with their statuettes, the desks all covered with carved animals
-and plants almost in the perfection of nature, the canopy with
-its hangings, beautiful as lace, are all perfectly wrought in
-black oak, and surpass all conception. I have heard it said the
-wood was kept under water twenty years, and the carver was fifty
-years in completing his work; and you would believe it could you
-see the effect. I have seen finer churches, in some respects, but
-no carvings to surpass these. One is never weary of examining
-every inch of this exquisite choir, so full of perfection is
-every part. Sacred and profane history, mythological and
-legendary lore, the fauna and flora, are all mingled in these
-stalls. There are one hundred and thirteen of them&mdash;sixty-seven
-superior, and forty-six inferior; and three hundred and six
-statuettes in wonderful little Gothic niches. Each superior stall
-has its large panel, on which in demi-relief is the image of some
-saint or sibyl.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_839">{839}</a></span>
-One of them represents St. Martha of Bethany, with an
-<i>aspersoir</i> in her hand and the <i>Tarasque</i> at her feet,
-alluding to the old legend so popular in Provence, of her
-subduing a monster which ravaged the banks of the Rhone by
-sprinkling him with holy water. The city of Tarascon commemorates
-the tradition. A magnificent church built there, under the
-invocation of St. Martha, was endowed by Louis XI.
-</p>
-<p>
-At three o'clock the canons came for vespers, after which we went
-to the tower to see the view and examine the bells, the largest
-of which is covered with medallions of the apostles and the
-Blessed Virgin, and with mottoes. It bears the name of Mary.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "These bells have been anointed
-   And baptized with holy water."
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-Perhaps you do not know that in the ceremony of consecrating a
-bell, the bishop prays that, as the voice of Christ appeased the
-troubled waters, God would endow the sound of the bell with power
-to avert the malign influence of the great enemy; that it may
-possess the power of David's harp, which dispelled the dark cloud
-from the soul of Saul; and that at its sound hosts of angels may
-surround the assembled multitudes, preserve their souls from
-temptation and defend their bodies from all danger. The smaller
-bells are rung daily for the Angelus and ordinary occasions. The
-tones of the great Bourdon are reserved for the grand festivals
-of Christmas, Easter, etc. I was curious to see them, for they
-are like friends from whom we have had many kind tokens, but have
-never met. They are always ringing above the priory; and their
-tones say so many things to our hearts&mdash;solemn and funereal, or
-tender, or joyful. "There is something beautiful in the
-church-bell," says Douglas Jerrold&mdash;"beautiful and hopeful. They
-talk to the high and low, rich and poor, in the same voice. There
-is a sound in them that should scare away envy and pride and
-meanness of all sorts from the heart of man; that should make him
-look on the world with kind, forgiving eyes; that should make the
-earth itself seem, to him at least, a holy place. Yes, there is a
-whole sermon in the very sound of the church-bells, if we only
-have the ears to understand it." As Longfellow says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "For the bells themselves are the best of preachers; Their
-  brazen lips are learned teachers. From their pulpits of stone
-  in the upper air, Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw,
-  Shriller than trumpets under the law, Now a sermon and now a
-  prayer. The clamorous hammer is the tongue; This way, that way,
-  beaten and swung, That from mouth of brass, as from mouth of
-  gold, May be taught the Testaments, New and Old: And above it
-  the great cross-beam of wood Representeth the holy rood, Upon
-  which, like the bell, our hopes are hung. And the wheel
-  wherewith it is swayed and rung Is the mind of man, that round
-  and round Sways, and maketh the tongue to sound! And the rope,
-  with its twisted cordage three, Denoteth the scriptural Trinity
-  Of morals, and symbols, and history; And the upward and
-  downward motions show That we touch upon matters high and low:
-  And the constant change and transmutation Of action and of
-  contemplation, Downward, the Scripture brought from on high;
-  Upward, exalted again to the sky; Downward, the literal
-  interpretation, Upward, the vision and mystery!"
-</p>
-<p>
-In the undercroft of the cathedral reposes, among other saints,
-the body of St. Léothade. He was of royal blood, being a near
-relative of Eudes, Duke of Aquitaine, who was of the race of
-Clotaire II. He was also related to Charles Martel, and to the
-well-known sylvan saint, Hubert, who was contemporary with St.
-Léothade, and a native of this part of France. St. Léothade
-embraced the monastic state early in life, and, after being abbot
-at Moissac, was called to govern this diocese, which he did for
-twenty-seven years. In the wars between Charles Martel and Eudes
-he retired into Burgundy, his native place, where he died at the
-beginning of the eighth century. His body was reclaimed by the
-Auscitains.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_840">{840}</a></span>
-His tomb is all sculptured with the symbols of our Saviour&mdash;the
-fish, wine, etc.
-</p>
-<p>
-St. Léothade is invoked in various diseases, particularly for
-epilepsy.
-</p>
-<p>
-Through the kindness of the <i>mère prieure</i> I had the
-privilege of assisting at the office of Holy Week at St. Mary's
-Cathedral. I witnessed all those affecting rites from the
-<i>jubé</i>, or rood-loft, which is reached by a dark, winding
-stairway in one of the huge pillars. My position was one of
-seclusion, and yet overlooked both the choir and the nave. To
-fully appreciate the ceremonies of the church, one must witness
-them in one of these old churches of the middle ages, to which
-they seem adapted. The long procession of white-robed clergy,
-through the forest of columns, with palm branches in their hands;
-"Hosanna to the son of David!" resounding through the arches; the
-tapers, rich vestments, the heavenly light streaming through the
-stained-glass windows, not dimly, but like a very rainbow of hope
-encircling us all&mdash;impress the heart with sentiments of profound
-devotion.
-</p>
-<p>
-I was particularly struck by the vivid picture of the Passion
-given in the gospel of Palm-Sunday, as sung by the choir. One
-priest chanted the historical parts in a recitative way; a
-second, the words of our Lord; and a third, the words of the
-disciples and others. The insolent cries of the multitude, the
-confident tones of St. Peter, the loud bold tones of Judas, were
-well reproduced; while the sacred words of Christ were repeated
-in the clearest, calmest, most subdued and plaintive of accents,
-that sank into my soul and moved me to tears. That voice seemed
-to sweep over the sea of surging hearts that filled the church,
-like the very voice of Jesus calming the tempest on the lake! It
-rung in my heart for days. It rings there yet, a sermon more
-powerful than any man could preach. When the priest comes to the
-words, "<i>and gave up the ghost</i>," the sight of the vast
-multitude prostrating to the ground is most impressive.
-</p>
-<p>
-The gospel of the Passion, succeeding the triumphant procession
-with the palm branches, becomes doubly impressive by the
-contrast. "Oh! what a contrast," cries St. Bernard, "between
-'<i>Tolle, tolle, crucifige eum</i>,' and '<i>Benedictus qui
-venit in nomine Domini, Hosanna in Excelsis!</i>' What a contrast
-between '<i>King of Israel</i>,' and '<i>We have no king but
-Caesar!</i>' Between the green branches and the cross! Between
-the flowers and the thorns! Between taking off their garments to
-cast before him, and stripping him of his own and casting lots
-for them!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The nave was one forest of waving green branches, and the common
-people seemed to enter into and enjoy the ceremonies very
-heartily. These grand services give such a vivid idea of the
-great events of the life of Christ that they must be very
-beneficial to the people, who come in throngs to witness them;
-and there are no pews here, with their invidious distinctions, to
-shut them out. The peasant and the nobleman are brought on a
-level in that place where alone is to be found true
-democracy&mdash;the Church.
-</p>
-<p>
-The archbishop presided at these ceremonies, a venerable,
-austere-looking prelate, who moved about with gravity, always
-attended by his servant, a pale, cadaverous-looking man in black,
-with a white cravat, reminding me so forcibly of one of our New
-England ministers that I never could resist a smile when my eye
-fell on him, as he obediently followed the dignified prelate.
-</p>
-<p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_841">{841}</a></span>
-<p>
-St. Mary's Cathedral was once one of the richest in France, being
-endowed by the kings of Arragon, Navarre, and of France, and by
-the Counts of Fezensac and of Armagnac. In those days the
-archbishop was a magnate in the land. The Counts of Armagnac paid
-homage to him, and when he came to take possession of his see,
-the Baron de Montaut, with bared head and one limb bare, awaited
-him on foot at the gates of the city, took his mule by the
-bridle, and so conducted him to the cathedral. He was then, as he
-styles himself now, primate of Novempopulania and of the two
-Navarres.
-</p>
-<p>
-One of the old archbishops, of the race of the Counts d'Aure,
-accompanied Richard the Lion-hearted to Palestine in 1190, and
-died there the next year.
-</p>
-<p>
-On Holy Thursday all business was suspended. The streets were
-crowded with people going to visit the different churches where
-the Blessed Sacrament was exposed. I visited fourteen churches
-and chapels. At every turn in the streets were boys erecting
-little altars and chapels by the way-side, and importuning the
-passer-by for a <i>sou</i> to aid in fitting them up. Of course,
-I saw the greater part of the city, which is picturesque, as seen
-from the valley, but rather ugly when one has mounted the weary
-flights of steps, and gained its heart. The streets are mostly
-narrow and treeless, but there are two promenades with fine old
-trees, and the public buildings are a credit to the place. There
-is a <i>grand</i> and <i>petit séminiaire</i> here, a lyceum,
-normal school, two boarding-schools, besides several day and free
-schools; so there is no lack for means of instruction.
-</p>
-<p>
-The famous Nostradamus, renowned for his <i>Centuries
-prophétiques</i>, was once a professor in this place. And St.
-Francis Regis was regent of the Jesuits' college which was here
-before the suppression of that order in the last century.
-</p>
-<p>
-On Good-Friday I went to the chapel of the Carmelites, for the
-Three Hours' Agony. Daylight was wholly excluded. The altar was
-fitted up like a Calvary, with a large crucifix on the summit.
-Tall wax candles burned around it as round a bier. The rest of
-the chapel was in darkness. The black grating that separates the
-chancel from the choir of the nuns was so closely curtained that
-they were wholly invisible. The agony was a paraphrase of the
-last words of our Saviour upon the cross, making it like seven
-discourses, or rather meditations. At the end of each part all
-knelt, while the preacher made an extempore prayer, and then rose
-a sweet solemn wail of music. One by one the lights around the
-Calvary were extinguished&mdash;a deeper gloom shrouding the chapel
-and settling on our hearts. At last, only one light was left,
-emblematic of Him who came to give light to the world. That, too,
-went out at three o'clock, leaving us in utter darkness. Then the
-preacher cried: <i>Jesus is dying!&mdash;Jesus is dead!</i> All fell
-on their knees. The most profound silence reigned. When
-sufficiently recovered from the awe and solemnity which pervaded
-every heart, all prostrated themselves, and softly left the
-church. The effect was indescribable. Nothing could so powerfully
-incite the heart to repentance for sin, and unite it to the
-sufferings and death of Christ, as this three hours' meditation
-on his agony upon the cross.
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Holy Mother, pierce me through;
-   In my heart each wound renew
-   Of my Saviour crucified!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_842">{842}</a></span>
-<p>
-After the weight of sorrow that had been accumulating on the
-heart during the great week of the Passion, you cannot imagine
-the effect when, on Holy Saturday, the joyful Alleluias rang out
-with all the bells of the city, which had been hushed for days,
-announcing the Resurrection. A great rock seemed rolled away from
-the heart, and hope and joy rose triumphant over sorrow, and
-anguish, and fear.
-</p>
-<p>
-On Easter-Sunday I saw something at St. Mary's quite new to me.
-After mass, a basket of bread was blessed, broken in pieces, and
-passed around the church. All took a piece, made the sign of the
-cross, and said a short prayer before eating it. This <i>pain
-bénti</i> is in commemoration of the <i>Agapae</i> of the
-primitive Christians, I suppose. It is a common custom here.
-While still at our devotions, a man came around with a dish,
-saying in a queer, sing-song tone, <i>Pour les ámes du
-Purgatoire</i>, (For the souls in purgatory,) and offered the
-dish as if doing you a favor to receive your mite, which,
-perhaps, was right enough.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Last Sunday evening I went to St. Oren's parish church, to assist
-at the month of Mary. On each side of the pulpit is a large
-statue. One is of Moses, the Hebrew lawgiver, with two horns. He
-is often represented so by the old masters, because the same word
-which expresses the brightness of his face when he descended from
-the mount, may also be rendered horns. They give him a comical
-look, any thing but saint-like. Such a statue would seem more
-suitable, to my unaccustomed eyes, for some rural spot. Then it
-would look like some link between man and the lower animals, and
-so have some claims to our sympathy.
-</p>
-<p>
-I went into the sacristy to see the ivory horn said to have been
-used by St. Oren, in the fifth century, to call the people to the
-holy mysteries. It was still used, last century, during Holy
-Week. It is curiously carved in the Byzantine style, with leaves,
-birds, beasts, etc., upon it. It is popularly believed to have
-the power of restoring hearing to the deaf. In the sacristy was
-an old statue of St. Jago in a pilgrim's garb. In former times
-there was a hospice in this city for the reception of pilgrims to
-his shrine at Compostella.
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-In making some excavations in our grounds, where once were the
-cloisters of the monks, the workmen have found many old graves,
-and also some curiosities. The other day a marble slab was found,
-on which is a Latin inscription in quaint old characters, stating
-that it was erected by Amaneus II., an archbishop of this diocese
-in the thirteenth century. Beneath the inscription was carved a
-cross, on one side of which was a crosier, and on the other a
-leopard lion, the cognizance of the house of Armagnac. It bore
-the date of 1288. The said Amaneus was of the celebrated house of
-Armagnac, the head of which founded this priory. I should not be
-a true daughter of the house did I not, with pious memory, love
-to recall our benefactors, for, replacing the old monks, we take
-upon ourselves their sweet debt of gratitude. I will give you,
-then, an outline of this once proud family, that you may share
-all our glorious memories.
-</p>
-<p>
-The counts of Armagnac descended from the Merovingian race of
-kings. They were connected by marriage with the proudest families
-of Europe, and at one time they gave their name to a faction of
-France against the Burgundians. Their proud name and royal blood
-were fit to merge again into a race of kings.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_843">{843}</a></span>
-The first Count d'Armagnac was Bernard le Louche, who, through
-Charibert, sovereign of Toulouse and Aquitaine, descended from
-Clotaire II. Count Bernard was distinguished for his piety and
-his benefactions to the church. The third count of Armagnac
-divested himself of his worldly goods, and became a monk of the
-order of St. Benedict.
-</p>
-<p>
-The famous contest of the Armagnacs with the house of Foix began
-in the time of Bernard VI., the twelfth count. The pope in vain
-endeavored to reconcile them. Philippe of Navarre finally decided
-their differences, and peace was declared in 1329. The war was
-renewed some years after, in the time of Count John, who was
-taken prisoner, and had to pay a ransom of one thousand livres.
-</p>
-<p>
-Count Bernard VII. is the most famous of the Armagnacs. He was
-the fifteenth count. His daughter Bonne married Charles, Duke of
-Orleans, then only nineteen years of age, and the son of the Duc
-d'Orléans who was killed by Jean-sans-peur, Duke of Burgundy.
-Count Bernard became, by the youth of his son-in-law, the head of
-the Orleans faction against the Burgundians. He was made
-constable of France in 1415. To the dignity of supreme commander
-of the army was added in a short time that of prime minister.
-Descended from the old French monarchs, he had great sway in the
-south of France, and was one of the greatest warriors of his age.
-He displayed remarkable talents in remedying the frightful evils
-which broke out throughout the kingdom. His efforts would
-doubtless have been successful, had he not had to struggle
-against the Burgundian party. By his experience and firmness he
-established discipline among his troops, and kept them constantly
-ready for action. Active, intrepid, gifted with a bold and
-elevated character, he became a fearful rival for Jean-sans-peur.
-</p>
-<p>
-The numerous partisans of the latter, having succeeded in
-deceiving the vigilance of the constable, introduced the
-Burgundian troops into Paris in the middle of the night. The
-massacre of the principal royalists was the consequence, and the
-Count of Armagnac himself was slaughtered in the most frightful
-manner, on the 12th of June, 1418, in the fiftieth year of his
-age. He was concealed in the house of a mason. The Burgundians
-threatening the partisans of the Armagnacs with death and
-confiscation, the mason treacherously denounced his guest, who
-was immediately imprisoned in the <i>conciergerie</i>, amid the
-imprecations of a multitude of his enemies. Forcing themselves
-into the prison, they slew the count. In their fury they cut off
-a piece of his skin, two inches wide, from the right shoulder to
-the left side, in ridicule of the scarf which was the
-distinguishing badge of the Armagnacs. He was buried at St.
-Martin des Champs.
-</p>
-<p>
-His successor, Count John IV., greatly aided Charles VII. against
-the English, but finally offended him by desiring to marry the
-daughter of the King of England, and by styling himself, "<i>by
-the grace of God</i>, Count of Armagnac," though his ancestors
-had used the expression for six centuries.
-</p>
-<p>
-The haughty pretensions of the counts of Armagnac were the cause
-of their final ruin. King Louis XI., ever jealous of the claims
-of the nobility, decreed the downfall of their house. Count John
-V. was besieged at Lectoure, and obliged to capitulate. The
-soldiers entered the palace, ascended to the count's chamber, and
-slew him on the first Saturday in Lent, 1473. At the third blow
-he died, invoking the Virgin. All the people of Lectoure were
-massacred, and for two months wolves were the only inhabitants of
-the place.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_844">{844}</a></span>
-The lands of Count John were united to the crown of France. His
-brother Charles, who had been kept prisoner for fifteen years,
-was finally restored to liberty, and to the possession of the
-Comté d'Armagnac in 1483. He married Jane of Foix, who had no
-children; but he left a natural son, the Baron de Caussade, whose
-only son, George d'Armagnac, embraced the ecclesiastical state,
-and became a cardinal. He was the last of the male line of the
-Armagnacs.
-</p>
-<p>
-The Comté d'Armagnac was afterward given by Louis XII. as the
-dowry of his niece, Margaret of Valois, when she married Charles
-d'Alençon, the grandson of Marie d'Armagnac, daughter of Count
-John IV. Charles dying without children, Margaret married Henri
-d'Albret, King of Navarre, who descended from a daughter of Count
-Bernard VII. of Armagnac. Henri Quatre, King of France, was their
-grandson, and from his time the Comté d'Armagnac has been
-permanently united to the crown.
-</p>
-<p>
-Louis XIV., after consummating his marriage at St. Jean de Luz,
-returned to Paris through this city, where he assisted at the
-divine office in St. Mary's Cathedral, and, in quality of Count
-of Armagnac, took his place in his exquisitely carved stall as
-<i>chanoine honoraire</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-The stronghold of the Armagnacs was long since laid low. Their
-very name and blood are lost in those of another race, and their
-lands given to another; but still in the green valley of the
-Algersius rise the gray walls of a remnant of St. Oren's abbey to
-propitiate the mercy of God in behalf of Count Bernard and his
-lady Emerina, and still for them and their posterity goes up from
-the nuns in choir the daily "<i>Oremus pro benefactoribus
-nostris!</i>"
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-Last evening I went to the cathedral to hear Hermann improvise
-upon the organ, or, I should say, Frère Augustin, for he is a
-barefooted Carmelite monk. He was the favorite pupil of Liszt,
-under whose instructions he became a celebrated musical artist
-and composer. He was miraculously converted at Paris some years
-since, by some particular emanation from the blessed sacrament,
-the full particulars of which he has never given. "<i>Secretun
-meum mihi</i>," he says, when speaking of it. He had gone to
-church, at the request of a Christian friend, to play on the
-organ. His conversion was succeeded by the desire of becoming a
-monk, that he might daily receive our Lord in the blessed
-sacrament, to which, from the first, he felt the most tender
-devotion. He now belongs to a monastery in Agen. You should have
-heard him last night, as I did, amid a crowd of all ranks. I do
-not enjoy music scientifically, but it gives expression to a
-thousand emotions and desires which are floating in the soul, and
-which the tongue knows not how to express. That of Hermann
-partakes of the enthusiasm and tenderness of his nature.
-</p>
-<p>
-I stationed myself at the baptismal font, that I might see the
-frère as he came down from the tribune. He was dressed in the
-costume of his order, which is of the natural color of the wool.
-His cowl was thrown back. His head was shaven closely with the
-exception of a circlet of hair, as we see in pictures. He is an
-Israelite and his features are of the Jewish type, but not too
-strongly marked. His face was pale. In fact, he is out of health
-and on his way to a place of rest. His manner was refined but
-unpretending, and he seemed quite unconscious of the curiosity
-and interest displayed by the crowd.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_845">{845}</a></span>
-He is a poet as well as musician, and some of his
-<i>cantiques</i> in honor of the blessed sacrament are very
-beautiful, particularly the one entitled <i>Quam dilecta
-Tabernacula Tua!</i> I quote two verses from it:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  "Ils ne sont plus les jours de larmes:
-     J'ai retrouvé la paix du coeur
-   Depuis que j'ai goûté les charmes
-     Des tabernacles du Seigneur!
-
-  "Trop long-temps, brebis fugitive,
-     Je m'eloignai du Bon Pasteur.
-   Aujourd'hui, colombe plaintive,
-     Il l'appelle&mdash;il m'ouvre Son Coeur!"
-</pre>
-</div>
-<p>
-A friend sent me this morning a pamphlet containing the
-dedication of a collection of his hymns, which is a flame of
-love. I give you an extract, which is only the echo of my own
-heart:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "O adorable Jesus! as for me, whom thou hast led into solitude
-  to speak to my heart&mdash;for me whose days and nights glide
-  deliciously away in heavenly communications with thy adorable
-  presence; between the remembrance of the communion of to-day
-  and the hope of the communion of to-morrow, I embrace with
-  transport the walls of my cherished cell, where nothing
-  distracts my only thought from thee; where I breathe only love
-  for thy divine sacrament. &hellip; If the church did not teach me
-  that to contemplate thee in heaven is a still greater joy, I
-  should never believe there could be more happiness than I
-  experience in loving thee in the holy eucharist, and in
-  receiving thee in my heart, so poor by nature but so rich
-  through thy grace!"
-</p>
-<p class="center">
-      To Be Concluded Next Month.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-
-          <h2>The New Englander On<br>
-      The Moral Aspects Of Romanism.</h2>
-<br>
-<p>
-In <i>The Catholic World</i> of April last, we vindicated the
-fair fame of the Catholic Church from some foul aspersions of a
-Protestant minister, the Rev. M. Hobart Seymour, contained in a
-book of his entitled, <i>Nights among the Romanists</i>.
-</p>
-<p>
-The matter was a very simple one. This reverend gentleman, in the
-opening chapter of his book, gave us the "moral results of the
-Romish System," as he elegantly, in accordance with the
-exigencies of modern controversy, styles the Catholic Church.
-This "moral result" was, that Catholics are, everywhere, beyond
-comparison, more unchaste than Protestants&mdash;say from three or
-four to twelve times as much so. We do not exaggerate in the
-least. Every reader who reads this book will draw this
-conclusion. As <i>The New Englander</i> says, "The effect of this
-exhibit on the mind of the reader is overwhelming. To the
-Protestant reader it serves to close the case, at the outset,
-against the pretensions of the Roman Catholic Church to be the
-institution ordained of Christ to destroy the works of the
-devil."
-</p>
-<p>
-This conclusion was reached by a comparison of the statistics of
-many Roman Catholic countries of Europe with Protestant England,
-in regard to homicide.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then by comparing the amount of illegitimacy in certain Catholic
-<i>cities</i> with that in certain other Protestant <i>cities</i>
-in Europe. Passing by the first branch of the subject for reasons
-which we assigned, and which prevent us from taking up the matter
-now, we considered the second very fully and completely. We
-examined, with the utmost care and fidelity, the statistics of
-illegitimacy of all the leading countries of Europe, including
-the whole population of both city and country, and found Mr.
-Seymour's conclusions, in this respect, were utterly and
-completely false.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_846">{846}</a></span>
-The complete exhibit showed that, taking the number of
-illegitimate births as a standard of comparison, Catholic
-countries are not in any degree more unchaste than Protestant,
-but, on the contrary, the difference is in their favor quite
-decidedly, though not with that overwhelming preponderance
-claimed by Mr. Seymour in favor of Protestantism.
-</p>
-<p>
-He states that he has taken his figures from official documents,
-(and we have not disputed this,) but these same documents give
-the account for the countries as well as for the cities, and Mr.
-Seymour cannot be allowed to plead ignorance in reference to
-them. He cannot, therefore, be excused from wilful and deliberate
-deception, when he suppresses these statistics so necessary to
-form a judgment in the case, and only gives such portions of them
-as shall seem to sustain a false conclusion. This is the true
-<i>suppressio veri</i> and <i>suggestio falsi</i>, which is
-certainly one of the meanest and most cowardly forms of lying
-known.
-</p>
-<p>
-We felt a natural indignation at being made the victims of such
-treatment, and denounced the Rev. Mr. Seymour as a calumniator,
-and called on the Rev. L. W. Bacon, who had warmly recommended
-him and his book, to withdraw his recommendation, and cease to
-abet the circulation of a vile calumny, even though the Catholic
-Church were the object of it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Bacon, in reply to our article, comes out in <i>The New
-Englander</i>, endorsing not only the statements, but the unjust
-and wicked conclusions of Mr. Seymour, and claims to have refuted
-the statements of <i>The Catholic World</i>. We will now proceed
-to show in what fashion he has done this.
-</p>
-<p>
-The conclusions of Mr. Seymour in regard to the "moral results of
-the Romish system," rest mainly in a comparison of the city of
-London with the capitals of four Catholic countries, showing that
-while the rate of illegitimacy is only 4 per cent in the former,
-it varies from 33 to 51 per cent in the latter. This is
-reinforced by tables of ten Prussian cities (of which, by the by,
-the best two are Catholic cities) with ten Austrian; another of
-five English cities with the same number of Italian, with
-similar, though by no means such striking results. Then, lest
-countries should seem to get the go-by, various Protestant
-countries are compared with provinces of the Austrian empire,
-which, it is needless to say, make a bad show in the comparison.
-</p>
-<p>
-As we have said before, we did not impugn in <i>The Catholic
-World</i> the accuracy of these figures, but we pointed out that
-we could not trust them as indicating the morality of London,
-Liverpool, and the English cities, because the rate of
-illegitimacy in them was lower than in the whole of England; and
-it is a most violent and incredible supposition, that cities
-acknowledged to be the hotbeds of vice should be purer than the
-countries in which they are situated. We suggested that other
-forms of impurity had probably replaced illegitimacy, and that,
-after all, London, Liverpool, etc., were not much, if any, better
-than the continental cities. We quoted some figures in reference
-to the amount of what is called the "social evil" in London,
-etc., from <i>The Church and the World</i>, a ritualistic
-journal. This, and this alone, Mr. Bacon attacks, of all that is
-contained in our article. Our other reasons in regard to the
-morality of London, etc., are left entirely unnoticed. We gave
-also some, as we conceived, very grave and strong reasons why the
-figures of illegitimacy should not be regarded as conclusive in
-regard to the continental cities.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_847">{847}</a></span>
-We pointed out the existence of very large establishments in them
-for the reception of foundlings, receiving all infants deposited
-in them; and suggested that, for this reason alone, the
-illegitimacy of whole districts of country would all show itself
-in the city. This is obvious enough; for example, if a large
-hospital of this kind existed in New York City, no one doubts it
-would receive infants from New Jersey, Connecticut, and all the
-adjacent country, and the rate of illegitimacy would represent
-all this part of the country, rather than the city alone. Mr.
-Bacon has not vouchsafed to give one word of reply to all this,
-or to discuss the matter at all. Now, as it concerns the good
-name of a large class of his fellow-men, and is evidence in
-rebuttal of a very grave accusation against them, this really
-seems more like the conduct of a partisan determined on victory
-at any rate, rather than of a Christian gentleman seeking to
-vindicate a fellow-Christian from an imputation against his
-character.
-</p>
-<p>
-But whatever might be said about the comparative morality of
-certain cities, we vindicated the Catholic Church from the charge
-of having produced a moral result incomparably worse than
-Protestantism, and completely destroyed the overwhelming effect
-calculated to be produced on the Protestant mind by Mr. Seymour's
-conclusions, by giving one complete table of the percentage of
-illegitimacy in all the chief countries of Europe, both
-Protestant and Catholic, as follows:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td></td><td>Catholic Countries.</td><td></td></tr>
-<tr><td>1825-37</td><td>Kingdom of Sardinia</td><td>2.1</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1859</td><td>Spain</td>                 <td>5.6</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1853</td><td>Tuscany</td>               <td>6.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1858</td><td>Catholic Prussia</td>      <td>6.1</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1859</td><td>Belgium</td>               <td>7.4</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1856</td><td>Sicily</td>                <td>7.4</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1858</td><td>France</td>                <td>7.8</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1851</td><td>Austria</td><td>9.</td></tr>
-<tr><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr>
-<tr><td></td><td><i>Protestant Countries.</i>   </td><td></td></tr>
-<tr><td>1859</td><td>England and Wales</td>     <td>6.5</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1855</td><td>Norway</td>                <td>9.3</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1858</td><td>Protestant Prussia</td>    <td>9.3</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1855</td><td>Sweden</td>                <td>9.5</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1855</td><td>Hanover</td>               <td>9.9</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1866</td><td>Scotland</td>              <td>10.1</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1855</td><td>Denmark</td>               <td>11.5</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1838-47</td><td>Iceland</td>            <td>14</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1858</td><td>Saxony</td>                <td>16.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>1857</td><td>Wurtemberg</td>            <td>16.1</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-Every item of which was taken by ourselves, after a patient and
-minute examination, from the <i>Journals of the Statistical
-Society of London</i>, in the Astor Library, taking the latest
-accounts of each country in every case.
-</p>
-<p>
-Here the whole question lies in a nut-shell. As Mr. Bacon says,
-"the criterion is in the number of illegitimate births." This
-table gives a complete view of this criterion, and therefore it
-requires to be refuted before it can be said that any refutation
-has been made of <i>The Catholic World</i>. How does Mr. Bacon
-meet it?
-</p>
-<p>
-He does not meet it at all. He says that the figures of <i>The
-Catholic World</i> are "outrageously false," and "that he shall
-presently prove it." We have looked in vain for the proof that
-any figure of this table is either "outrageously false" or false
-at all. We do not see that he has said one word to bring any of
-them under even the least shadow of suspicion. We will give the
-substance of his arguments against the truth of our statements:
-</p>
-<p>
-1. Mr. Seymour's book appeared, and no answer was made to it for
-many years, and therefore it must be presumed to be truth, as to
-its facts and conclusions.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_848">{848}</a></span>
-<p>
-To this we reply, that it makes no difference what presumptions
-may exist when they are upset by positive proof. Whether Mr.
-Seymour has been answered or not, does not change the rate of
-illegitimacy in any country of Europe in the least. Catholics may
-not deem it more worth while to reply to Seymour than to the
-McGavins and the Brownlees. The obviously sinuous and unfair
-selection of Mr. Seymour's statistics is a sufficient reason for
-allowing them to slide along with a thousand other calumnies so
-obviously false as not to be worth the trouble of refuting.
-However that may be, we have given the refutation, and that ends
-all the presumptions.
-</p>
-<p>
-2. Mr. Bacon tries to produce an impression on the minds of his
-readers that we shall add up and arrange the figures to suit our
-convenience, and are not to be trusted because we profess
-confidence, in the outset, of the result of the investigation, on
-account of our belief that the Catholic Church is the church of
-Christ.
-</p>
-<p>
-We will give an extract, that our readers may judge:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "But <i>The Catholic World</i> for April last crushes these
-  formidable allegations with one single stroke of <i>a
-  priori</i> argument: 'We know that she (the Roman Church) is
-  Christ's church, and that just in proportion as she exerts her
-  influence, virtue and morality must prevail; and that it is
-  impossible to prove, unless through fraud and
-  misrepresentation, that the practical working of her system
-  produces a morality inferior to that of any other.' This, of
-  course, is 'the end of controversy.' To go into details of
-  argument would be superfluous, not to say ridiculous, after a
-  demonstration so sweeping. But scorning criticism and ridicule,
-  straightway down into details and figures marches <i>The
-  Catholic World</i>. Having at the start announced it as <i>de
-  fide</i> that the figures must be so found and so added up as
-  to show a satisfactory balance in favor of his side, or else
-  the foundations of the faith were destroyed and the hope of
-  salvation cut off, he proceeds to the statistical business with
-  that eminently fair, candid, and philosophical spirit which
-  might be expected to result from such convictions."
-</p>
-<p>
-The Christian, then, according to the reasoning of the Rev. Mr.
-Bacon, who, firmly believing in the divinity of the religion of
-Christ, expresses confidence in the result of any investigation
-as to the moral result of Christianity, is to be deemed a rascal
-who will not hesitate to employ any unworthy arts in selecting
-and adding up his figures so as to make the result come out in
-accordance with a foregone conclusion. We dismiss insinuations
-like this with the contempt they deserve. If we have done any
-thing of this kind let it be proved; if not, do not insinuate it
-to our prejudice.
-</p>
-<p>
-3. Mr. Bacon says: "The gist of the article in <i>The Catholic
-World</i> is taken from one in <i>The Church and the World</i>,
-an ultra-ritualist journal, London, 1867."
-</p>
-<p>
-This is entirely untrue. The "criterion" of the "moral results of
-the Romish system" was illegitimacy, and the "gist of the
-article" is in the comparison embraced in the tabular statement
-of the Roman Catholic and Protestant countries of all Europe, of
-which nothing whatever has been taken from <i>The Church and the
-World</i>. We cited the statistics of Ireland from this journal,
-warning our readers of the fact that we could not verify it out
-of the statistical journals, and therefore we did not include it
-in our table, as can be seen by referring to the article itself.
-</p>
-<p>
-Besides this, nothing is taken on the authority of <i>The Church
-and the World</i>, except some statistics in relation to a side
-issue, the amount of prostitution in London, and other English
-cities. Mr. J. D. Chambers, M.A., Recorder of Salisbury, the
-author of the article in <i>The Church and the World</i>, states
-that there are 28,100 bad women in London, known to the
-Metropolitan Police, while it should be, that number, in all
-England, known to the Metropolitan Police.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_849">{849}</a></span>
-He also gives a table of the number of houses in other English
-cities <i>where abandoned women resort</i>, and this number does
-not correspond at all with the number of <i>brothels</i> reported
-by the police. It seems to us that Mr. Chambers may have been
-misled by the term "Metropolitan Police," in setting down the
-number of abandoned women to London rather than to England,
-without attributing to him any wilful falsification. And if these
-women are so well known to the Metropolitan Police, it may be
-inferred that, wherever they belong, they must carry on their
-nefarious occupation in London a good part of the time, and thus
-Mr. Chambers be substantially correct in his statement, after
-all. Mr. Bacon roundly asserts that Mr. Chambers has given the
-number of <i>brothels</i> in the leading English cities. This is
-incorrect, and, when the object is to fasten a brand of infamy on
-another's character, an inexcusable proceeding. Mr. Chambers has
-not given the number of <i>brothels</i>, but the number of
-<i>houses</i> to which bad women resort. There are many such
-resorts in New York City, which would not be reported as
-<i>brothels</i> in the police returns.
-</p>
-<p>
-We wish the public to understand this fully. Mr. Bacon accuses
-Mr. Chambers of a gross exaggeration in the number of
-<i>brothels</i> in the English cities. He gives the table as
-follows:
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>Brothels in</td><td>According to CATHO. WORLD</td><td>in Fact</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Birmingham</td> <td>966</td> <td>183</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Manchester</td> <td>1111</td><td>410</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Liverpool</td>  <td>1573</td><td>906</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Leeds</td>      <td>313</td> <td>63</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Sheffield</td>  <td>433</td> <td>84</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-and hence deduces that Mr. Chambers is a wilful liar, to be
-branded as such.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, Mr. Chambers never stated the above number of
-<i>brothels</i> in those cities, but that number of <i>houses
-where prostitutes resort</i>, a very different thing.
-</p>
-<p>
-We find in <i>Thom's Almanac</i> of 1869 the following table, for
-England and Wales, of <i>houses of bad character:</i>
-</p>
-<div class="center">
-<table>
-<tr><td>Receivers of stolen goods</td>         <td>2230</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Resorts of thieves and prostitutes</td><td>5689</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Brothels and houses of ill-fame</td>   <td>6614</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Tramps' lodging-houses</td>            <td>5614</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-<p>
-The last three figures may well be added up to give us the number
-of <i>houses where prostitutes resort;</i> the tramps'
-lodging-houses, according to Mr. Kaye's description of them, (in
-his <i>Social State of England</i>,) being little better than
-brothels. The public may now form an intelligent judgment which
-is the most guilty of misrepresentation, Mr. Bacon or Mr.
-Chambers, and which most deserves to be branded as a calumniator
-of his neighbor.
-</p>
-<p>
-He thus finishes up the unlucky Mr. Chambers:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The witness is impeached and kicked out of court with a very
-  ugly letter burned too deep in his forehead to be rubbed out.
-  We are glad to acknowledge that <i>The Catholic World</i> is
-  not the guilty author of these impostures, and to express our
-  unfeigned and most willing belief that that every way
-  respectable magazine would be incapable of contriving such
-  tricks."
-</p>
-<p>
-Alas Mr. Bacon! we fear that in your inconsiderate haste to brand
-another, the ugly letter will be burned so deep in your own
-forehead that you will find it very hard to efface it.
-</p>
-<p>
-4. Having finished up Mr. Chambers in this style, he considers
-that his refutation of <i>The Catholic World</i> is complete. He
-says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "The figures with which <i>The Catholic World</i> attempts to
-  vindicate the superior morality of Romish over Protestant
-  countries, are taken from a discredited and refuted writer in
-  <i>The Church and the World</i>&hellip; We have given facts enough
-  now to discredit without any particular refutation whatever
-  else of assertion may be contained in the article on the
-  'comparative morality of Catholic and Protestant countries' in
-  <i>The Catholic World </i> for April, 1869. We do not need to
-  rebut the testimony of this article point by point."
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_850">{850}</a></span>
-<p>
-These facts given relate exclusively to Mr. Chambers and the
-statistics of prostitution, as we have shown above, and do not
-affect those relating to the "criterion" of illegitimacy.
-</p>
-<p>
-The substance&mdash;as Mr. Bacon calls it, the gist&mdash;of the article of
-<i>The Catholic World</i> remains as yet intact; it has not even
-been examined by the critic. Who gave Mr. Bacon the right to say,
-as he does, that the substance of our article was taken from
-<i>The Church and the World?</i> There is an unblushing
-effrontery about this statement which is astonishing. There is
-nothing in the article to warrant it. Whenever we quoted <i>The
-Church and the World</i>, the reference is made at the foot of
-the page, and we distinctly state, there, that our figures on
-illegitimacy are taken from the <i>Journals of the Statistical
-Society of London</i>. Our readers can judge of this proceeding
-for themselves.
-</p>
-<p>
-But Mr. Bacon criticises us in severe terms for using these
-<i>Journals</i>, and says:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "If we had been in search of truth, how much easier and better
-  to go to the census returns, and get facts that can be trusted.
-  But when the object is, as with <i>The Catholic World</i>, to
-  find figures which shall tally with a conclusion already
-  determined by theological considerations, doubtless it is well
-  to keep clear of authoritative documents, and take only such
-  figures as have been manipulated in a succession of magazine
-  articles, constructed to serve a purpose."
-</p>
-<p>
-What better authority can we have in this country, on statistics,
-than the <i>Statistical Journals of London?</i> It is all an idle
-pretence to speak of getting the governmental returns in any
-great public library. We hunted for them in the Astor Library,
-and could not find one of them. The Society of London is composed
-of Protestants. Mr. Lumley, the author of the principal article
-on statistics, is probably one too. He has taken his information,
-he tells us, in regard to Great Britain, from the Registrar's
-Reports; the others, from reports made to parliament, and from
-the <i>Annuaire de l'Economie et de la Statistique</i>, of Paris.
-We have not a shadow of reason to doubt either the accuracy or
-fairness of the returns, or that they have been taken from the
-best governmental census returns. It would have been more
-creditable if Mr. Bacon had favored us with a table taken from
-these same returns, which he says are so easy to be obtained, to
-show the "outrageous falsity" of our statements, rather than to
-attempt to refute us by the method of pure insinuation.
-</p>
-<p>
-We challenge Mr. Bacon or any one else to produce a table of
-illegitimacy embracing all or nearly all the Protestant and
-Catholic countries of Europe, from the latest governmental
-returns, which shall differ essentially from ours, or from which
-any one may not draw precisely the conclusions we have drawn in
-respect to the moral results of Protestantism and Catholicity.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is all we need say on the main issue in question.
-</p>
-<p>
-We will now explain what was stated about the rate of
-illegitimacy in Ireland. Had we been inclined to proceed in the
-unscrupulous manner which Mr. Bacon insinuates in regard to us,
-we could have given this rate of three per cent from <i>The
-Church and the World</i> without remark, as it is simply given
-there among the other figures; but as we could not verify it in
-the <i>Statistical Journals</i>, we said so, in order to warn the
-public, and we stated that probably Mr. Chambers had access to
-the Registrar's Report, which we had not.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_851">{851}</a></span>
-For this, Mr. Bacon pitches into us in this style:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "What will be the amazement of the reader to be informed that
-  there are no 'Registrar's Reports' for Ireland; that the Romish
-  priests and the Romish party have constantly succeeded in
-  preventing, for reasons satisfactory to themselves, any act of
-  parliament for securing such returns from Ireland; and that the
-  supposed 'Registrar's Report' of three per cent of illegitimate
-  births is a mere fiction!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Hold on, Mr. Bacon! do not go ahead quite so fast. There are
-Registrar's Reports for Ireland, plenty of them, to be seen in
-the <i>Statistical Journals</i> in the Astor Library. In Thom's
-<i>Official Almanac and Directory</i>, Dublin, 1869, we read,
-"The act for the registration of births and deaths in Ireland
-came into operation on the 1st of January, 1864." Then follows
-registrar's returns of these for 1864, 1865, 1866, and 1867.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first return of illegitimate births has just been published.
-Our supposition was, that these returns were in existence, though
-not perhaps complete enough to warrant publication, and that they
-were known in England to Mr. Chambers and others, and this seems
-to be the truth. The rate for Ireland is 3.8 per cent, not so
-different from the figure of <i>The Church and the World</i>. We
-take the following from
-the <i>Catholic Opinion</i>, London, June 19:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "Statistics Of Illegitimate Births.
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "<i>The Scotsman</i>, one of the leading organs of Presbyterian
-  Scotland, gives the following:
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  "'We come next to a very painful and important point, and shall
-  get away from it as soon as possible. The proportion of
-  illegitimate births to the total number of births, is, in
-  Ireland, 3.8 per cent. In England, the proportion is 6.4; in
-  Scotland, 9.9. In other words, England is nearly twice, and
-  Scotland nearly thrice worse than Ireland. Something worse has
-  to be added, from which no consolation can be derived. The
-  proportion of illegitimacy is very unequally distributed over
-  Ireland, and the inequalities are such as are rather humbling
-  to us as Protestants, and still more as Presbyterians and as
-  Scotchmen. Takings Ireland according to registration divisions,
-  the proportion of illegitimate births varies from 6.2 to 1.9.
-  The division showing this lowest figure is the western, being
-  substantially the province of Connaught, where about
-  nineteen-twentieths of the population are Celtic and Roman
-  Catholic. The division showing the highest proportion of
-  illegitimacy is the north-eastern, which comprises or almost
-  consists of the province of Ulster, where the population is
-  almost equally divided between Protestant and Roman Catholic,
-  and where the great majority of the Protestants are of Scotch
-  blood and of the Presbyterian Church. The sum of the whole
-  matter is, that semi-Presbyterian and semi-Scotch Ulster is
-  fully three times more immoral than wholly Popish and wholly
-  Irish Connaught&mdash;which corresponds with wonderful accuracy to
-  the more general fact that Scotland, as a whole, is three times
-  more immoral than Ireland as a whole. There is a fact, whatever
-  may be the proper deduction. There is a text, whatever may be
-  the sermon; we only suggest that the sermon should have a good
-  deal about charity, self-examination, and humility."'
-</p>
-<p>
-So that, after all, now that the truth is at last out, the
-"Romish priests and the Romish party" have no reason to be
-ashamed of it. Probably their reason is best known to themselves;
-for it would puzzle any one else to devise any earthly reasons
-why they should oppose the publication of the Registrar's Report,
-so honorable to the Catholic people of Ireland.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mr. Bacon is "happy to announce" that, as a result of the attack
-of <i>The Catholic World</i>, a new edition of Seymour's book,
-with its opening chapter, is soon to appear. So, all the old
-calumnies and falsehoods are to be circulated with redoubled
-activity, and the commandment, "Thou shalt not bear false witness
-against thy neighbor," conveniently be thrust aside. The
-statistics of London are to be reproduced, while those of England
-are kept in the dark.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_852">{852}</a></span>
-Paris is to be compared with London, to produce, as Mr. Bacon
-says, "an overwhelming effect on the mind of the Protestant
-reader," while not a word is to be breathed of England and
-France. Five Italian cities are still to be compared with five
-English, to show that the Italian Catholics are four times as
-depraved as the English Protestants, while the rate of
-illegitimacy in all Italy is considerably less than that of
-England.
-</p>
-<p>
-And the tell-tale official reports of the census of Scotland, of
-Catholic and Protestant Prussia, are to be passed over in
-complete silence. The countries of Norway, Sweden, Denmark, are
-to be offset by provinces of the Austrian empire in which, as we
-showed in <i>The Catholic World</i>, a grinding law of the
-government hinders us from getting any real knowledge of the
-statistics of illegitimacy, and while the whole empire shows a
-rate smaller than any of those different countries. But we are
-tired of this disgusting enumeration of the fraud and trickery of
-the Rev. M. Hobart Seymour. The republication of his book cannot
-hurt us, and only tends to increase the growing distrust on the
-part of the public of the thousand and one calumnies so
-unscrupulously circulated concerning Catholics.
-</p>
-<p>
-We have only to add that <i>The New Englander</i> very
-appropriately finishes its article against us by bringing out a
-very infamous falsehood of Mr. Seymour's about the morality of
-the city of Rome, which we shall not fail to pay our respects to
-in the next number of <i>The Catholic World</i>.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-                  <h2>Sick.</h2>
-<div class="center">
-<pre>
-  My brother, o my brother! how my heart,
-  Uncertain, sad, doth yearn for thee to-day!
-  And my deep soul her earnest prayer doth say,
-  That God not yet will loose the fearful dart;
-  Not yet, sweet mercy, call on thee to part,
-  Prepared so scantily for the long, long way;
-  Nor till his lamp lights with her blessed ray
-  The narrow line along the shadowy chart.
-  Dear Lord, a stranger, far away he lies,
-  Where fevered pestilence about him leers;
-  His breath the yellow death! And yet my cries
-  Are not for that loved body whose weak sighs
-  First warmed <i>her</i> breast&mdash;'tis nine and twenty years&mdash;
-  The soul, poor soul 'tis needs these prayers and tears.
-</pre>
-</div>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_853">{853}</a></span>
-<br>
-
-       <h3>Translated From The Spanish.</h3>
-
-   <h2>How Matanzas came to be called Matanzas.<br>
-    Or, Uncle Curro And His Club.</h2>
-   <p class="center_close">
-   [Footnote 200]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p class="footnote">
-   [Footnote 200: Matanzas signifies murders or slaughters.]
-</p>
-<br>
-<p>
-<i>Fernan Caballero.</i> Here I am, Aunt Sebastiana, with a fixed
-intention to make you tell me a story.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Aunt Sebastiana</i>. Say that to my Juan, señor; he can tell
-no end of stories, and when he don't remember them, he makes them
-to suit himself.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Fernan</i>. Here comes Uncle Romance, who, if he wants a cigar
-and desires to give me pleasure, will tell me the story you have
-promised me in his name.
-</p>
-<p>
-<i>Uncle Romance</i>. You must know then, señor, that there was
-once a man who lived gayly, without thinking of to-morrow; and,
-since to spend, to owe, and not to pay, is the way to the
-poorhouse, our man soon found himself without <i>hacienda</i>,
-and with but thirty days to the month for possessions, and
-nothing to eat but his finger-nails. He grew so spiritless that
-his wife used to beat him, and his children insult him, and say
-impertinent things to him when he came home bringing no
-provisions for the house.
-</p>
-<p>
-He got so desperate at last that he borrowed a rope of his
-gossip, and went away to a field to hang himself. He had fastened
-the rope to an olive-tree; but just as he was going to put it
-around his neck, a little fairy-man appeared to him, dressed like
-a friar. "What are you doing, man?" said the friar. "Hanging
-myself, as your worship sees." "So, then, Christian, you are
-going to do like Judas. Go away from there. It wouldn't be well
-for you. Take this purse, which is never empty, and mend your
-fortune."
-</p>
-<p>
-Our man took the purse, and drew out a dollar, then another, then
-another, and saw that it was like a woman's mouth, that pours out
-to all eternity words, and words, and still words, and its words
-are never exhausted. Seeing this, he untied the rope, wound it
-up, and started for home. There was an inn on the road; he
-entered it and began to ask for whatever they had to eat and
-drink, paying when it was brought; for the innkeeper, seeing him
-so greedy, would not trust him for all he wanted. He ate so much
-and drank so much that he fell under the table, and lay there
-more sound asleep than the dead in Holyfield.
-</p>
-<p>
-The innkeeper, who had perceived that the purse was none the
-lighter, told his wife to make one just like it, and while Uncle
-Curro slept, went and stole the enchanted purse out of his pocket
-and put the other in its place.
-</p>
-<p>
-When Uncle Curro woke up, he took the road again, and reached his
-house more jolly than a sunshiny day.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Hurrah!" he shouted to his wife and children, "here's money and
-to spare; our troubles are over."
-</p>
-<p>
-He put his hand into the purse and drew it out empty; put it in
-again; but what was there to take out? When his wife saw that,
-she flew at him and beat him into a new shape.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_854">{854}</a></span>
-<p>
-More desperate than ever, he snatched the rope and went back to
-hang himself. He went to the same place, and tied the rope to a
-branch of the olive. "What are you going to do, Christian?" said
-the little fairy-man, appearing in the form of a cavalier, in the
-crotch of the tree. "Hang myself like a string of garlics from a
-kitchen ceiling," answered Uncle Curro quite composedly. "So you
-have lost patience, again?" "And if I have nothing to eat,
-señor?" "' It is your own fault, your fault; but&mdash;go away. Take
-this table-cloth, and while you keep it you will never find
-yourself without something to eat." Then the little fairy-man
-gave him a table-cloth, and disappeared among the branches.
-</p>
-<p>
-Uncle Curro unfolded the cloth upon the ground. The minute it was
-spread out, it covered itself with dishes, some of them good and
-the rest better than the king's cook could have made them, if he
-had tried his best.
-</p>
-<p>
-After Uncle Curro had stuffed himself till he could hold no more,
-he gathered up the cloth and set out for his house. When he got
-as far as the inn, he felt sleepy and lay down to take a nap. The
-innkeeper knew him, and guessed that he had something valuable;
-so, as cool as you please, he pulled the cloth away from him, and
-put another in its place.
-</p>
-<p>
-Uncle Curro reached home, and shouted to his wife and children,
-"Come, come to dinner; I'll take it upon me to see that you get
-your fill this time." Thereupon he undid the cloth, but only to
-behold it covered with stains of all sorts and sizes.
-</p>
-<p>
-At him she went. Mother and children all fell upon the poor man
-at once, and an object of charity they left him.
-</p>
-<p>
-Uncle Curro seized the rope once more and went off to hang
-himself. He was determined to do it this time, and the fairy-man
-was determined he shouldn't. He gave Uncle Curro a little club,
-and told him that with it he would be able to possess his soul in
-comfort; for that he had nothing to do but say, "Bestir yourself,
-little club!" to make all the world run away and leave him in
-peace, with a wide berth.
-</p>
-<p>
-Uncle Curro set out for home with the club, as happy as an
-alcalde with his stick. As soon as he saw the young ones coming
-toward him demanding bread with insults and impertinences, he
-said to the club, "Bestir yourself, little club!" and before the
-words were fairly out of his mouth, it began to deal about it in
-a way that speedily routed the children. Their mother ran out to
-help them, but, "<i>At her!</i>" cries Curro, "<i>at her with all
-your might!</i>" and with one rap the club killed her.
-</p>
-<p>
-They gave notice to the magistrate, and presently the alcalde
-made his appearance with his officers. "Bestir yourself, little
-club!" ordered Curro, and the club came down on them as if it had
-been paid at the rate of a dollar a thump. It killed the alcalde,
-and the others ran away with such might that not one of them had
-a sole left to his foot. Then they sent a messenger to let the
-king know what was going on, and the king sent a regiment of
-grenadiers to take Uncle Curro of the little club.
-</p>
-<p>
-But, "Bestir yourself, club!" bawled Uncle Curro, as soon as they
-came in sight, and threw the club in the midst of the files. The
-club begun its dance upon the ribs of the grenadiers, with a
-sound like a fulling-mill. It crippled this one's leg, and that
-one's arm; knocked out one of the captain's eyes, and, in short,
-the grenadiers threw away their muskets and knapsacks, and took
-to their heels, in the full belief that the devil was running
-loose.
-</p>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_855">{855}</a></span>
-<p>
-Free from care, Uncle Curro lay down to sleep, with his club
-hidden in his bosom, for fear that somebody might steal it.
-</p>
-<p>
-When he awoke, he found himself tied hand and foot, and on the
-way to prison. They sentenced him to ignominious death. The next
-morning they took him out of the dungeon, and, when they had
-caused him to ascend the scaffold, untied his hands. Out he drew
-his little club, and as he said, "Bestir yourself!" threw it at
-the executioner, who speedily yielded up the ghost under its
-blows. "Free that man," commanded the king, "or he'll finish with
-every one of our subjects. Tell him that he shall have an estate
-in America if he will leave the country."
-</p>
-<p>
-Uncle Curro consented, and the king made him lord of lands in the
-island of Cuba, where he built himself a city, and killed so many
-people in it with his club that its name was called, and has
-remained, Matanzas.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<br>
-      <h3>Correction Of A Mistake.</h3>
-<br>
-<p>
-The writer of the article on "Spiritualism and Materialism," in
-the Magazine for August, page 627, says, "The Holy See says the
-<i>immateriality</i>, not <i>spirituality</i>, of the soul is to
-be proved by reason." This is a mistake. The language of the Holy
-See is, "Ratiocionatio Dei existentiam, animae
-<i>spiritualitatem</i>, hominis libertatem cum certitudine
-probare potest&mdash;Reasoning can prove with certainty the existence
-of God, the spirituality of the soul, and the liberty of man."
-The writer wishes us to say that he is wholly unable to account
-for his blunder; for in writing, he had the words of the Holy See
-before his eyes, and certainly thought he read
-<i>immaterialitatem</i>; but in re-reading the words since a
-friend called his attention to the mistake, he finds that the
-word is plainly printed <i>spiritualitatem</i>. Of course the
-misstatement was wholly unintentional, and whatever in the
-article rests on it must be withdrawn, and the writer fully and
-explicitly retracts it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet the writer requests us to say that he thinks the doctrine
-maintained in the article is not affected by this mistake,
-blunder, or misstatement. The writer does not question the
-<i>spirituality</i> of the soul, but maintains that the soul's
-spirituality, save in the sense of its immateriality, is not
-provable by reason without revelation. He thinks
-<i>immateriality</i>, in the sense he explains it, covers all
-that is really meant by <i>spiritualiy</i> in the decision of the
-Holy See. We certainly do not, by reason alone, know what either
-spirit or matter is in its essence. We can prove by reason the
-substantiality, activity, unity, simplicity, indissolubility, and
-immateriality of the soul, or that it is not matter. Does the
-Holy See decide that we can do more, or go further? Does the
-spirituality of the soul, as provable by reason, mean any thing
-more? If not&mdash;and the writer, till better informed, must think it
-does not&mdash;he has erred only in using one word when he should have
-used another, and mistaking the word actually used by the Holy
-See. So much the writer of the article wishes us to say for him,
-which we do cheerfully; for we are well assured of his devotion
-to the Holy See and his loyalty to the Holy Father.
-</p>
-<br>
-<hr>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_856">{856}</a></span>
-<br>
-              <h2>New Publications.</h2>
-<br>
-<p class="cite">
-  Cantarium Romanum, Pars Prima, Ordinarium Missae.<br>
-  Studio et sumptibus Monachorum Ord. S. Benedicti.<br>
-  Conv. St. Meinradi, Ind. 1869.<br>
-  Cincinnati and New York: Benziger Bros.
-</p>
-<p>
-This publication purposes to give, in modern notation, the
-melodies of Gregorian Masses; that is, those portions which are
-common to all masses&mdash;the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Agnus
-Dei, with the Responses. We hail this as a step in the right
-direction, but are forced to find some fault with this volume.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the first place, we do not find the notation at all in
-conformity with the Roman Gradual or Missal, and suppose that it
-is according to one of those numerous "propers" which, in course
-of time, have been patched up for the use of various particular
-dioceses and religious orders. The spirit of the church to-day is
-one which inspires a return to unity in even minor points of
-discipline, of which the unity of the chant is, in our judgment,
-not the least. Again, the division of the words, their adaptation
-to the notes, and the length of notes given, makes horrible work
-in some places with the accent of the Latin, and destroys the
-majestic march of the melody. The effeminate sharp reigns
-supreme, and fancy responses take the place of those given in the
-Missal.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Meditations On The Sufferings, Life,
-  And Death Of Our Lord Jesus Christ.<br>
-  Translated from the French by a Sister of Mercy.<br>
-  Part First.<br>
-  Cincinnati: Robert Clarke & Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is a very excellent book of meditations, well translated,
-and published in the best style; to be completed in thirteen
-numbers. The proceeds are to be devoted to the building of a
-church annexed to the Convent of the Sisters of Mercy, in
-Cincinnati, to be called "The Church of the Atonement," and to be
-devoted especially to the adoration of the Sacred Heart of our
-Lord, in reparation of the injuries and outrages which it suffers
-from the neglect of tepid Christians and the more open sins of
-the wicked. The book is one which will be very useful to those
-who desire to practise meditation, and the object to which the
-good sisters intend to devote the profits, which we hope they may
-receive from it abundantly, is one that must commend itself to
-the heart of every good Catholic. We give them our best wishes
-for their complete success, and recommend their book most
-heartily to general circulation.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  An American Woman In Europe.<br>
-  By Mrs. S. R. Urbino.<br>
-  Boston: Lee & Shepard.
-</p>
-<p>
-A journal of two years and a half sojourn in Germany,
-Switzerland, France, and Italy, in only 338 duodecimo pages, is,
-as things go and as people write, really very moderate. It is a
-simple, straightforward story of what the authoress saw and
-heard, with a variety of practical information that many
-Americans on a first European tour might find useful.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is no affectation of style or sentiment in the book, and
-the authoress may be said to belong to the realistic school of
-travellers, who keep a bright lookout for railroad fares, hotel
-bills, and the prices of things in general.
-</p>
-<p>
-With disquisitions on art, Mrs. Urbino does not trouble us much,
-although she admires the works of that queen of Jarleys, Madame
-Tussaud, whose name she ungratefully prints Trousseau. At p. 228,
-the authoress indulges in this reflection: "How out of place
-crosses look in the Coliseum!
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_857">{857}</a></span>
-I cannot see why they were put there, since there are a
-sufficient number of churches in the city." The good lady does
-not appear to be aware of the fact that if the cross had not been
-placed in the Coliseum, we people of the nineteenth century would
-never have seen the noble ruin of that grand monument.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-
-<p class="cite">
-  Service Manual;<br>
-  for the instruction of newly-appointed Officers, and the Rank
-  and File of the Army, as compiled from Army Regulations, the
-  Articles of War, and the Customs of the Service.<br>
-  By Henry D. Wallen, Brevet Brigadier-General United States
-  Army, and Commander of the General Service Department, Fort
-  Columbus, New York Harbor.<br>
-  1 vol. 8vo, pp. 166.<br>
-  New York: D. Van Nostrand. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-General Wallen has compiled this excellent manual from the
-authorized sources, and added to it the fruit of his mature
-experience and intimate practical knowledge of the subject. The
-work possesses value, not only as an authentic guide to the young
-officer in all the details of company, camp, and garrison duty,
-his relations of subordination and responsibility, and his duties
-and obligations to those above and below him in the military
-order, but also is mellowed and animated by a spirit of kindness
-and good-will, and that genuine characteristic of the good
-soldier and thorough gentleman to whom duty is honorable, and
-both command and obedience acceptable for their own sakes and the
-inherent virtue they imply. This spirit animates this work
-throughout, and gives to it a character far superior to ordinary
-dry regulations. General Wallen is well qualified for the task he
-has undertaken. He is an old and faithful officer, and intimately
-acquainted with the service in all its branches and
-ramifications. He served with credit in the war with Mexico, and
-was one of the pioneers of the settlement of Oregon. Owing to the
-fact of having been born in Georgia, General Wallen was
-distrusted during the late war by Mr. Stanton, and ordered to New
-Mexico. General Grant, who is his life-long friend, as soon as he
-came into power, ordered him to the East, and did what he could
-to repair the injury he had experienced from the suspicious
-disposition of the late secretary of war.
-</p>
-<p>
-This work is of equal value to soldiers and officers, and will
-have a tendency to promote that mutual goodwill and cordial
-sympathy between the two classes growing out of the faithful
-performance of their respective duties, which we alone need to
-make our military system perfect, and absolutely invincible in
-war, as well as an example of honor and fidelity in peace.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  A Report On The Excisions Of The
-  Head Of The Femur For Gun Shot Wounds.<br>
-  By George A. Otis, M.D.,<br>
-  Assistant Surgeon and Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel U.S.A.<br>
-  Being Circular No. 2 War Department,
-  Surgeon-General's Office.<br>
-  Jan. 1869. 4to, pp. 141.<br>
-  Washington: Government Printing Office.
-</p>
-<p>
-It is not our purpose, in calling the attention of the readers of
-<i>The Catholic World</i> to this work, to enter upon any
-discussion or details of a purely surgical character, which would
-be obviously out of place. <i>The Catholic World</i> is
-essentially <i>Catholic</i>, and while strictly and purely so,
-aims to embrace within the scope of its critical observation
-every subject of interest and importance to society; and
-especially to award its cordial praise to those efforts which
-have for their object genuine science, true humanity, and
-national and individual honor and intellectual and moral
-advancement.
-</p>
-<p>
-The work before us is of the character indicated. In reverting to
-the public calamities and private miseries of the late war, it is
-a matter of satisfaction to know that out of the eater has come
-forth some meat; out of the strong, some sweetness.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_858">{858}</a></span>
-With the exception of the doubtful advantage of the knowledge
-which we have gained of our brute strength, some improvement in
-gunnery, and the familiarization of the public mind with battle,
-murder, and sudden death, we have reaped no substantial benefit
-excepting in the department of military surgery. The medical
-profession gave during the war an extraordinary example of
-courage, devotion to duty, labor, and self-sacrifice, which we
-fear is not fully appreciated either by the country or the
-government. They rose as a body above the political issues
-involved, and the personal passions evoked, and, acting on the
-great principle of charity underlying their vocation, saw, in
-many a sick and wounded man, a friend and brother.
-</p>
-<p>
-This principle was acted upon on both sides, it was the most
-humanizing element which entered into the conflict, and aided and
-seconded the chivalric spirit which animated the graduates of
-West Point. These two qualities redeemed the late war from utter
-barbarism.
-</p>
-<p>
-There was, on the part of the medical officers, an earnest,
-conscientious, and zealous determination to ascertain the best
-methods of treatment in all cases, and an ardent desire to
-relieve suffering, save life, and preserve limbs in the best
-possible condition for future usefulness. The publications of the
-Medical Department and the admirable museum collected at
-Washington bear testimony to the accuracy of this statement, and,
-while they are a terrible and sickening commentary on man's
-inhumanity to man, they are also a sublime and beautiful
-illustration of that power which turns temporary calamities into
-permanent benefits, and of that humanity and science which are
-both motives and objects of the profession of medicine.
-</p>
-<p>
-The reports issued from time to time by the surgeon-general are
-the concentrated and distilled expression of multitudes of crude
-and detached observations, carefully elaborated, compared,
-analyzed, and corrected, till they come to express the precise
-knowledge and experience of the present day on a given subject.
-</p>
-<p>
-The portion of this great work before us is prepared by Doctor
-George A. Otis, Assistant Surgeon and Lieutenant-Colonel U.S.A.,
-and is a model of patient labor, exact knowledge, just
-discrimination, and acutely intelligent appreciation. It presents
-all that is known in regard to a class of terrible and
-exceedingly fatal injuries. The facts, evidence, and opinions are
-carefully and impartially weighed and estimated, and the
-conclusions are such as will be accepted by every discriminating
-surgeon throughout the world.
-</p>
-<p>
-The voice of the medical profession will, we believe, endorse the
-opinion which we somewhat apodictically express.
-</p>
-<p>
-Society and the country owe Doctor Otis a debt of gratitude for
-his great work, and also the medical bureau which aids and
-directs his labors. Such works belong to the class of benefits
-whose value cannot be expressed by human standards. They reflect
-honor upon the age and country which produce them, and are an
-invaluable legacy to the future.
-</p>
-<p>
-We cannot conclude this imperfect notice without expressing the
-hope that Congress, influenced by the universal sentiment of the
-country, will give all the material aid required to the
-Surgeon-General's Department in prosecuting its great and most
-fruitful labors.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Silver Jubilee Of The University
-  Of Notre Dame, June 23d, 1869.<br>
-  Compiled and published
-  by Joseph A. Lyons, A.M.<br>
-  Chicago: E. B. Myers & Co.
-</p>
-<p>
-This is a tastefully gotten-up volume, designed as a "memorial"
-tribute to the students, past and present, of the University of
-Notre Dame, in Northern Indiana, on the occasion of the
-celebration of the twenty-fifth or <i>silver</i> anniversary of
-the corporate existence of that now large, flourishing, and
-important Catholic institution of learning. It gives a brief but
-interesting history of the university, from its humble
-beginnings, a quarter of a century since, under the zealous and
-effective labors of the Very Rev. Father Sorin and his
-well-chosen and able co-workers, to its present wide and ample
-proportions.
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_859">{859}</a></span>
-This is followed by an account of its internal economy or
-arrangements; its study, discipline, and amusements; its
-societies&mdash;religious, literary, and others; its library, museum,
-etc., etc. Sketches are also given of the lives of its
-presidents, vice-presidents, professors, and teachers, as well as
-of its alumni, with a full account of the exercises of its recent
-<i>Jubilee</i> commencement. Altogether, the volume must prove a
-very interesting and acceptable one to the numerous graduates,
-pupils, and friends of Notre Dame.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Nora Brady's Vow, And<br>
-  Mona The Vestal.<br>
-  By Mrs. Anna H. Dorsey.<br>
-  Boston: Patrick Donahoe. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first of these stories is of modern times, and the other is
-of the time of St. Patrick. Mrs. Dorsey, like all writers not to
-the <i>Irish manner</i> born, makes fearful work with what some
-persons are pleased to call the <i>Irish brogue</i>. This is,
-however, a small fault, with which we do not wish to quarrel. The
-stories are presented to the public in a beautifully printed and
-elegantly bound volume, and will, we doubt not, be welcomed in
-many an Irish-American household.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Way Of Salvation,<br>
-  in Meditations for all times in the year.
-  By St. Alphonsus Liguori.<br>
-  Translated from the Italian by the Rev. James Jones.<br>
-  New York: Catholic Publication Society, 126 Nassau St.
-</p>
-<p>
-One of the best signs of the present time, and a sign most
-encouraging to Catholics of all classes and professions, is that
-books of genuine piety are more and more in demand every day. It
-was this fact that induced the Catholic Publication Society to
-bring out in a neat and very convenient form the celebrated
-<i>Way of Salvation</i>, by St. Liguori. It is one of the most
-popular works of that sainted author; and the mere announcement
-of its publication is sufficient recommendation.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Two Schools. A Moral Tale.<br>
-  By Mrs. Hughs.<br>
-  New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This book presents in a striking manner the results of two
-systems of home education. In it we have a vivid picture of the
-consequences of wealth, recklessly lavished on an only daughter,
-contrasted with the encouraging way in which the virtue of a
-much-injured girl triumphs over the designs of base and cunning
-enemies. The authoress possesses a happy talent of describing
-persons in an easy and remarkably concise style, and she succeeds
-in causing her characters to act and speak in a natural manner.
-The book will be read, by girls especially, with the keenest
-enjoyment. The conduct of Mary will seldom fail to draw forth
-their approval, and all readers will agree that this is a good
-story.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  A German Reader.<br>
-  In Prose and Verse.<br>
-  With Notes and Vocabulary.<br>
-  By William D. Whitney.<br>
-  New York: Leypoldt & Holt.
-</p>
-<p>
-The text of this Reader has at length reached us; and in regard
-to accuracy, arrangement, and clearness of type it is all that
-can be desired. The selections are very good, although many of
-them have already done service in German educational works.
-Originality is only claimed for the vocabulary and notes, which
-have not yet been published, so that we may only remark that the
-volume will enjoy a very high reputation, if the forthcoming part
-be prepared with the same attention that has been devoted to the
-text.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  The Poetical Works Of Samuel Lover.<br>
-  London and New York: George Routledge & Sons.
-</p>
-<p>
-A most beautiful edition of the beautiful songs of Lover, written
-mostly, as all know, about love and lovers. Yet not all. We are
-indebted to him for many charming ballads, of sweetest melody and
-deepest pathos, to which indeed Lover owes his fame as a poet.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_860">{860}</a></span>
-<p class="cite">
-  The Irish Widow's Son;<br>
-  Or, The Pikemen Of Ninety-eight.<br>
-  A story of the Irish Rebellion, embracing an historical account
-  of the Battles of Antrim and Ballinahinch.<br>
-  By. Con O'Leary.<br>
-  Boston: P. Donahoe. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This book is interesting, and free from the coarseness which is
-found in so many stories of Ireland. The author has succeeded in
-producing a readable tale of that epoch in Ireland's history when
-secret associations became the controlling power of that
-misgoverned country.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p class="cite">
-  Essay On Divorce And Divorce Legislation,<br>
-  with special reference to the United States.<br>
-  By Theodore D. Woolsey, D.D., LL.D.,
-  President of Yale College.<br>
-  New York: Charles Scribner & Co. 1869.
-</p>
-<p>
-This book, by one of the first scholars of our country, is a very
-learned and laudable effort to effect a reform in our divorce
-legislation. It would require a long and elaborate article to do
-justice to the work and the subject. At present we can only say
-that the community ought to thank Dr. Woolsey for the labor he
-has performed in their service, and which he has done as well as
-it can be done by one who stands on the Protestant platform.
-</p>
-<hr style="width:30%; margin-right: 35%;">
-<p>
-THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY has in preparation, and will
-publish early in October, <i>The Illustrated Catholic Family
-Almanac</i> for 1870. It will contain the astronomical tables,
-calendars, a great amount of valuable statistics, as well as
-several well-written sketches of places and things in various
-countries. It will be illustrated with over twenty splendid
-wood-cuts, and will be sold for 25 cents per copy. Orders from
-the trade should be sent in at once.
-</p>
-<p>
-P. O'SHEA, New York, has in press, and
-will publish this season,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  Lacordaire's <i>Sketch of the Order of St. Dominic;</i>
-<br><br>
-  <i>Memoir, Journal, and Correspondence of Mrs. Seton,</i>
-  by Mgr. Seton, in 2 vols. 8vo;
-<br><br>
-  <i>Love of our Lord Jesus Christ</i>, by St. Jure, vol. 2;
-<br><br>
-  Library of Good Examples, 12 vols.
-</p>
-<p>
-John Murphy & Co., Baltimore, announce <i>A Memoir of the Life
-and Character of the Rev. Demetrius Augustin de Gallitzin,
-Founder of Loretto and Catholicity in Cambria County, Pa.,
-Apostle of the Alleghanies.</i> By Very Rev. Thomas Heyden, of
-Bedford, Pa.
-</p>
-<p>
-Patrick Donahoe, Boston, has in
-press
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  <i>Mary and Mi-Ka</i>, a story of "The Holy Childhood;"
-<br><br>
-  <i>Five Years in a Protestant Sisterhood,
-  and Ten Years in a Catholic Convent;</i>
-<br><br>
-  and a <i>Life of Christopher Columbus.</i>
-</p>
-<p>
-Kelly, Piet & Co., Baltimore,
-announce the republication of the
-Roman periodical,
-</p>
-<p class="cite">
-  <i>Acta ex Iis decerpta quae apud Sanctam Sedem geruntur.<br>
-  The Double Sacrifice: a tale of Castelfidardo.
-  The Life of Madame Louise de France, Daughter
-  of Louis XV., in religion Mother
-  Terese de St. Augustin. The Day
-  Sanctified</i>; being meditations and
-  spiritual readings for daily use.
-<br><br>
-  <i>Popular Tales</i>. By Maria Edgeworth.
-<br><br>
-  <i>Moral Tales</i>. By Maria Edgeworth.
-
-<hr>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Catholic World, Vol. 09, April,
-1869-September, 1869, by Various
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