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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."—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—there being not the slightest suspicion of her sex—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—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—as all -concerned honestly believed—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—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—an ignorance entirely excusable—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—as one of them does to this -day—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—well, we'll not haggle about a score or -two—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—a mere list of the titles -of which would exceed the limits of this article—every library -and collection in Europe was ransacked with the furious industry -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 -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>"—that is to say, "as report goes," or "believe it -who will"—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—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—as Whately so well remarks in his -<i>Historic Doubts</i>—"all striking likenesses—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"—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 -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 fidčle milice du saint-sičge -que se rencontrent les propagateurs les plus naďfs, et peut-ętre -les inventeurs, d'une histoire si injurieuse ŕ 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—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 Ferričres, 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>"—"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—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—the publisher of those -days—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—for men are -alike in all ages—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—even granting the truth -of this assertion—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—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 longč 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—the same noted for his controversy with -Bayle, who was a "friend of the family"—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— -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 -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—<i>Papa Patrum</i>, -etc.—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—that is, composed of representatives from all the -churches in the world—bishops living under every political -system and every variety of social customs—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—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—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—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)—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—I ask it in -charity and for information—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—and, unfortunately, it is an impious one—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—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!—Greeks, Syrians, -Armenians, Chaldeans, Bulgarians, Russians, and Sclavonians, all -whom I cannot call by name—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—"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. … 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—and the solution is not -difficult to simple good sense and courageous faith—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—it is the desire of the -Holy Father—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—in time and out of time, says St. Paul—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—and the -ecumenical council will prove this again to the world—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—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—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—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—and both have done so—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—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—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—<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—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."—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— - 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—" -</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—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—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—letters, -photographs, locks of hair—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—both -silver-threaded—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—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—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—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—I'm so tired!—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—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—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—— 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 ŕ la Mecque, et prophčte ŕ -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——, 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—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—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—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—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." …. "This sprightly, -instructive, and interesting book has gone out of print." … 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—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. … 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. - … 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—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—and it is -the only fair and honest way to proceed—why not compare them in -a straightforward, obvious way—France and England, Prussia and -Austria—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. -… 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. … 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—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—"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—charmed, indeed—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— -"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—your first wife—died, you knew she left two -children." -</p> -<p> -"One—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—all that my poverty would enable me -to give, however I were disposed—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—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—" -</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—" -</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—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—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—" 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—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—I mean could your father be -persuaded—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—as if -it were an everyday affair—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>ŕ 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— - Blue, white, and yellow streaked with jet— - 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—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—that is, in Siberia—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, Ardčche, 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; Ardčche, 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-Sčvres, 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'Abrantčs 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—of strange and undefinable -uneasiness—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—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—generally, the -western—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 -Rivičre-des-Pluies, and another at La Ressource. La -Rivičre-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—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>ŕ 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—if, <i>per -impossibile</i>, he were elevated to the papal chair, and clothed -with papal authority—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—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 -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—if that is the word—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 Frčres. - 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—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—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—causing, thus, gross corruption of morals and manners, -the neglect of religious instruction, and dangers to souls—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—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—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—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>—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—the chief interest of both society -and individuals—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— - 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—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—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: … 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—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—in every-day life termed accident—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—what -could be more natural?—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—that St. John among the artists—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—a highly gifted and lofty mind, but struggling in the -deepest poverty—to him she proved a generous benefactress; and -we can truly say, that through her goodness his last days—he -died at Rome, 1832—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—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—the aeolodicon and harp were -always seen in her drawing-room—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—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—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—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—a painted <i>comoedia divina</i>—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—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—this man whose ideas grasped -the world—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—in the most liberal way of viewing - it—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—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—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—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—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—my wedding time—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—she who - rendered her memory so dear, so imperishable to him by an act - kindness performed at his request to a poor family— -</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—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—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. … 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—two opposite polarities of friendship, both deep and - sincere—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—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'Angoulęme 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 -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—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—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—not one disturbance, no police—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—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—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—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— -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—<i>On the Existence and the Institute of the -Jesuits</i>—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—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—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—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—as the early days of all New England -and of several of the other American States—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—too poor and friendless to protect the -natural and legal rights of themselves and their offspring—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—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—' <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—the omnibus—under the patronage of the Duke of -Roančs 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. -</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—the king's color as well as the city's color—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 Roančs, 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—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 Roančs, 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 -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—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—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.—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—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—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—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—the drudgery, they call -it—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—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—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—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—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>naďve</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—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—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—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—that the Browning Pegasus is a racker, and that -the Browning road up Parnassus is macadamized with—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—" 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—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—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—"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—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—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——, the liberator, came along, and -leaned on the fence a moment—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——," 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—the freshest of which are as old as - Christian theology, and the others as old, if not older, than - the fall of man—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>ŕ 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—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—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—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—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—namely, that we cannot, with -consistency, argue about doctrines defined by infallible -authority—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—generally repugnant to those who have been sickened by -imbibing the Calvinistic and Lutheran poison—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—so nearly allied to the more moderate -Calvinism and to one form of Anglicanism—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—Ben Wilkes—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—Mary's especially—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—" -</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—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—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—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—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—your -mother—" -</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—" 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—" -Dick hesitated, not willing to speak unkindly of Mr. Brandon, who -certainly had been a father to Mary—"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—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—— to reside; they -remained there until Richard was a month old, when his daughter -made him a long—her last—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—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—to Europe. As he had said before, he came back -disappointed but not despairing, to hear of Mr. Brandon's -death—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—it's a shabby thing to say—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—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—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—an inexperienced -traveller even yet, and always in advance of time—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 -—for, of course, Mr. Irving's "business in Maine" did not -interfere with his accompanying Dick to Wiltshire—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—" -</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—so precious to every pious heart—of laying -a beautiful veil—Mary's gift to her "sweet little -sister"—which Trot looks critically at every Sunday, and may be -a little oftener, and puzzles her small head wondering if its -delicate texture—the veil's—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—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—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—their fantastic shapes taking the form of nuns -or monks—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 Espańa!" 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 Ońa, 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—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—of life size—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—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—two of Spagnoletto, and -several of Ribalta and Juanes—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—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—and we have visited hospitals -everywhere—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—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—of brass—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—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, Dońa Sol and Dońa 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 Cordońa, 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 Dońa 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 — Province Of Andalusia — - Fonda Suiza — 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—the marble courts, with fountain, and orange-trees, and -flowers, and vines—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—a thousand are yet left—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—where was kept the -Koran—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—a -recess in this chapel—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—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—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—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—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—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—though it be a fallacious—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—and we use this word as - <i>including</i> conscience—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—in that tone of asking which is equivalent - to the highest form of injunction—'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—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—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—and who - know that they are—'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—seeming to himself to find them in the - Bible—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,—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—all in the most profound, uninterrupted, and prayerful - dependence upon the Holy Spirit—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—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—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—for God's word suffices for that; and we believe it -on his veracity—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—therefore, be itself -outside of us—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.—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,—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—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—"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 -—Christianity—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—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 - Thérčse, 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 Prelŕ, 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—I will not say may be - deserved, how could this ever be?—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—the only - one I have—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. … 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! … The kind Tony F—— 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? … Nor will I entertain forebodings for - the future. He who infuses such rapture into the heart, - can—yes, must—impart strength and courage, when he lays the - cross upon our shoulders. He will do it, too—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—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! … 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—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—an historical church—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—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—that noble -privilege of educated wealth!—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—200,000 -florins—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—a nature of rare purity and depth—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.— -</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"—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—<i>and he would be a rash politician who would -negative such a proposition</i>—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 Ł616,000, 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 - Ł835,000, but for the present purpose he would take it at - Ł700,000. The capitalized amount was as follows: -</p> -<div class="center"> -<table> -<tr><td>Tithe rent charge</td> <td>Ł9,000,000</td> </tr> -<tr><td>Land</td> <td>Ł6,250,000</td> </tr> -<tr><td>Other property in money, etc.</td> <td>Ł750,000</td> </tr> -<tr><td>Total</td> <td>Ł16,000,000</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—the - remaining value is no less than Ł16,000,000 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>confrčres</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 Ł5,000,000, 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 Ł800,000, or - Ł40,800,000, 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 Ł40,547, and a - subsidy of Ł2050 for their theological college at Belfast, - making a total of Ł42,597. Protestant dissenters have no - endowment, nor yet Catholics, excepting a subsidy to the - college at Maynooth of Ł26,360. Thus the Anglican - Establishment in Ireland has a revenue of about Ł800,000 for - 700,000 persons, or about Ł1 3s. per head. The Presbyterians - receive from the government Ł42,597 for 523,291 persons, or - about 1s. 7 1/2d. per head. Catholics, Ł26,360 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—with the exception of the queen, corporations sole and -aggregate dissolved by the act, and trustees, officers, and -persons acting in a public capacity—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 Ł45,000. 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 Ł26,000 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—assets which, according to Mr. -Gladstone's estimates, will amount to Ł16,000,000, or eighty -million dollars. -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246">{246}</a></span> -Of this sum, Ł9,000,000, 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 Ł310,000. There are two very -patent reasons for this distribution. Already the sum of Ł140,000 -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—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—for he was both -anxious and disturbed—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—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—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—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—what?—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—for in -him I was protecting my mother—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—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—because, if creation implied a -mutation in him, it would be his own modification—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—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—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—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—that is, whether it have a cause or be -self-existent—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—nay, we -cannot help seeing—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—<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—our humanity. Next to such poems—and Mr. De -Vere has written not a few—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—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—heaven knows with good -reason—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—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—what Protestantism is -always peculiarly quick to suspect—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—in -literature or anything else—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—since Mr. De Vere did not aim to please us -all, what was his aim? He has not told us in the natural -place—the preface—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—as it seems to us, be it -remembered—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—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—the best of all—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: - Blessčd 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, "Glaucč," "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 -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—one of the very latest in his latest -book [Footnote 59] —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 "Glaucč," 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—the remarkable epitome of England in the -sonnets on colonization—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— - 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—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!—'Isle of Saints!' - Such doubtless was your land—again it might be— - 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—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—rather a curious thing, perhaps—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—always in its -essence his own—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—many of them among his best—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"—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> -—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— - '<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— - 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—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—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—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—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— - 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 soilčd 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—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—</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—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—a hundred other -words might be effective as qualifications of "stillness" and -"clearness"—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—betrayal still to promise clinging— - 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—sublime - To stand where access none hath space or time, - Above the starry host, the cherub band, - To stand—to advance—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—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—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—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—come to me in the third -watch—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—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—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—stop, lady!—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>Sičcle</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. … 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—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 Bruyčre -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>Systčme de la Nature</i>, tom. ii. c. 13. - Cited on page 106. ] -<br><br> - [Footnote 63: <i>Les Caractčres</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—<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—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>—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 Frčres 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! … 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—that is, necromancy—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 - … 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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—wasn't it St. Francis?—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—" -</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—un peu—beaucoup—passionnément—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?—that poor Horace Binney— -</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>ŕ 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 Moličre," 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—in a sort of way—" 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—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—they were -too sacred to be shared with others—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—" 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—"I know what woman is! -'<i>Hominis confusio</i>.' I—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—" 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—" -</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"—with downcast eyes and a little tremor in her voice—"I -thank you that you are not too angry with me for what I could not -help. I could not have borne—" 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—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—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—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—pointed, -suggestive, and curt—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—as surely as the -soft and sibilant Romaic tells of a race fallen from the higher -walks of Grecian philosophy, history, science, and song—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—by mere evolution—without -seeking what absolute truth corresponds to the successive rise of -nations, or clearing up the future by the past—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—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—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—Iranic, -Semitic, Gallic, or Black—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—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—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—for nothing dies but what has -lived; even inorganic nature possesses its activity, its -eternally active labor—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>—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—<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—obedience, abstinence, -purity; those virtues which would give that <i>facilitas -imperii</i>—that self-control—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>—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—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—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—Catholic, Protestant, and schismatic—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—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—that is, the liberty of community life, -of prayer, benevolence, of wearing a peculiar dress, and of -worshipping according to your conscience—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—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—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—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, Dońa 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>ŕ l'espagnol;</i> 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 -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 Cańo, 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—the royal palace given by -Queen Isabella to her sister, the Duchess de Montpensier—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—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—as it seems to us. We wander in delicious gardens -—like those described in the <i>Arabian Nights</i>—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—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—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.—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—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"!—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—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.—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—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—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—lined with azulejos, (colored porcelain tiles,) -universally used in this country—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 Mańara) 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 Mańara," 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 Mańara. 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 Mańara, 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 Mańara 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—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—the source of the present Jerez -nobility. It has an Alcazar of great interest—its Alameda—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—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—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>Dońa</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—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—brown sherry and pale sherry, fifty years of -age. But the most delicious of all are the sweet wines—which are -also sherries—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—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—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—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—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—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—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"—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—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 -Cattolicŕ</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—with the usual flippant -impertinence of this class of writers—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>—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—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—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—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 Dozulč, 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. … It is thus that the Catholic Church - sustains itself, happily for France and the world. … The - clergy dies not, the papacy does not fall. … 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. … 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—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.' … '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—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—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—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—the immortality of her life, the -divine authority of her teaching, the irresistible and universal -power of that spirit which is in her—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—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."—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—pained—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—perhaps near his tree, -familiarly known as Lord Baltimore's tree—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—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—-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—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—a -rendezvous of all the martins, wrens, whippoorwills, etc., of the -country—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—if it is not profane to say so—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—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—the sign of our -salvation—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 Pčre 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—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—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—spire and parapet— - Might rise, and nearer to the sky: - - That, wholly overbuilt by grace, - Nature might vanish, like some isle - In great towers lost—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—admitted as genuine by the best -authorities—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—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 … 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; … 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." - —<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—and this is a <i>mere</i> matter of -fact—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—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—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 … -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—the only one having direct reference -to the subject—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—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—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—God knows how old in sorrows!—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—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—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—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—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.—<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—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— - 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—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 maďalis</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. Eugčne 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—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!"—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." - … -</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. … 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—a right accorded him by the constitution—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—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—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—of intrusting one's self for -salvation to the Lord Jesus Christ—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—What they do—What they are aiming at.<br> - From the French of Mgr. Sčgur, - 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 Sčgur, - 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—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—an antependium and frontal for high festivals—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—— 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>naďve</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—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. … 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"—thus testify the fathers of the -Council of Seleucia—"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.—July, 1869.</h2> - - - <h2>Columbus At Salamanca.</h2> -<div class="center"> -<pre> - "——e di te solo - Basti ai posteri tuoi ch'alquanto accume: - Che quel poco darŕ 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—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—history, biography, travels, poetry, philosophy—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"> - "——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—we -must in justice to Mr. Irving say—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 -gęne</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. … -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. … Entre las - muchas grundezas … 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 -porfiň 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, (nč 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 ŕ 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. … cuyo -autoridad. … 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. … 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—a junta of cosmographers—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] —traditions supported by his own writings and the -testimony of such men as Las Casas—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—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—with the wealth that must necessarily be -obtained from it—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"—the Dominican monk—"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—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—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—shadows, he called them—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—she—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—the region of mirages, of New -Jerusalems, that shone and crumbled—of sacred-seeming streams -that fled from thirsty lips—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—" 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——, 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—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—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—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—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.—<i>Thoreau</i>. -</p> -<br> -<p> -Would that I were, if not like the king of Ava—lord of the -twenty-four umbrellas—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—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—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—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—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—one of those which -were consecrated above the head of the dying Saviour—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—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—the -chapel of the Carmelites in the Rue d'Enfer, where she took the -veil. I refer to Madame de la Valličre, 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—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 Valličre. 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"—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—our Lady of -Mount Carmel—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 Valličre 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 -Valličre, 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 -others."—"There are two kinds of love," he added, "one is the -love of ourselves, which leads to the contempt of God—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—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>"—a beautiful expression, recalling the lines from an -old manuscript poem in the <i>Bibliothčque Royal:</i> -</p> -<div class="center"> -<pre> - "Li cuers doit estre - Semblans ŕ 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 Valličre, the whole audience wept -aloud. The Duchess de la Valličre 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—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—one and the same, always and everywhere -—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 … - 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—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—we -should say, produce—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—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—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—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—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!—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 Pińos, 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 Cańo, and two of his most -celebrated pieces of sculpture—the heads of Adam and Eve carved -in cork. Cańo 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)—the last—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—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 -Dońa Isabel, king and queen of las Espańas 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 -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—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—one of the most faultless characters in -history—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—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—"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 Cańo, 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—tortoise-shell, ebony, silver, and mother of pearl—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—a head of our Lord by -Murillo; a copy, by Alonzo Cańo, 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. -</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—later than the Alhambra—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—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—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—" 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—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—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 "Tuńos." 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. -</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 Seńora 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 -paradise. -</p> -<p> -At night, we have a gypsy-dance. The chief of his troop is the -finest guitar player in Spain—there can be no better in the -world—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—a sort of "heel and -toe"—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 Cańo. -</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—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"—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"—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—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—the best born, -the best bred, and the best educated—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—like a timepiece about to stop—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—your father," she said with an effort. -"But it was a long time ago, a very long time—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—a reader—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—the Divine -Consoler—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—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—I trust and hope he did—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—cool in -summer, warm in winter, splendid at all times—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—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—a -withered and haughty figure—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—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—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—you know why! It seems to me that the moment is approaching -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!" -</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—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—" -</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—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—" 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—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 procčs -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.—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.—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—or his vicar-general, by his order—shall choose in the - episcopal council two members—not always the same—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>procčs 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—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—for the - laws recognize and proclaim this right—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.—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.—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!—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—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, … the Indians, … 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—the former occupying from the Indian Ocean -and the latter from the Arctic zone—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; … - and bind anew the universe to God. … 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—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—to -the cave of Bethlehem—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—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—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—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—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—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—when all Europe wonders at the -name of <i>Beethoven</i>—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—<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—" -</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—<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—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—not even an -error or a sophism—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—first, the obligation; second, the -regula or rule; third, the end—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—<i>regula</i>—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—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—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—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—which is simply the right or authority of God to command -us—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—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—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— - 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—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—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. … 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—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—the esoteric and -exoteric—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—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—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—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—these were their daily - intellectual food. Amid all things—in church, shop, or - bedroom; on the roadside and by the palace; at every street - corner, and over every threshold—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—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—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—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—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—that fitting -climacteric of a life whence sprung the Eternal Word—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 -Jardiničre</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—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—"dawn of another life that broke o'er her earthly -horizon"—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—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—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—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.—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—in fact, no - difference at all—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.—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—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—that is, -a cosmos indefinitely progressive—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—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—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—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—since emperor—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 ŕ 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—that is to say, with a powerful magnifying glass—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> 2ž</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>naďve 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—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—the trees -leafing in January, and the house-tops iced in April—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—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—her mother's sister's -husband—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—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—the whole sentiment is Catholic, and the -reader feels it, just as one in reading ŕ 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—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 -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—above all, for instance, those of Fra -Angelico—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.—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—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—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—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—-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—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, … 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—we speak -personally—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—<i>enlighten</i> them, they -say; darken them, we say—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—under the management and control of the church—for -Catholics, and secular schools—under its own management and -control,—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—even according to the most exaggerated statements of -<i>Putnam's Magazine</i> and the sectarian press—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—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—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—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'—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—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— -</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—nobody has any right to know—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—overwhelmed with work—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>—well—<i>noires</i>, I suppose, on the strength of -which you are to ask anything you please. Choate and I"—here a -polysyllable was dashed across the whole sheet—"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—see! her name is engraven, with -the date—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—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 "—O silent lips!—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——. 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—— 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——," 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—" -</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—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—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—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——, -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—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"—smiling faintly—"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—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—-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—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—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—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—I say it with all -respect to his memory—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—! Did not the great -Haydn—bless him for it!—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—" 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—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"—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—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—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—"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 Prčs. -</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 -Prčs, 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 ŕ 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—-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—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—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—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 Bibliothčque 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. -Hélčne 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 -Prčs, 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—one formerly at the abbey of St. Denis, and the other at -St. Germain des Prčs. 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 Ličvre, 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 Prčs 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—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— -</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 - —that man of sin which torments, oppresses, persecutes - you—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—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. Pčre 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—especially the greatest of them all, the Angel of the -schools—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—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—perhaps, in principle, of all ages—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—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—the body that is seen and the body that is -understood—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—which was evidently the doctrine of St. Augustine—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—a sinful mortal, not unlikely—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—knowing by looking on, or immediately beholding; that is, -in the sense of intelligible as distinguished from sensible -perceptions—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—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—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, … reaching unto the -division of the soul and the spirit," or, as the Protestant -version has it, "quick and powerful, … 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—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—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—that is, the -report of the money market—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—reflection—-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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—missed from necessity—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—to your contempt of woman." -</p> -<p> -"That impulse, father, can be overcome, and habit becomes a -second nature. Besides—" -</p> -<p> -"Besides—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—such was the name of the beauty—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—to me, at least, -it seemed short—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—a loud cry—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—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—if -you penetrate these forms, if, under the constraint of graceful -repose, we see modesty, purity, and even humility—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—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—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—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.—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—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—-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—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—the strips of forests that lay like shadows in the sunny -plain—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—so great and strong—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—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—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—the Angel did that." -</p> -<p> -"The Angel. Who is that?" said Frank, surprised. -</p> -<p> -"The Angel of Salingen—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—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.—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—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—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—only, as he thought, more charming—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—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—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—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—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—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—and this is according to our old plan—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.—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.—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—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.—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.—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.—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, &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—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.—"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.—"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.—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.—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.—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.—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.—They forbid all work on Sunday under "the -penalty of Ł1 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.—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.—They began by securing to all Englishmen who -might settle with them "the free exercise of Religion." -</p> -<p> -16 November, 1644.—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—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.—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.—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.—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>.—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>.—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>.—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.—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.—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>.—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—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>—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—the peculiar frame -and structure of their domestic relationships—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—on the -niceness—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—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—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—if not more—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—the complete overthrow—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—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—incorporated as such by nature—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—absolutely a part—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—drawing upon all of its resources for support—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—such as is usually -enjoyed in new communities free from proper social -restraints—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—as a -form of government—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—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 -Nińos 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—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—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—if such a -thing could be done—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—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—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—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—" the country is brown, the man is -brown, his jacket, his mantle, his wife, his <i>stew</i>, his -mule, his house—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—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!"—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—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—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—about six hundred pounds—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—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—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—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—for he was sixty when he assumed the -primacy—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 Vańos 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. -</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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!"—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—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.—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—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—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 Pčre 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—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—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—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—above all, the true religion, the Christian -religion—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—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—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!—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—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 Pčre 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—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"—<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—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—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!—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—let me use words which come from my heart—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—<i>de forme en forme</i>-from brightness to -brightness—<i>transformamur claritate in claritatem</i>—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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 Espańa" - —<i>Humble Things of Spain</i>. -</p> -<br> -<p> -If there exists an individual who has read all that we have -written—and the case, though not probable, is nevertheless not -impossible—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—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—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>—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 -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>—He has got a share—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>—He that wears a cloak -escapes—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>—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— - Just a rain-drop dull and plain: - When, behold! a jewel rare— - A sudden pearl exceeding fair! - - Chanced it on the heath hard by - That a viper, lurking dread, - Uttered then her hissing cry— - 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—a degeneration -aggravated and precipitated by the violent immixtion of barbarous -peoples—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—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—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—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—to -their credit be it said—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"—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—but the trail of the -serpent is over them all. We unhesitatingly pronounce this a -dangerous book—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—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—at least, -momentarily—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—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—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—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—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—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—called by sailors the Bull, Cow, and Calf—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—for they were gentlemen, and -altogether free from snobbish prejudice or religious bigotry—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—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—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—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—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—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—a theory just now very generally adopted in -the non-Catholic world, and assumed as the basis of the modern -doctrine of progress—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—as -Rome, Syria, Phoenicia, and modern India—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—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—in modern language, the -state—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—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—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.—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—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—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—yes." -</p> -<p> -"I knew and know many who followed this banner—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—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—and here is the point—in certain limits. Your progress, on -the contrary, proclaims freedom in moral principles, a disregard -of all moral obligations, unrestricted enjoyment—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—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—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—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—industrialism, enlightenment, humanitarianism, and -whatever they may be called—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—not enlightened society, sunk in egotism and gold—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—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—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—touched handkerchiefs to them—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—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—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—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—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—pardon my candor—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 blessčd 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— - 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—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 Ł500 -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—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—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—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, &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, &c., to the approbation & Refusall, -&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 Ł400 to Ł600 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 Ł3000, -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. … 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—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.] … 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 Ł773 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—who, since his retirement from office, had been quietly -residing on his estate at Staten Island—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—charged, in the -frenzy of the hour, to embrace a number of arms—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, Ł2500, 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.—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—your hopes—" -</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—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—and withal a -certain wildness and mystery—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—you so superior in the -path you have chosen. It is a higher path than mine—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—to your triumphs—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—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—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—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—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—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—what could even the certainty that he had now immortal -fame—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—it was that of -art—held me back from the abyss. I could not quit the world -before I had produced all—<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——. 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 ——'s? -Ah! you were not there; but I heard—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—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—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 dimmčd light require, - And dying sights repose in shrouding shades; - But eagles' eyes to brightest light aspire, - And living looks delight in lofty glades. - Faint-wingčd 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 undeservčd 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—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—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—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—for Christian dogmas, -in his view, have no relation to morals, and are not to be -counted—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—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—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—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—the softened name for deism—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—with individual exceptions, indeed—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—in principle, at least—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—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—half pages mostly—sometimes only lines, short and -excellent and original; blessed originality, not coarse or -confusing, but healthy and true—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—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—that is too many—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—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—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 Arčse. 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—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—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—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>fęte</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—as, for -instance, in the formation of chlorhydric acid by the action of -the violet rays on a mixture of chlorine and hydrogen—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—that of the centre of -gravity—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—that is, one with no breaks—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—or, in -other words, no light—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—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." - —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—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—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—its current soft-gliding and calm as the life -of the cloister—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—<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—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—a rank it retained for a long -period—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—a part of the -original abbey—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—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—a public promenade—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—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—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—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 Mčre 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 -engraving of the Sacred Heart of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the -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 -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—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—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—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— -</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—solemn and funereal, or -tender, or joyful. "There is something beautiful in the -church-bell," says Douglas Jerrold—"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—the -fish, wine, etc. -</p> -<p> -St. Léothade is invoked in various diseases, particularly for -epilepsy. -</p> -<p> -Through the kindness of the <i>mčre 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—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—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—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!—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, Frčre 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 -frčre 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 goűté les charmes - Des tabernacles du Seigneur! - - "Trop long-temps, brebis fugitive, - Je m'eloignai du Bon Pasteur. - Aujourd'hui, colombe plaintive, - Il l'appelle—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—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. … 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—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>… 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—as Mr. Bacon calls it, the gist—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—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—'tis nine and twenty years— - 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, seńor; 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, seńor, 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, -seńor?" "' 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. -</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—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—and the writer, till better informed, must think it -does not—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—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—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 - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CATHOLIC WORLD, APR/1869-SEPT/1869 *** - -***** This file should be named 57439-h.htm or 57439-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/7/4/3/57439/ - -Produced by Don Kostuch -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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